g. Everything on the
south side of the Nueces between the river and the wagon was thrown
together on the second round-up of the day, which yielded less than two
hundred cattle for our beef herd. But when we went into camp, dividing
into squads for night-herding, the day's work was satisfactory to the
ranchero. Dan Happersett was given five vaqueros and stood the first
watch or until one A.M. Glenn Gallup and myself took the remainder of
the men and stood guard until morning. When Happersett called our guard
an hour after midnight, he said to Gallup and me as we were pulling on
our boots: "About a dozen big steers haven't laid down. There's only
one of them that has given any trouble. He's a pinto that we cut in the
first round-up in the morning. He has made two breaks already to get
away, and if you don't watch him close, he'll surely give you the slip."

While riding to the relief, Glenn and I posted our vaqueros to be on the
lookout for the pinto beef. The cattle were intentionally bedded loose;
but even in the starlight and waning moon, every man easily spotted
the _ladino_ beef, uneasily stalking back and forth like a caged tiger
across the bed ground. A half hour before dawn, he made a final effort
to escape, charging out between Gallup and the vaquero following up
on the same side. From the other side of the bed ground, I heard the
commotion, but dare not leave the herd to assist. There was a mile of
open country surrounding our camp, and if two men could not turn the
beef on that space, it was useless for others to offer assistance. In
the stillness of the morning hour, we could hear the running and see
the flashes from six-shooters, marking the course of the outlaw. After
making a half circle, we heard them coming direct for the herd. For fear
of a stampede, we raised a great commotion around the sleeping cattle;
but in spite of our precaution, as the _ladino_ beef reentered the herd,
over half the beeves jumped to their feet and began milling. But we held
them until dawn, and after scattering them over several hundred acres,
left them grazing contentedly, when, leaving two vaqueros with the
feeding herd, we went back to the wagon. The camp had been astir some
time, and when Glenn reported the incident of our watch, Uncle Lance
said: "I thought I heard some shooting while I was cat-napping at
daylight. Well, we can use a little fresh beef in this very camp. We'll
kill him at noon. The wagon will move down near th