THE "LAZY L"
The homeward trip was a picnic. Counting mine, we had one hundred and
fifty saddle horses. All surplus men in the employ of Major Mabry had
been previously sent home until there remained at the close of the
season only the drover, seven men, and myself. We averaged forty miles
a day returning, sweeping down the plains like a north wind until Red
River Station was reached. There our ways parted, and cutting separate
my horses, we bade each other farewell, the main outfit heading for
Fort Worth, while I bore to the westward for Palo Pinto. Major Seth
was anxious to secure my services for another year, but I made
no definite promises. We parted the best of friends. There were
scattering ranches on my route, but driving fifty loose horses made
traveling slow, and it was nearly a week before I reached the Edwards
ranch.
The branding season was nearly over. After a few days' rest, an outfit
of men was secured, and we started for my little ranch on the Clear
Fork. Word was sent to the county seat, appointing a date with the
surveyor, and on arriving at the new ranch I found that the corrals
had been in active use by branding parties. We were soon in the thick
of the fray, easily holding our own, branding every maverick on the
range as well as catching wild cattle. My weakness for a good horse
was the secret of much of my success in ranching during the early
days, for with a remuda of seventy picked horses it was impossible for
any unowned animal to escape us. Our drag-net scoured the hills and
valleys, and before the arrival of the surveyor we had run the "44"
on over five hundred calves, mavericks, and wild cattle. Different
outfits came down the Brazos and passed up the Clear Fork, always
using my corrals when working in the latter valley. We usually joined
in with these cow-hunting parties, extending to them every possible
courtesy, and in return many a thrifty yearling was added to my brand.
Except some wild-cattle hunting which we had in view, every hoof was
branded up by the time the surveyor arrived at the ranch.
The locating of twenty sections of land was an easy matter. We had
established corners from which to work, and commencing on the west end
of my original location, we ran off an area of country, four miles
west by five south. New outside corners were established with
buried charcoal and stakes, while the inner ones were indicated by
half-buried rock, nothing divisional being done except to locate the
land in sections. It was a beautiful tract, embracing a large bend of
the Clear Fork, heavily timbered in several places, the soil being of
a rich, sandy loam and covered with grass. I was proud of my landed
interest, though small compared to modern ranches; and after the
surveying ended, we spent a few weeks hunting out several rendezvous
of wild cattle before returning to the Edwards ranch.
I married during the holidays. The new ranch was abandoned during the
winter months, as the cattle readily cared for themselves, requiring
no attention. I now had a good working capital, and having established
myself by marriage into a respectable family of the country, I found
several avenues open before me. Among the different openings for
attractive investment was a brand of cattle belonging to an estate
south in Comanche County. If the cattle were as good as represented
they were certainly a bargain, as the brand was offered straight
through at four dollars and a half a head. It was represented that
nothing had been sold from the brand in a number of years, the estate
was insolvent, and the trustee was anxious to sell the entire stock
outright. I was impressed with the opportunity, and early in the
winter George Edwards and I rode down to look the situation over. By
riding around the range a few days we were able to get a good idea of
the stock, and on inquiry among neighbors and men familiar with the
brand, I was satisfied that the cattle were a bargain. A lawyer at the
county seat was the trustee, and on opening negotiations with him it
was readily to be seen that all he knew about the stock was that shown
by the books and accounts. According to the branding for the past few
years, it would indicate a brand of five or six thousand cattle. The
only trouble in trading was to arrange the terms, my offer being half
cash and the balance in six months, the cattle to be gathered early
the coming spring. A bewildering list of references was given and we
returned home. Within a fortnight a letter came from the trustee,
accepting my offer and asking me to set a date for the gathering. I
felt positive that the brand ought to run forty per cent steer
cattle, and unless there was some deception, there would be in the
neighborhood of two thousand head fit for the trail. I at once bought
thirty more saddle horses, outfitted a wagon with oxen to draw it,
besides hiring fifteen cow-hands. Early in March we started for
Comanche County, having in the mean time made arrangements with the
elder Edwards to supply one thousand head of trail cattle, intended
for the Kansas market.
