The ground surged past. Hooves thundered. Dust flew. Fast but not too fast. Just enough to keep the cattle moving. Crack, a whip rang out. The cattle moved a little more quickly, hurrying into the pen. The drovers pulled away, closing the gate behind them. A couple hundred head to go and they would be finished for a couple of hours. The sun was barely above the horizon, lighting the mist and dust and making it difficult to see. It was beautiful though. The drovers headed back out, urging their horses into the mist.