corn fed to three barrels to the animal a month, with plenty of rough
feed, ought to bring them through the winter in good, healthy form.
The farmer promised to report monthly on their condition, and agreeing
to send for them by the first of April, I hastened on home.

My wife had taken a hand in the building of the new house on the Clear
Fork. It was quite a pretentious affair, built of hewed logs, and
consisted of two large rooms with a hallway between, a gallery on
three sides, and a kitchen at the rear. Each of the main rooms had an
ample fireplace, both hearths and chimneys built from rock, the only
material foreign to the ranch being the lumber in the floors, doors,
and windows. Nearly all the work was done by the ranch hands, even the
clapboards were riven from oak that grew along the mother Brazos, and
my wife showed me over the house as though it had been a castle that
she had inherited from some feudal forbear. I was easily satisfied;
the main concern was for the family, as I hardly lived at home enough
to give any serious thought to the roof that sheltered me. The
original buildings had been improved and enlarged for the men, and an
air of prosperity pervaded the Anthony ranch consistent with the times
and the success of its owner.

The two ranches reported a few over fifteen thousand calves branded
that fall. A dim wagon road had been established between the ranches,
by going and returning outfits during the stocking of the new ranch
the spring before, and the distance could now be covered in two days
by buckboard. The list of government contracts to be let was awaiting
my attention, and after my estimates had been prepared, and forwarded
to my active partner, it was nearly the middle of December before I
found time to visit the new ranch. The hands at Double Mountain had
not been idle, snug headquarters were established, and three line
camps on the outskirts of the range were comfortably equipped to
shelter men and horses. The cattle had located nicely, two large
corrals had been built on each river, and the calves were as thrifty
as weeds. Gray wolves were the worst enemy encountered, running in
large bands and finding shelter in the cedar brakes in the canons and
foothills which border on the Staked Plain. My foreman on the Double
Mountain ranch was using poison judiciously, all the line camps were
supplied with the same, and an active winter of poisoning wolves
was already inaugurated before my arrival. Long-range rifles would
supplement the work, and a few years of relentless war on these pests
would rid the ranch of this enemy of live stock.

Together my foreman and I planned for starting an improved herd of
cattle. A canon on the west was decided on as a range, as it was well
watered from living springs, having a valley several miles wide,
forming a park with ample range for two thousand cattle. The bluffs
on either side were abrupt, almost an in closure, making it an easy
matter for two men to loose-herd a small amount of stock, holding them
adjoining my deeded range, yet separate. The survival of the fittest
was adopted as the rule in beginning the herd, five hundred choice
cows were to form the nucleus, to be the pick of the new ranch, thrift
and formation to decide their selection. Solid colors only were to be
chosen, every natural point in a cow was to be considered, with
the view of reproducing the race in improved form. My foreman--an
intelligent young fellow--was in complete sympathy, and promised
me that he would comb the range in selecting the herd. The first
appearance of grass in the spring was agreed on as the time for
gathering the cows, when he would personally come to the Clear
Fork and receive the importation of bulls, thus fully taking all
responsibility in establishing the improved herd. By this method,
unless our plans miscarried, in the course of a few years we expected
to be raising quarter-bloods in the main ranch stock, and at the same
time retaining all those essential qualities that distinguish the
range-raised from the domestic-bred animal.

On my return to the Clear Fork, which was now my home, a letter from
my active partner was waiting, informing me that he and Edwards would
reach Texas about the time the list of awards would arrive. They had
been unsuccessful in fully stocking our beef ranch, securing only
three thousand head, as prices were against them, and the letter
intimated that something must be done to provide against a repetition
of this unforeseen situation. The ranch in the Outlet had paid us a
higher per cent on the investment than any of our ventures, and to
neglect fully stocking it was contrary to the creed of Hunter, Anthony
& Co. True, we were double-wintering some four thousand head of cattle
on our Cherokee range, but if a fair allowance of awards was allotted
the firm, requiring northern wintered cattle in filling, it might
embarrass us to supply the same when we did not have the beeves in
hand; it was our business to have the beef.

At the appointed time the buckboard was sent to Fort Worth, and a few
days later Major Hunter and our main segundo drove up to the Clear
Fork. Omitting all preludes, atmosphere, and sunsets, we got down to
business at once. If we could drive cattle to Dodge City and market
them for eighty-five cents, we ought to be able to deliver them on our
northern range for six bits, and the horses could be returned or sold
at a profit. If any of our established trade must be sacrificed, why,
drop what paid the least; but half stock our beef ranch? Never again!
This was to be the slogan for the coming summer, and, on receiving the
report from Washington, we were enabled to outline a programme for the
year. The gradually advancing prices in cattle were alarming me, as
it was now perceptible in cows, and in submitting our bids on Indian
awards I had made the allowance of one dollar a head advance over the
spring before. In spite of this we were allotted five contracts from
the Interior Department and seven to the Army, three of the latter
requiring ten thousand northern wintered beeves,--only oversold three
thousand head. Major Hunter met my criticisms by taking the ground
that we virtually had none of the cattle on hand, and if we could buy
Southern stock to meet our requirements, why not the three thousand
that we lacked in the North. Our bids had passed through his hands
last; he knew our northern range was not fully stocked, and had
forwarded the estimates to our silent partner at Washington, and now
the firm had been assigned awards in excess of their holdings. But he
was the kind of a partner I liked, and if he could see his way clear,
he could depend on my backing him to the extent of my ability and
credit.

