As afternoon came on they abandoned their futile search for unguarded
drink and clung closer to the wire barrier, snuffing loudly as their
nostrils drank in the smell of water as greedily as their throats would
have swallowed the fluid itself. Their eyes became wider, wilder, and
the bawling was without cessation. Flanks pumped the hot air into their
bodies in rapid tempo and slaver hung from loose chops. The herd was in
desperate condition.
Now and then a big beefer would rush the fence as if to tear his way
through but the new wire and solid posts always flung them back. Again,
another would push his head tentatively between the strands and attempt
entrance by gentler methods, but always they were driven back either by
one of the HC riders or by Cole himself.
By the time the sun was half way to the horizon the steers were moving
in a compact mass back and forth along the fence, snuffing, crying,
sobbing in dry throats, bodies growing more gaunt hourly as frenzy
added its toll to physical suffering.
The bawling became a din. Big steers shook their heads and hooked at
one another groggily. The first one went down and could not rise alone;
the men "tailed" him up and worked him to shade, where he sank to his
side again, panting, drooling and silent.
"Damn an outfit like that!" growled Curtis, looking across the bunch to
Cole, who stood staring back.
"There's goin' to be hell a-poppin' here," commented one of the men.
"They're waitin' for trouble an' you can't prevent 'em havin' it--"
"Look at that!"
A half dozen steers, surging against the fence, put their combined
weight on a panel and the post gave with a snap.
Bobby ran forward, brandishing a club, and drove them back as they
floundered in the sagging wire, heedless of barbs, eyes protruding with
want of the drink that dilated nostrils told them was near.
After he had propped the post up again the nester shook his fist at
Curtis and shouted:
"I'll protect my property! You can protect yourn if you will. Th' next
critter that breaks my fence gits lead in his carcass!"
He slouched back to the cabin and came out a moment later with a rifle.
Seating himself on a stump he crossed his knees and with the weapon
across his lap sat waiting.
"We'll bunch 'em so we can make a show at holdin' 'em tonight," Curtis
said. "That'll save time in th' mornin' ... an' we'll need all our
time."
Forthwith he and the others began gathering the suffering stragglers in
a loose bunch.
The Reverend came riding across the flat before this was completed. His
face was serious and as he came close to the herd and saw the condition
of the cattle he shook his head apprehensively.
"I fear, brother, that by another day there'll be little strength in
those bodies to get 'em up to open water," he said to Curtis.
"It'll be the devil's own job for sure! It'll take twenty men to move
'em and if we don't lose half we'll be lucky.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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