XXII. INDEPENDENCE

by Andy Adams

　　INDEPENDENCEThe trail outfit reached the railroad a day in advance of the beeves.Shipping orders were sent to the station agent in advance, and on thearrival of the herd the two outfits made short shift in classifying itfor market and corralling the different grades of cattle.Mr. Stoddard had been located at Trail City. Once the shipment wassafely within the corral, notice was wired the commission firm,affording time for reply before the shipment would leave in the morning.An early call at the station was rewarded by receipt of a wire from thewest. "Read that," said the foreman, handing the telegram to Joel;"wants all three of us to come into the city.""Of course," commented Joel, returning the message. "It's clear enough.There's an understanding between us. At the earliest convenience, afterthe delivery of the herd, we were to meet and draw up the final papers.We'll all go in with this shipment.""And send the outfits across country to Trail City?""Throw the remudas together and let them start the moment the cattletrain leaves. We can go back with Mr. Stoddard and meet the outfits atthe new trail market.""That's the ticket," said the trail boss. "I'm dead tired of ridinghorses and eating at a wagon. Give me the plush cushions and let me putmy little feet under a table once more."The heavy cattle train was promised a special schedule. The outfitsreceived their orders, and at the usual hour in the morning, theshipment started to market. Weathered brown as a saddle, Dell waswalking on clouds, lending a hand to the shipper in charge, riding onthe engine, or hungering for the rare stories with which the trailforeman regaled the train crew. The day passed like a brief hour, thetrain threading its way past corn fields, country homes, and scorning tohalt at the many straggling villages that dotted the route.It was a red-letter day in the affairs of Wells Brothers. The present,their fifth shipment of the year, a total of over nineteen hundredbeeves, was en route to market. Another day, and their operations incattle, from a humble beginning to the present hour, could be condensedinto a simple statement. The brothers could barely wait the interveninghours, and when the train reached the market and they had retired forthe night, speculation ran rife in planning the future. And amid alltheir dreams and air castles, in the shadowy background stood two simplemen whose names were never mentioned except in terms of lovingendearment.Among their many friends, Quince Forrest was Dell's hero. "They're allgood fellows," he admitted, "but Mr. Quince is a prince. He gave us ourstart in cattle. Our debt to him--well, we can never pay it. And henever owned a hoof himself.""We owe Mr. Paul just as much," protested Joel. "He showed us ourchance. When pa died, the settlers on the Solomon talked of making boundboys of us. Mr. Paul was the one who saw us as we are to-day.""I wish mother could have lived to see us now--shipping beeves by thetrain-load--and buying cattle by the thousand."An eager market absorbed the beeves, and before noon they had crossedthe scale. A conference, jubilant in its nature, took place during theafternoon, in the inner office of the commission firm. The execution ofa new contract was a mere detail; but when the chief bookkeeper handedin a statement covering the shipments of this and the previous year, alull in the gayety was followed by a moment of intense interest. Theaccount showed a balance of sixty-odd thousand dollars in favor ofWells Brothers!"Give them a letter of credit for their balance," said Mr. Stoddard,amid the general rejoicing. "And get us some passes; we're all going outto Trail City to-night. There's a few bargains on that market, and theboys want to stock their range fully.""Yours obediently," said the old factor, beaming on his patrons. "And ifthe boys have any occasion to use any further funds, don't hesitate todraw on us. The manner in which they have protected their creditentitles them to our confidence. Our customers come first. Theirprosperity is our best asset. A great future lies before you boys, andwe want a chance to help you reach it. Keep in touch with us; we mayhear of something to your advantage.""In case we need it, can you get us another permit to bring Texas cattleinto Kansas?" eagerly inquired Joel."Try us," answered the old man, with a knowing look. "We may not be ableto, but in securing business, railroads look years ahead."A jolly party of cowmen left for Trail City that night. Morning foundtheir train creeping up the valley of the Arkansas. The old trail marketof Dodge, deserted and forlorn-looking among the wild sunflower, waspassed like a way station. The new market was only a mile over the stateline, in Colorado, and on nearing their destination the partydrew together."I've only got a remnant of a herd left," said Mr. Stoddard, "and I wantyou to understand that there's no obligation to even look at them. Mr.Lovell's at his beef ranch in Dakota, and his men have not been seensince the herds passed north