XX. HOLDING THE FORT

by Andy Adams

　　HOLDING THE FORTAs in many other lines of business, there were ebb and flood tides incattle. The opening of the trail through to the extreme Northwest gavethe range live stock industry its greatest impetus. There have alwaysbeen seasons of depression and advances, the cycles covering periodsof ten to a dozen years, the duration of the ebb and stationary tidesbeing double that of the flood. Outside influences have had theirbearing, and the wresting of an empire from its savage possessorsin the West, and its immediate occupancy by the dominant race inranching, stimulated cattle prices far beyond what was justified bythe laws of supply and demand. The boom in live stock in the Southwestwhich began in the early '80's stands alone in the market variationsof the last half-century. And as if to rebuke the folly of man andremind him that he is but grass, Nature frowned with two successivesevere winters, humbling the kings and princes of the range.Up to and including the winter of 1883-84 the loss among range cattlewas trifling. The country was new and open, and when the stock coulddrift freely in advance of storms, their instincts carried them to thesheltering coulees, cut banks, and broken country until the blizzardhad passed. Since our firm began maturing beeves ten years before, thelosses attributable to winter were never noticed, nor did they in theleast affect our profits. On my ranches in Texas the primitive lawof survival of the fittest prevailed, the winter-kill falling sorestamong the weak and aging cows. My personal loss was always heavierthan that of the firm, owing to my holdings being mixed stock, and dueto the fact that an animal in the South never took on tallow enoughto assist materially in resisting a winter. The cattle of the Northalways had the flesh to withstand the rigors of the wintry season,dry, cold, zero weather being preferable to rain, sleet, and thenorthers that swept across the plains of Texas. The range of the newcompany was intermediate between the extremes of north and south, andas we handled all steer cattle, no one entertained any fear from theclimate.I passed a comparatively idle winter at my home on the Clear Fork.Weekly reports reached me from the new ranch, several of which causeduneasiness, as our fences were several times cut on the southwest, anda prairie fire, the work of an incendiary, broke out at midnight onour range. Happily the wind fell, and by daybreak the smoke arosein columns, summoning every man on the ranch, and the fire was soonbrought under control. As a precaution to such a possibility we hadburned fire-guards entirely around the range by plowing furrows onehundred feet apart and burning out the middle. Taking advantage ofcreeks and watercourses, natural boundaries that a prairie fire couldhardly jump, we had cut and quartered the pasture with fire-guards insuch a manner that, unless there was a concerted action on the part ofany hirelings of our enemies, it would have been impossible to haveburned more than a small portion of the range at any one time.But these malicious attempts at our injury made the outfit doublyvigilant, and cutting fences and burning range would have provenunhealthful occupations had the perpetrators, red or white, falleninto the hands of the foreman and his men. I naturally looked on thebright side of the future, and in the hope that, once the entire rangewas fenced, we could keep trespassers out, I made preparations for thespring drive.With the first appearance of grass, all the surplus horses wereordered down to Texas from the company ranch. There was a noticeablelull at the cattle convention that spring, and an absence of buyersfrom the Northwest was apparent, resulting in little or no troublein contracting for delivery on the ranch, and in buying on companyaccount at the prevailing prices of the spring before. Cattle werehigh enough as it was; in fact the market was top-heavy and wobblingon its feet, though the brightest of us cowmen naturally supposed thatcurrent values would always remain up in the pictures. As manager ofthe new company, I bought and contracted for fifty thousand steers,ten herds of which were to be driven on company account. All thecattle came from the Pan-Handle and north Texas, above the quarantineline, the latter precaution being necessary in order to avoid anypossibility of fever, in mixing through and northern wintered stock.With the opening of spring two of my old foremen were promoted toassist in the receiving, as my contracts called for everything to bepassed upon on the home range before starting the herds. Some littlefriction had occurred the summer before with the deliveries at thecompany ranch in an effort to turn in short-aged cattle. All contractsthis year and the year before called for threes, and frequentlyseveral hundred long twos were found in a single herd, and I refusedto accept them unless at the customary difference in price. More orless contention arose, and, for the present spring, I proposed to curball friction at home, allotting to my assistants the receiving ofthe herds for company risk, and personally passing on seven undercontract.The original firm was still in the field, operating exclusively incentral Texas and Pan-Handle cattle. Both my ranches sent out theirusual contribution of steers and cows, consigned to the care of thefirm, which was now giving more attention to quality than quantity.The absence of the men from the Northwest at the cattle conventionthat spring was taken as an omen that the upper country would soon besatiated, a hint that retrenchment was in order, and a better class ofstock was to receive the firm's attention in its future operations. Mypersonal contingent of steers would