I was partial
to heifers, and when one was sighted there was no brush so thick or
animal so wild that it was not "fish" to my rope. In many instances a
cow of unknown brand was still followed by her two-year-old, yearling,
and present calf. Under the customs of the country, any unbranded
animal, one year old or over, was a maverick, and the property of any
one who cared to brand the unclaimed stray. Thousands of cattle thus
lived to old age, multiplied and increased, died and became food for
worms, unowned.
The branding over, I soon grew impatient to be doing something. There
would be no movement in cattle before the following spring, and a
winter of idleness was not to my liking. Buffalo hunting had lost its
charm with me, the contentious savages were jealous of any intrusion
on their old hunting grounds, and, having met them on numerous
occasions during the past eighteen months, I had no further desire to
cultivate their acquaintance. I still owned my horse, now acclimated,
and had money in my purse, and one morning I announced my intention
of visiting my other comrades in Texas. Protests were made against
my going, and as an incentive to have me remain, the elder Edwards
offered to outfit George and me the following spring with a herd of
cattle and start us to Kansas. I was anxious for employment, but
assuring my host that he could count on my services, I still
pleaded my anxiety to see other portions of the State and renew old
acquaintances.
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