in June. But I'll help you buy any cattleyou want."In behalf of the brothers, Joel accepted the offer. "These Texascattle," he continued, "reach their maturity the summer following theirfourth year. Hereafter, as fast as possible, we want to shape up ourholdings so as to double-winter all our beef cattle. For that reason, weprefer to buy two-year-olds. We'll look at your remnant; there would beno occasion to rebrand, which is an advantage."The train reached Trail City on time. The town was of mushroomgrowth--a straggling business street with fancy fronts, while the outerportions of the village were largely constructed of canvas. The ArkansasRiver passed to the south, numerous creeks put in to the main stream,affording abundant water to the herds on sale, while a bountiful rangesurrounded the market. Shipping pens, branding chutes, and everyfacility for handling cattle were complete.The outfits were not expected in for another day. In the mean time, itbecame rumored about that the two boys who had returned with Mr.Stoddard and his trail foreman were buyers for a herd of cattle. Thepresence of the old cowman threw a barrier of protection around thebrothers, except to his fellow drovers, who were made acquainted withhis protégés and their errand freely discussed."These boys are customers of mine," announced Mr. Stoddard to a group ofhis friends. "I sold them a herd at Dodge last year, and another atOgalalla this summer. Range on the Beaver, in northwest Kansas. Justshipped out their last train of beeves this week. Had them onyesterday's market. From what I gather, they can use about threethousand to thirty-five hundred head. At least their letter of credit isgood for those numbers. Sorry I ain't got the cattle myself. Theynaturally look to me for advice, and I feel an interest in the boys.Their outfit ought to be in by to-morrow."Mr. Stoddard's voucher placed the brothers on a firm footing, and everyattention was shown the young cowmen. An afternoon and a morning'sdrive, and the offerings on the trail market had been carefully lookedover, including the remnant of Mr. Stoddard. Only a few herds possessedtheir original numbers, none of which were acceptable to the buyers,while the smaller ones frequently contained the desired grade and age."Let me put you boys in possession of some facts," urged Mr. Stoddard,in confidence to the brothers. "Most of us drovers are tired out,disgusted with the slight demand for cattle, and if you'll buy out ourlittle remnants and send us home--well, we'd almost let you name theprice. Unless my herds are under contract, this is my last year onthe trail."The remnant of Mr. Stoddard's herd numbered around seven hundred head.They were largely twos, only a small portion of threes, and as aninducement their owner offered to class them at the lesser age, andpriced them at the same figures as those delivered on the Beaver. Onrange markets, there was a difference in the selling value of the twoages, amounting to three dollars a head; and as one third of the cattlewould have classed as threes, Joel waived his objection to their ages."We'll take your remnant on one condition," said he. "Start your outfitshome, but you hang around until we make up our herd.""That's my intention, anyhow," replied Mr. Stoddard. "My advice would beto pick up these other remnants. Two years on a steer makes them allalike. You have seen cripple and fagged cattle come out of the kinks,and you know the advantage of a few cows; keeps your cattle quiet and onthe home range. You might keep an eye open for any bargains inshe stuff.""That's just what Jack Sargent says," said Dell; "that we ought to havea cow to every ten or fifteen steers.""Sargent's our foreman," explained Joel. "He's a Texan, and knows cattleright down to the split in their hoof. With his and your judgment, weought to make up a herd of cattle in a few days."The two outfits came in on the evening of the fourth day. The nextmorning the accepted cattle were counted and received, the throughoutfits relieved, the remudas started overland under a detail, and theremainder of the men sent home by rail. In acquiring a nucleus, WellsBrothers fell heir to a temporary range and camp, which thereafterbecame their headquarters.A single day was wasted in showing the different remnants to Sargent,and relieved of further concern, Mr. Stoddard lent his best efforts tobring buyer and seller together. Barter began in earnest, on thedifferent fragments acceptable in age and quality. Prices on rangecattle were nearly standard, at least established for the present, andany yielding on the part of drovers was in classing and conceding ages.Bargaining began on the smaller remnants, and once the buyers began toreceive and brand, there was a flood of offerings, and the herd was madeup the second day. The ---- Y was run on the different remnants as fastas received, and when completed, the herd numbered a few overthirty-four hundred head. The suggestion to add cows to their holdingswas not overlooked, and in making up the herd, two fragments, numberingnearly