What a blessed panacea for mental trouble is work!  We were in the saddle by daybreak the next morning, rounding up remudas.  Every available vaquero at the outlying ranchitas had been summoned.  Dividing the outfit and horses, Uncle Lance took twelve men and struck west for the Ganso.  With an equal number of men, Deweese pushed north for the Frio, which he was to work down below Shepherd’s, thence back along the home river.  From the ranch books, we knew there were fully two thousand beeves over five years old in our brand.  These cattle had never known an hour’s restraint since the day they were branded, and caution and cool judgment would be required in handling them.  Since the contract only required twelve hundred, we expected to make an extra clean gathering, using the oldest and naturally the largest beeves.

During the week spent in gathering, I got the full benefit of every possible hour in the saddle.  We reached the Ganso about an hour before sundown.  The weather had settled; water was plentiful, and every one realized that the work in hand would require wider riding than under dry conditions.  By the time we had caught up fresh horses, the sun had gone down.  “Boys,” said Uncle Lance, “we want to make a big rodeo on the head of this creek in the morning.  Tom, you take two vaqueros and lay off to the southwest about ten miles, and make a dry camp to-night.  Glenn may have the same help to the southeast; and every rascal of you be in your saddles by daybreak.  There are a lot of big ladino beeves in those brushy hills to the south and west.  Be sure and be in your saddles early enough to catch all wild cattle out on the prairies.  If you want to, you can take a lunch in your pocket for breakfast.  No; you need no blankets—­you’ll get up earlier if you sleep cold.”

Taking Jose Pena and Pasquale Arispe with me, I struck off on our course in the gathering twilight.  The first twitter of a bird in the morning brought me to my feet; I roused the others, and we saddled and were riding with the first sign of dawn in the east.  Taking the outside circle myself, I gave every bunch of cattle met on my course a good start for the centre of the round-up.  Pasquale and Jose followed several miles to my rear on inner circles, drifting on the cattle which I had started inward.  As the sun arose, dispelling the morning mists, I could see other cattle coming down in long strings out of the hills to the eastward.  Within an hour after starting, Gallup and I met.  Our half circle to the southward was perfect, and each turning back, we rode our appointed divisions until the vaqueros from the wagon were sighted, throwing in cattle and closing up the northern portion of the circle.  Before the sun was two hours high, the first rodeo of the day was together, numbering about three thousand mixed cattle.  In the few hours since dawn, we had concentrated all animals in a territory at least fifteen miles in diameter.