by Andy Adams
CHAPTER VIII
ON THE BRAZOS AND WICHITA
As we neared Buffalo Gap a few days later, a deputy sheriff of TaylorCounty, who resided at the Gap, rode out and met us. He brought anurgent request from Hames to Flood to appear as a witness against therustlers, who were to be given a preliminary trial at Abilene thefollowing day. Much as he regretted to leave the herd for even asingle night, our foreman finally consented to go. To further hisconvenience we made a long evening drive, camping for the night wellabove Buffalo Gap, which at that time was little more than a landmarkon the trail. The next day we made an easy drive and passed Abileneearly in the afternoon, where Flood rejoined us, but refused any onepermission to go into town, with the exception of McCann with thewagon, which was a matter of necessity. It was probably for the best,for this cow town had the reputation of setting a pace that left thewayfarer purseless and breathless, to say nothing about headaches.Though our foreman had not reached those mature years in life when thepleasures and frivolities of dissipation no longer allure, yet it wasbut natural that he should wish to keep his men from the temptation ofthe cup that cheers and the wiles of the siren. But when the wagonreturned that evening, it was evident that our foreman was human, forwith a box of cigars which were promised us were several bottles ofOld Crow.
After crossing the Clear Fork of the Brazos a few days later, weentered a well-watered, open country, through which the herd madesplendid progress. At Abilene, we were surprised to learn that ourherd was the twentieth that had passed that point. The weather so faron our trip had been exceptionally good; only a few showers hadfallen, and those during the daytime. But we were now nearing acountry in which rain was more frequent, and the swollen condition ofseveral small streams which have their headwaters in the Staked Plainswas an intimation to us of recent rains to the westward of our route.Before reaching the main Brazos, we passed two other herds of yearlingcattle, and were warned of the impassable condition of that river forthe past week. Nothing daunted, we made our usual drive; and when theherd camped that night, Flood, after scouting ahead to the river,returned with the word that the Brazos had been unfordable for over aweek, five herds being waterbound.
As we were then nearly twenty miles south of the river, the nextmorning we threw off the trail and turned the herd to the northeast,hoping to strike the Brazos a few miles above Round Timber ferry. Oncethe herd was started and their course for the day outlined to ourpoint men by definite landmarks, Flood and Quince Forrest set out tolocate the ferry and look up a crossing. Had it not been for ourwagon, we would have kept the trail, but as there was no ferry on theBrazos at the crossing of the western trail, it was a question eitherof waiting or of making this detour. Then all the grazing for severalmiles about the crossing was already taken by the waterbound herds,and to crowd up and trespass on range already occupied would have beena violation of an unwritten law. Again, no herd took kindly to anotherattempting to pass them when in traveling condition the herds were onan equality. Our foreman had conceived the scheme of getting pastthese waterbound herds, if possible, which would give us a clear fielduntil the next large watercourse was reached.
Flood and Forrest returned during the noon hour, the former havingfound, by swimming, a passable ford near the mouth of Monday Creek,while the latter reported the ferry in "apple-pie order." No sooner,then, was dinner over than the wagon set out for the ferry underForrest as pilot, though we were to return to the herd once the ferrywas sighted. The mouth of Monday Creek was not over ten miles belowthe regular trail crossing on the Brazos, and much nearer our nooncamp than the regular one; but the wagon was compelled to make adirect elbow, first turning to the eastward, then doubling back afterthe river was crossed. We held the cattle off water during the day, soas to have them thirsty when they reached the river. Flood had swum itduring the morning, and warned us to be prepared for fifty or sixtyyards of swimming water in crossing. When within a mile, we held upthe herd and changed horses, every man picking out one with a testedability to swim. Those of us who were expected to take the water asthe herd entered the river divested ourselves of boots and clothing,which we intrusted to riders in the rear. The approach to crossing wasgradual, but the opposite bank was abrupt, with only a narrowpassageway leading out from the channel. As the current was certain tocarry the swimming cattle downstream, we must, to make due allowance,take the water nearly a hundred yards above the outlet on the othershore. All this was planned out in advance by our foreman, who nowtook the position of point man on the right hand or down theriverside; and with our saddle horses in the immediate lead, webreasted the angry Brazos.
