The night “walk” of sheep is a strange thing. First, perhaps, rides a shepherd, erect and careless in his saddle, the red light glowing from the tip of his cigarette; and beside his horse a collie-dog, nosing at objects, but always with ears for the sheep and the voice of his master.
Then come the sheep themselves, with cracking ankle-joints, clattering feet, muffled blethering, 208 a cloud of dust, and the inevitable sheep smell. Perhaps there is a moon, and then the herders must watch for racing cloud-shadows that cause stampedes.
Such was the picture of the Larkin sheep that night, only there was no moon. They started at ten, and Sims sent Miguel forward to walk before them, so they would not exhaust themselves with too fast traveling. On the move the sheep seemed more contented.
It was perhaps one o’clock in the morning that Larkin, in company with his chief herder, spurred out far in front of the advancing flock to reconnoiter. The sheep would be within approaching distance of the ford in a couple of hours, and Bud wished everything to be clear for them.
Nearing the Big Horn, Sims suddenly drew up his horse, motioning Bud to silence. Listening intently, they heard the voice of a man singing an old familiar plains song. The two looked at each other in amazement, for this was one of the “hymns” the cowboys use to still their cattle at night, the time of the most dreaded stampedes. It was the universal theory of the cow country that cattle, particularly on a “drive,” should not be long out of hearing of a human voice.
So the night-watchers, as they rode slowly 209 about the herd, sang to the cattle, although some of the ditties rendered were strong enough to stampede a herd of kedge-anchors.
“Cows here?” said Sims. “What does this mean, boss?”
“It means that we’re beaten to the ford and will have to hold the sheep back.”
“Yes, but who’s driving now? This is round-up and branding season.”
“I don’t know, but between you and me, Sims, I’ll bet a lamb to a calf that the rustlers are running their big pickings north. There are some mighty good heads at the top of that crowd, and they have taken advantage of the deserted range, just as we have, to drive their critters.”