VI. SOWING WILD OATS

by Andy Adams

　　SOWING WILD OATSThe results from driving cattle north were a surprise to every one. Myemployers were delighted with their experiment, the general expense ofhandling the herd not exceeding fifty cents a head. The enterprise hadnetted over fifty-two thousand dollars, the saddle horses had returnedin good condition, while due credit was given me in the generalmanagement. From my sale accounts I made out a statement, and once myexpenses were approved it was an easy matter to apportion each ownerhis just dues in the season's drive. This over I was free to go myway. The only incident of moment in the final settlement was thewaggish contention of one of the owners, who expressed amazement thatI ever remitted any funds or returned, roguishly admitting that noone expected it. Then suddenly, pretending to have discovered thegoverning motive, he summoned Miss Gertrude, and embarrassed her witha profusion of thanks, averring that she alone had saved him from aloss of four hundred beeves.The next move was to redeem my land scrip. The surveyor was anxiousto buy a portion of it, but I was too rich to part with even a singlesection. During our conversation, however, it developed that he heldhis commission from the State, and when I mentioned my intention oflocating land, he made application to do the surveying. The fact thatI expected to make my locations in another county made no differenceto a free-lance official, and accordingly we came to an agreement. Theapple of my eye was a valley on the Clear Fork, above its juncturewith the main Brazos, and from maps in the surveyor's office I wasable to point out the locality where I expected to make my locations.He proved an obliging official and gave me all the routine details,and an appointment was made with him to report a week later at theEdwards ranch. A wagon and cook would be necessary, chain carriersand flagmen must be taken along, and I began skirmishing about for anoutfit. The three hired men who had been up the trail with me werestill in the country, and I engaged them and secured a cook. GeorgeEdwards loaned me a wagon and two yoke of oxen, even going alonghimself for company. The commissary was outfitted for a month's stay,and a day in advance of the expected arrival of the surveyor theoutfit was started up the Brazos. Each of the men had one or moreprivate horses, and taking all of mine along, we had a remuda ofthirty odd saddle horses. George and I remained behind, and on thearrival of the surveyor we rode by way of Palo Pinto, the county seat,to which all unorganized territory to the west was attached for legalpurposes. Our chief motive in passing the town was to see if therewere any lands located near the juncture of the Clear Fork with themother stream, and thus secure an established corner from which tobegin our survey. But the records showed no land taken up around theconfluence of these watercourses, making it necessary to establish acorner.Under the old customs, handed down from the Spanish to the Texans,corners were always established from natural landmarks. The union ofcreeks arid rivers, mounds, lagoons, outcropping of rock, in factanything unchangeable and established by nature, were used as a pointof commencement. In the locating of Spanish land grants a century anda half previous, sand-dunes were frequently used, and when these oldconcessions became of value and were surveyed, some of the corners hadshifted a mile or more by the action of the wind and seasons on thesand-hills. Accordingly, on overtaking our outfit we headed for thejuncture of the Brazos and Clear Fork, reaching our destination thesecond day. The first thing was to establish a corner or commencementpoint. Some heavy timber grew around the confluence, so, selecting anold patriarch pin oak between the two streams, we notched the treeand ran a line to low water at the juncture of the two rivers. Otherwitness trees were established and notched, lines were run at anglesto the banks of either stream, and a hole was dug two feet deepbetween the roots of the pin oak, a stake set therein, and theexcavation filled with charcoal and covered. A legal corner orcommencement point was thus established; but as the land that Icoveted lay some distance up the Clear Fork, it was necessary first torun due south six miles and establish a corner, and thence run westthe same distance and locate another one.The thirty sections of land scrip would entitle me to a block ofground five by six miles in extent, and I concluded to locate the bulkof it on the south side of the Clear Fork. A permanent camp was nowestablished, the actual work of locating the land requiring about tendays, when the surveyor and Edwards set out on their return. They wereto touch at the county seat, record the established corners andfile my locations, leaving the other boys and me behind. It was myintention to build a corral and possibly a cabin on the land, havingno idea that we would remain more than a few weeks longer. Timber wasplentiful, and, selecting a site well out on the prairie, we began thecorral. It was no easy task; palisades were cut twelve feet long andout of durable woods, and the gate-posts were fourteen inches indiameter at the small end, requiring both yoke of oxen to draw themto the chosen site. The latter were cut two feet longer than thepalisades, the extra length being inserted in the ground, giving thema stability to carry the bars with which the gateway was closed. Tendays were spent in cutting and drawing timber, some of the largerpalisades being split in two so as to enable five men to load them onthe wagon. The digging of the narrow trench, five feet deep, in whichthe palisades were set upright, was a sore trial; but the ground wassandy, and by dint of perseverance it was accomplished. Instead