In the mean time and before our arrival, Flood had brought up all the stock and wagons from the settlement, and established a camp on Mulberry Creek, south of Dodge on the trail.He had picked up two Texans who were anxious to see their homes once more, and the next day at noon we started.The herd numbered a thousand and sixty head, twenty of which were work-mules.The commissary which was to accompany us was laden principally with harness; and waving Flood farewell, we turned homeward, leaving behind unsold of that year's drive only two wagons.Lovell had instructed us never to ride the same horse twice, and wherever good grass and water were encountered, to kill as much time as possible.My employer was enthusiastic over the idea, and well he might be, for a finer lot of saddle horses were not in the possession of any trail drover, while those purchased in Dodge could have been resold in San Antonio at a nice profit.Many of the horses had run idle several months and were in fine condition.With the allowance of four men and a cook, a draft-book for personal expenses, and over a thousand horses from which to choose a mount, I felt like an embryo foreman, even if it was a back track and the drag end of the season.Turning everything scot free at night, we reached the ranch in old Medina in six weeks, actually traveling about forty days.
But now, with the opening of the trail season almost at hand, the trials of past years were forgotten in the enthusiasm of the present.I had a distinct recollection of numerous resolves made on rainy nights, while holding a drifting herd, that this was positively my last trip over the trail.Now, however, after a winter of idleness, my worst fear was that I might be left at home with the ranch work, and thus miss the season's outing entirely.There were new charms in the Buford contract which thrilled me,--its numerical requirements, the sight of the Yellowstone again, and more, to be present at the largest delivery of the year to the government.Rather than have missed the trip, I would have gladly cooked or wrangled the horses for one of the outfits.
On separating, Lovell urged his foreman and myself to be at the depot in good time to catch our train.That our employer's contracts for the year would require financial assistance, both of us were fully aware.The credit of Don Lovell was gilt edge, not that he was a wealthy cowman, but the banks and moneyed men of the city recognized his business ability.Nearly every year since he began driving cattle, assistance had been extended him, but the promptness with which he had always met his obligations made his patronage desirable.
Flood and I had a number of errands to look after for the boys on the ranch and ourselves, and, like countrymen, reached the depot fully an hour before the train was due.Not possessed of enough gumption to inquire if the westbound was on time, we loitered around until some other passengers informed us that it was late.
Just as we were on the point of starting back to town, Lovell drove up in a hack, and the three of us paced the platform until the arrival of the belated train.
