Presently we crossed the creek and headed our course due north toward the desert and the buttes.  I saw that we were not going right to reach Mrs. Louderer’s ranch, so I asked where we were supposed to be going.  “We iss going to the mouth of Dry Creek by, where it goes Black’s Fork into.  Dere mine punchers holdts five huntert steers.  We shall de camp visit and you shall come back wiser as when you went.”

Well, we both came away wiser.  I had thought we were going only to the Louderer ranch, so I put up no lunch, and there was nothing for the horses either.  But it was too beautiful a time to let such things annoy us.  Anyway, we expected to reach camp just after noon, so a little delay about dinner didn’t seem so bad.  We had entered the desert by noon; the warm, red sands fell away from the wheels with soft, hissing sounds.  Occasionally a little horned toad sped panting along before us, suddenly darting aside to watch with bright, cunning eyes as we passed.  Some one had placed a buffalo’s skull beside a big bunch of sage and on the sage a splendid pair of elk’s antlers.  We saw many such scattered over the sands, grim reminders of a past forever gone.

About three o’clock we reached our destination, but no camp was there.  We were more disappointed than I can tell you, but Mrs. Louderer merely went down to the river, a few yards away, and cut an armful of willow sticks wherewith to coax Chub to a little brisker pace, and then we took the trail of the departed mess-wagon.  Shortly, we topped a low range of hills, and beyond, in a cuplike valley, was the herd of sleek beauties feeding contentedly on the lush green grass.  I suppose it sounds odd to hear desert and river in the same breath, but within a few feet of the river the desert begins, where nothing grows but sage and greasewood.  In oasis-like spots will be found plenty of grass where the soil is nearer the surface and where sub-irrigation keeps the roots watered.  In one of these spots the herd was being held.  When the grass became short they would be moved to another such place.

It required, altogether, fifteen men to take care of the herd, because many of the cattle had been bought in different places, some in Utah, and these were always trying to run away and work back toward home, so they required constant herding.  Soon we caught the glimmer of white canvas, and knew it was the cover of the mess-wagon, so we headed that way.

The camp was quite near the river so as to be handy to water and to have the willows for wood.  Not a soul was at camp.  The fire was out, and even the ashes had blown away.  The mess-box was locked and Mrs. Louderer’s loud calls brought only echoes from the high rock walls across the river.  However, there was nothing to do but to make the best of it, so we tethered the horses and went down to the river to relieve ourselves of the dust that seemed determined to unite with the dust that we were made of.  Mrs. Louderer declared she was “so mat as nodings and would fire dot Herman so soon as she could see him alreaty.”