“Close enough,” he called; and in the din his voice was not very clear.  “It’s not safe.  Wild steers!  I’m glad you came, girls.  Majesty, what do you think of that bunch of cattle?”

Madeline could scarcely reply what she thought, for the noise and dust and ceaseless action confused her.

“They’re milling, Al,” said Florence.

“We just rounded them up.  They’re milling, and that’s bad.  The vaqueros are hard drivers.  They beat us all hollow, and we drove some, too.”  He was wet with sweat, black with dust, and out of breath.  “I’m off now.  Flo, my sister will have enough of this in about two minutes.  Take her back to the wagon.  I’ll tell Bill you’re here, and run in whenever I get a minute.”

The bawling and bellowing, the crackling of horns and pounding of hoofs, the dusty whirl of cattle, and the flying cowboys disconcerted Madeline and frightened her a little; but she was intensely interested and meant to stay there until she saw for herself what that strife of sound and action meant.  When she tried to take in the whole scene she did not make out anything clearly and she determined to see it little by little.

“Will you stay longer?” asked Florence; and, receiving an affirmative reply, she warned Madeline:  “If a runaway steer or angry cow comes this way let your horse go.  He’ll get out of the way.”

That lent the situation excitement, and Madeline became absorbed.  The great mass of cattle seemed to be eddying like a whirlpool, and from that Madeline understood the significance of the range word “milling.”  But when Madeline looked at one end of the herd she saw cattle standing still, facing outward, and calves cringing close in fear.  The motion of the cattle slowed from the inside of the herd to the outside and gradually ceased.  The roar and tramp of hoofs and crack of horns and thump of heads also ceased in degree, but the bawling and bellowing continued.  While she watched, the herd spread, grew less dense, and stragglers appeared to be about to bolt through the line of mounted cowboys.

From that moment so many things happened, and so swiftly, that Madeline could not see a tenth of what was going on within eyesight.  It seemed horsemen darted into the herd and drove out cattle.  Madeline pinned her gaze on one cowboy who rode a white horse and was chasing a steer.  He whirled a lasso around his head and threw it; the rope streaked out and the loop caught the leg of the steer.  The white horse stopped with wonderful suddenness, and the steer slid in the dust.  Quick as a flash the cowboy was out of the saddle, and, grasping the legs of the steer before it could rise, he tied them with a rope.  It had all been done almost as quickly as thought.  Another man came with what Madeline divined was a branding-iron.  He applied it to the flank of the steer.  Then it seemed the steer was up with a jump, wildly looking for some way to run, and the