CHAPTER VII
THE COLORADO
The month of May found our Circle Dot herd, in spite of all drawbacks,nearly five hundred miles on its way. For the past week we had beentraveling over that immense tableland which skirts the arid portion ofwestern Texas. A few days before, while passing the blue mountainswhich stand as a southern sentinel in the chain marking the headwatersof the Concho River, we had our first glimpse of the hills. In itsalmost primitive condition, the country was generous, supplying everywant for sustenance of horses and cattle. The grass at this stage ofthe season was well matured, the herd taking on flesh in a verygratifying manner, and, while we had crossed some rocky country, lameand sore-footed cattle had as yet caused us no serious trouble.
One morning when within one day's drive of the Colorado River, as ourherd was leaving the bed ground, the last guard encountered a bunch ofcattle drifting back down the trail. There were nearly fifty head ofthe stragglers; and as one of our men on guard turned them to throwthem away from our herd, the road brand caught his eye, and herecognized the strays as belonging to the Ellison herd which hadpassed us at the Indian Lakes some ten days before. Flood's attentiononce drawn to the brand, he ordered them thrown into our herd. It wasevident that some trouble had occurred with the Ellison cattle,possibly a stampede; and it was but a neighborly act to lend anyassistance in our power. As soon as the outfit could breakfast, mount,and take the herd, Flood sent Priest and me to scout the country tothe westward of the trail, while Bob Blades and Ash Borrowstonestarted on a similar errand to the eastward, with orders to throw inany drifting cattle in the Ellison road brand. Within an hour afterstarting, the herd encountered several straggling bands, and as Priestand I were on the point of returning to the herd, we almost overrode abunch of eighty odd head lying down in some broken country. They weregaunt and tired, and The Rebel at once pronounced their stiffenedmovements the result of a stampede.
We were drifting them back towards the trail, when Nat Straw and twoof his men rode out from our herd and met us. "I always did claim thatit was better to be born lucky than handsome," said Straw as he rodeup. "One week Flood saves me from a dry drive, and the very next one,he's just the right distance behind to catch my drift from a nastystampede. Not only that, but my peelers and I are riding Circle Dothorses, as well as reaching the wagon in time for breakfast and liningour flues with Lovell's good chuck. It's too good luck to last, I'mafraid.
"I'm not hankering for the dramatic in life, but we had a run lastnight that would curl your hair. Just about midnight a bunch of rangecattle ran into us, and before you could say Jack Robinson, our dogieshad vamoosed the ranch and were running in half a dozen differentdirections. We rounded them up the best we could in the dark, and thenI took a couple of men and came back down the trail about twenty milesto catch any drift when day dawned. But you see there's nothing likebeing lucky and having good neighbors,--cattle caught, fresh horses,and a warm breakfast all waiting for you. I'm such a lucky dog, it's awonder some one didn't steal me when I was little. I can't help it,but some day I'll marry a banker's daughter, or fall heir to a ranchas big as old McCulloch County."
Before meeting us, Straw had confided to our foreman that he couldassign no other plausible excuse for the stampede than that it was thework of cattle rustlers. He claimed to know the country along theColorado, and unless it had changed recently, those hills to thewestward harbored a good many of the worst rustlers in the State. Headmitted it might have been wolves chasing the range cattle, butthought it had the earmarks of being done by human wolves. Hemaintained that few herds had ever passed that river without loss ofcattle, unless the rustlers were too busy elsewhere to give thepassing herd their attention. Straw had ordered his herd to drop backdown the trail about ten miles from their camp of the night previous,and about noon the two herds met on a branch of Brady Creek. By thattime our herd had nearly three hundred head of the Ellison cattle, sowe held it up and cut theirs out. Straw urged our foreman, whatever hedid, not to make camp in the Colorado bottoms or anywhere near theriver, if he didn't want a repetition of his experience. Afterstarting our herd in the afternoon, about half a dozen of us turnedback and lent a hand in counting Straw's herd, which proved to be overa hundred head short, and nearly half his outfit were still outhunting cattle. Acting on Straw's advice, we camped that night somefive or six miles back from the river on the last divide. From thetime the second guard went on until the third was relieved, we tookthe precaution of keeping a scout outriding from a half to threequarters of a mile distant from the herd, Flood and Honeyman servingin that capacity. Every precaution was taken to prevent a surprise;and in case anything did happen, our night horses tied to the wagonwheels stood ready saddled and bridled for any emergency. But thenight passed without incident.
