It was like a race.

They swept on down the valley, and when the end of the white line neared Lassiter's first stand the head had begun to swing round to the west.

It swung slowly and stubbornly, yet surely, and gradually assumed a long, beautiful curve of moving white.

To Jane's amaze she saw the leaders swinging, turning till they headed back toward her and up the valley.

Out to the right of these wild plunging steers ran Lassiter's black, and Jane's keen eye appreciated the fleet stride and sure-footedness of the blind horse.
Then it seemed that the herd moved in a great curve, a huge half-moon with the points of head and tail almost opposite, and a mile apart But Lassiter relentlessly crowded the leaders, sheering them to the left, turning them little by little.