"What are you saying? Cut what?"
"Oh, give us a rest!"
"A rest, iss it? You will be getting tired early. And who is keeping you from a rest?" said Mackenzie, whose knowledge of contemporary slang was decidedly meagre.
"Let me drive once," pleaded the boy.
"Well, try it, and I will walk along side of you," said Mackenzie, with apparent reluctance.
The attempt was eminently successful, but Kalman was quick both with hands and head. After the second round Mackenzie allowed the boy to go alone, remaining in the shade and calling out directions across the field. The result was to both a matter of unmixed delight. With Kalman there was the gratification of the boy's passion for the handling of horses, and as for Mackenzie, while on the trail or on the river, he was indefatigable, in the field he had the Indian hatred of steady work. To lie and smoke on the grass in the shade of a poplar bluff on this warm shiny spring day was to him sheer bliss.
But after a time Mackenzie grew restless. His cup of bliss still lacked a drop to fill it.
"Just keep them moving," he cried to Kalman. "I will need to go to the house a meenit."
"All right. Don't hurry for me," said Kalman, proud of his new responsibility and delighted with his new achievement.
"Keep them straight, mind. And watch your turning," warned Mackenzie. "I will be coming back soon."