have passed muster in any country,and as to my consignment of cows, they were pure velvet, and coulddefy competition in the upper range markets. Everything moved out withthe grass as usual, and when the last of the company herds had crossedRed River, I rode through to the new ranch. The north and east lineof fence was nearing completion, the western string was joined tothe original boundary, and, with the range fully inclosed, my ranchforeman, the men, and myself looked forward to a prosperous future.The herds arrived and were located, the usual round-up outfits weresent out wherever there was the possibility of a stray, and we settleddown in pastoral security. The ranch outfit had held their own duringthe winter just passed, had trailed down stolen cattle, and knew to acertainty who the thieves were and where they came from. Except whathad been slaughtered, all the stock was recovered, and due noticegiven to offenders that Judge Lynch would preside should any onesuspected of fence-cutting, starting incendiary fires, or stealingcattle be caught within the boundaries of our leases. Fortunately theother cowmen were tiring of paying tribute to the usurpers, and ourdetermined stand heartened holders of cattle on the reservation, manyof whom were now seeking leases direct from the tribes. I made it mybusiness personally to see every other owner of live stock occupyingthe country, and urge upon them the securing of leases and making anorganized fight for our safety. Lessees in the Cherokee Strip hadfenced as a matter of convenience and protection, and I urged the samecourse on the Cheyenne and Arapahoe reservation, offering the free useof our line fences to any one who wished to adjoin our pastures. Inthe course of a month, nearly every acre of the surrounding countrywas taken, only one or two squaw-men holding out, and these claimingtheir ranges under Indian rights. The movement was made so aggressivethat the usurpers were driven into obscurity, never showing their handagain until after the presidential election that fall.During the summer a deputation of Cheyennes and Arapahoes visited meat ranch headquarters. On the last lease taken, and now inclosedin our pasture, there were a number of wild plum groves, coveringthousands of acres, and the Indians wanted permission to gather theripening fruit. Taking advantage of the opportunity, in granting therequest I made it a point to fortify the friendly relations, not onlywith ourselves, but with all other cattlemen on the reservation.Ten days' permission was given to gather the wild plums, camps wereallotted to the Indians, and when the fruit was all gathered, Ibarbecued five stray beeves in parting with my guests. The Indianagent and every cowman on the reservation were invited, and at theconclusion of the festival the Quaker agent made the assembled chiefsa fatherly talk. Torpid from feasting, the bucks grunted approval ofthe new order of things, and an Arapahoe chief, responding in behalfof his tribe, said that the rent from the grass now fed his peoplebetter than under the old buffalo days. Pledging anew the fraternalbond, and appointing the gathering of the plums as an annual festivalthereafter, the tribes took up their march in returning to theirencampment.I was called to Dodge but once during the summer of 1884. My steershad gone to Ogalalla and were sold, the cows remaining at the lowermarket, all of which had changed owners with the exception of onethousand head. The demand had fallen off, and a dull close of theseason was predicted, but I shaded prices and closed up my personalholdings before returning. Several of the firm's steer herds wereunsold at Dodge, but on the approach of the shipping season I returnedto my task, and we began to move out our beeves with seven outfitsin the saddle. Four round trips were made to the crew, shipping outtwenty thousand double and half that number of single wintered cattle.The grass had been fine that summer, and the beeves came up in primecondition, always topping the market as range cattle at the markets towhich they were consigned. That branch of the work over, every energywas centred in making the ranch snug for the winter. Extra fire-guardswere plowed, and the middles burned out, cutting the range into adozen parcels, and thus, as far as possible, the winter forage wassecured for our holdings of eighty thousand cattle. Hay and graincontracts had been previously let, the latter to be freighted in fromsouthern Kansas, when the news reached us that the recent election hadresulted in a political change of administration. What effect thiswould have on our holding cattle on Indian lands was pure conjecture,though our enemies came out of hiding, gloating over the change,and swearing vengeance on the cowmen on the Cheyenne and Arapahoereservation.The turn of the tide in cattle prices was noticeable at all the rangemarkets that fall. A number of herds were unsold at Dodge, among thembeing one of ours, but we turned it southeast early in September andwintered it on our range in the Outlet. The largest drive in thehistory of the trail had taken place that summer, and the failure ofthe West and Northwest to absorb the entire offerings of the droversmade the old firm apprehensive of the future. There was a noticeableshrinkage in our profits from trail operations, but with thesupposition that it was merely an off year, the matter was passed forthe present. It was the opinion of the directors of the new companythat no dividends should he declared until our range was stocked toits full capacity, or until there was a comfortable surplus. Thissuited me, and, returning home, I expected to spend the winter with myfamily, now increased to four girls and six boys.But a cowman can promise