five hundred, were purchased."The herd will be a trifle unwieldy," admitted Sargent, "but we're onlygoing to graze home. And unless we get a permit, we had better holdover the line in Colorado until after the first frost.""Don't worry about the permit," admonished Mr. Stoddard; "it's sure.""We'll provision the wagon for a month," said Joel, "and that will takeus home, with or without a bill of health."The commissary was stocked, three extra men were picked up, and the herdstarted northward over the new Ogalalla trail. A week later it crossedthe Kansas Pacific Railroad, when Joel left the herd, returning to theirlocal station. A haying outfit was engaged, placed under the directionof Manly, and after spending a few days at headquarters, the youngcowman returned to the railroad.The expected permit was awaiting him. There was some slight danger inusing it, without first removing their wintered cattle; and after aconference with Manly, it was decided to scout out the country betweentheir range and the Colorado line. The first herd of cattle had locatednicely, one man being sufficient to hold the dead-line; and taking apack horse, Joel and Manly started to explore the country between theupper tributaries of the Beaver and the Colorado line.A rifle was taken along to insure venison. Near the evening of the firstday, a band of wild horses was sighted, the trail of which wasback-tracked to a large lake in the sand hills. On resuming their scoutin the morning, sand dunes were scaled, admitting of an immense surveyof country, but not until evening was water in any quantity encountered.The scouts were beginning to despair of finding water for the night,when an immense herd of antelope was sighted, crossing the plain at aneasy gallop and disappearing among the dunes. Following up the gametrail, a perfect chain of lakes, a mile in length, was found at sunset.A venison was shot and a fat camp for the night assured.The glare of the plain required early observation. The white haze, heatwaves, and mirages were on every hand, blotting out distinct objectsduring the day. On leaving the friendly sand hills, the horsemen boredirectly for the timber on the Republican, which was sighted the thirdmorning, and reached the river by noon.No sign or trace of cattle was seen. The distance between the new andold trail was estimated at one hundred miles, and judging from theirhours in the saddle, the scouts hoped to reach the new crossing on theriver that evening. The mid-day glare prevented observations; and asthey followed the high ground along the Republican, at early eveningindistinct objects were made out on the border of a distant mirage.The scouts halted their horses. On every hand might be seen the opticalillusions of the plain. Beautiful lakes, placid and blue, forests andwhite-capped mountains, invited the horsemen to turn aside and rest. Butthe allurement of the mirage was an old story, and holding the objectsin view, they jogged on, halting from time to time as theillusions lifted.Mirages arise at evening. At last, in their normal proportions, theobjects of concern moved to and fro. "They're cattle!" shouted Manly."We're near a ranch, or it's the herd!""Yonder's a smoke-cloud!" excitedly said Joel. "See it! in the valley!above that motte of cotton-woods!""It's a camp! Come on!"The herd had every appearance of being under control. As the scoutsadvanced, the outline of an immense loose herd was noticeable, and on afar, low horizon, a horseman was seen on duty. On reaching the cattle, asingle glance was given, when the brands told the remainder ofthe story.A detail of men was met leaving camp. Sargent was among them, and afterhearty greetings were over, Joel outlined the programme: "After leavingthe Republican," said he, "there's water between here and home in twoplaces. None of them are over thirty miles apart--a day and a half'sdrive. I have a bill of health for these cattle, and turn the herd downthe river in the morning."The new trail crossing was only a few miles above on the river. The herdhad arrived three days before, and finding grass and water in abundance,the outfit had gone into camp, awaiting word from home. There was noobject in waiting any great distance from headquarters, and after aday's travel down the Republican, a tack was made for the sand hills.A full day's rest was allowed the herd on the chain of lakes. Bywatering early, a long drive was made during the afternoon, followed bya dry camp, and the lagoon where the wild horses had been sighted wasreached at evening the next day.It was yet early in September, and for fear of fever, it was decided toisolate the herd until after the first frost. The camp was within easytouch of headquarters; and leaving Sargent and five men, the commissary,and half the remuda, the remainder returned to the Beaver valley. Thewater would hold the cattle, and even if a month elapsed before frostlifted the ban, the herd would enjoy every freedom.The end of the summer's work was in sight. The men from the Republicanwere paid for their services, commended