Chapter I. Opening the Campaign

by Andy Adams

　　"Well, gentlemen, if that is the best rate you can offer us, thenwe'll drive the cattle. My boys have all been over the trailbefore, and your figures are no inducement to ship as far as RedRiver. We are fully aware of the nature of the country, but wecan deliver the herds at their destination for less than you askus for shipping them one third of the distance. No; we'll driveall the way."The speaker was Don Lovell, a trail drover, and the partiesaddressed were the general freight agents of three railroad linesoperating in Texas. A conference had been agreed upon, and we hadcome in by train from the ranch in Medina County to attend themeeting in San Antonio. The railroad representatives were shrewd,affable gentlemen, and presented an array of facts hard toovercome. They were well aware of the obstacles to be encounteredin the arid, western portion of the state, and magnified everypossibility into a stern reality. Unrolling a large state mapupon the table, around which the principals were sitting, theagent of the Denver and Fort Worth traced the trail from BuffaloGap to Doan's Crossing on Red River. Producing what was declaredto be a report of the immigration agent of his line, he showed bystatistics that whole counties through which the old trail ranhad recently been settled up by Scandinavian immigrants. Therepresentative of the Missouri, Kansas, and Texas, whenopportunity offered, enumerated every disaster which had happenedto any herd to the westward of his line in the past five years.The factor of the International was equally well posted."Now, Mr. Lovell," said he, dumping a bundle of papers on thetable, "if you will kindly glance over these documents, I think Ican convince you that it is only a question of a few years untilall trail cattle will ship the greater portion of the way. Hereis a tabulated statement up to and including the year '83. Fromtwenty counties tributary to our line and south of this city, youwill notice that in '80 we practically handled no cattle intendedfor the trail. Passing on to the next season's drive, you see wesecured a little over ten per cent. of the cattle and nearlythirty per cent. of the horse stock. Last year, or for '83,drovers took advantage of our low rates for Red River points, andthe percentage ran up to twenty-four and a fraction, orpractically speaking, one fourth of the total drive. We are ableto offer the same low rates this year, and all arrangements arecompleted with our connecting lines to give live-stock trainscarrying trail cattle a passenger schedule. Now, if you care tolook over this correspondence, you will notice that we haveinquiries which will tax our carrying capacity to its utmost.The 'Laurel Leaf' and 'Running W' people alone have asked for arate on thirty thousand head."But the drover brushed the correspondence aside, and asked forthe possible feed bills. A blanket rate had been given on theentire shipment from that city, or any point south, to WichitaFalls, with one rest and feed. Making a memorandum of the items,Lovell arose from the table and came over to where Jim Flood andI were searching for Fort Buford on a large wall map. We wereboth laboring under the impression that it was in Montana, butafter our employer pointed it out to us at the mouth of theYellowstone in Dakota, all three of us adjourned to an ante-room.Flood was the best posted trail foreman in Don Lovell's employ,and taking seats at the table, we soon reduced the proposedshipping expense to a pro-rata sum per head. The result was notto be considered, and on returning to the main office, ouremployer, as already expressed, declined the proffered rate.Then the freight men doubled on him, asking if he had taken intoconsideration a saving in wages. In a two days' run they wouldlay down the cattle farther on their way than we could possiblydrive in six weeks, even if the country was open, not to sayanything about the wear and tear of horseflesh. But Don Lovellhad not been a trail drover for nearly fifteen years withoutunderstanding his business as well as the freight agents didtheirs. After going over a large lot of other important data, ouremployer arose to take his leave, when the agent of the localline expressed a hope that Mr. Lovell would reconsider hisdecision before spring opened, and send his drive a portion ofthe way by rail."Well, I'm glad I met you, gentlemen," said the cowman atparting, "but this is purely a business proposition, and you andI look at it from different viewpoints. At the rate you offer, itwill cost me one dollar and seventy-five cents to lay a steerdown on Red River. Hold on; mine are all large beeves; and I mustmount my men just the same as if they trailed all the way. Saddlehorses were worth nothing in the North last year, and I kept mineand bought enough others around Dodge to make up a thousand head,and sent them back over the trail to my ranch. Now, it will takesix carloads of horses for each herd, and I propose to charge thefreight on them against the cattle. I may have to winter myremudas in the North, or drive them home again, and if I put twodollars a head freight in them, they won't bring a cent more onthat account. With the cattle it's different; they are all undercontract, but the horses must be charged as general expense, andif nothing is realized out of them, the herd must pay thefiddler. My largest delivery is a sub-contract for Fort Buford,calling for five million pounds of beef on foot. It will takethree herds or ten thousand cattle to fill it. I was anxious togive those Buford