"Whoop-ee!" came a distant hail from one of the cowboys left to guard the Triangle B cattle.
"Zip-sippy!" yelled Bud in answer, and a little later he was introducing his cousins to the cowboys.
"Oh, boy! Rustlers!" cried Charlie Smith, when informed that he and
Hen Wagner were to form part of the pursuing posse.
"Just my rotten luck, I have to stay here!" complained Dirk, while Chot, to voice his disapproval of having to remain behind, slapped his pony with his hat and rode off over the prairie, only to return as fast as he went. It was his way of letting off steam.
The two cowboys, who were to join the bunch from Diamond X ranch, departed in haste, and then Bud and his cousins made preparations for spending several nights and days in the open, riding herd and hazing the cattle to their destination.
It was the season of warm nights, as well as days, though there was a certain coolness after dark. No tents were set up. Each man, or boy, was provided with a canvas tarpaulin, which was all the protection needed. The prairie itself would be their beds, their saddles their pillows and the grass a combination mattress and spring. They had packed enough food with them, and, if needed, a calf could be killed and eaten. There were water holes in plenty—in fact, they could live off the land.
Over a fire of greasewood, while the hobbled ponies rolled on the ground, the bacon was soon sizzling and the coffee brewing.
"Gosh, but I'm hungry!" cried Nort.
"You said something!" declared his brother, while Bud and the others smiled at the fresh enthusiasm of the easterners.
There was really not much to do after darkness had settled down, for the cattle were comparatively quiet, and after a full day of eating the sweet grass, having drunk their fill of water, they were content to lie under the silent stars.