The cook and the boss, the only men up, hurried back to bed.  Watson had risen so hurriedly that he had not been careful about his “tarp” and water had run into his bed.  But that wouldn’t disconcert anybody but a tenderfoot.  I kept waiting in tense silence to hear them come back with dead or wounded, but there was not a sound.  The rain had stopped.  Mrs. Louderer struck a match and said it was three o’clock.  Soon she was asleep.  Through a rift in the clouds a star peeped out.  I could smell the wet sage and the sand.  A little breeze came by, bringing Tex’s song once more:—­

    “Oh, it matters not, so I’ve been told,
    How the body lies when the heart grows cold.”

Oh, dear! the world seemed so full of sadness.  I kissed my baby’s little downy head and went to sleep.

It seems that cowboys are rather sleepy-headed in the morning and it is a part of the cook’s job to get them up.  The next I knew, Herman had a tin pan on which he was beating a vigorous tattoo, all the time hollering, “We haf cackle-berries und antelope steak for breakfast.”  The baby was startled by the noise, so I attended to him and then dressed myself for breakfast.  I went down to the little spring to wash my face.  The morning was lowering and gray, but a wind had sprung up and the clouds were parting.  There are times when anticipation is a great deal better than realization.  Never having seen a cackle-berry, my imagination pictured them as some very luscious wild fruit, and I was so afraid none would be left that I couldn’t wait until the men should eat and be gone.  So I surprised them by joining the very earliest about the fire.  Herman began serving breakfast.  I held out my tin plate and received some of the steak, an egg, and two delicious biscuits.  We had our coffee in big enameled cups, without sugar or cream, but it was piping hot and so good.  I had finished my egg and steak and so I told Herman I was ready for my cackle-berries.

“Listen to her now, will you?” he asked.  And then indignantly, “How many cackle-berries does you want?  You haf had so many as I haf cooked for you.”  “Why, Herman, I haven’t had a single berry,” I said.  Then such a roar of laughter.  Herman gazed at me in astonishment, and Mr. Watson gently explained to me that eggs and cackle-berries were one and the same.

N’Yawk was not yet up, so Herman walked over to his bed, kicked him a few times, and told him he would scald him if he didn’t turn out.  It was quite light by then.  N’Yawk joined us in a few minutes.  “What the deuce was you fellers kicking up such a rumpus fer last night?” he asked.  “You blamed blockhead, don’t you know?” the boss answered.  “Why, the sheriff searched this camp last night.  They had a battle down at the bridge afterwards and either they are all killed or else no one is hurt.  They would have been here otherwise.  Ward took a shot at them once yesterday, but I guess he didn’t hit; the men got away, anyway.  And durn your sleepy head! you just lay there and snored.  Well, I’ll be danged!” Words failed him, his wonder and disgust were so great.