CHAPTER II

THE RACE


The coyotes were barking when the cook's triangle brought Dave from his
blankets. The objects about him were still mysterious in the pre-dawn
darkness. The shouting of the wranglers and the bells of the remuda
came musically as from a great distance. Hart joined his friend and the
two young men walked out to the remuda together. Each rider had on the
previous night belled the mount he wanted, for he knew that in the
morning it would be too dark to distinguish one bronco from another. The
animals were rim-milling, going round and round in a circle to escape the
lariat.

Dave rode in close and waited, rope ready, his ears attuned to the sound
of his own bell. A horse rushed jingling past. The rope snaked out, fell
true, tightened over the neck of the cowpony, brought up the animal
short. Instantly it surrendered, making no further, attempt to escape.
The roper made a half-hitch round the nose of the bronco, swung to its
back, and cantered back to camp.

In the gray dawn near details were becoming visible. The mountains began
to hover on the edge of the young world. The wind was blowing across half
a continent.

Sanders saddled, then rode out upon the mesa. He whistled sharply. There