"That year we had the better of twenty-nine hundred head, all steer
cattle, threes and up, a likely bunch, better than these we are
shadowing now. You see, my people are not driving this year, which is
the reason that I am making a common hand with Inks. If I was to lay
off a season, or go to the seacoast, I might forget the way. In those
days I always hired my own men. The year that this right-hand trail
was made, I had an outfit of men who would rather fight than eat; in
fact, I selected them on account of their special fitness in the use
of firearms. Why, Inks here couldn't have cooked for my outfit
that season, let alone rode. There was no particular incident worth
mentioning till we struck Red River, where we overtook five or six
herds that were laying over on account of a freshet in the river. I
wouldn't have a man those days who was not as good in the water as
out. When I rode up to the river, one or two of my men were with me.
It looked red and muddy and rolled just a trifle, but I ordered one
of the boys to hit it on his horse, to see what it was like. Well, he
never wet the seat of his saddle going or coming, though his horse was
in swimming water good sixty yards. All the other bosses rode up, and
each one examined his peg to see if the rise was falling. One fellow
named Bob Brown, boss-man for John Blocker, asked me what I thought
about the crossing. I said to him, 'If this ferryman can cross our
wagon for me, and you fellows will open out a little and let me in,
I'll show you all a crossing, and it'll be no miracle either.'

"Well, the ferryman said he'd set the wagon over, so the men went back
to bring up the herd. They were delayed some little time, changing to
their swimming horses. It was nearly an hour before the herd came up,
the others opening out, so as to give us a clear field, in case of a
mill or balk. I never had to give an order; my boys knew just what