"We had a good 'nough man 'till about a month ago; since then we've been gettin' along the best we could.

But with some a stayin' out on the range, an' not comin' in, an' the wolves a gettin' into the corral at night, we'll lose mighty nigh all the profits this year.

The worst of it is, there ain't much show to get a man; unless that one over on Bear Creek will come.

I reckon, though, he'll be like the rest." He sat staring gloomily into the night.
"Is the work so difficult ?" Mr.Howitt asked.
"Difficult, no; there ain't nothing to do but tendin' to the sheep.

The man has to stay at the ranch of nights, though." Mr.Howitt was wondering what staying at the ranch nights could have to do with the difficulty, when, up from the valley below, from out the darkness and the mists, came a strange sound; a sound as if someone were singing a song without words.