The cattle herder’s main function was to keep the herds from mixing, and to keep the cattle clear of the creek-bottom farms and the few isolated prairie farms; and also to keep them out of mischief in general, such as running down careless boys—and free of dogs. A dog could always start a stampede. And a cattle stampede was something to be dreaded, in the old days. When those Texas cattle and dogs mixed there was sure to be loud bellowings and a great clashing of hoofs and horns. I have a clear picture of my Uncle Nick’s herd of longhorns, after running themselves down, milling about on the range adjacent to his Wolfley creek farm—milling in a compact bunch, when one could look out upon a sea of horns; nothing but horns. It was quite the thing for local men who had a little cash, or backing, to take a hand in the cattle game. My Uncle Nick Bristow and Roland Van Amburg contracted for a large herd of those longhorns from Dr. W. L. Challis, cattle broker of Atchison. The cattle were fresh from Texas—brought up over the famed Chisholm trail. Uncle Nick and Van divided the herd, and after running the cattle on grass, tried to carry them through a rather severe winter on prairie hay alone. Those fresh longhorns would not eat corn. The cattle were so weakened by spring that when turned out on grass they mired down in creeks and water holes all over the range. They died in bunches, almost to the last head. And while that cattle deal cost my Uncle his farm, Van said it cost him only his “britches.” Roland Van Amburg was a grand old sport, with a great capacity for seeing the “funny” side of life—and up or down, financially, he was always the same cheery Van. Other men got out of their Texas cattle speculations less lucky. Dave Garvin, besides losing a lot of his hard-earned money, had to take the “rest cure” for nearly a year. However, those who confined their speculations, within their means, to native-bred cattle made money. John Thornburrow, starting from scratch, amassed a small fortune. Charley Hutchison, a mere boy, scion of a wealthy’ brewer family, sent out here from Ohio to sober up, and put on a section of wild land, made a pile of money from his herds — and more, he became a teetotaler, a solid, honorable citizen. Fred Achten, a fifteen dollar a month farm hand, built the foundation for the Achten Empire, the largest land holdings in the country, largely on cattle and free grass.