As Jose sat on the bank of the Arroyo Hondo admiring his horse, he leaned against the trunk of a tall, slender tree and began to think about his future. For a long time he had felt that there was something lacking in his life but he had not been able to put his finger on the cause of his unrest. He questioned himself about his status in life, concerning his accomplishments and his ability to support himself and his parents, and came to the conclusion he needed a wife and property of his own—either a farm or a business of some kind. He knew that his parents did not need support from him and that his older brothers actually operated the small rancho and farm—they were all married and therefore would continue to remain on the family estate. According to the custom of the times, the oldest brother would inherit the estate, that is the profits from the operation of it. He, Jose Guiterez, decided he would strike out for himself, perhaps engaging in some kind of business for he did not like rancho or farm work. Being a soldier had too many disadvantages. True, in the end after an enlistment period, a soldier was given a certain amount of land, farm animals and equipment. He could get them from his own family if he needed them. Being a settler on a frontier was just as important as being a soldier, each in his own way was serving the purpose of making the frontier secure. There was a chatter of birds in the tree tops just above his head which broke his train of thought and brought him back to reality. As he looked upward Jose marvelled at the size and the straightness of the trees from which the chatter of the birds had come. Then he noticed how nearly all the trees were of uniform size, straight, and all nearly sixty feet high. Here was definitely cabin material and even in this small grove there were enough such trees to make several cabins. Odd, he thought, he had passed this place many times and did not notice the surroundings as he did this day. As his thoughts raced ahead he remembered that he had stopped to rest, almost always everyone else who passed this way also stopped. Here would be the place to establish some sort of tavern, wine shop or eating place. Why, he wondered, had not someone thought of this before, to erect such a place here on the Arroyo Hondo where people must pass and where they always stop to rest a while. Jose reasoned that the wine shop, tavern and inn, must be available for the French, Spanish and Indian trade, and regardless of what would be traded to him, whether furs or trade goods, sooner or later he could turn them into gold and silver. Now, for obtaining the land. The east side of the Arroyo Hondo, where he intended to establish this new business, belonged to the French. According to an agreement between St. Denis and Governor Almazon in 1724, the dividing line between the French and Spanish would be the Arroyo Hondo instead of the west bank of the Red River as previously claimed by the Spanish.