An hour or two after the herd had started the next morning, four wellmounted, strange men rode up from the westward, and representingthemselves as trail cutters, asked for our foreman. Flood met them, inhis usual quiet manner, and after admitting that we had been troubledmore or less with range cattle, assured our callers that if there wasanything in the herd in the brands they represented, he would gladlyhold it up and give them every opportunity to cut their cattle out. Ashe was anxious to cross the river before noon, he invited the visitorsto stay for dinner, assuring them that before starting the herd in theafternoon, he would throw the cattle together for their inspection.Flood made himself very agreeable, inquiring into cattle and rangematters in general as well as the stage of water in the river ahead.The spokesman of the trail cutters met Flood's invitation to dinnerwith excuses about the pressing demands on his time, and urged, if itdid not seriously interfere with our plans, that he be allowed toinspect the herd before crossing the river. His reasons seemed trivialand our foreman was not convinced.
"You see, gentlemen," he said, "in handling these southern cattle, wemust take advantage of occasions. We have timed our morning's drive soas to reach the river during the warmest hour of the day, or as nearnoon as possible. You can hardly imagine what a difference there is,in fording this herd, between a cool, cloudy day and a clear, hot one.You see the herd is strung out nearly a mile in length now, and tohold them up and waste an hour or more for your inspection wouldseriously disturb our plans. And then our wagon and _remuda_ have goneon with orders to noon at the first good camp beyond the river. Iperfectly understand your reasons, and you equally understand mine;but I will send a man or two back to help you recross any cattle youmay find in our herd. Now, if a couple of you gentlemen will ridearound on the far side with me, and the others will ride up near thelead, we will trail the cattle across when we reach the river withoutcutting the herd into blocks."
Flood's affability, coupled with the fact that the lead cattle werenearly up to the river, won his point. Our visitors could only yield,and rode forward with our lead swing men to assist in forcing the leadcattle into the river. It was swift water, but otherwise an easycrossing, and we allowed the herd, after coming out on the fartherside, to spread out and graze forward at its pleasure. The wagon andsaddle stock were in sight about a mile ahead, and leaving two men onherd to drift the cattle in the right direction, the rest of us rodeleisurely on to the wagon, where dinner was waiting. Flood treated ourcallers with marked courtesy during dinner, and casually inquired ifany of their number had seen any cattle that day or the day previousin the Ellison road brand. They had not, they said, explaining thattheir range lay on both sides of the Concho, and that during the trailseason they kept all their cattle between that river and the mainColorado. Their work had kept them on their own range recently, exceptwhen trail herds were passing and needed to be looked through forstrays. It sounded as though our trail cutters could also usediplomacy on occasion.
When dinner was over and we had caught horses for the afternoon andwere ready to mount, Flood asked our guests for their credentials asduly authorized trail cutters. They replied that they had none, butoffered in explanation the statement that they were merely cutting inthe inter
est of the immediate locality, which required no writtenauthority.
Then the previous affability of our foreman turned to iron. "Well,men," said he, "if you have no authority to cut this trail, then youdon't cut this herd. I must have inspection papers before I can move abrand out of the county in which it is bred, and I'll certainly let noother man, local or duly appointed, cut an animal out of this herdwithout written and certified authority. You know that without beingtold, or ought to. I respect the rights of every man posted on a trailto cut it. If you want to see my inspection papers, you have a rightto demand them, and in turn I demand of you your credentials, showingwho you work for and the list of brands you represent; otherwise noharm's done; nor do you cut any herd that I'm driving."
"Well," said one of the men, "I saw a couple of head in my ownindividual brand as we rode up the herd. I'd like to see the man whosays that I haven't the right to claim my own brand, anywhere I findit."
"If there's anything in our herd in your individual brand," saidFlood, "all you have to do is to give me the brand, and I'll cut itfor you. What's your brand?"
"The 'Window Sash.'"
"Have any of you boys seen such a brand in our herd?" inquired Flood,turning to us as we all stood by our horses ready to start.