himself little rest or pleasure. After adelightful week spent on my western ranch, I returned to the ClearFork, and during the latter part of November a terrible norther sweptdown and caught me in a hunting-camp twenty-five miles from home. Mytwo oldest boys were along, a negro cook, and a few hands, and inspite of our cosy camp, we all nearly froze to death. Nothing but aroaring fire saved us during the first night of its duration, and thenext morning we saddled our horses and struck out for home, ridingin the face of a sleet that froze our clothing like armor. Northerfollowed norther, and I was getting uneasy about the company ranch,when I received a letter from Major Hunter, stating that he wasstarting for our range in the Outlet and predicting a heavy loss ofcattle. Headquarters in the Indian Territory were fully two hundredand fifty miles due north, and within an hour after receiving theletter, I started overland on horseback, using two of my best saddlersfor the trip. To have gone by rail and stage would have taken fourdays, and if fair weather favored me I could nearly divide that timeby half. Changing horses frequently, one day out I had left Red Riverin my rear, but before me lay an uninhabited country, unless I veeredfrom my course and went through the Chickasaw Nation. For the sake ofsecuring grain for the horses, this tack was made, following the oldChisholm trail for nearly one hundred miles. The country was in thegrip of winter, sleet and snow covering the ground, with succor forman and horse far apart. Mumford Johnson's ranch on the Washita Riverwas reached late the second night, and by daybreak the next morning Iwas on the trail, making Quartermaster Creek by one o'clock that day.Fortunately no storms were encountered en route, but King Winter ruledthe range with an iron hand, fully six inches of snow covering thepasture, over which was a crusted sleet capable of carrying the weightof a beef. The foreman and his men were working night and day tosuccor the cattle. Between storms, two crews of the boys driftedeverything back from the south line of fence, while others cut ice andopened the water to the perishing animals. Scarcity of food was themost serious matter; being unable to reach the grass under its coat ofsleet and snow, the cattle had eaten the willows down to the ground.When a boy in Virginia I had often helped cut down basswood and mapletrees in the spring for the cattle to browse upon, and, sending to theagency for new axes, I armed every man on the ranch with one, and webegan felling the cottonwood and other edible timber along the creeksand rivers in the pasture. The cattle followed the axemen like sheep,eating the tender branches of the softer woods to the size of a man'swrist, the crash of a falling tree bringing them by the dozens tobrowse and stay their hunger. I swung an axe with the men, and neverdid slaves under the eye of a task-master work as faithfully or aslong as we did in cutting ice and falling timber in succoring ourholding of cattle. Several times the sun shone warm for a few days,melting the snow off the southern slopes, when we took to our saddles,breaking the crust with long poles, the cattle following to where therange was bared that they might get a bit of grass. Had it not beenfor a few such sunny days, our loss would have been double what itwas; but as it was, with the general range in the clutches of sleetand snow for over fifty days, about twenty per cent, of our holdingswere winter-killed, principally of through cattle.Our saddle stock, outside of what was stabled and grain-fed, bravedthe winter, pawing away the snow and sleet in foraging for theirsubsistence. A few weeks of fine balmy weather in January and Februaryfollowed the distressing season of wintry storms, the cattle takingto the short buffalo-grass and rapidly recuperating. But just whenwe felt that the worst was over, simultaneously half a dozen prairiefires broke out in different portions of the pasture, calling everyman to a fight that lasted three days. Our enemies, not content withhavoc wrought by the elements, were again in the saddle, striking inthe dark and escaping before dawn, inflicting injuries on dumb animalsin harassing their owners. That it was the work of hireling renegades,more likely white than red, there was little question; but thenecessity of preserving the range withheld us from trailing them downand meting out a justice they so richly deserved. Dividing the ranchhelp into half a dozen crews, we rode to the burning grass and begancounter-firing and otherwise resorting to every known method inchecking the consuming flames. One of the best-known devices, in shortgrass and flank-fires, was the killing of a light beef, beheading andsplitting it open, leaving the hide to hold the parts together. Byturning the animal flesh side down and taking ropes from a front andhind foot to the pommels of two saddles, the men, by riding apart,could straddle the flames, virtually rubbing the fire out with thedragging carcass. Other men followed with wet blankets and beat outany remaining flames, the work being carried on at a gallop, with achange of horses every mile or so, and the fire was thus constantlyhemmed in to a point. The variations of the wind sometimes entirelychecked all effort, between midnight and morning being the hours inwhich most progress was accomplished. No sooner was one section of thefire brought under control than we divided the forces and hastenedto lend assistance to the next nearest section, the cooks withcommissaries following up the firefighters. While a single blade ofgrass was burning, no one thought of sleeping, and after one third ofthe range was consumed, the last of the incendiary fires was stampedout, when we lay