ofa few weeks, over a month was spent on the corral, but when it wasfinished it would hold a thousand stampeding cattle through thestormiest night that ever blew.After finishing the corral we hunted a week. The country was alivewith game of all kinds, even an occasional buffalo, while wild andunbranded cattle were seen daily. None of the men seemed anxious toleave the valley, but the commissary had to be replenished, so two ofus made the trip to Belknap with a pack horse, returning the next daywith meal, sugar, and coffee. A cabin was begun and completed in tendays, a crude but stable affair, with clapboard roof, clay floor,and ample fireplace. It was now late in September, and as the usualbranding season was at hand, cow-hunting outfits might be expected topass down the valley. The advantage of corrals would naturally make myplace headquarters for cowmen, and we accordingly settled down untilthe branding season was over. But the abundance of mavericks and wildcattle was so tempting that we had three hundred under herd when thefirst cow-hunting outfits arrived. At one lake on what is now knownas South Prairie, in a single moonlight night, we roped and tied downforty head, the next morning finding thirty of them unbranded andtherefore unowned. All tame cattle would naturally water in thedaytime, and anything coming in at night fell a victim to our ropes. Awooden toggle was fastened with rawhide to its neck, so it would trailbetween its forelegs, to prevent running, when the wild maverick wasfreed and allowed to enter the herd. After a week or ten days, if ananimal showed any disposition to quiet down, it was again thrown,branded, and the toggle removed. We corralled the little herd everynight, adding to it daily, scouting far and wide for unowned or wildcattle. But when other outfits came up or down the valley of the ClearFork we joined forces with them, tendering our corrals for brandingpurposes, our rake-off being the mavericks and eligible strays. Manya fine quarter of beef was left at our cabin by passing ranchmen, andwhen the gathering ended we had a few over five hundred cattle for ourtime and trouble.Fine weather favored us and we held the mavericks under herd untillate in December. The wild ones gradually became gentle, and withconstant handling these wild animals were located until they wouldcome in of their own accord for the privilege of sleeping in a corral.But when winter approached the herd was turned free, that the cattlemight protect themselves from storms, and we gathered our few effectstogether and started for the settlements. It was with reluctance thatI left that primitive valley. Somehow or other, primal conditionspossessed a charm for me which, coupled with an innate love of theland and the animals that inhabit it, seemed to influence and outlinemy future course of life. The pride of possession was mine; with myown hands and abilities had I earned the land, while the overflow froma thousand hills stocked my new ranch. I was now the owner of landsand cattle; my father in his palmiest days never dreamed of suchpossessions as were mine, while youth and opportunity encouraged me togreater exertions.We reached the Edwards ranch a few days before Christmas. The boyswere settled with and returned to their homes, and I was once moreadrift. Forty odd calves had been branded as the increase of mymavericking of the year before, and, still basking in the smile offortune, I found a letter awaiting me from Major Seth Mabry of Austin,anxious to engage my services as a trail foreman for the comingsummer. I had met Major Seth the spring before at Abilene, and wasinstrumental in finding him a buyer for his herd, and otherwise webecame fast friends. There were no outstanding obligations to myformer employers, so when a protest was finally raised against mygoing, I had the satisfaction of vouching for George Edwards, to themanner born, and a better range cowman than I was. The same group ofranchmen expected to drive another herd the coming spring, and I madeit a point to see each one personally, urging that nothing but choicecattle should be sent up the trail. My long acquaintance with thejunior Edwards enabled me to speak emphatically and to the point,and I lectured him thoroughly as to the requirements of the Abilenemarket.I notified Major Mabry that I would be on hand within a month. Theholiday season soon passed, and leaving my horses at the Edwardsranch, I saddled the most worthless one and started south. The tripwas uneventful, except that I traded horses twice, reaching mydestination within a week, having seen no country en route that couldcompare with the valley of the Clear Fork. The capital city was astraggling village on the banks of the Colorado River, inert throughpolitical usurpation, yet the home of many fine people. Quite a numberof cowmen resided there, owning ranches in outlying and adjoiningcounties, among them being my acquaintance of the year before andpresent employer. It was too early by nearly a month to begin activeoperations, and I contented myself about town, making the acquaintanceof other cowmen and their foremen who expected to drive that year.New Orleans had previously been the only outlet for beef cattlein southern Texas, and even in the spring of '69 very few had anyconfidence of a market in the north. Major Mabry, however, was goingto drive two herds to Abilene, one of beeves and the other of youngersteers, dry cows, and thrifty two-year-old heifers, and I was tohave charge of the heavy cattle. Both herds would be put up in LlanoCounty, it being the intention to start with the grass. Mules were tobe worked to the wagons, oxen being considered too slow, while bothoutfits were to be mounted seven horses to the man.During my stay at Austin I frequently made inquiry for land scrip.Nearly all the