After breakfast, Ben and Otis instructed the vaqueros on the planned work for the day. Some of the pokes were sent to check fences on the north range— the north side of the Cuchara River where the cattle had been ranged for the winter. They were close now where they could be taken care of in the event of a sudden blizzard. The Herefords could take the cold as long as they had plenty of hay to eat and being close to the barns, with in a mile or so, the hay could be taken to them.

Other cowboys were sent to clean the barnyard of cow manure. The manure was shoveled into a heavy wagon and hauled behind the main barn and piled up. The next spring it would be used for fertilizing the hacienda garden and a patch of river bottom land where Ben was experimenting with growing pinto beans.

"You still figgerin' on raisin' beans?" Otis asked Ben.

"Yep."

"What you gonna do with all them beans? Don't reckon the vaqueros an' us kin eat up all them beans, I mean from one year to the next."

Ben looked at Otis, but didn't say anything.

"Reckon maybe the boys would git tired of eatin' that many beans."

He again looked at Otis, but didn't say a word. Otis shuffled his feet, then turned the collar of his coat up around his neck and looked at Ben, waiting for an answer. The answer never came. A rumbling noise drew their attention