Editorial note: Randy Adams, the author of this book, wrote from first-hand experience. As a young man he spent 8 years traildriving cattle from Texas to markets in the 1880's and 1890's. Project Gutenberg's library contains several of his other books. REED ANTHONY, COWMAN An Autobiography BY ANDY ADAMS 1907 [Illustration: THE COWMAN] TO CAPTAIN JOHN T. LYTLE SECRETARY OF THE TEXAS CATTLE RAISERS' ASSOCIATION FORT WORTH, TEXAS CONTENTS I. IN RETROSPECT II. MY APPRENTICESHIP III. A SECOND TRIP TO PORT SUMNER IV. A FATAL TRIP V. SUMMER OF '68 VI. SOWING WILD OATS VII. "THE ANGEL" VIII. THE "LAZY L" IX. THE SCHOOL OF EXPERIENCE X. THE PANIC OF '73 XI. A PROSPEROUS YEAR XII. CLEAR FORK AND SHENANDOAH XIII. THE CENTENNIAL YEAR XIV. ESTABLISHING A NEW RANCH XV. HARVEST HOME XVI. AN ACTIVE SUMMER XVII. FORESHADOWS XVIII. THE BEGINNING OF THE BOOM XIX. THE CHEYENNE AND ARAPAHOE CATTLE COMPANY XX. HOLDING THE FORT XXI. THE FRUITS OF CONSPIRACY XXII. IN CONCLUSION CHAPTER I IN RETROSPECT I can truthfully say that my entire life has been spent with cattle. Even during my four years' service in the Confederate army, the greater portion was spent with the commissary department, in charge of its beef supplies. I was wounded early in the second year of the war and disabled as a soldier, but rather than remain at home I accepted a menial position under a quartermaster. Those were strenuous times. During Lee's invasion of Pennsylvania we followed in the wake of the army with over a thousand cattle, and after Gettysburg we led the retreat with double that number. Near the close of the war we frequently had no cattle to hold, and I became little more than a camp-follower. I was born in the Shenandoah Valley, northern Virginia, May 3, 1840. My father was a thrifty planter and stockman, owned a few slaves, and as early as I can remember fed cattle every winter for the eastern markets. Grandfather Anthony, who died before I was born, was a Scotchman who had emigrated to the Old Dominion at an early day, and acquired several large tracts of land on an affluent of the Shenandoah. On my paternal side I never knew any of my ancestors, but have good cause to believe they were adventurers. My mother's maiden name was Reed; she was of a gentle family, who were able to trace their forbears beyond the colonial days, even to the gentry of England. Generations of good birth were reflected in my mother; and across a rough and eventful life I can distinctly remember the refinement of her manners, her courtesy to guests, her kindness to child and slave.