An early spring favored the work. By the 10th of the month we were
actively engaged in gathering the stock. It was understood that we
were to have the assistance of the ranch outfit in holding the cattle,
but as they numbered only half a dozen and were miserably mounted,
they were of little use except as herders. All the neighboring ranches
gave us round-ups, and by the time we reached the home range of the
brand I was beginning to get uneasy on account of the numbers under
herd. My capital was limited, and if we gathered six thousand head it
would absorb my money. I needed a little for expenses on the trail,
and too many cattle would be embarrassing. There was no intention on
my part to act dishonestly in the premises, even if we did drop out
any number of yearlings during the last few days of the gathering. It
was absolutely necessary to hold the numbers down to five thousand
head, or as near that number as possible, and by keeping the ranch
outfit on herd and my men out on round-ups, it was managed quietly,
though we let no steer cattle two years old or over escape. When the
gathering was finished, to the surprise of every one the herd counted
out fifty-six hundred and odd cattle. But the numbers were still
within the limits of my capital, and at the final settlement I asked
the privilege of cutting out and leaving on the range one hundred head
of weak, thin stock and cows heavy in calf. I offered to tally-mark
and send after them during the fall branding, when the trustee begged
me to make him an offer on any remnant of cattle, making me full owner
of the brand. I hesitated to involve myself deeper in debt, but when
he finally offered me the "Lazy L" brand outright for the sum of one
thousand dollars, and on a credit, I never stuttered in accepting his
proposal.
I culled back one hundred before starting, there being no occasion now
to tally-mark, as I was in full possession of the brand. This amount
of cattle in one herd was unwieldy to handle. The first day's drive we
scarcely made ten miles, it being nearly impossible to water such an
unmanageable body of animals, even from a running stream. The second
noon we cut separate all the steers two years old and upward, finding
a few under twenty-three hundred in the latter class. This left three
thousand and odd hundred in the mixed herd, running from yearlings to
old range bulls. A few extra men were secured, and some progress was
made for the next few days, the steers keeping well in the lead, the
two herds using the same wagon, and camping within half a mile of each
other at night. It was fully ninety miles to the Edwards ranch; and
when about two thirds the distance was covered, a messenger met us
and reported the home cattle under herd and ready to start. It still
lacked two days of the appointed time for our return, but rather than
disappoint any one, I took seven men and sixty horses with the lead
herd and started in to the ranch, leaving the mixed cattle to follow
with the wagon. We took a day's rations on a pack horse, touched at a
ranch, and on the second evening reached home. My contingent to the
trail herd would have classified approximately seven hundred twos, six
hundred threes, and one thousand four years old or over.
The next morning the herd started up the trail under George Edwards
as foreman. It numbered a few over thirty-three hundred head and had
fourteen men, all told, and ninety-odd horses, with four good mules to
a new wagon. I promised to overtake them within a week, and the same
evening rejoined the mixed herd some ten miles back down the country.
Calves were dropping at an alarming rate, fully twenty of them were in
the wagon, their advent delaying the progress of the herd. By dint of
great exertion we managed to reach the ranch the next evening, where
we lay over a day and rigged up a second wagon, purposely for calves.
It was the intention to send the stock cattle to my new ranch on the
Clear Fork, and releasing all but four men, the idle help about the
home ranch were substituted. In moving cattle from one range to
another, it should always be done with the coming of grass, as it
gives them a full summer to locate and become attached to their new
range. When possible, the coming calf crop should be born where the
mothers are to be located, as it strengthens the ties between an
animal and its range by making sacred the birthplace of its young.
From instinctive warnings of maternity, cows will frequently return to
the same retreat annually to give birth to their calves.
It was about fifty miles between the home and the new ranch. As it was
important to get the cattle located as soon as possible, they were
accordingly started with but the loss of a single day. Two wagons
accompanied them, every calf was saved, and by nursing the herd early
and late we managed to average ten miles between sunrise and sunset.
The elder Edwards, anxious to see the new ranch, accompanied us, his
patience with a cow being something remarkable. When we lacked but a
day's drive of the Clear Fork it was considered advisable for me
to return. Once the cattle reached the new range, four men would
loose-herd them for a month, after which they would continue to ride
the range and turn back all stragglers. The veteran cowman assumed
control, and I returned to the home ranch, where a horse had been left
on which to overtake the trail herd. My wife caught several glimpses
of me that spring; with stocking a new ranch and starting a herd on
the trail I was as busy as the proverbial cranberry-merchant. Where
a year before I was moneyless, now my obligations were accepted for
nearly fourteen thousand dollars.
I overtook the herd within one day's drive of Red River. Everything
was moving nicely, the cattle were well trail-broken, not a run had
occurred, and all was serene and lovely. We crossed into the Nations
at the regular ford, nothing of importance occurring until we reached
the Washita River. The Indians had been bothering us more or less, but
we brushed them aside or appeased their begging with a stray beef.
