For a few miles they rode in silence while Mr. Ramsey worked patiently to get the black very gradually accustomed to control. He found him much more amenable to the tone of the voice than he was to the bit. He could talk him into almost anything.
“Burton,” Mr. Ramsey called enthusiastically as they turned into a little side valley which led back into the mountains, “I believe you have the best horse in the Southwest. There does not seem to be anything mean about him. Go slow with him, talk to him gently, keep your temper, and you’ll never have any trouble with him. Go easy on the bit, remember that he does not know anything and will learn slowly, and he’ll be trained before you know it. What are you going to name him?”
“I have been thinking about that,” Scott replied, “and I think I shall call him ‘Jed.’”
Mr. Ramsey made a wry face and then laughed, “Sort of hard on the horse, but good enough for Jed. By the way, Jed is pretty sore at losing him and will try very hard to get even with you.”
“I thought I was just getting even with him,” Scott said. “He expected to break my neck and he almost succeeded.”
“That is true enough, but it is not the way that Jed looks at it. He is a mean customer and I advise you not to get mixed up with him. He’s quick on the draw and the surest shot in the country. He has caused trouble for every patrolman we have ever had on this district.”
“What should I expect from him?” Scott asked seriously.
“Everything, but of course his chief object will be to run in about twice as many sheep as he is paying for. Heth will be assigned to you as an extra guard. He knows the sheep business from A to Z and can put you onto all their tricks.”
They rode out of the little cañon to a high bench on the mountain side. There was a large open plain on the bench, known as a “park,” and beyond it the thinly timbered slopes led up to the higher ridges. The cañon up which they had come looked like a slit in the ground, and on either side of it the level plain stretched out toward the main valley where it fell abruptly to the valley level in an almost perpendicular cliff.
“The boundary of this forest,” the supervisor explained, “follows the edge of that cliff for about five miles. This cañon is the most important approach from the valley, the only one in fact that the stockmen can use. That fence and gateway there is the chute and the sheep are counted as they come in.”