for their faithfulness, and wenttheir way. Preparations for winter were the next concern; and whileholding the dead-line, plans for two new line-camps were outlined, onebelow the old trail crossing and the other an emergency shelter on thePrairie Dog. Forage had been provided at both points, and in outliningthe winter lines, Joel submitted his idea for Manly's approval."Sargent thinks we can hold the cattle on twenty miles of the Beavervalley," said he, sketching the range on the ground at his feet. "We'llhave to ride lines again, and in case the cattle break through during astorm, we can work from our emergency camp on the Prairie Dog. In casethat line is broken, we can drop down to the railroad and make anotherattempt to check any drift. And as a last resort, whether we hold theline or not, we'll send an outfit as far south as the Arkansas River,and attend the spring round-ups from there north to the Republican. Wehave the horses and men, and no one can throw out a wider drag-net thanour outfit. Let the winter come as it will; we can ride to the leadwhen spring comes."The future of Wells Brothers rested on sure foundations. Except in itsnew environment, their occupation was as old as the human race, ourheroes being merely players in a dateless drama. They belonged to aperiod in the development of our common country, dating from a day whencattle were the corner-stone of one fourth of our national domain. Theyand their kind were our pioneers, our empire builders; for when a cowmanpushed into some primal valley and possessed it with his herd, his ranchbecame an outpost on our frontier. The epoch was truly Western; theirranges were controlled without investment, their cattle roamed thevirgin pastures of an unowned land.Over twenty-five years have passed since an accident changed the courseof the heroes of this story. Since that day of poverty and uncertainoutlook, the brothers have been shaken by adversity, but have arisentriumphant over every storm. From their humble beginning, chronicledhere, within two decades the brothers acquired no less than sevenranches in the Northwest, while their holdings of cattle often ran inexcess of one hundred thousand head. The trail passed away within twoyears of the close of this narrative; but from their wide acquaintancewith former drovers, cattle with which to restock their ranches werebrought north by rail. Their operations covered a wide field, requiringtrusty men; and with the passing of the trail, their first sponsorsfound ready employment with their former protégés. And to-day, in themany irrigation projects of the brothers, in reclaiming the aridregions, among the directors of their companies the names of J.Q.Forrest and John P. Priest may be found.A new generation now occupies the Beaver valley. In the genesis of theWest, the cowman, the successor of the buffalo and Indian, gave way tothe home-loving instinct of man. The sturdy settler crept up the valley,was repulsed again and again by the plain, only to renew his assaultuntil success crowned his efforts. It was then that the brothers sawtheir day and dominion passing into the hands of another. But instead ofturning to new fields, they remained with the land that nurtured andrewarded them, an equally promising field opening in financing vastirrigation enterprises and in conserving the natural water supply.Joel and Dell Wells live in the full enjoyment of fortunes wrested fromthe plain. They are still young men, in the prime of life, while theopportunities of a thrifty country invite their assistance andleadership on every hand. They are deeply interested in everydevelopment of their state, preferring those avenues where heroicendeavor calls forth their best exertion, save in the political arena.Joel Wells was recently mentioned as an acceptable candidate forgovernor of his adopted state, but declined, owing to the pressure ofpersonal interests. In urging his nomination, a prominent paper, famedfor its support of state interests, in a leading editorial, paid one ofour heroes the following tribute:--"... What the state needs is a business man in the executive chair. Weare all stockholders in common, yet the ship of state seems adrift,without chart or compass, pilot or captain. In casting about for agovernor who would fully meet all requirements, one name stands alone.Joel Wells can give M---- a business administration. Educated in therough school of experience, he has fought his way up from a poor boy onthe plains to an enviable leadership in the many industries of thestate. He could bring to the executive office every requirement of thesuccessful business man, and impart to his administration that masterywhich marks every enterprise of Wells Brothers...."The golden age is always with us. If a moral were necessary to adornthis story, it would be that no poor boy need despair of his chance inlife. The future holds as many prizes as the past. Material nature isprodigal in its bounty, and whether in the grass under our feet, or inharnessing the waterfall, we make or mar our success.