Don Lovell and Jim Flood returned from Lasalle County on the last day of February.They had spent a week along the Upper Nueces, and before returning to the ranch closed a trade on thirty-four hundred five and six year old beeves.According to their report, the cattle along the river had wintered in fine condition, and the grass had already started in the valley.This last purchase concluded the buying for trail purposes, and all absent foremen were notified to be on hand at the ranch on March 10, for the beginning of active operations.Only some ten of us had wintered at headquarters in Medina County, and as about ninety men would be required for the season's work, they would have to be secured elsewhere.All the old foremen expected to use the greater portion of the men who were in their employ the year before, and could summon them on a few days' notice.But Forrest and myself were compelled to hire entirely new outfits, and it was high time we were looking up our help.
One of Flood's regular outfit had married during the winter, and with Forrest's and my promotion, he had only to secure three new men.He had dozens of applications from good cow-hands, and after selecting for himself offered the others to Quince and me.But my brother Bob arrived at the ranch, from our home in Karnes County, two days later, having also a surplus of men at his command.
Although he did not show any enthusiasm over my promotion, he offered to help me get up a good outfit of boys.I had about half a dozen good fellows in view, and on Bob's approval of them, he selected from his overplus six more as first choice and four as second.It would take me a week of constant riding to see all these men, and as Flood and Forrest had made up an outfit for the latter from the former's available list, Quince and I saddled up and rode away to hire outfits.Forrest was well acquainted in Wilson, where Lovell had put up several trail herds, and as it joined my home county, we bore each other company the first day.
A long ride brought us to the Atascosa, where we stayed all night.The next morning we separated, Quince bearing due east for Floresville, while I continued southeast towards my home near Cibollo Ford on the San Antonio River.It had been over a year since I had seen the family, and on reaching the ranch, my father gruffly noticed me, but my mother and sisters received me with open arms.I was a mature man of twenty-eight at the time, mustached, and stood six feet to a plumb-line.The family were cognizant of my checkered past, and although never mentioning it, it seemed as if my misfortunes had elevated me in the estimation of my sisters, while to my mother I had become doubly dear.
During the time spent in that vicinity, I managed to reach home at night as often as possible.Constantly using fresh horses, Icovered a wide circle of country, making one ride down the river into Goliad County of over fifty miles, returning the next day.
Within a week I had made up my outfit, including the horse-wrangler and cook.Some of the men were ten years my senior, while only a few were younger, but I knew that these latter had made the trip before and were as reliable as their elders.The wages promised that year were fifty dollars a month, the men to furnish only their own saddles and blankets, and at that figure I picked two pastoral counties, every man bred to the occupation.The trip promised six months' work with return passage, and I urged every one employed to make his appearance at headquarters, in Medina, on or before the 15th of the month.
There was no railroad communication through Karnes and Goliad counties at that time, and all the boys were assured that their private horses would have good pasturage at the home ranch while they were away, and I advised them all to come on horseback.By this method they would have a fresh horse awaiting them on their return from the North with which to continue their homeward journey.All the men engaged were unmarried, and taken as a whole, I flattered myself on having secured a crack outfit.
I was in a hurry to get back to the ranch.There had been nothing said about the remudas before leaving, and while we had an abundance of horses, no one knew them better than I did.For that reason I wanted to be present when their allotment was made, for I knew that every foreman would try to get the best mounts, and Idid not propose to stand behind the door and take the culls.Many of the horses had not had a saddle on them in eight months, while all of them had run idle during the winter in a large mesquite pasture and were in fine condition with the opening of spring.So bidding my folks farewell, I saddled at noon and took a cross-country course for the ranch, covering the hundred and odd miles in a day and a half.Reaching headquarters late at night, Ifound that active preparations had been going on during my absence.There were new wagons to rig, harness to oil, and a carpenter was then at work building chuck-boxes for each of the six commissaries.A wholesale house in the city had shipped out a stock of staple supplies, almost large enough to start a store.
There were whole coils of new rope of various sizes, from lariats to corral cables, and a sufficient amount of the largest size to make a stack of hobbles as large as a haycock.Four new branding-irons to the wagon, the regulation "Circle Dot,"completed the main essentials.
