The foreman's quick eye already had picked out a nice elevation on which the old dry grass of the previous summer's growth lay matted like a carpet for the cattle to bed down on.
"How many of them are there in the herd?" asked Tad.
"About two thousand. That was the first count. Since then we have picked up a few stray cows. We will be cutting those out in a day or so, when you will see some real cow work. Perhaps you will be able to help by that time."
Now the cowmen galloped out on the plain, separating widely until they had practically surrounded the herd. They began circling slowly about the herd, at the same time gradually closing in on them.
The animals appeared to understand fully what was expected of them, for they had been on the road several nights already. Besides, having had their fill they were anxious to turn in for the night.
As they found spots to their liking, the animals began to throw themselves down.
Tad uttered an exclamation of delight as he watched the steers going to their knees in hundreds, then dropping on their sides, contentedly chewing their cuds. It was such a sight as he never before had seen.
"What are those steers on the outside there—those fellows without any horns?" asked Stacy.
"Those are the muleys. Having no horns, they keep well out of the bunch and wait until the others have gone to bed as you see," the foreman informed him. "You will notice after a while that they will lie down outside the circle. If any of the cows get ugly during the night the muleys will spring up and get out of the way."
In half an hour the last one of the great herd had "bedded down," and those of the cowboys who were not on guard, rode leisurely back toward camp.