CLEAR FORK AND SHENANDOAH
I arrived home in good time for the fall work. The first outfit
relieved at Wichita had instructions to begin, immediately on reaching
the ranch, a general cow-hunt for outside brands. It was possible that
a few head might have escaped from the Clear Fork range and returned
to their old haunts, but these would bear a tally-mark distinguishing
them from any not gathered at the spring delivery. My regular ranch
hands looked after the three purchased brands adjoining our home
range, but an independent outfit had been working the past four months
gathering strays and remnants in localities where I had previously
bought brands. They went as far south as Comanche County and picked
up nearly one hundred "Lazy L's," scoured the country where I had
purchased the two brands in the spring of 1872, and afterward confined
themselves to ranges from which the outside cattle were received that
spring. They had made one delivery on the Clear Fork of seven hundred
head before my return, and were then away on a second cow-hunt.
On my reaching the ranch the first contingent of gathered cattle were
under herd. They were a rag-tag lot, many of them big steers, while
much of the younger stuff was clear of earmark or brand until after
their arrival at the home corrals. The ranch help herded them by day
and penned them at night, but on the arrival of the independent outfit
with another contingent of fifteen hundred the first were freed and
the second put under herd. Counting both bunches, the strays numbered
nearly a thousand head, and cattle bearing no tally-mark fully as
many more, while the remainder were mavericks and would have paid the
expenses of the outfit for the past four months. I now had over thirty
thousand cattle on the Clear Fork, holding them in eleven brands, but
decided thereafter to run all the increase in the original "44." This
rule had gone into effect the fall previous, and I now proposed to run
it on all calves branded. Never before had I felt the necessity of
increasing my holdings in land, but with the number of cattle on hand
it behooved me to possess a larger acreage of the Clear Fork valley.
A surveyor was accordingly sent for, and while the double outfit was
branding the home calf crop, I located on the west end of my range a
strip of land ten miles long by five wide. At the east end of my ranch
another tract was located, five by ten miles, running north and taking
in all that country around the junction of the Clear Fork with the
mother Brazos. This gave me one hundred and fifty sections of land,
lying in the form of an immense Lazy L, and I felt that the expense
was justified in securing an ample range for my stock cattle.
My calf crop that fall ran a few over seven thousand head. They were
good northern Texas calves, and it would cost but a trifle to run them
until they were two-year-olds; and if demand continued in the upper
country, some day a trail herd of steers could easily be made up from
their numbers. I was beginning to feel rather proud of my land and
cattle; the former had cost me but a small outlay, while the latter
were clear velvet, as I had sold thirty-five hundred from their
increase during the past two years. Once the surveying and branding
was over, I returned to the Edwards ranch for the winter. The general
outlook in Texas was for the better; quite a mileage of railroad
had been built within the State during the past year, and new and
prosperous towns had sprung up along their lines. The political
situation had quieted down, and it was generally admitted that a
Reconstruction government could never again rear its head on Texas
soil. The result was that confidence was slowly being restored among
the local people, and the press of the State was making a fight for
recognition, all of which augured for a brighter future. Living on the
frontier and absent the greater portion of the time, I took little
interest in local politics, yet could not help but feel that the
restoration of self-government to the best elements of our people
would in time reflect on the welfare of the State. Since my advent in
Texas I had been witness to the growth of Fort Worth from a straggling
village in the spring of 1866 to quite a pretentious town in the fall
of 1874.
Ever since the partnership was formed I had been aware of and had
fostered the political ambitions of the firm's silent member. He had
been prominently identified with the State of Kansas since it was a
territory, had held positions of trust, and had been a representative
in Congress, and all three of us secretly hoped to see him advanced to
the United States Senate. We had fully discussed the matter on various
occasions, and as the fall elections had gone favorably, the present
was considered the opportune time to strike. The firm mutually
agreed to stand the expense of the canvass, which was estimated on a
reasonable basis, and the campaign opened with a blare of trumpets.
Assuming the rôle of a silent partner, I had reports furnished me
regularly, and it soon developed that our estimate on the probable
expense was too low. We had boldly entered the canvass, our man was
worthy, and I wrote back instructing my partners to spare no expense
in winning the fight. There were a number of candidates in the race
and the legislature was in session, when an urgent letter reached me,
urging my presence at the capital of Kansas. The race was narrowing to
a close, a personal consultation was urged, and I hastened north as
fast as a relay of horses and railroad trains could carry me. On my
arrival at Topeka the fight had almost narrowed to a financial one,
and we questioned if the game were worth the candle. Yet we were
already involved in a considerable outlay, and the consultation
resulted in our determination to win, which we did, but at an expense
of a little over four times the original estimate, which, however,
afterward proved a splendid investment.
