Clint had worried some about Smoky and figgered to hunt him up sometime, but as on account of the deep snow he couldn't get his horse out of a walk he never could make it. Besides there was always a bunch of cattle somewheres on the way, and amongst 'em there'd be a few that needed bringing in.
But with all them drawbacks, Clint finally reached Smoky's range late one day. The gray sky was getting darker, and night was coming on as the cowboy topped a ridge and spotted a bunch of ponies, amongst the bunch was a long-haired, shaggy-looking, and lean mouse-colored horse, and Clint could hardly believe his eyes or keep from choking as he rode closer and recognized his Smoky horse.
The cowboy was for catching the horse right there and bring him in to the ranch. He wondered if Smoky could travel that far, but as the horse raised his head out of the hole in the snow where he'd been pawing for feed, and spotted the rider coming towards him, Clint was surprised to see so much strength and action. Smoky hadn't recognized the cowboy, and before he'd took a second look, he'd hightailed it from there in a hurry.
Clint watched him and smiled as he seen that the horse wasn't in near as bad a shape as he'd first thought.
"But I'm going to take you in just the same, you little son of a gun, for God knows what you'll be like in a few weeks from now if this weather keeps up."
He started on the trail Smoky and the other ponies had left, it was good and dark by then, but the trail in the deep snow was easy enough to follow. He wondered as he rode if he could get Smoky to stand long enough so as the horse would recognize him under all the disguise of his winter clothes, for at night specially he looked more like a bear than anything; then again, horses are spookier and harder to get near at that time, Clint had his doubts if he could catch him, and he figgered he'd most likely have to take the whole bunch along in order to get him to the ranch.
He was riding along on the trail and trying to get sight of the ponies, when to his left just a little ways, and out of the snow came a faint beller; it sounded like a critter in trouble, and Clint stopped his horse, the beller came again, and he rode towards the sound.—All curled up, shivering, and near covered with snow, a little bitty calf was found,—couldn't been over two days old, figgered the cowboy, and he wondered how the poor little cuss could still be alive.
"Where's your mammy, Johnny?" says Clint as he got off his horse and came near the calf.
But the words was no more out of his mouth when a dark shadow appeared, and bellering, tried to get to the cowboy with her horns before he could get on his horse. In making his getaway, Clint noticed tracks of more cattle, and following 'em a ways, come acrost another cow and with another calf, only this second calf was older and more able to navigate.
"These two wall-eyed heifers must of been missed during last fall's round up," Clint figgered, "and just as luck would have it they both have winter calves. Well, Smoky," he says as he looked the direction the ponies had went, "I guess that leaves you out, this time."