It was cooler up in the Bergman Range, almost cold. The wind and the rain lashed at them, the rain pelting down from skies that consisted of blue-black massed clouds. The rain hit the men and the cattle like stinging pellets ensuring that all, the ten men, the horses, and the cattle were equally miserable, and still Loren pushed them on. He was driven by the idea of his cattle on his own land and he drove the cattle hard and the men harder. This was the last downward stretch of miles before the land flattened out onto the high prairie and he didn"t want to spend another night anywhere near steel railway tracks capable of hurtling one of Donaldson"s trains down on them in the dark. All of the men were weary and their trenchers useless against the biting rain. Loren had discarded his and tak
