Good luck alone may guide us right; and good luck serves us well, for after having come some eight or nine miles we hear a man "hollering" to us.

He had heard our horses' tread, and was no doubt mightily relieved at our coming, as of course he was completely lost in the darkness and had wisely not made any attempt to find his way.

But there he was, good fellow, Red! with his little bunch of 200 steers.

Yes, the herd had split, that's how it was.

But where is Pete?
Oh! he doesn't know; last saw him heading the stampede; never saw him since.