so lush, had been badly drowned out by the flood. It would be
several weeks before the lowlands offered good pasturage again.

The visitors learned that where they had camped at the time of the
round-up, the river had risen and washed away every trace of the
encampment. Indeed, Rolling Spring Valley had been under water for
miles on either flank of the main stream. A bunch of young horses
belonging to Rose Ranch, having been confined in a small corral,
were drowned at that time.

"There went several thousand dollars," Rhoda explained, when she
told her friends of the tragedy. "The losses as well as the gains
in the ranching and stock raising business are large. If daddy
sells a big herd of cattle, or a fine bunch of horses, he takes in
many thousands of dollars, it is true.

"But it is hard to compute the profit or loss on the sale. So many
things are likely to happen. Perhaps some disease hits the herd.
Thousands of cattle may die in some epidemic. Once wolves came down
in the winter, when I was little--I remember it clearly--and killed
more than a hundred steers within a mile of the house."

"Oh, dear me, Rhoda! don't tell us about any more wild animals,"
wailed Grace. "I think the West would be a much nicer place if they
had tamed all the wild creatures before man ever moved into it."

"You are not much of a sport, Sis," said her brother, laughing. "It
must have been really great around here when the buffaloes and
Indians ran wild. You can't remember that, Rhoda, can you?"