"I didn't recognize it by that name," replied Quince Forrest, who rodein the swing on the branded side of the cattle and belonged to thelast guard, "but I remember seeing such a brand, though I would havegiven it a different name. Yes, come to think, I'm sure I saw it, andI'll tell you where: yesterday morning when I rode out to throw thosedrifting cattle away from our herd, I saw that brand among the Ellisoncattle which had stampeded the night before. When Straw's outfit cuttheirs out yesterday, they must have left the 'Window Sash' cattlewith us; those were the range cattle which stampeded his herd. Itlooked to me a little blotched, but if I'd been called on to name it,I'd called it a thief's brand. If these gentlemen claim them, though,it'll only take a minute to cut them out."
"This outfit needn't get personal and fling out their insults,"retorted the claimant of the "Window Sash" brand, "for I'll claim myown if there were a hundred of you. And you can depend that any animalI claim, I'll take, if I have to go back to the ranch and bring twentymen to help me do it."
"You won't need any help to get all that's coming to you," replied ourforeman, as he mounted his horse. "Let's throw the herd together,boys, and cut these 'Window Sash' cattle out. We don't want any cattlein our herd that stampede on an open range at midnight; they mustcertainly be terrible wild."
As we rode out together, our trail cutters dropped behind and kept arespectable distance from the herd while we threw the cattle together.When the herd had closed to the required compactness, Flood called ourtrail cutters up and said, "Now, men, each one of you can take one ofmy outfit with you and inspect this herd to your satisfaction. If yousee anything there you claim, we'll cut it out for you, but don'tattempt to cut anything yourselves."
We rode in by pairs, a man of ours with each stranger, and afterriding leisurely through the herd for half an hour, cut out three headin the blotched brand called the "Window Sash." Before leaving theherd, one of the strangers laid claim to a red cow, but FoxQuarternight refused to cut the animal.
When the pair rode out the stranger accosted Flood. "I notice a cow ofmine in there," said he, "not in your road brand, which I claim. Yourman here refuses to cut her for me, so I appeal to you."
"What's her brand, Fox?" asked Flood.
"She's a 'Q' cow, but the colonel here thinks it's an 'O.' I happen toknow the cow and the brand both; she came into the herd four hundredmiles south of here while we were watering the herd in the NuecesRiver. The 'Q' is a little dim, but it's plenty plain to hold her forthe present."
"If she's a 'Q' cow I have no claim on her," protested the stranger,"but if the brand is an 'O,' then I claim her as a stray from ourrange, and I don't care if she came into your herd when you werewatering in the San Fernando River in Old Mexico, I'll claim her justthe same. I'm going to ask you to throw her."
"I'll throw her for you," coolly replied Fox, "and bet you my saddleand six-shooter on the side that it isn't an 'O,' and even if it was,you and all the thieves on the Concho can't take her. I know a few ofthe simple principles of rustling myself. Do you want her thrown?"
"That's what I asked for."
"Throw her, then," said Flood, "and don't let's parley."
Fox rode back in to the herd, and after some little delay, located thecow and worked her out to the edge of the cattle. Dropping his rope,he cut her out clear of the herd, and as she circled around in anendeavor to reenter, he rode close and made an easy cast of the ropeabout her horns. As he threw his horse back to check the cow, I rodeto his assistance, my rope in hand, and as the cow turned ends, Iheeled her. A number of the outfit rode up and dismounted, and one ofthe boys taking her by the tail, we threw the animal as humanely aspossible. In order to get at the brand, which was on the side, weturned the cow over, when Flood took out his knife and cut the hairaway, leaving the brand easily traceable.
"What is she, Jim?" inquired Fox, as he sat his horse holding the ropetaut.
"I'll let this man who claims her answer that question," repliedFlood, as her claimant critically examined the brand to hissatisfaction.
"I claim her as an 'O' cow," said the stranger, facing Flood.
"Well, you claim more than you'll ever get," replied our foreman."Turn her loose, boys."
