But the main interest centred in the cattle, thousands
of which were always in sight, lingering along the watercourses or
grazing at random.
We reached the Edwards ranch early the second evening. In the two
days' travel, possibly twenty thousand cattle came under our immediate
observation. All the country was an open range, brands intermingling,
all ages and conditions, running from a sullen bull to seven-year-old
beeves, or from a yearling heifer to the grandmother of younger
generations. My anxiety to show the country and its cattle met a
hearty second in Mr. Hunter, and abandoning the buckboard, we took
horses and rode up the Brazos River as far as old Fort Belknap. All
cattle were wintering strong. Turning south, we struck the Clear Fork
above my range and spent a night at the ranch, where my men had built
a second cabin, connecting the two by a hallway. After riding through
my stock for two days, we turned back for the Brazos. My ranch hands
had branded thirty-one hundred calves the fall before, and while
riding over the range I was delighted to see so many young steers in
my different brands. But our jaunt had only whetted the appetite of
my guest to see more of the country, and without any waste of time we
started south with the buckboard, going as far as Comanche County.
Every day's travel brought us in contact with cattle for sale; the
prices were an incentive, but we turned east and came back up the
valley of the Brazos.
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