At the crossing of the Washita quite an encampment had congregated,
demanding six cattle and threatening to dispute our entrance to the
ford. Several of the boys with us pretended to understand the sign
language, and this resulted in an animosity being engendered between
two of the outfit over interpreting a sign made by a chief. After we
had given the Indians two strays, quite a band of bucks gathered on
foot at the crossing, refusing to let us pass until their demand had
been fulfilled. We had a few carbines, every lad had a six-shooter or
two, and, summoning every mounted man, we rode up to the ford. The
braves outnumbered us about three to one, and it was easy to be seen
that they had bows and arrows concealed under their blankets. I was
determined to give up no more cattle, and in the powwow that followed
the chief of the band became very defiant. I accused him and his band
of being armed, and when he denied it one of the boys jumped a horse
against the chief, knocking him down. In the mêlée, the leader's
blanket was thrown from him, exposing a strung bow and quiver of
arrows, and at the same instant every man brought his carbine or
six-shooter to bear on the astonished braves. Not a shot was fired,
nor was there any further resistance offered on the part of the
Indians; but as they turned to leave the humiliated chief pointed to
the sun and made a circle around his head as if to indicate a threat
of scalping.
It was in interpreting this latter sign that the dispute arose between
two of the outfit. One of the boys contended that I was to be scalped
before the sun set, while the other interpreted the threat that we
would all he scalped before the sun rose again. Neither version
troubled me, but the two fellows quarreled over the matter while
returning to the herd, until the lie was passed and their six-shooters
began talking. Fortunately they were both mounted on horses that were
gun-shy, and with the rearing and plunging the shots went wild. Every
man in the outfit interfered, the two fellows were disarmed, and we
started on with the cattle. No interference was offered by the Indians
at the ford, the guards were doubled that night, and the incident was
forgotten within a week. I simply mention this to give some idea of
the men of that day, willing to back their opinions, even on trivial
matters, with their lives. "I'm the quickest man on the trigger that
ever came over the trail," said a cowpuncher to me one night in a
saloon in Abilene. "You're a blankety blank liar," said a quiet little
man, a perfect stranger to both of us, not even casting a glance our
way. I wrested a six-shooter from the hand of my acquaintance
and hustled him out of the house, getting roundly cursed for my
interference, though no doubt I saved human life.
On reaching Stone's Store, on the Kansas line, I left the herd to
follow, and arrived at Abilene in two days and a half. Only some
twenty-five herds were ahead of ours, though I must have passed a
dozen or more in my brief ride, staying over night with them and
scarcely ever missing a meal on the road. My motive in reaching
Abilene in advance of our cattle was to get in touch with the market,
secure my trading-corrals again, and perfect my arrangements to do a
commission business. But on arriving, instead of having the field to
myself, I found the old corrals occupied by a trio of jobbers, while
two new ones had been built within ten miles of town, and half a dozen
firms were offering their services as salesmen. There was a lack of
actual buyers, at least among my acquaintances, and the railroads had
adjusted their rates, while a largely increased drive was predicted.
The spring had been a wet one, the grass was washy and devoid of
nutriment, and there was nothing in the outlook of an encouraging
nature. Yet the majority of the drovers were very optimistic of the
future, freely predicting better prices than ever before, while many
declared their intention of wintering in case their hopes were not
realized. By the time our herd arrived, I had grown timid of the
market in general and was willing to sell out and go home. I make
no pretension to having any extra foresight, probably it was my
outstanding obligations in Texas that fostered my anxiety, but I was
prepared to sell to the first man who talked business.
Our cattle arrived in good condition. The weather continued wet and
stormy, the rank grass harbored myriads of flies and mosquitoes, and
the through cattle failed to take on flesh as in former years. Rival
towns were competing for the trail business, wintered cattle were
lower, and a perfect chaos existed as to future prices, drovers
bolstering and pretended buyers depressing them. Within a week after
their arrival I sold fifteen hundred of our heaviest beeves to an army
contractor from Fort Russell in Dakota. He had brought his own outfit
down to receive the cattle, and as his contract called for a million
and a half pounds on foot, I assisted him in buying sixteen hundred
more. The contractor was a shrewd Yankee, and although I admitted
having served in the Confederate army, he offered to form a
partnership with me for supplying beef to the army posts along the
upper Missouri River. He gave me an insight into the profits in that
particular trade, and even urged the partnership, but while the
opportunity was a golden one, I was distrustful of a Northern man
and declined the alliance. Within a year I regretted not forming the
partnership, as the government was a stable patron, and my adopted
State had any quantity of beef cattle.