The business of the firm had grown so rapidly that it was deemed
advisable to divide it into three departments,--the Army, the Indian,
the beef ranch and general market. Major Hunter was specially
qualified to handle the first division, the second fell to Edwards,
and the last was assumed by myself. We were to consult each other when
convenient, but each was to act separately for the firm, my commission
requiring fifteen thousand cattle for our ranch in the Outlet, and
three herds for the market at Dodge City. Our banking points were
limited to Fort Worth and San Antonio, so agreeing to meet at the
latter point on the 1st of February for a general consultation, we
separated with a view to feeling the home market. Our man Edwards
dropped out in the central part of the State, my active partner wished
to look into the situation on the lower Nueces River, and I returned
to the headwaters of that stream. During the past two summers we had
driven five herds of heavy beeves from Uvalde and adjoining counties,
and while we liked the cattle of that section, it was considered
advisable to look elsewhere for our beef supply. Within a week I
let contracts for five herds of two and three year old steers, then
dropped back to the Colorado River and bought ten thousand more in
San Saba and McCulloch counties. This completed the purchases in
my department, and I hastened back to San Antonio for the expected
consultation. Neither my active partner nor my trusted man had
arrived, nor was there a line to indicate where they were or when they
might be expected, though Major Hunter had called at our hotel a few
days previously for his mail. The designated day was waning, and I was
worried by the non-appearance of either, when I received a wire from
Austin, saying they had just sublet the Indian contracts.

The next morning my active partner and Edwards arrived. The latter had
met some parties at the capital who were anxious to fill our Indian
deliveries, and had wired us in the firm's name, and Major Hunter had
taken the first train for Austin. Both returned wreathed in smiles,
having sublet our awards at figures that netted us more than we could
have realized had we bought and delivered the cattle at our own risk.
It was clear money, requiring not a stroke of work, while it freed a
valuable man in outfitting, receiving, and starting our other herds,
as well as relieving a snug sum for reinvestment. Our capital lay idle
half the year, the spring months were our harvest, and, assigning
Edwards full charge of the cattle bought on the Colorado River,
we instructed him to buy for the Dodge market four herds more in
adjoining counties, bringing down the necessary outfits to handle them
from my ranch on the Clear Fork. Previous to his return to San Antonio
my active partner had closed contracts on thirteen thousand heavy
beeves on the Frio River and lower Nueces, thus completing our
purchases. A healthy advance was noticeable all around in steer
cattle, though hardly affecting cows; but having anticipated a growing
appreciation in submitting our bids, we suffered no disappointment. A
week was lost in awaiting the arrival of half a dozen old foremen. On
their arrival we divided them between us and intrusted them with the
buying of horses and all details in making up outfits.

The trails leading out of southern Texas were purely local ones, the
only established trace running from San Antonio north, touching at
Fort Griffin, and crossing into the Nations at Red River Station in
Montague County. All our previous herds from the Uvalde regions had
turned eastward to intercept this main thoroughfare, though we had
been frequently advised to try a western outlet known as the Nueces
Canon route. The latter course would bring us out on high tablelands,
but before risking our herds through it, I decided to ride out the
country in advance. The canon proper was about forty miles long,
through which ran the source of the Nueces River, and if the way were
barely possible it looked like a feasible route. Taking a pack horse
and guide with me, I rode through and out on the mesa beyond. General
McKinzie had used this route during his Indian campaigns, and had even
built mounds of rock on the hills to guide the wayfarer, from the exit
of the canon across to the South Llano River. The trail was a rough
one, but there was grass sufficient to sustain the herds and ample
bed-grounds in the valleys, and I decided to try the western outlet
from Uvalde. An early, seasonable spring favored us with fine grass on
which to put up and start the herds, all five moving out within a week
of each other. I promised my foremen to accompany them through the
canon, knowing that the passage would be a trial to man and beast, and
asked the old bosses to loiter along, so that there would be but a few
hours' difference between the rear and lead herds.