The water was shallow as we entered, and we reached nearly the middleof the river before the loose saddle horses struck swimming water.Honeyman was on their lee, and with the cattle crowding in their rear,there was no alternative but to swim. A loose horse swims easily,however, and our _remuda_ readily faced the current, though it wasswift enough to carry them below the passageway on the opposite side.By this time the lead cattle were adrift, and half a dozen of us wereon their lower side, for the footing under the cutbank was narrow, andshould the cattle become congested on landing, some were likely todrown. For a quarter of an hour it required cool heads to keep thetrail of cattle moving into the water and the passageway clear on theopposite landing. While they were crossing, the herd represented alarge letter "U," caused by the force of the current drifting thecattle downstream, or until a foothold was secured on the fartherside. Those of us fortunate enough to have good swimming horses swamthe river a dozen times, and then after the herd was safely over, swamback to get our clothing. It was a thrilling experience to us youngerlads of the outfit, and rather attractive; but the elder and moreexperienced men always dreaded swimming rivers. Their reasons weremade clear enough when, a fortnight later, we crossed Red River, wherea newly made grave was pointed out to us, amongst others of men whohad lost their lives while swimming cattle.
Once the bulk of the cattle were safely over, with no danger ofcongestion on the farther bank, they were allowed to loiter alongunder the cutbank and drink to their hearts' content. Quite a numberstrayed above the passageway, and in order to rout them out, BobBlades, Moss Strayhorn, and I rode out through the outlet and up theriver, where we found some of them in a passageway down a dry arroyo.The steers had found a soft, damp place in the bank, and were so busyhorning the waxy, red mud, that they hardly noticed our approach untilwe were within a rod of them. We halted our horses and watched theirantics. The kneeling cattle were cutting the bank viciously with theirhorns and matting their heads with the red mud, but on discovering ourpresence, they curved their tails and stampeded out as playfully asyoung lambs on a hillside.
"Can you sabe where the fun comes in to a steer, to get down on hisknees in the mud and dirt, and horn the bank and muss up his curls andenjoy it like that?" inquired Strayhorn of Blades and me.
"Because it's healthy and funny besides," replied Bob, giving me acautious wink. "Did you never hear of people taking mud baths? You'veseen dogs eat grass, haven't you? Well, it's something on the sameorder. Now, if I was a student of the nature of animals, like you are,I'd get off my horse and imagine I had horns, and scar and otherwisemangle that mud bank shamefully. I'll hold your horse if you want totry it--some of the secrets of the humor of cattle might be revealedto you."
The banter, though given in jest, was too much for this member of acraft that can always be depended on to do foolish things; and when werejoined the outfit, Strayhorn presented a sight no sane man save amember of our tribe ever would have conceived of.
The herd had scattered over several thousand acres after leaving theriver, grazing freely, and so remained during the rest of the evening.Forrest changed horses and set out down the river to find the wagonand pilot it in, for with the long distance that McCann had to cover,it was a question if he would reach us before dark. Flood selected abed ground and camp about a mile out from the river, and those of theoutfit not on herd dragged up an abundance of wood for the nigh
t, andbuilt a roaring fire as a beacon to our absent commissary. Darknesssoon settled over camp, and the prospect of a supperless night wasconfronting us; the first guard had taken the herd, and yet there wasno sign of the wagon. Several of us youngsters then mounted our nighthorses and rode down the river a mile or over in the hope of meetingMcCann. We came to a steep bank, caused by the shifting of the firstbottom of the river across to the north bank, rode up this bluff somelittle distance, dismounted, and fired several shots; then with ourears to the earth patiently awaited a response. It did not come, andwe rode back again. "Hell's fire and little fishes!" said JoeStallings, as we clambered into our saddles to return, "it's notsupper or breakfast that's troubling me, but will we get any dinnerto-morrow? That's a more pregnant question."
It must have been after midnight when I was awakened by the braying ofmules and the rattle of the wagon, to hear the voices of Forrest andMcCann, mingled with the rattle of chains as they unharnessed,condemning to eternal perdition the broken country on the north sideof the Brazos, between Round Timber ferry and the mouth of MondayCreek.