down around the wagons and slept the sleep ofexhaustion.There was still enough range saved to bring the cattle safelythrough until spring. Leaving the entire ranch outfit to ride thefences--several lines of which were found cut by the renegades inentering and leaving the pasture--and guard the gates, I took trainand stage for the Grove. Major Hunter had returned from the firm'sranch in the Strip, where heavy losses were encountered, thoughit then rested in perfect security from any influence except theelements. With me, the burning of the company range might be renewedat any moment, in which event we should have to cut our own fences andlet the cattle drift south through an Indian country, with nothing tocheck them except Red River. A climax was approaching in the company'sexistence, and the delay of a day or week might mean inestimable loss.In cunning and craftiness our enemies were expert; they knew theircontrol of the situation fully, and nothing but cowardice wouldprevent their striking the final, victorious blow. My old partner andI were a unit as to the only course to pursue,--one which meant adishonorable compromise with our enemies, as the only hope of savingthe cattle. A wire was accordingly sent East, calling a specialmeeting of the stockholders. We followed ourselves within an hour.On arriving at the national capital, we found that all outsideshareholders had arrived in advance of ourselves, and we went intosession with closed doors and the committee on entertainment andbanquets inactive. In as plain words as the English language wouldpermit, as general manager of the company, I stated the cause forcalling the meeting, and bluntly suggested the only avenue of escape.Call it tribute, blackmail, or what you will, we were at the mercyof as heartless a set of scoundrels as ever missed a rope, whosemercenaries, like the willing hirelings that they were, wouldcheerfully do the bidding of their superiors. Major Hunter, in hisremarks before the meeting, modified my rather radical statement,with the more plausible argument that this tribute money was merelyinsurance, and what was five or ten thousand dollars a year, wherean original investment of three millions and our surplus were injeopardy? Would any line--life, fire, or marine--carry our risk ascheaply? These men had been receiving toll from our predecessors, andwere then in a position to levy tribute or wreck the company.Notwithstanding our request for immediate action, an adjournment wastaken. A wire could have been sent to a friend in Fort Reno thatnight, and all would have gone well for the future security of theCheyenne and Arapahoe Cattle Company. But I lacked authority to sendit, and the next morning at the meeting, the New England blood thathad descended from the Puritan Fathers was again in the saddle,shouting the old slogans of no compromise while they had God and righton their side. Major Hunter and I both keenly felt the rebuke,but personal friends prevented an open rupture, while the moreconservative ones saw brighter prospects in the political change ofadministration which was soon to assume the reins of government.A number of congressmen and senators among our stockholders wereprominent in the ascendant party, and once the new régime took charge,a general shake-up of affairs in and around Fort Reno was promised.I remembered the old maxim of a new broom; yet in spite of theblandishments that were showered down in silencing my active partnerand me, I could almost smell the burning range, see the horizonlighted up at night by the licking flames, hear the gloating of ourenemies, in the hour of their victory, and the click of the nippers ofmy own men, in cutting the wire that the cattle might escape and live.I left Washington somewhat heartened. Major Hunter, ever inclinedto look on the bright side of things, believed that the crisis hadpassed, even bolstering up my hopes in the next administration. It wasthe immediate necessity that was worrying me, for it meant a summer'swork to gather our cattle on Red River and in the intermediatecountry, and bring them back to the home range. The mysterious absenceof any report from my foreman on my arrival at the Grove did notmislead me to believe that no news was good news, and I accordinglyhurried on to the front. There was a marked respect shown me by thecivilians located at Fort Reno, something unusual; but I hurried onto the agency, where all was quiet, and thence to ranch headquarters.There I learned that a second attempt to burn the range had beenfrustrated; that one of our boys had shot dead a white man in the actof cutting the east string of fence; that the same night three fireshad broken out in the pasture, and that a squad of our men, in ridingto the light, had run afoul of two renegade Cheyennes armed withwire-nippers, whose remains then lay in the pasture unburied. Bothhorses were captured and identified as not belonging to the Indians,while their owners were well known. Fortunately the wind veeredshortly after the fires started, driving the flames back against theplowed guards, and the attempt to burn the range came to naught.A salutary lesson had been administered to the hirelings of theusurpers, and with a new moon approaching its full, it was believedthat night marauding had ended for that winter. None of our boysrecognized the white man, there being no doubt but he was importedfor the purpose, and he was buried where he fell; but I notified theIndian agent, who sent for the remains of the two renegades and tookpossession of the horses. The season for the beginning of activeoperations on trail and for ranch account was fast approaching, and,leaving the boys to hold the fort during my absence, I took my privatehorses and turned homeward.