beeves an early start, and that was the mainreason in my consenting to this conference. I have three otherearlier deliveries at Indian agencies, but they are not as farnorth by several hundred miles, and it's immaterial whether weship or not. But the Buford contract sets the day of delivery forSeptember 15, and it's going to take close figuring to make acent. The main contractors are all right, but I'm the one that'sgot to scratch his head and figure close and see that there's noleakages. Your freight bill alone would be a nice profit. It maycost us a little for water getting out of Texas, but with thepresent outlet for cattle, it's bad policy to harass the herds.Water is about the best crop some of those settlers along thetrail have to sell, and they ought to treat us right."After the conference was over, we scattered about the city, onvarious errands, expecting to take the night train home. It wasthen the middle of February, and five of the six herds werealready purchased. In spite of the large numbers of cattle whichthe trail had absorbed in previous years, there was still anabundance of all ages, anxious for a market. The demand in theNorth had constantly been for young cattle, leaving the maturedsteers at home. Had Mr. Lovell's contracts that year called forforty thousand five and six year old beeves, instead of twenty,there would have been the same inexhaustible supply from which topick and choose. But with only one herd yet to secure, and ampleofferings on every hand, there was no necessity for a hurry. Manyof the herds driven the year before found no sale, and werecompelled to winter in the North at the drover's risk. In theearly spring of '84, there was a decided lull over the enthusiasmof the two previous years, during the former of which the trailafforded an outlet for nearly seven hundred thousand Texascattle.In regard to horses we were well outfitted. During the summer of'83, Don Lovell had driven four herds, two on Indian contract andtwo of younger cattle on speculation. Of the latter, one was soldin Dodge for delivery on the Purgatory River in southernColorado, while the other went to Ogalalla, and was disposed ofand received at that point. In both cases there was no chance tosell the saddle horses, and they returned to Dodge and were sentto pasture down the river in the settlements. My brother, BobQuirk, had driven one of the other herds to an agency in theIndian Territory. After making the delivery, early in August, onhis employer's orders, he had brought his remuda and outfit intoDodge, the horses being also sent to pasture and the men home toTexas. I had made the trip that year to the Pine Ridge Agency inDakota with thirty-five hundred beeves, under Flood as foreman.Don Lovell was present at the delivery, and as there was no hopeof effecting a sale of the saddle stock among the Indians, afterdelivering the outfit at the nearest railroad, I was given twomen and the cook, and started back over the trail for Dodge withthe remuda. The wagon was a drawback, but on reaching Ogalalla,an emigrant outfit offered me a fair price for the mules andcommissary, and I sold them. Lashing our rations and blankets ontwo pack-horses, we turned our backs on the Platte and crossedthe Arkansaw at Dodge on the seventh day.But instead of the remainder of the trip home by rail, as wefondly expected, the programme had changed. Lovell and Flood hadarrived in Dodge some ten days before, and looking over thesituation, had come to the conclusion it was useless even tooffer our remudas. As remnants of that year's drive, there hadconcentrated in and around that market something like tenthousand saddle horses. Many of these were from central and northTexas, larger and better stock than ours, even though care hadbeen used in selecting the latter. So on their arrival, insteadof making any effort to dispose of our own, the drover and hisforeman had sized up the congested condition of the market, andturned buyers. They had bought two whole remudas, and picked overfive or six others until their purchases amounted to over fivehundred head. Consequently on our reaching Dodge with the PineRidge horses, I was informed that they were going to send all thesaddle stock back over the trail to the ranch and that I was tohave charge of the herd. Had the trip been in the spring and theother way, I certainly would have felt elated over my promotion.Our beef herd that year had been put up in Dimmit County, andfrom there to the Pine Ridge Agency and back to the ranch wouldcertainly be a summer's work to gratify an ordinary ambition.In the mean time and before our arrival, Flood had brought up allthe stock and wagons from the settlement, and established a campon Mulberry Creek, south of Dodge on the trail. He had picked uptwo Texans who were anxious to see their homes once more, and thenext day at noon we started. The herd numbered a thousand andsixty head, twenty of which were work-mules. The commissary whichwas to accompany us was laden principally with harness; andwaving Flood farewell, we turned homeward, leaving behind unsoldof that year's drive only two wagons. Lovell had instructed usnever to ride the same horse twice, and wherever good grass andwater were encountered, to kill as much time as possible. Myemployer was enthusiastic over the idea, and well he might be,for a finer lot of saddle horses were not in the possession ofany trail drover, while those purchased in Dodge could have beenresold in San Antonio at a nice profit. Many of the horses hadrun idle several months and were in fine condition. With theallowance