I received sixteen thousand cattle, and the four days required in
passing through Nueces Canon and reaching water beyond were the
supreme physical test of my life. It was a wild section, wholly
unsettled, between low mountains, the river-bed constantly shifting
from one flank of the valley to the other, while cliffs from three to
five hundred feet high alternated from side to side. In traveling the
first twenty-five miles we crossed the bed of the river twenty-one
times; and besides the river there were a great number of creeks and
dry arroyos putting in from the surrounding hills, so that we were
constantly crossing rough ground. The beds of the streams were covered
with smooth, water-worn pebbles, white as marble, and then again we
encountered limestone in lava formation, honeycombed with millions of
sharp, up-turned cells. Some of the descents were nearly impossible
for wagons, but we locked both hind wheels and just let them slide
down and bounce over the boulders at the bottom. Half-way through the
canon the water failed us, with the south fork of the Llano forty
miles distant in our front. We were compelled to allow the cattle to
pick their way over the rocky trail, the herds not over a mile apart,
and scarcely maintaining a snail's pace. I rode from rear to front
and back again a dozen times in clearing the defile, and noted that
splotches of blood from tender-footed cattle marked the white pebbles
at every crossing of the river-bed. On the evening of the third day,
the rear herd passed the exit of the canon, the others having turned
aside to camp for the night. Two whole days had now elapsed without
water for the cattle.

I had not slept a wink the two previous nights. The south fork of the
Llano lay over twenty miles distant, and although it had ample water
two weeks before, one of the foremen and I rode through to it that
night to satisfy ourselves. The supply was found sufficient, and
before daybreak we were back in camp, arousing the outfits and
starting the herds. In the spring of 1878 the old military trail, with
its rocky sentinels, was still dimly defined from Nueces Canon north
to the McKinzie water-hole on the South Llano. The herds moved out
with the dawn. Thousands of the cattle were travel-sore, while a few
hundred were actually tender-footed. The evening before, as we came
out into the open country, we had seen quite a local shower of rain in
our front, which had apparently crossed our course nearly ten miles
distant, though it had not been noticeable during our night's ride.
The herds fell in behind one another that morning like columns of
cavalry, and after a few miles their stiffness passed and they led out
as if they had knowledge of the water ahead. Within two hours after
starting we crossed a swell of the mesa, when the lead herd caught a
breeze from off the damp hills to the left where the shower had fallen
the evening before. As they struck this rise, the feverish cattle
raised their heads and pulled out as if that vagrant breeze had
brought them a message that succor and rest lay just beyond. The point
men had orders to let them go, and as fast as the rear herds came up
and struck this imaginary line or air current, a single moan would
surge back through the herd until it died out at the rear. By noon
there was a solid column of cattle ten miles long, and two hours later
the drag and point men had trouble in keeping the different herds from
mixing. Without a halt, by three o'clock the lead foremen were turning
their charges right and left, and shortly afterward the lead cattle
were plunging into the purling waters of the South Llano. The rear
herds turned off above and below, filling the river for five miles,
while the hollow-eyed animals gorged themselves until a half dozen
died that evening and night.

Leaving orders with the foremen to rest their herds well and move out
half a day apart, I rode night and day returning to Uvalde. Catching
the first stage out, I reached San Antonio in time to overtake Major
Hunter, who was awaiting the arrival of the last beef herd from the
lower country, the three lead ones having already passed that point.
All trail outfits from the south then touched at San Antonio to
provision the wagons, and on the approach of our last herd I met it
and spent half a day with it,--my first, last, and only glimpse of our
heavy beeves. They were big rangy fellows many of them six and seven
years old, and from the general uniformity of the herd, I felt proud
of the cowman that my protege and active partner had developed into.
Major Hunter was anxious to reach home as soon as possible, in order
to buy in our complement of northern wintered cattle; so, settling
our business affairs in southern Texas, the day after the rear beeves
passed we took train north. I stopped in the central part of
the State, joining Edwards riding night and day in covering his
appointments to receive cattle; and when the last trail herd moved out
from the Colorado River there were no regrets.

Hastening on home, on my arrival I was assured by my ranch foreman
that he could gather a trail herd in less than a week. My saddle stock
now numbered over a thousand head, one hundred of which were on the
Double Mountain ranch, seven remudas on the trail, leaving available
over two hundred on the Clear Fork. I had the horses and cattle, and
on the word being given my ranch foreman began gathering our oldest
steers, while I outfitted and provisioned a commissary and secured
half a dozen men. On the morning of the seventh day after my arrival,
an individual herd, numbering thirty-five hundred, moved out from the
Clear Fork, every animal in the straight ranch brand. An old trail
foreman was given charge, Dodge City was the destination, and a finer
herd of three-year-olds could not have been found in one brand within
the boundaries of the State. This completed our cattle on the trail,
and a breathing spell of a few weeks might now be indulged in, yet
there was little rest for a cowman. Not counting the contracts to the
Indian Bureau, sublet to others, and the northern wintered beeves,
we had, for the firm and individually, seventeen herds, numbering
fifty-four thousand five hundred cattle on the trail. In order to
carry on our growing business unhampered for want of funds, the firm
had borrowed on short time nearly a quarter-million dollars that
spring, pledging the credit of the three partners for its repayment.
We had been making money ever since the partnership was formed, and
we had husbanded our profits, yet our business seemed to outgrow our
means, compelling us to borrow every spring when buying trail herds.

