It was only a few minutes till they came to one of the bands which Scott had seen in the morning. They were spread out evenly on an open slope and feeding peacefully.
“Now have a good look at that band,” Baxter said, “there are sixteen hundred of them. No use trying to count them in the open. It can’t be done. You just have to size up a band you know and then compare it with others. It takes a good deal of experience to guess them at all accurately.”
“Couldn’t a fellow separate them into small groups and count them that way?” Scott asked.
“Ever try it?” Baxter grinned.
“No,” Scott replied, “I had never seen more than twenty sheep in one bunch till I came here.”
“Well, don’t suggest it to a sheep man if you want to look wise. You might as well try to separate a bunch of quicksilver with a pin point. Where the leader goes they all go. You can’t separate them.”
A little farther on they came to another band. “How many there?” Baxter asked drawing rein on a little knoll above them.
Scott sized them up carefully. They were bunched a little closer than the others and it was hard to judge. “Don’t look like quite so many,” he ventured a little doubtfully.
“Good,” Baxter exclaimed encouragingly, “fourteen hundred. Now for a look at yours.”
They rode briskly and Scott whiled away the time with an account of his encounter with the cowboy who tried to steal his horse.