It's the same south of here, the only difference being that in the south there is no railroad until you strike the Southern Pacific.
And that's a long distance to drive cattle." When the herd began to move the following morning, Blackburn sent them over the mesa for several miles, and then began to head them down a gradual slope, leaving the mesa behind.

There was a faint trail, narrow, over which in other days cattle had been driven.

For the grass had been trampled and cut to pieces; and in some places there were still prints of hoofs in the baked soil.
The slope grew sharper, narrowing as it descended, and the cattle moved down it in a sinuous, living line, until the leaders were out of sight far around a bend at least a mile distant.
Blackburn was at the head of the herd with three men, riding some little distance in front of the cattle, inspecting the trail.

Lawler and the others were holding the stragglers at the top of the mesa, endeavoring to prevent the crowding and confusion which always results when massed cattle are being held at an outlet.

It was like a crowd of eager humans attempting to gain entrance through a doorway at the same instant.