“Good-by，Pedro，“hesaid——“good-by。“Pedrolookedforbread。
　　“No，“saidhismaster，sorrowfully，“notanymore。Yu’knowwellI’dgiveityu’ifIhadit。Youandmedidn’tfigureonthis，didwe，Pedro？Good-by！“
　　Hehuggedhisponyagain，andgotasfarasthebarsofthepasture，butreturnedoncemore。“Good-by，mylittlehorse，mydearhorse，mylittle，littlePedro，“hesaid，ashistearswetthepony’sneck。Thenhewipedthemwithhishand，andgothimselfbacktothebunkhouse。AfterbreakfastheandhisbelongingsdepartedtoDrybone，andPedrofromhisfieldcalmlywatchedthisdeparture；forhorsesmustrecognizeevenlessthanmentheblackcornersthattheirdestiniesturn。Theponystoppedfeedingtolookatthemail-wagonpassby；butthemastersittinginthewagonforeboretoturnhishead。
　　ResignedtowaitfortheJudge’shorses，Balaamwentintohisofficethisdry，brightmorningandreadnineaccumulatednewspapers；forhewasbehindhand。Thenherodeoutontheditches，andmethismanreturningwiththetroublesomeanimalsatlast。HehastenedhomeandsentfortheVirginian。Hehadmadeadecision。
　　“Seehere，“hesaid；“thosehorsesarecoming。WhattrailwouldyoutakeovertotheJudge’s？“
　　“Shortesttrail’srightthroughtheBowLaigMountains，“saidtheforeman，inhisgentlevoice。
　　“Guessyou’reright。It’sdinner-time。We’llstartrightafterward。We’llmakeLittleMuddyCrossingbysundown，andSunkCreekto-morrow，andthenextday’llseeusthrough。CanawagongetthroughSunkCreekCanyon？“
　　TheVirginiansmiled。“Ireckonitcan’t，seh，andstayresemblingawagon。“
　　BalaamtoldthemtosaddlePedroandonepackhorse，anddrivethebunchofhorsesintoacorral，ropingtheJudge’stwo，whoprovedextremelywild。HehaddecidedtotakethisjourneyhimselfonrememberingcertainpoliticssoontoberifeinCheyenne。ForJudgeHenrywasindeedagreatermanthanBalaam。Thispersonallyconductedreturnofthehorseswouldtemperitstardiness，and，moreover，thesightofsomeNewYorkvisitorswouldbeagoodthingaftersevenmonthsofnowarmertouchwiththatmetropolisthantheSundayHERALD，alwayseightdaysoldwhenitreachedtheButteCreekRanch。
　　TheyfordedButteCreek，and，crossingthewell-travelledtrailwhichfollowsdowntoDrybone，turnedtheirfacestowardtheuninhabitedcountrythatbeganimmediately，astheoceanbeginsoffasandyshore。Andasasinglemastonwhichnosailisshiningstandsatthehorizonandseemstoaddalonelinesstothesurroundingsea，sothelonggraylineoffence，almostamileaway，thatendedBalaam’slandonthissidethecreek，stretchedalongthewastegroundandaddeddesolationtotheplain。Nosolitarywatercoursewithmarginofcottonwoodsorwillowthicketsflowedheretostripethedingy，yellowworldwithinterruptinggreen，norwerecattletobeseendottingthedistance，normovingobjectsatall，noranybirdinthesoundlessair。ThelastgatewasshutbytheVirginian，wholookedbackatthepleasanttreesoftheranch，andthenfollowedoninsinglefileacrossthealkaliofNoMan’sLand。
　　Nocloudwasinthesky。Thedesert’sgrimnoonshonesombrelyonflatandhill。Thesagebrushwasdulllikezinc。Thickheatrosenearathandfromthecakedalkali，andpaleheatshroudedthedistantpeaks。
　　Therewerefivehorses。BalaamledonPedro，hissquatfigurestiffinthesaddle，butsolidasarock，andtiltedalittleforward，ashishabitwas。OneoftheJudge’shorsescamenext，asorrel，draggingbackcontinuallyontheropebywhichhewasled。AfterhimambledBalaam’swisepack-animal，carryingthelightburdenoftwodays’foodandlodging。Shewasanoldmarewhocouldstillgowhenshechose，buthadbeenschooledbytheyears，andkeptthetrail，givingnotroubletotheVirginianwhocamebehindher。Healsosatsolidasarock，yetsubtlybendingtothestrugglesofthewildhorseheled，asasteelspringbendsandbalancesandresumesitspoise。
