It was restored to the stock,
where it can yet be found.
Early in August the herd was completed. I accepted seven hundred and
twenty steers, investing every cent of spare money, reserving only
sufficient to pay my expenses en route. It was my intention to drive
the cattle through to Missouri, the distance being a trifle less than
six hundred miles or a matter of six weeks' travel. Four men were
secured, a horse was packed with provisions and blankets, and we
started down the Arkansas River. For the first few days I did very
little but build air castles. I pictured myself driving herds from
Texas in the spring, reinvesting the proceeds in better grades of
cattle and feeding them corn in the older States, selling in time to
again buy and come up the trail. I even planned to send for my wife
and baby, and looked forward to a happy reunion with my parents during
the coming winter, with not a cloud in my roseate sky. But there were
breakers ahead.
An old military trail ran southeast from Fort Larned to other posts in
the Indian Territory. Over this government road had come a number of
herds of Texas cattle, all of them under contract, which, in reaching
their destination, had avoided the markets of Wichita and Ellsworth.
I crossed their trail with my Colorado natives,--the through cattle
having passed a month or more before,--never dreaming of any danger.
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