He hurried off to find the other herders for it was a long way around the boundaries and he would have to ride hard if he was to make it before dark. Well, he had the horse to do it. He patted Jed’s arching neck affectionately and the big black fellow pricked up his ears in answer.
When he started on his search for the sheep it took him longer than he expected to find the other bands because they had all left the feeding grounds where he had seen them the day before and were for some unaccountable reason moving southward toward the valley cliffs. He did not have time to try to figure it out or even to enjoy an argument with the herder. He simply gave them terse orders to have their sheep at the chute for recount Monday morning without fail and left them cursing the empty air.
No sooner had Scott notified the last herder than he turned about once more and galloped back to the point where the boundary line of his district met the valley cliffs. From there he followed the line northward. From what he had seen of Baxter he did not think it probable that the sheep had come over from his district, but he rode with eyes on the ground determined to draw a complete circle around those bands and not overlook any possible loophole.
He ate his lunch at the same place where he and Baxter had eaten the day before in the hope that he would meet him again but no one came. The same old question which he thought the supervisor had answered for him the day before was still buzzing ceaselessly through his head. How could those four thousand sheep have been spirited onto his district? He had not come any nearer to the solution when he mounted again and started once more on his long search.
The boundary led him far up to the head of the valley and close to the foot of the peak where the lookout tower was located. A steady up grade on a side hill trail finally brought him out on a ridge trail which he knew from the map led from the lookout station to the ranger’s cabin. He rode rapidly now but still scanned every foot of the trail carefully.
Jed was keeping a careful lookout too and he shied violently at a little patch of brush beside the trail. Scott glanced back to see what had startled him and reined in with a jerk. A little child was curled up in the shade of the bushes. Jed refused to go near it so Scott dismounted to investigate. It was a little girl about three years old and she was sleeping peacefully.
Scott straightened up to see if there was any one belonging to the child in sight. He could see for a mile down either side of the barren ridge but there was not a sign of life. He did not know the child and could not imagine where she had come from. It was at least three miles to the lookout station and about two miles to the ranger’s cabin. He decided to take the child with him and have Mrs. Dawson identify her.
He picked her gingerly up in his arms and started toward Jed. Jed sniffed at her suspiciously and backed away. Scott caught the rein but the horse jerked it indignantly out of his hand and circled out of reach. Jed had never seen a child before and was determined not to carry one until he knew more about it. He let Scott get hold of the rein again, but blocked all his attempts to mount.
Scott looked helplessly down at the child in his arms and found her smiling at him with wondering eyes.
“What is your name, little girl?” Scott asked gently. He was not used to children and was almost as much afraid of her as Jed.