　　Thustheymadebutslowtime，andwhentheytoppedthelastdullriseofgroundandlookeddownonthelongslantofragged，cakedearthtothecrossingofLittleMuddy，withitssingletreeandfewmeanbushes，thefinaldistancewhereeyesightendshaddeepenedtovioletfromthethin，steadybluetheyhadstaredatforsomanyhours，andallheatwasgonefromtheuniversaldryness。Thehorsesdrankalongtimefromthesluggishyellowwater，anditsalkalinetasteandwarmthwereequallywelcometothemen。Theybuiltalittlefire，andwhensupperwasended，smokedbutashortwhileandinsilence，beforetheygotintheblanketsthatwerespreadinasmoothplacebesidethewater。
　　TheyhadpicketedthetwohorsesoftheJudgeinthebestgrasstheycouldfind，lettingtherestgofreetofindpasturewheretheycould。Whenthefirstlightcame，theVirginianattendedtobreakfast，whileBalaamrodeawayonthesorreltobringintheloosehorses。Theyhadgonefaroutofsight，andwhenhereturnedwiththem，aftersometwohours，hewasonPedro。Pedrowassoakingwithsweat，andredfrothcreamedfromhismouth。TheVirginiansawthehorsesmusthavebeenhardtodrivein，especiallyafterBalaambroughtthemthewildsorrelasaleader。
　　“Ifyou’dkep’ridin’him，’steadofchangin’offonyourhawss，they’dhavebehavedquieter，“saidtheforeman。
　　“That’sgoodseasonableadvice，“saidBalaam，sarcastically。“I
　　couldhavetoldyouthatnow。“
　　“Icouldhavetoldyouwhenyoustarted，“saidtheVirginian，heatingthecoffeeforBalaam。
　　Balaamwaseloquentontheoutrageousconductofthehorses。HehadcomeupwiththemevidentlystrikingbackforButteCreek，withtheoldmareinthelead。
　　“ButIsoonshowedhertheroadshewastogo，“hesaid，ashedrovethemnowtothewater。
　　TheVirginiannoticedtheslightlimpofthemare，andhowherpasternwascutasifwithastoneorthesharpheelofaboot。
　　“Iguessshe’llnotbeinahurrytotravelexceptwhenshe’swantedto，“continuedBalaam。Hesatdown，andsullenlypouredhimselfsomecoffee。“We’llbeinluckifwemakeanySunkCreekthisnight。“
　　Hewentonwithhisbreakfast，thinkingaloudforthebenefitofhiscompanion，whomadenocomments，preferringsilencetothediscomfortoftalkingwithamanwhosevindictivehumorwassothoroughlyuppermost。Hedidnotevenlistenveryattentively，butcontinuedhispreparationsfordeparture，washingthedishes，rollingtheblankets，andmovingaboutinhisusualwayofeasyandvisiblegoodnature。
　　“Sixo’clock，already，“saidBalaam，saddlingthehorses。“Andwe’llnotgetstartedfortenminutesmore。“ThenhecametoPedro。“Soyouhaven’tquitfoolingyet，haven’tyou？“heexclaimed，fortheponyshrankasheliftedthebridle。“Takethatforyoursoremouth！“andherammedthebitin，atwhichPedroflungbackandreared。
　　“Well，IneversawPedroactthatwayyet，“saidtheVirginian。
　　“Ah，rubbish！“saidBalaam。“They’reallthesame。Notabastardonebut’slayingforhischancetodoforyou。Some’llbuckyouoff，andsome’llrollwithyou，andsome’llfightyouwiththeirforefeet。Theymayplaygoodforayear，buttheWesternpony’sman’senemy，andwhenhejudgeshe’sgothischance，he’sgoingtodohisbest。Andifyoucomeoutaliveitwon’tbehisfault。“
　　Balaampausedforawhile，packing。“You’vegottokeepthemafraidofyou，“hesaidnext；“that’swhatyou’vegottodoifyoudon’twanttrouble。ThatPedrohorsetherehasbeenfed，hand-fed，andfooledwithlikeadamnpet，andwhat’sthatpolicydone？Why，hegoesuglywhenhethinksit’stime，anddecideshe’llnotdriveanyhorsesintocampthismorning。Heknowsbetternow。“
　　“Mr。Balaam，“saidtheVirginian，“I’llbuythathawssoffyu’
　　rightnow。“
