He dropped his head, and, slowly lengthening, he bent one foreleg, then the other, and sank to his knees.  Jane slipped her left foot in the stirrup, swung lightly into the saddle, and Black Star rose with a ringing stamp.  It was not easy for Jane to hold him to a canter through the grove. and like the wind he broke when he saw the sage.  Jane let him have a couple of miles of free running on the open trail, and then she coaxed him in and waited for her companion.  Lassiter was not long in catching up, and presently they were riding side by side.  It reminded her how she used to ride with Venters.  Where was he now?  She gazed far down the slope to the curved purple lines of Deception Pass and involuntarily shut her eyes with a trembling stir of nameless fear.

“We’ll turn off here,” Lassiter said, “en’ take to the sage a mile or so.  The white herd is behind them big ridges.”

“What are you going to show me?” asked Jane.  “I’m prepared—­don’t be afraid.”

He smiled as if he meant that bad news came swiftly enough without being presaged by speech.

When they reached the lee of a rolling ridge Lassiter dismounted, motioning to her to do likewise.  They left the horses standing, bridles down.  Then Lassiter, carrying the field-glasses began to lead the way up the slow rise of ground.  Upon nearing the summit he halted her with a gesture.

“I reckon we’d see more if we didn’t show ourselves against the sky,” he said.  “I was here less than an hour ago.  Then the herd was seven or eight miles south, an’ if they ain’t bolted yet—­”

“Lassiter!...Bolted?”

“That’s what I said.  Now let’s see.”

Jane climbed a few more paces behind him and then peeped over the ridge.  Just beyond began a shallow swale that deepened and widened into a valley and then swung to the left.  Following the undulating sweep of sage, Jane saw the straggling lines and then the great body of the white herd.  She knew enough about steers, even at a distance of four or five miles, to realize that something was in the wind.  Bringing her field-glass into use, she moved it slowly from left to right, which action swept the whole herd into range.  The stragglers were restless; the more compactly massed steers were browsing.  Jane brought the glass back to the big sentinels of the herd, and she saw them trot with quick steps, stop short and toss wide horns, look everywhere, and then trot in another direction.

“Judkins hasn’t been able to get his boys together yet,” said Jane.  “But he’ll be there soon.  I hope not too late.  Lassiter, what’s frightening those big leaders?”

“Nothin’ jest on the minute,” replied Lassiter.  “Them steers are quietin’ down.  They’ve been scared, but not bad yet.  I reckon the whole herd has moved a few miles this way since I was here.”

“They didn’t browse that distance—­not in less than an hour.  Cattle aren’t sheep.”

“No, they jest run it, en’ that looks bad.”