My brother paid me a visit during the latter part of June. We had not
seen each other in five years, during which time he had developed into
a prosperous stockman, feeding cattle every winter on his Missouri
farm. He was anxious to interest me in corn-feeding steers, but I had
my hands full at home, and within a week he went on west and bought
two hundred Colorado natives, shipping them home to feed the coming
winter. Meanwhile a perfect glut of cattle was arriving at Abilene,
fully six hundred thousand having registered at Stone's Store on
passing into Kansas, yet prices remained firm, considering the
condition of the stock. Many drovers halted only a day or two, and
turned westward looking for ranges on which to winter their herds.
Barely half the arrivals were even offered, which afforded fair prices
to those who wished to sell. Before the middle of July the last of
ours was closed out at satisfactory prices, and the next day the
outfit started home, leaving me behind. I was anxious to secure an
extra remuda of horses, and, finding no opposition in that particular
field, had traded extensively in saddle stock ever since my arrival
at Abilene. Gentle horses were in good demand among shippers and
ranchmen, and during my brief stay I must have handled a thousand
head, buying whole remudas and retailing in quantities to suit, not
failing to keep the choice ones for my own use. Within two weeks after
George Edwards started home, I closed up my business, fell in with a
returning outfit, and started back with one hundred and ten picked
saddle horses. After crossing Red River, I hired a boy to assist me
in driving the remuda, and I reached home only ten days behind the
others.
I was now the proud possessor of over two hundred saddle horses which
had actually cost me nothing. To use a borrowed term, they were the
"velvet" of my trading operations. I hardly feel able to convey an
idea of the important rôle that the horses play in the operations of
a cowman. Whether on the trail or on the ranch, there is a complete
helplessness when the men are not properly mounted and able to cope
with any emergency that may arise. On the contrary, and especially
in trail work, when men are well mounted, there is no excuse for not
riding in the lead of any stampede, drifting with the herd on the
stormiest night, or trailing lost cattle until overtaken. Owing to
the nature of the occupation, a man may be frequently wet, cold, and
hungry, and entitled to little sympathy; but once he feels that he is
no longer mounted, his grievance becomes a real one. The cow-horse
subsisted on the range, and if ever used to exhaustion was worthless
for weeks afterward. Hence the value of a good mount in numbers, and
the importance of frequent changes when the duties were arduous. The
importance of good horses was first impressed on me during my trips to
Fort Sumner, and I then resolved that if fortune ever favored me to
reach the prominence of a cowman, the saddle stock would have my first
consideration.
On my return it was too early for the fall branding. I made a trip out
to the new ranch, taking along ample winter supplies, two extra lads,
and the old remuda of sixty horses. The men had located the new cattle
fairly well, the calf crop was abundant, and after spending a week I
returned home. I had previously settled my indebtedness in Comanche
County by remittances from Abilene, and early in the fall I made up an
outfit to go down and gather the remnant of "Lazy L" cattle. Taking
along the entire new remuda, we dropped down in advance of the
branding season, visited among the neighboring ranches, and offered a
dollar a head for solitary animals that had drifted any great distance
from the range of the brand. A camp was established at some corrals on
the original range, extra men were employed with the opening of the
branding season, and after twenty days' constant riding we started
home with a few over nine hundred head, not counting two hundred and
odd calves. Little wonder the trustee threatened to sue me; but then
it was his own proposition.
On arriving at the Edwards ranch, we halted a few days in order to
gather the fruits of my first mavericking. The fall work was nearly
finished, and having previously made arrangements to put my brand
under herd, we received two hundred and fifty more, with seventy-five
thrifty calves, before proceeding on to the new ranch on the Clear
Fork. On arriving there we branded the calves, put the two brands
under herd, corralling them at night and familiarizing them with their
new home, and turning them loose at the end of two weeks. Moving
cattle in the fall was contrary to the best results, but it was an
idle time, and they were all young stuff and easily located. During
the interim of loose-herding this second contingent of stock cattle,
the branding had been finished on the ranch, and I was able to take an
account of my year's work. The "Lazy L" was continued, and from that
brand alone there was an increase of over seventeen hundred calves.
With all the expenses of the trail deducted, the steer cattle alone
had paid for the entire brand, besides adding over five thousand
dollars to my cash capital. Who will gainsay my statement that Texas
was a good country in the year 1871?