In the mean time and while we were gathering the home cattle, my
foreman and two men from the Double Mountain ranch arrived on the
Clear Fork to receive the importation of bulls. The latter had not yet
arrived, so pressing the boys into work, we got the trail herd away
before the thoroughbreds put in an appearance. A wagon and three men
from the home ranch had gone after them before my return, and they
were simply loafing along, grazing five to ten miles a day, carrying
corn in the wagon to feed on the grass. Their arrival found the ranch
at leisure, and after resting a few days they proceeded on to their
destination at a leisurely gait. The importation had wintered
finely,--now all three-year-olds,--but hereafter they must subsist on
the range, as corn was out of the question, and the boys had brought
nothing but a pack horse from the western ranch. This was an
experiment with me, but I was ably seconded by my foreman, who had
personally selected every cow over a month before, and this was to
make up the beginning of the improved herd. I accompanied them beyond
my range and urged seven miles a day as the limit of travel. I then
started for home, and within a week reached Dodge City, Kansas.

Headquarters were again established at Dodge. Fortunately a new market
was being developed at Ogalalla on the Platte River in Nebraska, and
fully one third the trail herds passed on to the upper point. Before
my arrival Major Hunter had bought the deficiency of northern wintered
beeves, and early in June three herds started from our range in the
Outlet for the upper Missouri River army posts. We had wintered all
horses belonging to the firm on the beef ranch, and within a fortnight
after its desertion, the young steers from the upper Nueces River
began arriving and were turned loose on the Eagle Chief, preempting
our old range. One outfit was retained to locate the cattle, the
remaining ones coming in to Dodge and returning home by train.
George Edwards lent me valuable assistance in handling our affairs
economically, but with the arrival of the herds at Dodge he was
compelled to look after our sub-contracts at Indian agencies. The
latter were delivered in our name, all money passed through our hands
in settlement, so it was necessary to have a man on the ground to
protect our interests. With nothing but the selling of eight herds of
cattle in an active market like Dodge, I felt that the work of the
summer was virtually over. One cattle company took ten thousand
three-year-old steers, two herds were sold for delivery at Ogalalla,
and the remaining three were placed within a month after their
arrival. The occupation of the West was on with a feverish haste, and
money was pouring into ranches and cattle, affording a ready market to
the drover from Texas.

Nothing now remained for me but to draw the threads of our business
together and await the season's settlement in the fall. I sold all the
wagons and sent the remudas to our range in the Outlet, while from the
first cattle sold the borrowed money was repaid. I visited Ogalalla
to acquaint myself with its market, looked over our beef ranch in the
Cherokee Strip during the lull, and even paid the different Indian
agencies my respects to perfect my knowledge of the requirements of
our business. Our firm was a strong one, enlarging its business year
by year; and while we could not foresee the future, the present was a
Harvest Home to Hunter, Anthony & Co.




CHAPTER XVI

AN ACTIVE SUMMER


The summer of 1878 closed with but a single cloud on the horizon. Like
ourselves, a great many cattlemen had established beef ranches in the
Cherokee Outlet, then a vacant country, paying a trifling rental to
that tribe of civilized Indians. But a difference of opinion arose,
some contending that the Cherokees held no title to the land; that the
strip of country sixty miles wide by two hundred long set aside by
treaty as a hunting ground, when no longer used for that purpose by
the tribe, had reverted to the government. Some refused to pay the
rent money, the council of the Cherokee Nation appealed to the general
government, and troops were ordered in to preserve the peace. We felt
no uneasiness over our holdings of cattle on the Strip, as we were
paying a nominal rent, amounting to two bits a head a year, and were
otherwise fortified in possession of our range. If necessary we could
have secured a permit from the War Department, on the grounds of being
government contractors and requiring a northern range on which to hold
our cattle. But rather than do this, Major Hunter hit upon a happy
solution of the difficulty by suggesting that we employ an Indian
citizen as foreman, and hold the cattle in his name. The major had
an old acquaintance, a half-breed Cherokee named LaFlors, who was
promptly installed as owner of the range, but holding beeves for
Hunter, Anthony & Co., government beef contractors.

