They moved sullenly, closely massed, their heads lowered, their tails drooping.

The wind, now beginning to carry a vicious note with its whine, drove a heavy dust cloud against them, warning them.

The wind was icy, giving the cattle a foretaste of what was to come.

And mingling with the dust were fine, flinty snow particles that came almost horizontally against their rumps, stinging them, worrying them.

They increased their pace, and soon were running with a swinging, awkward stride, straight toward the wire fence, several miles distant.
If they saw Lawler they gave no sign, for they went lumbering on, snorting and bawling their apprehension.
Lawler was about to start Red King toward them, when he noted movement on the level a little northwestward from the cattle.