I now had hopes that we might enlarge our operations in handling
government contracts. Major Hunter saw possibilities along the same
line, and our silent partner was awakened to the importance of
maintaining friendly relations with the Interior and War departments,
gathering all the details in contracting beef with the government for
its Indian agencies and army posts in the West. Up to date this had
been a lucrative field which only a few Texas drovers had ventured
into, most of the contractors being Northern and Eastern men, and
usually buying the cattle with which to fill the contracts near the
point of delivery. I was impatient to get into this trade, as the
Indian deliveries generally took cows, and the army heavy beef, two
grades of cattle that at present our firm had no certain demand for.
Also the market was gradually moving west from Wichita, and it was
only a question of a few years until the settlements of eastern Kansas
would cut us off from our established trade around The Grove. I
had seen Abilene pass away as a market, Wichita was doomed by the
encroachments of agriculture, and it behooved us to be alert for a new
outlet.
I made up my mind to buy more land scrip. Not that there had been
any perceptible improvement in wild lands, but the general outlook
justified its purchase. My agent at Austin reported scrip to be had
in ordinary quantities at former prices, and suggested that I supply
myself fully, as the new administration was an economical one, and
once the great flood of certificates issued by the last Reconstruction
régime were absorbed, an advance in land scrip was anticipated. I
accordingly bought three hundred sections more, hardly knowing what
to do with it, yet I knew there was an empire of fine grazing country
between my present home and the Pecos River. If ever the Comanches
were brought under subjection there would be ranches and room for all;
and our babies were principally boys.
Major Hunter came down earlier than usual. He reported a clear, cold
winter on the Medicine and no serious drift of cattle, and expressed
the belief that we would come through with a loss not exceeding one
per cent. This was encouraging, as it meant fat cattle next fall, fit
for any market in the country. It was yet too early to make any move
towards putting up herds for the trail, and we took train and went
down the country as far as Austin. There was always a difference in
cattle prices, running from one to two dollars a head, between the
northern and southern parts of the State. Both of us were anxious
to acquaint ourselves with the different grades, and made stops in
several intervening counties, looking at cattle on the range and
pricing them. We spent a week at the capital city and met all the
trail drovers living there, many of whom expected to put up herds for
that year southeast on the Colorado River. "Shanghai" Pierce had
for some time been a prominent figure in the markets of Abilene and
Wichita, driving herds of his own from the extreme coast country. But
our market required a better quality than coasters and Mexican cattle,
and we turned back up the country. Before leaving the capital, Major
Hunter and I had a long talk with my merchant friend over the land
scrip market, and the latter urged its purchase at once, if wanted, as
the issue afloat was being gradually absorbed. Already there had been
a noticeable advance in the price, and my partner gave me no
peace until I bought, at eighteen dollars a section, two hundred
certificates more. Its purchase was making an inroad on my working
capital, but the major frowned on my every protest, and I yielded out
of deference to his superior judgment.
Returning, we stopped in Bell County, where we contracted for fifteen
thousand two and three year old steers. They were good prairie-raised
cattle, and we secured them at a dollar a head less than the prices
prevailing in the first few counties south of Red River. Major Hunter
remained behind, arranging his banking facilities, and I returned home
after my outfits. Before leaving Bell County, I left word that we
could use fifty good men for the trail, but they would have to come
recommended by the ranchmen with whom we were dealing. We expected to
make up five herds, and the cattle were to be ready for delivery to
us between the 15th and 30th of March. I hastened home and out to the
ranch, gathered our saddle stock, outfitted wagons, and engaged all
my old foremen and twenty trusty men, and we started with a remuda
of five hundred horses to begin the operations of the coming summer.
Receiving cattle with me was an old story by this time, and frequently
matters came to a standstill between the sellers and ourselves. We
paid no attention to former customs of the country; all cattle had
to come up full-aged or go into the younger class, while inferior or
knotty stags were turned back as not wanted. Scarcely a day passed but
there was more or less dispute; but we proposed paying for them, and
insisted that all cattle tendered must come up to the specifications
of the contract. We stood firm, and after the first two herds were
received, all trouble on that score passed, and in making up the last
three herds there was actually a surplus of cattle tendered. We used a
road brand that year on all steers purchased, and the herds moved out
from two to three days apart, the last two being made up in Coryell,
the adjoining county north.