"I think that when the Almighty made this country on the north side ofthe Brazos," said McCann the next morning at breakfast, "the Creatormust have grown careless or else made it out of odds and ends. There'sjust a hundred and one of these dry arroyos that you can't see untilyou are right onto them. They wouldn't bother a man on horseback, butwith a loaded wagon it's different. And I'll promise you all right nowthat if Forrest hadn't come out and piloted me in, you might havetightened up your belts for breakfast and drank out of cow tracks andsmoked cigarettes for nourishment. Well, it'll do you good; this highliving was liable to spoil some of you, but I notice that you are allon your feed this morning. The black strap? Honeyman, get thatmolasses jug out of the wagon--it sits right in front of the chuckbox. It does me good to see this outfit's tastes once more going backto the good old staples of life."
We made our usual early start, keeping well out from the river on acourse almost due northward. The next river on our way was theWichita, still several days' drive from the mouth of Monday Creek.Flood's intention was to parallel the old trail until near the river,when, if its stage of water was not fordable, we would again seek alower crossing in the hope of avoiding any waterbound herds on thatwatercourse. The second day out from the Brazos it rained heavilyduring the day and drizzled during the entire night. Not a hoof wouldbed down, requiring the guards to be doubled into two watches for thenight. The next morning, as was usual when off the trail, Floodscouted in advance, and near the middle of the afternoon's drive wecame into the old trail. The weather in the mean time had faired off,which revived life and spirit in the outfit, for in trail work thereis nothing that depresses the spirits of men like falling weather. Oncoming into the trail, we noticed that no herds had passed since therain began. Shortly afterward our rear guard was overtaken by ahorseman who belonged to a mixed herd which was encamped some four orfive miles below the point where we came into the old trail. Hereported the Wichita as having been unfordable for the past week, butat that time falling; and said that if the rain of the past few dayshad not extended as far west as the Staked Plains, the river would befordable in a day or two.
Before the stranger left us, Flood returned and confirmed thisinformation, and reported further that there were two herds lying overat the Wichita ford expecting to cross the following day. With thisoutlook, we grazed our herd up to within five miles of the river andcamped for the night, and our visitor returned to his outfit withFlood's report of our expectation of crossing on the morrow. But withthe fair weather and the prospects of an easy night, we encampedentirely too close to the trail, as we experienced to our sorrow. Thegrazing was good everywhere, the recent rains having washed away thedust, and we should have camped farther away. We were all sleepy thatnight, and no sooner was supper over than every mother's son of us wasin his blankets. We slept so soundly that the guards were compelled todismount when calling the relief, and shake the next guards on dutyout of their slumber and see that they got up, for men wouldunconsciously answer in their sleep. The cattle were likewise tired,and slept as willingly as the men.
About midnight, however, Fox Quarternight dashed into camp, firing hissix-shooter and yelling like a demon. We tumbled out of our blanketsin a dazed condition to hear that one of the herds camped near theriver had stampeded, the heavy rumbling of the running herd and theshooting of their outfit now being distinctly audible. We lost no timegetting our horses, and in less than a minute were riding for ourcattle, which had already got up and were timidly listening to theapproaching noise. Although we were a good quarter mile from thetrail, before we could drift our herd to a point of safety, thestampeding cattle swept down the trail like a cyclone and our herd wasabsorbed into the maelstrom of the onrush like leaves in a whirlwind.It was then that our long-legged Mexican steers set us a pace thatrequired a good horse to equal, for they easily took the lead, theother herd having run between three and four miles before striking us,and being already well winded. The other herd were Central Texascattle, and numbered over thirty-five hundred, but in running capacitywere never any match for ours.
