What could have happened to her? He looked in vain for whatever was
pursuing her, and saw that she was not being followed, but was swinging
her arm above her head with a triumphant gesture.
He slowed his pony down, and soon she dashed to his side.
"You fellows are certainly a bright lot of cow-punchers," she exclaimed.
"What's the matter now?" asked Ted gloomily.
"Didn't any of you think of scouting down the coulee?"
"I confess I didn't."
"You ought to be laid off the job for a week."
"Why?"
"You can get those cattle out of that hole in an hour."
"We can! How do you know?"
"The coulee runs out about a mile to the west, and straight to the
north, up a wide swale, lies the ranch house in full view."
"Stella, you're all right. But the cattle are bogged, and they can't
move even down the coulee."
"I believe they can."
"How?"
"When the other boys come back from breakfast all of you jump into the
coulee and tramp the snow down as much as you can ahead of the leaders.
Then start them up."
"Bully for you, Stella; you're a better cow-puncher than any of us."
"No, I'm not, but because I don't know as much about it I go at it in a
woman's way, which is a roundabout way, and nearly always foolish to
look at, but sometimes does the work."
This suggestion had the effect of taking a great load from Ted's
shoulders, for if he did not succeed in getting the herd out before
night they would freeze solid in their molds of snow, and then he would
never get half of them out alive.
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