merchants had more or less, the current prices beingabout five cents an acre. There was a clear distinction, however,in case one was a buyer or seller, the former being shown everyattention. I allowed the impression to circulate that I would buy,which brought me numerous offers, and before leaving the town Isecured twenty sections for five hundred dollars. I needed just thatamount to cover a four-mile bend of the Clear Fork on the west end ofmy new ranch,--a possession which gave me ten miles of that virginvalley. My employer congratulated me on my investment, and assuredme that if the people ever overthrew the Reconstruction usurpersthe public domain would no longer be bartered away for chips andwhetstones. I was too busy to take much interest in the politicalsituation, and, so long as I was prosperous and employed, gave littleheed to politics.Major Mabry owned a ranch and extensive cattle interests northwest inLlano County. As we expected to start the herds as early as possible,the latter part of February found us at the ranch actively engaged inarranging for the summer's work. There were horses to buy, wagons tooutfit, and hands to secure, and a busy fortnight was spent in gettingready for the drive. The spring before I had started out in debt; now,on permission being given me, I bought ten horses for my own use andinvested the balance of my money in four yoke of oxen. Had I remainedin Palo Pinto County the chances were that I might have enlarged myholdings in the coming drive, as in order to have me remain severaloffered to sell me cattle on credit. But so long as I was enlarging myexperience I was content, while the wages offered me were double whatI received the summer before.We went into camp and began rounding up near the middle of March. Allclasses of cattle were first gathered into one herd, after which thebeeves were cut separate and taken charge of by my outfit. We gathereda few over fifteen hundred of the latter, all prairie-raised cattle,four years old or over, and in the single ranch brand of my employer.Major Seth had also contracted for one thousand other beeves, and itbecame our duty to receive them. These outside contingents would haveto be road-branded before starting, as they were in a dozen or morebrands, the work being done in a chute built for that purpose. Myemployer and I fully agreed on the quality of cattle to be received,and when possible we both passed on each tender of beeves beforeaccepting them. The two herds were being held separate, and a friendlyrivalry existed between the outfits as to which herd would be readyto start first. It only required a few days extra to receive androad-brand the outside cattle, when all were ready to start. As MajorSeth knew the most practical route, in deference to his years andexperience I insisted that he should take the lead until after RedRiver was crossed. I had been urging the Chisholm trail in preferenceto more eastern ones, and with the compromise that I should take thelead after passing Fort Worth, the two herds started on the last dayof March.There was no particular trail to follow. The country was all open,and the grass was coming rapidly, while the horses and cattle wereshedding their winter coats with the change of the season. Fineweather favored us, no rains at night and few storms, and within twoweeks we passed Fort Worth, after which I took the lead. I rememberthat at the latter point I wrote a letter to the elder Edwards,inclosing my land scrip, and asking him to send a man out to my newranch occasionally to see that the improvements were not destroyed.Several herds had already passed the fort, their destination being thesame as ours, and from thence onward we had the advantage of followinga trail. As we neared Red River, nearly all the herds bore off to theeastward, but we held our course, crossing into the Chickasaw Nationat the regular Chisholm ford. A few beggarly Indians, renegades fromthe Kiowas and Comanches on the west, annoyed us for the first week,but were easily appeased with a lame or stray beef. The two herds heldrather close together as a matter of mutual protection, as in someof the encampments were fully fifty lodges with possibly as manyable-bodied warriors. But after crossing the Washita River no furthertrouble was encountered from the natives, and we swept northward atthe steady pace of an advancing army. Other herds were seen in ourrear and front, and as we neared the Kansas line several long columnsof cattle were sighted coming in over the safer eastern routes.The last lap of the drive was reached. A fortnight later we went intocamp within twelve miles of Abilene, having been on the trail twomonths and eleven days. The same week we moved north of the railroad,finding ample range within seven miles of town. Herds were coming inrapidly, and it was important to secure good grazing grounds for ourcattle. Buyers were arriving from every territory in the Northwest,including California, while the usual contingent of Eastern dealers,shippers, and market-scalpers was on hand. It could hardly be saidthat prices had yet opened, though several contracted herds hadalready been delivered, while every purchaser was bearing the marketand prophesying a drive of a quarter million cattle. The drovers,on the other hand, were combating every report in circulation, evenoffering to wager that the arrivals of stock for the entire summerwould not exceed one hundred thousand head. Cowmen reported en routewith ten thousand beeves came in with one fifth the number, andsellers held the whip hand, the market actually opening at betterfigures than the summer before. Once prices were established, I was inthe thick of the fight, selling my oxen the first week to a freighter,constantly on the skirmish for a buyer, and never failing to recognizeone with whom I had