I was unexpectedly called to Texas before the general settlement
that fall. Early in the summer, at Dodge, I met a gentleman who was
representing a distillery in Illinois. He was in the market for a
thousand range bulls to slop-feed, and as no such cattle ever came
over the trail, I offered to sell them to him delivered at Fort Worth.
I showed him the sights around Dodge and we became quite friendly,
but I was unable to sell him his requirements unless I could show the
stock. It was easily to be seen that he was not a range cattleman, and
I humored him until he took my address, saying that if he were unable
to fill his wants in other Western markets he would write me later.
The acquaintance resulted in several letters passing between us that
autumn, and finally an appointment was made to meet in Kansas City and
go down to Texas together. I had written home to have the buckboard
meet us at Fort Worth on October 1, and a few days later we were
riding the range on the Brazos and Clear Fork. In the past there never
had been any market for this class of drones, old age and death being
the only relief, and from the great number of brands that I had
purchased during my ranching and trail operations, my range was simply
cluttered with these old cumberers. Their hides would not have paid
freighting and transportation to a market, and they had become an
actual drawback to a ranch, when the opportunity occurred and I sold
twelve hundred head to the Illinois distillery. The buyer informed
me that they fattened well; that there was a special demand for this
quality in the export trade of dressed beef, and that owing to their
cheapness and consequent profit they were in demand for distillery
feeding.

Fifteen dollars a head was agreed on as the price, and we earned it a
second time in delivering that herd at Fort Worth. Many of the animals
were ten years old, surly when irritated, and ready for a fight when
their day-dreams were disturbed. There was no treating them humanely,
for every effort in that direction was resented by the old rascals,
individually and collectively. The first day we gathered two hundred,
and the attempt to hold them under herd was a constant fight,
resulting in every hoof arising on the bed-ground at midnight and
escaping to their old haunts. I worked as good a ranch outfit of men
as the State ever bred, I was right there in the saddle with them,
yet, in spite of every effort, to say nothing of the profanity wasted,
we lost the herd. The next morning every lad armed himself with a
prod-pole long as a lance and tipped with a sharp steel brad, and we
commenced regathering. Thereafter we corralled them at night, which
always called for a free use of ropes, as a number usually broke away
on approaching the pens. Often we hog-tied as many as a dozen, letting
them lie outside all night and freeing them back into the herd in the
morning. Even the day-herding was a constant fight, as scarcely an
hour passed but some old resident would scorn the restraint imposed
upon his liberties and deliberately make a break for freedom. A pair
of horsemen would double on the deserter, and with a prod-pole to his
ear and the pressure of a man and horse bearing their weight on
the same, a circle would be covered and Toro always reentered the
day-herd. One such lesson was usually sufficient, and by reaching
corrals every night and penning them, we managed, after two weeks'
hard work, to land them in the stockyards at Fort Worth. The buyer
remained with and accompanied us during the gathering and en route to
the railroad, evidently enjoying the continuous performance. He
proved a good mixer, too, and returned annually thereafter. For years
following I contracted with him, and finally shipped on consignment,
our business relations always pleasant and increasing in volume until
his death.

Returning with the outfit, I continued on west to the new ranch, while
the men began the fall branding at home. On arriving on the Double
Mountain range, I found the outfit in the saddle, ironing up a big
calf crop, while the improved herd was the joy and pride of my
foreman. An altitude of about four thousand feet above sea-level had
proved congenial to the thoroughbreds, who had acclimated nicely, the
only loss being one from lightning. Two men were easily holding the
isolated herd in their canon home, the sheltering bluffs affording
them ample protection from wintry weather, and there was nothing
henceforth to fear in regard to the experiment. I spent a week with
the outfit; my ranch foreman assured me that the brand could turn
out a trail herd of three-year-old steers the following spring and a
second one of twos, if it was my wish to send them to market. But it
was too soon to anticipate the coming summer; and then it seemed a
shame to move young steers to a northern climate to be matured, yet it
was an economic necessity. Ranch headquarters looked like a trapper's
cave with wolf-skins and buffalo-robes taken the winter before, and it
was with reluctance that I took my leave of the cosy dugouts on the
Double Mountain Fork.

On returning home I found a statement for the year and a pressing
invitation awaiting me to come on to the national capital at once. The
profits of the summer had exceeded the previous one, but some bills
for demurrage remained to be adjusted with the War and Interior
departments, and my active partner and George Edwards had already
started for Washington. It was urged on me that the firm should make
themselves known at the different departments, and the invitation
was supplemented by a special request from our silent partner, the
Senator, to spend at least a month at the capital. For years I had
been promising my wife to take her on a visit to Virginia, and now
when the opportunity offered, womanlike, she pleaded her nakedness in
the midst of plenty. I never had but one suit at a time in my life,
and often I had seen my wife dressed in the best the frontier of Texas
afforded, which was all that ought to be expected. A day's notice was
given her, the eldest children were sent to their grandparents, and
taking the two youngest with us, we started for Fort Worth. I was
anxious that my wife should make a favorable impression on my people,
and in turn she was fretting about my general appearance. Out of a
saddle a cowman never looks well, and every effort to improve his
personal appearance only makes him the more ridiculous. Thus with each
trying to make the other presentable, we started. We stopped a week at
my brother's in Missouri, and finally reached the Shenandoah Valley
during the last week in November. Leaving my wife to speak for herself
and the remainder of the family, I hurried on to Washington and found
the others quartered at a prominent hotel. A less pretentious
one would have suited me, but then a United States senator must
befittingly entertain his friends. New men had succeeded to the War
and Interior departments, and I was properly introduced to each as
the Texas partner of the firm of Hunter, Anthony & Co. Within a week,
several little dinners were given at the hotel, at which from a dozen
to twenty men sat down, all feverish to hear about the West and the
cattle business in particular. Already several companies had
been organized to engage in ranching, and the capital had been
over-subscribed in every instance; and actually one would have
supposed from the chat that we were holding a cattle convention in
the West instead of dining with a few representatives and government
officials at Washington.