　　Balaamshookhishead。“You’llnotdothatrightnoworanyothertime，“saidhe。“Ihappentowanthim。“
　　TheVirginiancoulddonomore。Hehadheardcow-puncherssaytorefractoryponies，“Youkeepstill，orI’llBalaamyou！“andhenowunderstoodtheaptnessoftheexpression。
　　MeanwhileBalaambegantoleadPedrotothecreekforalastdrinkbeforestartingacrossthetorriddrought。Thehorseheldbackonthereinalittle，andBalaamturnedandcutthewhipacrosshisforehead。Adelayofforcingandbackingfollowed，whiletheVirginian，alreadyinthesaddle，waited。Theminutespassed，andnoimmediateprospect，apparently，ofgettingnearerSunkCreek。
　　“Heain’goin’tofollowyouwhileyou’rebeatin’hishaid，“theSoutherneratlengthremarked。
　　“Doyouthinkyoucanteachmeanythingabouthorses？“retortedBalaam。
　　“Well，itdon’tlooklikeIcould，“saidtheVirginian，lazily。
　　“Thendon’ttryit，solongasit’snotyourhorse，myfriend。“
　　AgaintheSouthernerlevelledhiseyeonBalaam。“Allright，“hesaid，inthesamegentlevoice。“Anddon’tyoucallmeyourfriend。You’vemadethatmistaketwiced。“
　　Theroadwasshadeless，asithadbeenfromthestart，andtheycouldnottravelfast。Duringthefirstfewhoursallcoolnesswasdrivenoutoftheglassymorning，andanotherdayofillimitablesuninvestedtheworldwithitsblaze。ThepaleBowLegRangewascomingnearer，butitshardhotslantsandriftssuggestednosortoffreshness，andeventhepinesthatspreadforwidemilesalongnearthesummitcountedfornothinginthedistanceandtheglare，butseemedmerepatchesofdulldrydiscoloration。Notalkwasexchangedbetweenthetwotravellers，forthecow-puncherhadnothingtosayandBalaamwassulky，sotheymovedalonginsilentenduranceofeachother’scompanyandthetediumofthejourney。
　　Buttheslowsuccessionofriseandfallintheplainchangedandshortened。Theearth’ssurfacebecamelumpy，risingintomoundsandknottedsystemsofsteepsmallhillscutapartbystaringgashesofsand，wherewaterpouredinthespringfromthemeltingsnow。Afteratimetheyascendedthroughthefoot-hillstilltheplainbelowwasforawhileconcealed，butcameagainintoviewinitsentirety，distantandathingofthepast，whilesomemagpiessaileddowntomeetthemfromthenewcountrytheywereentering。Theypassedupthroughasmalltransparentforestofdeadtreesstandingstarkandwhite，andalittlehighercameonalineofnarrowmoisturethatcrossedthewayandformedastalepoolamongsomewillowthickets。Theyturnedasidetowatertheirhorses，andfoundnearthepoolacircularspotofashesandsomepoleslying，andbesidetheseacage-likeedificeofwillowwandsbuiltintheground。
　　“Indiancamp，“observedtheVirginian。
　　Therewerethetracksoffiveorsixhorsesonthefarthersideofthepool，andtheydidnotcomeintothetrail，butledoffamongtherocksonsomesystemoftheirown。
　　“They’reaboutaweekold，“saidBalaam。“It’spartofthatoutfitthat’sbeenhunting。“
　　“They’vegoneontovisittheirfriends，“addedthecow-puncher。
　　“Yes，ontheSouthernReservation。HowfardoyoucallSunkCreeknow？“
　　“Well，“saidtheVirginian，calculating，“it’smightynighfo’tymilesfromMuddyCrossin’，an’Ireckonwe’vecomeeighteen。“
　　“Justabout。It’snoon。“Balaamsnappedhiswatchshut。“We’llrestheretill12:30。“
　　Whenitwastimetogo，theVirginianlookedmusinglyatthemountains。“We’llneedtotravelrightsmarttogetthroughthecanyonto-night，“hesaid。
　　“Tellyouwhat，“saidBalaam；“we’llropetheJudge’shorsestogetheranddrive’eminfrontofus。That’llmakespeed。“
　　“Mightn’ttheygetawayonus？“objectedtheVirginian。“They’repow’fulwild。“
　　“Theycan’tgetawayfromme，Iguess，“saidBalaam，andthearrangementwasadopted。“We’rethefirstthisseasonoverthispieceofthetrail，“heobservedpresently。