An early start was the order of the day. My beeves were pushed from the
bed-ground with the first sign of dawn, and when the relief overtook
them, they were several miles back from the river and holding a
northwest course. My camp being the lowest one on the North Fork,
Forrest and Sponsilier, also starting at daybreak, naturally took the
lead, the latter having fully a five-mile start over my outfit. But as
we left the valley and came up on the mesa, there on an angle in our
front, Flood’s herd snailed along like an army brigade, anxious to
dispute our advance. The point-men veered our cattle slightly to the
left, and as the drag-end of Flood’s beeves passed before us, standing
in our stirrups we waved our hats in farewell to the lads, starting on
their last tack for the Rosebud Agency. Across the river were the dim
outlines of two herds trailing upstream, being distinguishable from
numerous others by the dust-clouds which marked the moving from the
grazing cattle. The course of the North Platte was southwest, and on
the direction which we were holding, we would strike the river again
during the afternoon at a bend some ten or twelve miles above.
Near the middle of the forenoon we were met by Hugh Morris. He was
discouraged, as it was well known now that his cattle would be tendered
in competition with ours at Fort Buford. There was no comparison
between the beeves, ours being much larger, more uniform in weight, and
in better flesh. He looked over both Forrest’s and Sponsilier’s herds
before meeting us, and was good enough judge of cattle to know that his
stood no chance against ours, if they were to be received on their
merits. We talked matters over for fully an hour, and I advised him
never to leave Keith County until the last dollar in payment for his
beeves was in hand. Morris thought this was quite possible, as
information had reached him that the buyers had recently purchased a
remuda, and now, since they had failed to take possession of two of
Lovell’s herds, it remained to be seen what the next move would be. He
thought it quite likely, though, that a settlement could be effected
whereby he would be relieved at Ogalalla. Mutually hoping that all
would turn out well, we parted until our paths should cross again.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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