The cattle were under contract in Wyoming,
and it was my intention not even to halt the herds, but merely to take
on supplies in passing. But a deputation met us south of the river,
notifying me that the quarantine convention was in session, and
requesting me not to attempt to cross the Arkansas. I explained that
my cattle were from above the dead line in Texas, had heretofore gone
unmolested wherever they wished, and that it was out of my way to turn
west and go up through Colorado. The committee was reasonable, looked
over the lead herd, and saw that I was driving graded cattle, and
finally invited me in to state my case before the convention. I
accompanied the men sent to warn me away, and after considerable
parley I was permitted to address the assembly. In a few brief words
I stated my destination, where I was from, and the quality of cattle
making up my herds, and invited any doubters to accompany me across
the river and look the stock over. Fortunately a number of the
cattlemen in the convention knew me, and I was excused while the
assembly went into executive session to consider my case. Prohibition
was in effect at Lakin, and I was compelled to resort to diplomacy in
order to cross the Arkansas River with my cattle. It was warm, sultry
weather in the valley, and my first idea was to secure a barrel of
bottled beer and send it over to the convention, but the town was dry.
Pages:
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354