bold; otherwise he used discretion.

CHAPTER IV

A FATAL TRIP

Before leaving Fort Sumner an agreement had been entered into between
my employers and the contractors for a third herd. The delivery was
set for the first week in September, and twenty-five hundred beeves
were agreed upon, with a liberal leeway above and below that number
in case of accident en route. Accordingly, on our return to Loving's
ranch active preparations were begun for the next drive. Extra horses
were purchased, several new guns of the most modern make were
secured, and the gathering of cattle in Loving's brand began at once,
continuing for six weeks. We combed the hills and valleys along the
main Brazos, and then started west up the Clear Fork, carrying the
beeves with us while gathering. The range was in prime condition, the
cattle were fat and indolent, and with the exception of Indian rumors
there was not a cloud in the sky.

Our last camp was made a few miles above Fort Griffin. Military
protection was not expected, yet our proximity to that post was
considered a security from Indian interference, as at times not over
half the outfit were with the herd. We had nearly completed our
numbers when, one morning early in July, the redskins struck our camp
with the violence of a cyclone. The attack occurred, as usual, about
half an hour before dawn, and, to add to the difficulty of the
situation, the cattle stampeded with the first shot fired. I was on
last guard at the time, and conscious that it was an Indian attack I
unslung a new Sharp's rifle and tore away in the lead of the herd.
With the rumbling of over two thousand running cattle in my ears,
hearing was out of the question, while my sense of sight was rendered
useless by the darkness of the morning hour. Yet I had some very
distinct visions; not from the herd of frenzied beeves, thundering at
my heels, but every shade and shadow in the darkness looked like a
pursuing Comanche. Once I leveled my rifle at a shadow, but hesitated,
when a flash from a six-shooter revealed the object to be one of our
own men. I knew there were four of us with the herd when it stampeded,
but if the rest were as badly bewildered as I was, it was dangerous
even to approach them. But I had a king's horse under me and trusted
my life to him, and he led the run until breaking dawn revealed our
identity to each other.

The presence of two other men with the running herd was then
discovered. We were ful