"That's easily explained. In the first place, the sun was shining square in his eyes, and we were between him and the sun, therefore he could not make out what we were. Besides that, you see he's a yearling, and it's quite possible that he never before heard the sound of a gun. Evidently it did not scare him at all."
"Well," said Donald, "I'm glad to have that explained. If you had not told me how it was, I should certainly have believed that I had killed a patient that had escaped from some antelope lunatic asylum."
"That conundrum was an easy one," laughed Jack. "One trouble with most of us is that we look at things from our own little view-point, and imagine that other creatures look at things as we do. You ought to talk to Hugh about that. He's thought more about it than anybody I ever talked to, and he's given me whatever ideas I may have."
By this time the antelope was dressed and the team had driven up close to it. The carcass was loaded in and they went on again. About eleven o'clock they crossed a little stream which was the last water they would find until they reached camp at night, and they would have a long drive of twelve or fifteen miles across a dry flat. Accordingly they stopped here, unsaddled their horses and let them drink and feed, and cooked themselves a cup of coffee. An hour later, hitching up again, and with Jack in the wagon as driver, they started on; and an hour or two before sundown reached the willow-grown bottom where their camp was to be pitched.
As Jack and Donald were unhitching the team horses, Jack Mason, who had been riding off to one side, galloped up and, dismounting and throwing down his reins, jumped into the wagon and began rapidly to throw out the beds, tent and tent-poles. Donald took the team horses down to water, and the grub box and meat were lifted out. In a moment they had picked out a place for the tent and were soon putting in the tent-poles.
"Before we unsaddle, Jack," Mason said, "you and I had better ride off to take a look at some cattle that I see feeding on the prairie off to the north. If they should happen to be Mr. Sturgis' cattle, we ought to turn 'em back to the ranch. It seems to me I heard Rube speak the other night of seeing some tracks leading off in this direction, but somehow he lost the trail and couldn't find 'em. It may be that these are the cattle, and if there's any beef among 'em they certainly ought to be thrown back now."
"Right you are," said Jack. "Let's get the tent up and then we'll leave Donald to pack wood and water and build the fire, and we'll go off and look at the cattle."
Donald was ready to attend to the cooking so far as he could. There really was not much to do, for they had brought some bread; and all that was necessary was to cut and fry some meat, and boil the coffee. Jack suggested that Donald might skin the antelope and get the meat ready for frying. It would take the two Jacks only a short time to ride over to the cattle, but if they proved to be Sturgis' cattle they ought to be looked after. If they had located themselves up on the high bench and were likely to stay there, there was no special reason for driving them back into the Basin; on the other hand, if they were slowly traveling away from the Basin they ought to be turned back.
When the boys reached the cattle—only fifteen or eighteen head—they found that they were Sturgis' cattle, chiefly cows and young stock, but with them four or five steers, some of which would be ready for shipment that autumn. A careful look over the ground, and the discovery of a more or less worn trail where the cattle seemed for several days to have been going to water, made the men think that the animals were not traveling, but would stay there, or thereabout, for some time.
"Well," said Jack Danvers, "I believe these cattle have stopped here. Why not leave them alone, and keep an eye on them for the day or two that we are hunting here, and then when we start back two of us can drive them along to the ranch and turn them loose down by the lake?"