Instead of
a few weeks, over a month was spent on the corral, but when it was
finished it would hold a thousand stampeding cattle through the
stormiest night that ever blew.
After finishing the corral we hunted a week. The country was alive
with game of all kinds, even an occasional buffalo, while wild and
unbranded cattle were seen daily. None of the men seemed anxious to
leave the valley, but the commissary had to be replenished, so two of
us made the trip to Belknap with a pack horse, returning the next day
with meal, sugar, and coffee. A cabin was begun and completed in ten
days, a crude but stable affair, with clapboard roof, clay floor,
and ample fireplace. It was now late in September, and as the usual
branding season was at hand, cow-hunting outfits might be expected to
pass down the valley. The advantage of corrals would naturally make my
place headquarters for cowmen, and we accordingly settled down until
the branding season was over. But the abundance of mavericks and wild
cattle was so tempting that we had three hundred under herd when the
first cow-hunting outfits arrived. At one lake on what is now known
as South Prairie, in a single moonlight night, we roped and tied down
forty head, the next morning finding thirty of them unbranded and
therefore unowned. All tame cattle would naturally water in the
daytime, and anything coming in at night fell a victim to our ropes.
Pages:
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99