The cow was freed and turned back into the herd, but the claimanttried to argue the matter with Flood, claiming the branding iron hadsimply slipped, giving it the appearance of a "Q" instead of an "O" asit was intended to be. Our foreman paid little attention to thestranger, but when his persistence became annoying checked hisargument by saying,--
"My Christian friend, there's no use arguing this matter. You asked tohave the cow thrown, and we threw her. You might as well try to tellme that the cow is white as to claim her in any other brand than a'Q.' You may read brands as well as I do, but you're wasting timearguing against the facts. You'd better take your 'Window Sash' cattleand ride on, for you've cut all you're going to cut here to-day. Butbefore you go, for fear I may never see you again, I'll take thisoccasion to say that I think you're common cow thieves."
By his straight talk, our foreman stood several inches higher in ourestimation as we sat our horses, grinning at the discomfiture of thetrail cutters, while a dozen six-shooters slouched languidly at ourhips to give emphasis to his words.
"Before going, I'll take this occasion to say to you that you will seeme again," replied the leader, riding up and confronting Flood. "Youhaven't got near enough men to bluff me. As to calling me a cow thief,that's altogether too common a name to offend any one; and from what Ican gather, the name wouldn't miss you or your outfit over a thousandmiles. Now in taking my leave, I want to tell you that you'll see mebefore another day passes, and what's more, I'll bring an outfit withme and we'll cut your herd clean to your road brand, if for no betterreasons, just to learn you not to be so insolent."
After hanging up this threat, Flood said to him as he turned to rideaway, "Well, now, my young friend, you're bargaining for a whole lotof fun. I notice you carry a gun and quite naturally suppose you shoota little as occasion requires. Suppose when you and your outfit comeback, you come a-shooting, so we'll know who you are; for I 'llpromise you there's liable to be some powder burnt when you cut thisherd."
Amid jeers of derision from our outfit, the trail cutters drove offtheir three lonely "Window Sash" cattle. We had gained the point wewanted, and now in case of any trouble, during inspection or at night,we had the river behind us to catch our herd. We paid little attentionto the threat of our disappointed callers, but several times Straw'sremarks as to the character of the residents of those hills to thewestward recurred to my mind. I was young, but knew enough, instead ofasking foolish questions, to keep mum, though my eyes and ears drankin everything. Before we had been on the trail over an hour, we mettwo
men riding down the trail towards the river. Meeting us, theyturned and rode along with our foreman, some distance apart from theherd, for nearly an hour, and curiosity ran freely among us boysaround the herd as to who they might be. Finally Flood rode forward tothe point men and gave the order to throw off the trail and make ashort drive that afternoon. Then in company with the two strangers, herode forward to overtake our wagon, and we saw nothing more of himuntil we reached camp that evening. This much, however, our point manwas able to get from our foreman: that the two men were members of adetachment of Rangers who had been sent as a result of informationgiven by the first herd over the trail that year. This herd, which hadpassed some twenty days ahead of us, had met with a stampede below theriver, and on reaching Abilene had reported the presence of rustlerspreying on through herds at the crossing of the Colorado.
On reaching camp that evening with the herd, we found ten of theRangers as our guests for the night. The detachment was under acorporal named Joe Hames, who had detailed the two men we had metduring the afternoon to scout this crossing. Upon the informationafforded by our foreman about the would-be trail cutters, thesescouts, accompanied by Flood, had turned back to advise the Rangersquad, encamped in a secluded spot about ten miles northeast of theColorado crossing. They had only arrived late the day before, and thiswas their first meeting with any trail herd to secure any definiteinformation.
Hames at once assumed charge of the herd, Flood gladly rendering everyassistance possible. We night herded as usual, but during the twomiddle guards, Hames sent out four of his Rangers to scout theimmediate outlying country, though, as we expected, they met with noadventure. At daybreak the Rangers threw their packs into our wagonand their loose stock into our _remuda_, and riding up the trail amile or more, left us, keeping well out of sight. We were all hopefulnow that the trail cutters of the day before would make good theirword and return. In this hope we killed time for several hours thatmorning, grazing the cattle and holding the wagon in the rear. Sendingthe wagon ahead of the herd had been agreed on as the signal betweenour foreman and the Ranger corporal, at first sight of any possebehind us. We were beginning to despair of their coming, when a dustcloud appeared several miles back down the trail. We at once hurriedthe wagon and _remuda_ ahead to warn the Rangers, and allowed thecattle to string out nearly a mile in length.
