was
no railroad at the time, and as that was our market for fat cattle,
it was necessary to drive the entire way. My father had made the trip
yearly since I could remember, the distance being nearly two hundred
miles, and generally carrying as many as one hundred and fifty big
beeves. They traveled slowly, pasturing or feeding grain on the way,
in order that the cattle should arrive at the market in salable
condition. One horse was allowed with the herd, and on another my
father rode, far in advance, to engage pasture or feed and shelter for
his men. When on the road a boy always led a gentle ox in the lead of
the beeves; negro men walked on either flank, and the horseman brought
up the rear. I used to envy the boy leading the ox, even though he was
a darky. The negro boys on our plantation always pleaded with "Mars"
John, my father, for the privilege; and when one of them had made the
trip to Baltimore as a toll boy he easily outranked us younger whites.
I must have made application for the position when I was about seven
years old, for it seemed an age before my request was granted. My
brother, only two years older than I, had made the trip twice, and
when I was twelve the great opportunity came. My father had nearly two
hundred cattle to go to market that year, and the start was made one
morning early in June. I can distinctly see my mother standing on the
veranda of our home as I led the herd by with a big red ox, trembling
with fear that at the final moment her permission might be withdrawn
and that I should have to remain behind. But she never interfered with
my father, who took great pains to teach his boys everything practical
in the cattle business.

It took us twenty days to reach Baltimore. We always started early in
the morning, allowing the beeves to graze and rest along the road, and
securing good pastures for them at night. Several times it rained,
making the road soft, but I stripped off my shoes and took it
barefooted through the mud. The lead ox was a fine, big fellow, each
horn tipped with a brass knob, and he and I set the pace, which was
scarcely that of a snail. The days were long, I grew desperately
hungry between meals, and the novelty of leading that ox soon lost its
romance. But I was determined not to show that I was tired or hungry,
and frequently, when my father was with us and offered to take me up
behind him on his horse, I spurned his offer and trudged on till
the end of the day. The mer