I soon became the object of marked attention. Possibly it was my
vocabulary, which was consistent with my vocation, together with my
ungainly appearance, that differentiated me from my partners. George
Edwards was neat in appearance, had a great fund of Western stories
and experiences, and the two of us were constantly being importuned
for incidents of a frontier nature. Both my partners, especially the
Senator, were constantly introducing me and referring to me as a man
who, in the course of ten years, had accumulated fifty thousand cattle
and acquired title to three quarters of a million acres of land. I was
willing to be a sociable fellow among my friends, but notoriety of
this character was offensive, and in a private lecture I took my
partners to task for unnecessary laudation. The matter was smoothed
over, our estimates for the coming year were submitted, and after
spending the holidays with my parents in Virginia, I returned to the
capital to await the allotments for future delivery of cattle to the
Army and Indian service. Pending the date of the opening of the bids
a dinner was given by a senator from one of the Southern States, to
which all members of our firm were invited, when the project was
launched of organizing a cattle company with one million dollars
capital. The many advantages that would accrue where government
influence could be counted on were dwelt upon at length, the rapid
occupation of the West was cited, the concentration of all Indian
tribes on reservations, and the necessary requirements of beef in
feeding the same was openly commented on as the opportunity of the
hour. I took no hand in the general discussion, except to answer
questions, but when the management of such a company was tendered me,
I emphatically declined. My partners professed surprise at my refusal,
but when the privacy of our rooms was reached I unburdened myself on
the proposition. We had begun at the foot of the hill, and now having
established ourselves in a profitable business, I was loath to give it
up or share it with others. I argued that our trade was as valuable as
realty or cattle in hand; that no blandishments of salary as manager
could induce me to forsake legitimate channels for possibilities
in other fields. "Go slow and learn to peddle," was the motto of
successful merchants; I had got out on a limb before and met with
failure, and had no desire to rush in where angels fear for their
footing. Let others organize companies and we would sell them the
necessary cattle; the more money seeking investment the better the
market.

Major Hunter was Western in his sympathies and coincided with my
views, the Senator was won over from the enterprise, and the project
failed to materialize. The friendly relations of our firm were
slightly strained over the outcome, but on the announcement of the
awards we pulled together again like brothers. In the allotment for
delivery during the summer and fall of 1879, some eighteen contracts
fell to us,--six in the Indian Bureau and the remainder to the Army,
four of the latter requiring northern wintered beeves. A single award
for Fort Buford in Dakota called for five million pounds on foot and
could be filled with Southern cattle. Others in the same department
ran from one and a half to three million pounds, varying, as wanted
for future or present use, to through or wintered beeves. The latter
fattened even on the trail and were ready for the shambles on their
arrival, while Southern stock required a winter and time to acclimate
to reach the pink of condition. The government maintained several
distributing points in the new Northwest, one of which was Fort
Buford, where for many succeeding years ten thousand cattle were
annually received and assigned to lesser posts. This was the market
that I knew. I had felt every throb of its pulse ever since I had
worked as a common hand in driving beef to Fort Sumner in 1866. The
intervening years had been active ones, and I had learned the lessons
of the trail, knew to a fraction the cost of delivering a herd, and
could figure on a contract with any other cowman.

Leaving the arrangement of the bonds to our silent partner, the
next day after the awards were announced we turned our faces to the
Southwest. February 1 was agreed on for the meeting at Fort Worth, so
picking up the wife and babies in Virginia, we embarked for our
Texas home. My better half was disappointed in my not joining in the
proposed cattle company, with its officers, its directorate, annual
meeting, and other high-sounding functions. I could have turned into
the company my two ranches at fifty cents an acre, could have sold my
brand outright at a fancy figure, taking stock in lieu for the same,
but I preferred to keep them private property. I have since known
other cowmen who put their lands and cattle into companies, and
after a few years' manipulation all they owned was some handsome
certificates, possibly having drawn a dividend or two and held an
honorary office. I did not then have even the experience of others to
guide my feet, but some silent monitor warned me to stick to my trade,
cows.