A fortunate rise in the trail gave us a glimpse of the cavalcade inour rear, which was entirely too large to be any portion of Straw'soutfit; and shortly we were overtaken by our trail cutters of the daybefore, now increased to twenty-two mounted men. Flood wasintentionally in the lead of the herd, and the entire outfit gallopedforward to stop the cattle. When they had nearly reached the lead,Flood turned back and met the rustlers.
"Well, I'm as good as my word," said the leader, "and I'm here to trimyour herd as I promised you I would. Throw off and hold up yourcattle, or I'll do it for you."
Several of our outfit rode up at this juncture in time to hear Flood'sreply: "If you think you're equal to the occasion, hold them upyourself. If I had as big an outfit _as_ you have, I wouldn't ask anyman to help me. I want to watch a Colorado River outfit work aherd,--I might learn something. My outfit will take a rest, or perhapshold the cut or otherwise clerk for you. But be careful and don'tclaim anything that you are not certain is your own, for I reserve theright to look over your cut before you drive it away."
The rustlers rode in a body to the lead, and when they had thrown theherd off the trail, about half of them rode back and drifted forwardthe rear cattle. Flood called our outfit to one side and gave us ourinstructions, the herd being entirely turned over to the rustlers.After they began cutting, we rode around and pretended to assist inholding the cut as the strays in our herd were being cut out. When thered "Q" cow came out, Fox cut her back, which nearly precipitated arow, for she was promptly recut to the strays by the man who claimedher the day before. Not a man of us even cast a glance up the trail,or in the direction of the Rangers; but when the work was over, Floodprotested with the leader of the rustlers over some five or six headof dim-branded cattle which actually belonged to our herd. But he wasexultant and would listen to no protests, and attempted to drive awaythe cut, now numbering nearly fifty head. Then we rode across theirfront and stopped them.
In the parley which ensued, harsh words were passing, when one of ouroutfit blurted out in well feigned surprise,--
"Hello, who's that, coming over there?"
A squad of men were riding leisurely through our abandoned herd,coming over to where the two outfits were disputing.
"What's the trouble here, gents?" inquired Hames as he rode up.
"Who are you and what might be your business, may I ask?" inquired theleader of the rustlers.
"Personally I'm nobody, but officially I'm Corporal in Company B,Texas Rangers--well, if there isn't smiling Ed Winters, the biggestcattle thief ever born in Medina County. Why, I've got papers for you;for altering the brands on over fifty head of 'C' cattle into a 'G'brand. Come here, dear, and give me that gun of yours. Come on, and nofalse moves or funny work or I'll shoot the white out of your eye.Surround this layout, lads, and let's examine them more closely."
At this command, every man in our outfit whipped out his six-shooter,the Rangers leveled their carbines on the rustlers, and in less than aminute's time they were disarmed and as crestfallen a group of men asever walked into a trap of their own setting. Hames got out a "blackbook," and after looking the crowd over concluded to hold the entirecovey, as the descriptions of the "wanted" seemed to include most ofthem. Some of the rustlers attempted to explain their presence, butHames decided to hold the entire party, "just to learn them to be morecareful of their company the next time," as he put it.
The cut had drifted away into the herd again during the arrest, andabout half our outfit took the cattle on to where the wagon camped fornoon. McCann had anticipated an extra crowd for dinner and wasprepared for the emergency. When dinner was over and the Rangers hadpacked and were ready to leave, Hames said to Flood,--
"Well, Flood, I'm powerful glad I met you and your outfit. This hasbeen one of the biggest round-ups for me in a long time. You don'tknow how proud I am over this bunch of beauties. Why, there's liableto be enough rewards out for this crowd to buy my girl a new pair ofshoes. And say, when your wagon comes into Abilene, if I ain't there,just drive around to the sheriff's office and leave those capturedguns. I'm sorry to load your wagon down that way, but I'm short onpack mules and it will be a great favor to me; besides, these fellowsare not liable to need any guns for some little time. I like yourcompany and your chuck, Flood, but you see how it is; the best offriends must part; and then I have an invitation to take dinner inAbilene by to-morrow noon, so I must be a-riding. Adios, everybody."