done business the summer before. In case MajorMabry had nothing to suit, the herd in charge of George Edwards wasalways shown, and I easily effected two sales, aggregating fifteenhundred head, from the latter cattle, with customers of the yearprevious.But my zeal for bartering in cattle came to a sudden end near theclose of June. A conservative estimate of the arrivals then in sightor known to be en route for Abilene was placed at one hundred andfifty thousand cattle. Yet instead of any weakening in prices, theyseemed to strengthen with the influx of buyers from the corn regions,as the prospects of the season assured a bountiful new crop. WhereStates had quarantined against Texas cattle the law was easilycircumvented by a statement that the cattle were immune from havingwintered in the north, which satisfied the statutes--as there was nodoubt but they had wintered somewhere. Steer cattle of acceptable ageand smoothness of build were in demand by feeders; all classes in factfelt a stimulus. My beeves were sold for delivery north of Cheyenne,Wyoming, the buyers, who were ranchmen as well as army contractors,taking the herd complete, including the remuda and wagon. Under theterms, the cattle were to start immediately and be grazed through. Iwas given until the middle of September to reach my destination, andat once moved out on a northwest course. On reaching the RepublicanRiver, we followed it to the Colorado line, and then tacked northfor Cheyenne. Reporting our progress to the buyers, we were met anddirected to pass to the eastward of that village, where we halteda week, and seven hundred of the fattest beeves were cut out fordelivery at Fort Russell. By various excuses we were detained untilfrost fell before we reached the ranch, and a second and a thirdcontingent of beeves were cut out for other deliveries, making itnearly the middle of October before I was finally relieved.With the exception of myself, a new outfit of men had been secured atAbilene. Some of them were retained at the ranch of the contractors,the remainder being discharged, all of us returning to Cheyennetogether, whence we scattered to the four winds. I spent a week inDenver, meeting Charlie Goodnight, who had again fought his way up thePecos route and delivered his cattle to the contractors at Fort Logan.Continuing homeward, I took the train for Abilene, hesitating whetherto stop there or visit my brother in Missouri before returning toTexas. I had twelve hundred dollars with me, as the proceeds of mywages, horses, and oxen, and, feeling rather affluent, I decided tostop over a day at the new trail town. I knew the market was virtuallyover, and what evil influence ever suggested my stopping at Abileneis unexplainable. But I did stop, and found things just as Iexpected,--everybody sold out and gone home. A few trail foremen werestill hanging around the town under the pretense of attending tounsettled business, and these welcomed me with a fraternal greeting.Two of them who had served in the Confederate army came to me andfrankly admitted that they were broke, and begged me to help themout of town by redeeming their horses and saddles. Feed bills hadaccumulated and hotel accounts were unpaid; the appeals of the rascalswould have moved a stone to pity.The upshot of the whole matter was that I bought a span of mules andwagon and invited seven of the boys to accompany me overland to Texas.My friends insisted that we could sell the outfit in the lower countryfor more than cost, but before I got out of town my philanthropicventure had absorbed over half my savings. As long as I had money thepurse seemed a public one, and all the boys borrowed just as freely asif they expected to repay it. I am sure they felt grateful, and had Ibeen one of the needy no doubt any of my friends would have shared hispurse with me.It was a delightful trip across the Indian Territory, and we reachedSherman, Texas, just before the holidays. Every one had become tiredof the wagon, and I was fortunate enough to sell it without loss.Those who had saddle horses excused themselves and hurried home forthe Christmas festivities, leaving a quartette of us behind. Butbefore the remainder of us proceeded to our destinations two of theboys discovered a splendid opening for a monte game, in which we couldeasily recoup all our expenses for the trip. I was the only dissenterto the programme, not even knowing the game; but under the pressurewhich was brought to bear I finally yielded, and became banker for myfriends. The results are easily told. The second night there was heavyplay, and before ten o'clock the monte bank closed for want of funds,it having been tapped for its last dollar. The next morning I tookstage for Dallas, where I arrived with less than twenty dollars, andspent the most miserable Christmas day of my life. I had writtenGeorge Edwards from Denver that I expected to go to Missouri, andasked him to take my horses and go out to the little ranch and brandmy calves. There was no occasion now to contradict my advice of thatletter, neither would I go near the Edwards ranch, yet I hungered forthat land scrip and roundly cursed myself for being a fool. It wouldbe two months and a half before spring work opened, and what to do inthe mean time was the one absorbing question. My needs were too urgentto allow me to remain idle long, and, drifting south, working whenwork was to be had, at last I reached the home of my soldier cronyin Washington County, walking and riding in country wagons thelast hundred miles of the distance. No experience in my life everhumiliated me as that one did, yet I have laughed about it since.I may have previously heard of riches taking wings, but in thisinstance, now mellowed by time, no injustice will be done by simplyrecording it as the parting of a fool and his money.