Leaving the family at the Edwards ranch, I returned to Fort Worth
in ample time for the appointed meeting. My active partner and our
segundo had become as thick as thieves, the two being inseparable at
idle times, and on their arrival we got down to business at once. The
remudas were the first consideration. Besides my personal holdings
of saddle stock, we had sent the fall before one thousand horses
belonging to the firm back to the Clear Fork to winter. Thus equipped
with eighteen remudas for the trail, we were fairly independent in
that line. Among the five herds driven the year before to our beef
ranch in the Outlet, the books showed not over ten thousand coming
four years old that spring, leaving a deficiency of northern wintered
beeves to be purchased. It was decided to restock the range with
straight threes, and we again divided the buying into departments,
each taking the same division as the year before. The purchase of
eight herds of heavy beeves would thus fall to Major Hunter. Austin
and San Antonio were decided on as headquarters and banking points,
and we started out on a preliminary skirmish. George Edwards had an
idea that the Indian awards could again be relet to advantage, and
started for the capital, while the major and I journeyed on south.
Some former sellers whom we accidentally met in San Antonio complained
that we had forsaken them and assured us that their county, Medina,
had not less than fifty thousand mature beeves. They offered to meet
any one's prices, and Major Hunter urged that I see a sample of the
cattle while en route to the Uvalde country. If they came up to
requirements, I was further authorized to buy in sufficient to fill
our contract at Fort Buford, which would require three herds, or ten
thousand head. It was an advantage to have this delivery start
from the same section, hold together en route, and arrive at their
destination as a unit. I was surprised at both the quality and the
quantity of the beeves along the tributaries of the Frio River, and
readily let a contract to a few leading cowmen for the full allotment.
My active partner was notified, and I went on to the headwaters of the
Nueces River. I knew the cattle of this section so well that there was
no occasion even to look at them, and in a few days contracted for
five herds of straight threes. While in the latter section, word
reached me that Edwards had sublet four of our Indian contacts, or
those intended for delivery at agencies in the Indian Territory. The
remaining two were for tribes in Colorado, and notifying our segundo
to hold the others open until we met, I took stage back to San
Antonio. My return was awaited by both Major Hunter and Edwards, and
casting up our purchases on through cattle, we found we lacked only
two herds of cows and the same of beeves. I offered to make up the
Indian awards from my ranches, the major had unlimited offerings from
which to pick, and we turned our attention to securing young steers
for the open market. Our segundo was fully relieved and ordered back
to his old stamping-ground on the Colorado River to contract for six
herds of young cattle. It was my intention to bring remudas down from
the Clear Fork to handle the cattle from Uvalde and Medina counties,
but my active partner would have to look out for his own saddle stock
for the other beef herds. Hurrying home, I started eight hundred
saddle horses belonging to the firm to the lower country, assigned
two remudas to leave for the Double Mountain ranch, detailed the same
number for the Clear Fork, and authorized the remaining six to report
to Edwards on the Colorado River.

This completed the main details for moving the herds. There was an
increase in prices over the preceding spring throughout the State,
amounting on a general average to fully one dollar a head. We had
anticipated the advance in making our contracts, there was an
abundance of water everywhere, and everything promised well for an
auspicious start. Only a single incident occurred to mar the otherwise
pleasant relations with our ranchmen friends. In contracting for the
straight threes from Uvalde County, I had stipulated that every animal
tendered must be full-aged at the date of receiving; we were paying
an extra price and the cattle must come up to specifications. Major
Hunter had moved his herds out in time to join me in receiving the
last one of the younger cattle, and I had pressed him into use as a
tally clerk while receiving. Every one had been invited to turn in
stock in making up the herd, but at the last moment we fell short
of threes, when I offered to fill out with twos at the customary
difference in price. The sellers were satisfied. We called them by
ages as they were cut out, when a row threatened over a white steer.
The foreman who was assisting me cut the animal in question for a
two-year-old, Major Hunter repeated the age in tallying the steer,
when the owner of the brand, a small ranchman, galloped up and
contended that the steer was a three-year-old, though he lacked fully
two months of that age. The owner swore the steer had been raised a
milk calf; that he knew his age to a day; but Major Hunter firmly yet
kindly told the man that he must observe the letter of the contract
and that the steer must go as a two-year-old or not at all. In reply a
six-shooter was thrown in the major's face, when a number of us rushed
in on our horses and the pistol was struck from the man's hand. An
explanation was demanded, but the only intelligent reply that could be
elicited from the owner of the white steer was, "No G---- d----
Yankee can classify my cattle." One of the ranchmen with whom we
were contracting took the insult off my hands and gave the man his
choice,--to fight or apologize. The seller cooled down, apologies
followed, and the unfortunate incident passed and was forgotten with
the day's work.

