He began to feel the loss of sleep and the bone-weariness of his fight and the long ride afterwards.
His breakfast was the one bright spot, and saved him from the gnawing discomfort of an empty stomach--at first.
He went into One Man Coulee and followed it to the arm that would lead to the rolling, ridgy open land beyond, where the "breaks" of the Badlands reached out to meet the prairie.

He came across the track of the herd, and followed it to the plain.

Once out in the open, however, the herd had seemed to split into several small bunches, each going in a different direction.

Which puzzled Irish a little at first.

Later, he thought he understood.
The cattle, it would seem, had been driven purposefully into the edge of the breaks and there made to scatter out through the winding gulches and canyons that led deeper into the Badlands.