Since our firm began maturing beeves ten years before, the
losses attributable to winter were never noticed, nor did they in the
least affect our profits. On my ranches in Texas the primitive law
of survival of the fittest prevailed, the winter-kill falling sorest
among the weak and aging cows. My personal loss was always heavier
than that of the firm, owing to my holdings being mixed stock, and due
to the fact that an animal in the South never took on tallow enough
to assist materially in resisting a winter. The cattle of the North
always had the flesh to withstand the rigors of the wintry season,
dry, cold, zero weather being preferable to rain, sleet, and the
northers that swept across the plains of Texas. The range of the new
company was intermediate between the extremes of north and south, and
as we handled all steer cattle, no one entertained any fear from the
climate.
I passed a comparatively idle winter at my home on the Clear Fork.
Weekly reports reached me from the new ranch, several of which caused
uneasiness, as our fences were several times cut on the southwest, and
a prairie fire, the work of an incendiary, broke out at midnight on
our range. Happily the wind fell, and by daybreak the smoke arose
in columns, summoning every man on the ranch, and the fire was soon
brought under control. As a precaution to such a possibility we had
burned fire-guards entirely around the range by plowing furrows one
hundred feet apart and burning out the middle.
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