A week later the herds on the Colorado River moved out. Major Hunter
and I looked them over before they got away, after which he continued
on north to buy in the deficiency of three thousand wintered beeves,
while I returned home to start my individual cattle. The ranch outfit
had been at work for ten days previous to my arrival gathering the
three-year-old steers and all dry and barren cows. On my return they
had about eight thousand head of mixed stock under herd and two trail
outfits were in readiness, so cutting them separate and culling them
down, we started them, the cows for Dodge and the steers for Ogalalla,
each thirty-five hundred strong. Two outfits had left for the Double
Mountain range ten days before, and driving night and day, I reached
the ranch to find both herds shaped up and ready for orders. Both
foremen were anxious to strike due north, several herds having crossed
Red River as far west as Doan's Store the year before; but I was
afraid of Indian troubles and routed them northeast for the old ford
on the Chisholm trail. They would follow down the Brazos, cross over
to the Wichita River, and pass about sixty miles to the north of the
home ranch on the Clear Fork. I joined them for the first few days
out, destinations were the same as the other private herds, and
promising to meet them in Dodge, I turned homeward. The starting of
these last two gave the firm and me personally twenty-three herds,
numbering seventy-six thousand one hundred cattle on the trail.

An active summer followed. Each one was busy in his department. I met
Major Hunter once for an hour during the spring months, and we never
saw each other again until late fall. Our segundo again rendered
valuable assistance in meeting outfits on their arrival at the beef
ranch, as it was deemed advisable to hold the through and wintered
cattle separate for fear of Texas fever. All beef herds were routed
to touch at headquarters in the Outlet, and thence going north, they
skirted the borders of settlement in crossing Kansas and Nebraska.
Where possible, all correspondence was conducted by wire, and with the
arrival of the herds at Dodge I was kept in the saddle thenceforth.
The demand for cattle was growing with each succeeding year, prices
were firmer, and a general advance was maintained in all grades of
trail stock. On the arrival of the cattle from the Colorado River, I
had them reclassed, sending three herds of threes on to Ogalalla. The
upper country wanted older stock, believing that it withstood the
rigors of winter better, and I trimmed my sail to catch the wind. The
cows came in early and were started west for their destination, the
rear herds arrived and were located, while Dodge and Ogalalla
howled their advantages as rival trail towns. The three herds of
two-year-olds were sold and started for the Cherokee Strip, and I took
train for the west and reached the Platte River, to find our cattle
safely arrived at Ogalalla. Near the middle of July a Wyoming cattle
company bought all the central Texas steers for delivery a month later
at Cheyenne, and we grazed them up the South Platte and counted them
out to the buyers, ten thousand strong. My individual herds classed as
Pan-Handle cattle, exempt from quarantine, netted one dollar a head
above the others, and were sold to speculators from the corn regions
on the western borders of Nebraska. One herd of cows was intended for
the Southern and the other for the Uncompahgre Utes, and they had been
picking their way through and across the mountains to those agencies
during the summer mouths. Late in August both deliveries were made
wholesale to the agents of the different tribes, and my work was at an
end. All unsold remudas returned to Dodge, the outfits were sent home,
and the saddle stock to our beef ranch, there to await the close of
the summer's drive.




CHAPTER XVII

FORESHADOWS


I returned to Texas early in September. My foreman on the Double
Mountain ranch had written me several times during the summer,
promising me a surprise on the half-blood calves. There was nothing
of importance in the North except the shipping of a few trainloads
of beeves from our ranch in the Outlet, and as the bookkeeper could
attend to that, I decided to go back. I offered other excuses for
going, but home-hunger and the improved herd were the main reasons. It
was a fortunate thing that I went home, for it enabled me to get into
touch with the popular feeling in my adopted State over the outlook
for live stock in the future. Up to this time there had been no
general movement in cattle, in sympathy with other branches of
industry, notably in sheep and wool, supply always far exceeding
demand. There had been a gradual appreciation in marketable steers,
first noticeable in 1876, and gaining thereafter about one dollar a
year per head on all grades, yet so slowly as not to disturb or excite
the trade. During the fall of 1879, however, there was a feeling
of unrest in cattle circles in Texas, and predictions of a notable
advance could be heard on every side. The trail had been established
as far north as Montana, capital by the millions was seeking
investment in ranching, and everything augured for a brighter future.
That very summer the trail had absorbed six hundred and fifty thousand
cattle, or possibly ten per cent of the home supply, which readily
found a market at army posts, Indian agencies, and two little cow
towns in the North. Investment in Texas steers was paying fifty to one
hundred per cent annually, the whole Northwest was turning into one
immense pasture, and the feeling was general that the time had come
for the Lone Star State to expect a fair share in the profits of this
immense industry.

Cattle associations, organized for mutual protection and the promotion
of community interests, were active agencies in enlarging the Texas
market. National conventions were held annually, at which every
live-stock organization in the West was represented, and buyer and