George Edwards had charge of the rear herd. There were fourteen days
between the first and the last starts, a fortnight of hard work, and
we frequently received from ten to thirty miles distant from the
branding pens. I rode almost night and day, and Edwards likewise,
while Major Hunter kept all the accounts and settled with the sellers.
As fast as one herd was ready, it moved out under a foreman and
fourteen men, one hundred saddle horses, and a well-stocked
commissary. We did our banking at Belton, the county seat, and after
the last herd started we returned to town and received quite an
ovation from the business men of the village. We had invested a
little over one hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cattle in that
community, and a banquet was even suggested in our honor by some of
the leading citizens. Most of the contracts were made with merchants,
many of whom did not own a hoof of cattle, but depended on their
customers to deliver the steers. The business interests of the town
were anxious to have us return next year. We declined the proposed
dinner, as neither Major Hunter nor myself would have made a
presentable guest. A month or more had passed since I had left the
ranch on the Clear Fork, the only clothes I had were on my back, and
they were torn in a dozen places from running cattle in the brush. My
partner had been living in cow-camps for the past three weeks, and
preferred to be excused from receiving any social attentions. So we
thanked our friends and started for the railroad.
Major Hunter went through to The Grove, while I stopped at Fort Worth.
A buckboard from home was awaiting me, and the next morning I was at
the Edwards ranch. A relay team was harnessed in, and after counting
the babies I started for the Clear Fork. By early evening I was in
consultation with my ranch foreman, as it was my intention to drive an
individual herd if everything justified the venture. I never saw the
range on the Clear Fork look better, and the books showed that we
could easily gather two thousand twos and threes, while the balance of
the herd could be made up of dry and barren cows. All we lacked was
about thirty horses, and my ranch hands were anxious to go up the
trail; but after riding the range one day I decided that it would be
a pity to disturb the pastoral serenity of the valley. It was fairly
dotted with my own cattle; month-old calves were playing in groups,
while my horse frequently shied at new-born ones, lying like fawns
in the tall grass. A round-up at that time meant the separation of
mothers from their offspring and injury to cows approaching maternity,
and I decided that no commercial necessity demanded the sacrifice.
Then again it seemed a short-sighted policy to send half-matured
steers to market, when no man could bring the same animals to a full
development as cheaply as I could. Barring contagious diseases, cattle
are the healthiest creatures that walk the earth, and even on an open
range seldom if ever does one voluntarily forsake its birthplace.
I spent two weeks on the ranch and could have stayed the summer
through, for I love cattle. Our lead herd was due on the Kansas state
line early in May, so remaining at the Edwards ranch until the last
possible hour, I took train and reached Wichita, where my active
partner was awaiting me. He had just returned from the Medicine River,
and reported everything serene. He had made arrangements to have the
men attend all the country round-ups within one hundred miles of our
range. Several herds had already reached Wichita, and the next day I
started south on horseback to meet our cattle at Caldwell on the line,
or at Pond Creek in the Cherokee Outlet. It was going to be difficult
to secure range for herds within fifteen miles of Wichita, and the
opinion seemed general that this would be the last year that town
could hope to hold any portion of the Texas cattle trade. On arriving
at Pond Creek I found that fully half the herds were turning up that
stream, heading for Great Bend, Ellsworth, Ellis, and Nickerson, all
markets within the State of Kansas. The year before nearly one third
the drive had gone to the two first-named points, and now other towns
were offering inducements and bidding for a share of the present
cattle exodus.
Our lead herd arrived without an incident en route. The second one
came in promptly, both passing on and picking their way through the
border settlements to Wichita. I waited until the third one put in an
appearance, leaving orders for it and the two rear ones to camp on
some convenient creek in the Outlet near Caldwell. Arrangements were
made with Captain Stone for supplying the outfits, and I hurried on
to overtake the lead herds, then nearing Wichita. An ample range was
found but twenty miles up the Arkansas River, and the third day all
the Bell County men in the two outfits were sent home by train.
The market was much the same as the year before: one herd of three
thousand two-year-olds was our largest individual sale. Early in
August the last herd was brought from the state line and the through
help reduced to two outfits, one holding cattle at Wichita and the
other bringing in shipments of beeves from the Medicine River range.
The latter were splendid cattle, fatted to a finish for grass animals,
and brought top prices in the different markets to which they were
consigned. Omitting details, I will say it was an active year, as we
bought and sold fully as many more as our drive amounted to, while I
added to my stock of saddle horses an even three hundred head.