Before they had run a mile past our camp, our outfit, bunched welltogether on the left point, made the first effort to throw them outand off the trail, and try to turn them. But the waves of an angryocean could as easily have been brought under subjection as ourterrorized herd during this first mad dash. Once we turned a fewhundred of the leaders, and about the time we thought success was inreach, another contingent of double the number had taken the lead;then we had to abandon what few we had, and again ride to the front.When we reached the lead, there, within half a mile ahead, burned thecamp-fire of the herd of mixed cattle which had moved up the trailthat evening. They had had ample warning of impending trouble, just aswe had; and before the running cattle reached them about half a dozenof their outfit rode to our assistance, when we made another effort toturn or hold the herds from mixing. None of the outfit of the firstherd had kept in the lead with us, their horses fagging, and when theforeman of this mixed herd met us, not knowing that we were asinnocent of the trouble as himself, he made some slighting remarksabout our outfit and cattle. But it was no time to be sensitive, andwith his outfit to help we threw our whole weight against the leftpoint a second time, but only turned a few hundred; and before wecould get into the lead again their campfire had been passed and theirherd of over three thousand cattle more were in the run. As cows andcalves predominated in this mixed herd, our own southerners were stillleaders in the stampede.
It is questionable if we would have turned this stampede beforedaybreak, had not the nature of the country come to our assistance.Something over two miles below the camp of the last herd was a deepcreek, the banks of which were steep and the passages few and narrow.Here we succeeded in turning the leaders, and about half the outfit ofthe mixed herd remained, guarding the crossing and turning the laggingcattle in the run as they came up. With the leaders once turned and nochance for the others to take a new lead, we had the entire run ofcattle turned back within an hour and safely under control. The firstoutfit joined us during the interim, and when day broke we had overforty men drifting about ten thousand cattle back up the trail. Thedifferent outfits were unfortunately at loggerheads, no one beingwilling to assume any blame. Flood hunted up the foreman of the mixedherd and demanded an apology for his remarks on our abrupt meetingwith him the night before; and while it was granted, it was plain thatit was begrudged. The first herd disclaimed all responsibility,holding that the stampede was due to an unavoidable accident, theircattle having grown restless during their enforced lay-over. Theindifferent attitude of their foreman, whose name was Wilson, won thefriendly regard of our outfit, and before the wagon of the mixedcattle was reached, there was a compact, at least tacit, between theiroutfit and ours. Our foreman was not blameless, for had we taken theusual precaution and camped at least a mile off the trail, which wasour custom when in close proximity to other herds, we might a
ndprobably would have missed this mix-up, for our herd was inclined tobe very tractable. Flood, with all his experience, well knew that ifstampeded cattle ever got into a known trail, they were certain toturn backward over their course; and we were now paying the fiddlerfor lack of proper precaution.
Within an hour after daybreak, and before the cattle had reached thecamp of the mixed herd, our saddle horses were sighted coming over aslight divide about two miles up the trail, and a minute laterMcCann's mules hove in sight, bringing up the rear. They had made astart with the first dawn, rightly reasoning, as there was no time toleave orders on our departure, that it was advisable for Mahomet to goto the mountain. Flood complimented our cook and horse wrangler ontheir foresight, for the wagon was our base of sustenance; and therewas little loss of time before Barney McCann was calling us to ahastily prepared breakfast. Flood asked Wilson to bring his outfit toour wagon for breakfast, and as fast as they were relieved from herd,they also did ample justice to McCann's cooking. During breakfast, Iremember Wilson explaining to Flood what he believed was the cause ofthe stampede. It seems that there were a few remaining buffalo rangingnorth of the Wichita, and at night when they came into the river todrink they had scented the cattle on the south side. The bellowing ofbuffalo bulls had been distinctly heard by his men on night herd forseveral nights past. The foreman stated it as his belief that a numberof bulls had swum the river and had by stealth approached near thesleeping cattle,--then, on discovering the presence of the herders,had themselves stampeded, throwing his herd into a panic.
We had got a change of mounts during the breakfast hour, and when allwas ready Flood and Wilson rode over to the wagon of the mixed herd,the two outfits following, when Flood inquired of their foreman,--
"Have you any suggestions to make in the cutting of these herds?"
"No suggestions," was the reply, "but I intend to cut mine first andcut them northward on the trail."