of four men and a cook, a draft-book for personalexpenses, and over a thousand horses from which to choose amount, I felt like an embryo foreman, even if it was a back trackand the drag end of the season. Turning everything scot free atnight, we reached the ranch in old Medina in six weeks, actuallytraveling about forty days.But now, with the opening of the trail season almost at hand, thetrials of past years were forgotten in the enthusiasm of thepresent. I had a distinct recollection of numerous resolves madeon rainy nights, while holding a drifting herd, that this waspositively my last trip over the trail. Now, however, after awinter of idleness, my worst fear was that I might be left athome with the ranch work, and thus miss the season's outingentirely. There were new charms in the Buford contract whichthrilled me,--its numerical requirements, the sight of theYellowstone again, and more, to be present at the largestdelivery of the year to the government. Rather than have missedthe trip, I would have gladly cooked or wrangled the horses forone of the outfits.On separating, Lovell urged his foreman and myself to be at thedepot in good time to catch our train. That our employer'scontracts for the year would require financial assistance, bothof us were fully aware. The credit of Don Lovell was gilt edge,not that he was a wealthy cowman, but the banks and moneyed menof the city recognized his business ability. Nearly every yearsince he began driving cattle, assistance had been extended him,but the promptness with which he had always met his obligationsmade his patronage desirable.Flood and I had a number of errands to look after for the boys onthe ranch and ourselves, and, like countrymen, reached the depotfully an hour before the train was due. Not possessed of enoughgumption to inquire if the westbound was on time, we loiteredaround until some other passengers informed us that it was late.Just as we were on the point of starting back to town, Lovelldrove up in a hack, and the three of us paced the platform untilthe arrival of the belated train."Well, boys, everything looks serene," said our employer, when wehad walked to the farther end of the depot. "I can get all themoney I need, even if we shipped part way, which I don't intendto do. The banks admit that cattle are a slow sale and a shadelower this spring, and are not as free with their money as a yearor two ago. My bankers detained me over an hour until they couldsend for a customer who claimed to have a very fine lot of beevesfor sale in Lasalle County. That he is anxious to sell there isno doubt, for he offered them to me on my own time, and agrees tomeet any one's prices. I half promised to come back next week andgo down with him to Lasalle and look his cattle over. If theyshow up right, there will be no trouble in buying them, whichwill complete our purchases. It is my intention, Jim, to give youthe herd to fill our earliest delivery. Our next two occur sonear together that you will have to represent me at one of them.The Buford cattle, being the last by a few weeks, we will both goup there and see it over with. There are about half a dozen trailforemen anxious for the two other herds, and while they are goodmen, I don't know of any good reason for not pushing my own boysforward. I have already decided to give Dave Sponsilier andQuince Forrest two of the Buford herds, and I reckon, Tom, thelast one will fall to you."The darkness in which we were standing shielded my egotism frompublic view. But I am conscious that I threw out my brisketseveral inches and stood straight on my bow-legs as I thanked oldman Don for the foremanship of his sixth herd. Flood was amused,and told me afterward that my language was extravagant. There isan old superstition that if a man ever drinks out of the RioGrande, it matters not where he roams afterward, he is certain tocome back to her banks again. I had watered my horse in theYellowstone in '82, and ever afterward felt an itching to see heragain. And here the opportunity opened before me, not as a commoncow-hand, but as a trail boss and one of three in filling a fivemillion pound government beef contract! But it was dark and I wasafoot, and if I was a trifle "chesty," there had suddenly comenew colorings to my narrow world.On the arrival of the train, several other westward-bound cowmenboarded it. We all took seats in the smoker, it being but a twohours' run to our destination. Flood and I were sitting wellforward in the car, the former almost as elated over my goodfortune as myself. "Well, won't old Quince be all puffed up,"said Jim to me, "when the old man tells him he's to have a herd.Now, I've never said a word in favor of either one of you. Ofcourse, when Mr. Lovell asked me if I knew certain trail foremenwho were liable to be idle this year, I intimated that he hadplenty of material in his employ to make a few of his own. Theold man may be a trifle slow on reaching a decision, but once hemakes up his mind, he's there till the cows come home. Now, allyou and Quince need to do is to make good, for you couldn't askfor a better man behind you. In making up your outfit, you wantto know every man you hire, and give a preference to gray hairs,for they're not so liable to admire their shadow in sunny or gethomesick in falling weather. Tom, where you made a ten-strikewith the old man was in accepting that horse herd at Dodge lastfall. Had you made a whine or whimper then, the chances are youwouldn't be bossing a herd this year. Lovell is a cowman wholikes to see a fellow take his medicine with a smile."