An amusing incident occurred with one of my men while holding cattle
that fall at Wichita. The boys were in and out of town frequently,
and one of them returned to camp one evening and informed me that he
wanted to quit work, as he intended to return to Wichita and kill a
man. He was a good hand and I tried to persuade him out of the idea,
but he insisted that it was absolutely necessary to preserve his
honor. I threatened to refuse him a horse, but seeing that menace and
persuasion were useless, I ordered him to pick my holdings of saddle
stock, gave him his wages due, and told him to be sure and shoot
first. He bade us all good-by, and a chum of his went with him. About
an hour before daybreak they returned and awoke me, when the aggrieved
boy said: "Mr. Anthony, I didn't kill him. No, I didn't kill him. He's
a good man. You bet he's a game one. Oh, he's a good man all right."
That morning when I awoke both lads were out on herd, and I had an
early appointment to meet parties in town. Major Hunter gave me the
story immediately on my arrival. The boys had located the offender in
a store, and he anticipated the fact that they were on his trail. As
our men entered the place, the enemy stepped from behind a pile of
clothing with two six-shooters leveled in their faces, and ordered a
clerk to relieve the pair of their pistols, which was promptly done.
Once the particulars were known at camp, it was looked upon as a good
joke on the lad, and whenever he was asked what he thought of Mr.
Blank, his reply invariably was, "He's a good man."
The drive that year to the different markets in Kansas amounted to
about five hundred thousand cattle. One half this number were handled
at Wichita, the surrounding country absorbing them to such an extent
that when it came time to restock our Medicine River range I was
compelled to go to Great Bend to secure the needed cattle. All saddle
horses, both purchased and my own remudas, with wagons, were sent to
our winter camps by the shipping crew, so that the final start for
Texas would be made from the Medicine River. It was the last of
October that the last six trains of beeves were brought in to the
railroad for shipment, the season's work drawing to an end. Meanwhile
I had closed contracts on ten thousand three-year-old steers at
"The Bend," so as fast as the three outfits were relieved of their
consignment of beeves they pulled out up the Arkansas River to receive
the last cattle of the year. It was nearly one hundred miles from
Wichita, and on the arrival of the shipping crews the herds were
received and started south for their winter range. Major Hunter and
I accompanied the herds to the Medicine, and within a week after
reaching the range the two through outfits started home with five
wagons and eight hundred saddle horses.
It was the latter part of November when we left our winter camps and
returned to The Grove for the annual settlement. Our silent partner
was present, and we broke the necks of a number of champagne bottles
in properly celebrating the success of the year's work. The wintered
cattle had cleared the Dutchman's one per cent, while every hoof in
the through and purchased herds was a fine source of profit. Congress
would convene within a week, and our silent partner suggested that all
three of us go down to Washington and attend the opening exercises. He
had already looked into the contracting of beef to the government, and
was particularly anxious to have my opinion on a number of contracts
to be let the coming winter. It had been ten years since I left my old
home in the Shenandoah Valley, my parents were still living, and all
I asked was time enough to write a letter to my wife, and buy some
decent clothing. The trio started in good time for the opening of
Congress, but once we sighted the Potomac River the old home hunger
came on me and I left the train at Harper's Ferry. My mother knew and
greeted me just as if I had left home that morning on an errand, and
had now returned. My father was breaking with years, yet had a
mental alertness that was remarkable and a commercial instinct that
understood the value of a Texas cow or a section of land scrip. The
younger members of the family gathered from their homes to meet
"Texas" Anthony, and for ten continuous days I did nothing but answer
questions, running from the color of the baby's eyes to why we did not
drive the fifteen thousand cattle in one herd, or how big a section of
country would one thousand certificates of land scrip cover. My visit
was broken by the necessity of conferring with my partners, so,
promising to spend Christmas with my mother, I was excused until that
date.
At the War and Interior departments I made many friends. I understood
cattle so thoroughly that there was no feature of a delivery to the
government that embarrassed me in the least. A list of contracts to be
let from each department was courteously furnished us, but not wishing
to scatter our business too wide, we submitted bids for six Indian
contracts and four for delivery to army posts on the upper Missouri
River. Two of the latter were to be northern wintered cattle, and we
had them on the Medicine River; but we also had a sure market on them,
and it was a matter of indifference whether we secured them or not.
The Indian contracts called for cows, and I was anxious to secure as
many as possible, as it meant a market for the aging she stuff on
my ranch. Heretofore this class had fulfilled their mission in
perpetuating their kind, had lived their day, and the weeds grew
rankly where their remains enriched the soil. The bids would not be
opened until the middle of January, and we should have notice at once
if fortunate in securing any of the awards. The holiday season was
approaching, Major Hunter was expected at home, and the firm separated
for the time being.