"You intend to cut them northward, you mean, provided there are noobjections, which I'm positive there will be," said Flood. "It takesme some little time to size a man up, and the more I see of you duringour brief acquaintance, the more I think there's two or three thingsthat you might learn to your advantage. I'll not enumerate them now,but when these herds are separated, if you insist, it will cost younothing but the asking for my opinion of you. This much you can dependon: when the cutting's over, you'll occupy the same position on thetrail that you did before this accident happened. Wilson, here, hasnothing but jaded horses, and his outfit will hold the herd whileyours and mine cut their cattle. And instead of you cutting north, youcan either cut south where you belong on the trail or sulk in yourcamp, your own will and pleasure to govern. But if you are a cowman,willing to do your part, you'll have your outfit ready to work by thetime we throw the cattle together."
Not waiting for any reply, Flood turned away, and the double outfitcircled around the grazing herd and began throwing the sea of cattleinto a compact body ready to work. Rod Wheat and Ash Borrowstone weredetailed to hold our cut, and the remainder of us, including Honeyman,entered the herd and began cutting. Shortly after we had commenced thework, the mixed outfit, finding themselves in a lonesome minority,joined us and began cutting out their cattle to the westward. When wehad worked about half an hour, Flood called us out, and with thelarger portion of Wilson's men, we rode over and drifted the mixed cutaround to the southward, where they belonged. The mixed outfitpretended they meant no harm, and were politely informed that if theywere sincere, they could show it more plainly. For nearly three hourswe sent a steady stream of cattle out of the main herd into our cut,while our horses dripped with sweat. With our advantage in the start,as well as that of having the smallest herd, we finished our workfirst. While the mixed outfit were finishing their cutting, we changedmounts, and then were ready to work the separated herds. Wilson tookabout half his outfit, and after giving our herd a trimming, duringwhich he recut about twenty, the mixed outfit were given a similarchance, and found about half a dozen of their brand. These cattle ofWilson's and the other herd amongst ours were not to be wondered at,for we cut by a liberal rule. Often we would find a number of ours onthe outside of the main herd, when two men would cut the squad in abunch, and if there was a wrong brand amongst them, it was nomatter,--we knew our herd would have to be retrimmed anyhow, and theother outfits might be disappointed if they found none of their cattleamongst ours.
The mixed outfit were yet working our herd when Wilson's wagon andsaddle horses arrived, and while they were changing mounts, we cut themixed herd of our brand and picked up a number of strays which we hadbeen nursing along, though when we first entered the main herd, strayshad received our attention, being well known to us by ranch brands aswell as flesh marks. In gathering up this very natural flotsam of thetrail, we cut nothing but what our herd had absorbed in its travels,showing due regard to a similar right of the other herds. Our work wasfinished first, and after Wilson had recut the mixed herd, we gave hisherd one more looking over in a farewell parting. Flood asked him ifhe wanted the lead, but Wilson waived his right in his open, frankmanner, saying, "If I had as long-legged cattle as you have, Iwouldn't ask no man for the privilege of passing. Why, you ought toout-travel horses. I'm glad to have met you and your outfit,personally, but regret the incident which has given you so muchtrouble. As I don't expect to go farther than Dodge or Ogalalla at themost, you are more than welcome to the lead. And if you or any ofthese rascals in your outfit are ever in Coryell County, hunt up FrankWilson of the Block Bar Ranch, and I'll promise you a drink of milk orsomething stronger if possible."
We crossed the Wichita late that afternoon, there being not over fiftyfeet of swimming water for the cattle. Our wagon gave us the onlytrouble, for the load could not well be lightened, and it was animperative necessity to cross it the same day. Once the cattle weresafely over and a few men left to graze them forward, the remainder ofthe outfit collected all the ropes and went back after the wagon. Asmules are always unreliable in the water, Flood concluded to swim themloose. We lashed the wagon box securely to the gearing with ropes,arranged our bedding in the wagon where it would be on top, and ranthe wagon by hand into the water as far as we dared without floodingthe wagon box. Two men, with guy ropes fore and aft, were then left toswim with the wagon in order to keep it from toppling over, while theremainder of us recrossed to the farther side of the swimming channel,and fastened our lariats to two long ropes from the end of the tongue.We took a wrap on the pommels of our saddles with the loose end, andwhen the word was given our eight horses furnished abundant motivepower, and the wagon floated across, landing high and dry amid theshoutings of the outfit.
