"Well, I'm glad I met you, gentlemen," said the cowman at parting, "but this is purely a business proposition, and you and I look at it from different viewpoints.At the rate you offer, it will cost me one dollar and seventy-five cents to lay a steer down on Red River.Hold on; mine are all large beeves; and I must mount my men just the same as if they trailed all the way.Saddle horses were worth nothing in the North last year, and I kept mine and bought enough others around Dodge to make up a thousand head, and sent them back over the trail to my ranch.Now, it will take six carloads of horses for each herd, and I propose to charge the freight on them against the cattle.I may have to winter my remudas in the North, or drive them home again, and if I put two dollars a head freight in them, they won't bring a cent more on that account.With the cattle it's different; they are all under contract, but the horses must be charged as general expense, and if nothing is realized out of them, the herd must pay the fiddler.My largest delivery is a sub-contract for Fort Buford, calling for five million pounds of beef on foot.It will take three herds or ten thousand cattle to fill it.I was anxious to give those Buford beeves an early start, and that was the main reason in my consenting to this conference.I have three other earlier deliveries at Indian agencies, but they are not as far north by several hundred miles, and it's immaterial whether we ship or not.But the Buford contract sets the day of delivery for September 15, and it's going to take close figuring to make a cent.The main contractors are all right, but I'm the one that's got to scratch his head and figure close and see that there's no leakages.Your freight bill alone would be a nice profit.It may cost us a little for water getting out of Texas, but with the present outlet for cattle, it's bad policy to harass the herds.
Water is about the best crop some of those settlers along the trail, have to sell, and they ought to treat us right."After the conference was over, we scattered about the city, on various errands, expecting to take the night train home.It was then the middle of February, and five of the six herds were already purchased.In spite of the large numbers of cattle which the trail had absorbed in previous years, there was still an abundance of all ages, anxious for a market.The demand in the North had constantly been for young cattle, leaving the matured steers at home.Had Mr.Lovell's contracts that year called for forty thousand five and six year old beeves, instead of twenty, there would have been the same inexhaustible supply from which to pick and choose.But with only one herd yet to secure, and ample offerings on every hand, there was no necessity for a hurry.Many of the herds driven the year before found no sale, and were compelled to winter in the North at the drover's risk.In the early spring of '84, there was a decided lull over the enthusiasm of the two previous years, during the former of which the trail afforded an outlet for nearly seven hundred thousand Texas cattle.
In regard to horses we were well outfitted.During the summer of '83, Don Lovell had driven four herds, two on Indian contract and two of younger cattle on speculation.Of the latter, one was sold in Dodge for delivery on the Purgatory River in southern Colorado, while the other went to Ogalalla, and was disposed of and received at that point.In both cases there was no chance to sell the saddle horses, and they returned to Dodge and were sent to pasture down the river in the settlements.My brother, Bob Quirk, had driven one of the other herds to an agency in the Indian Territory.After making the delivery, early in August, on his employer's orders, he had brought his remuda and outfit into Dodge, the horses being also sent to pasture and the men home to Texas.I had made the trip that year to the Pine Ridge Agency in Dakota with thirty-five hundred beeves, under Flood as foreman.
Don Lovell was present at the delivery, and as there was no hope of effecting a sale of the saddle stock among the Indians, after delivering the outfit at the nearest railroad, I was given two men and the cook, and started back over the trail for Dodge with the remuda.The wagon was a drawback, but on reaching Ogalalla, an emigrant outfit offered me a fair price for the mules and commissary, and I sold them.Lashing our rations and blankets on two pack-horses, we turned our backs on the Platte and crossed the Arkansaw at Dodge on the seventh day.
But instead of the remainder of the trip home by rail, as we fondly expected, the programme had changed.Lovell and Flood had arrived in Dodge some ten days before, and looking over the situation, had come to the conclusion it was useless even to offer our remudas.As remnants of that year's drive, there had concentrated in and around that market something like ten thousand saddle horses.Many of these were from central and north Texas, larger and better stock than ours, even though care had been used in selecting the latter.So on their arrival, instead of making any effort to dispose of our own, the drover and his foreman had sized up the congested condition of the market, and turned buyers.They had bought two whole remudas, and picked over five or six others until their purchases amounted to over five hundred head.Consequently on our reaching Dodge with the Pine Ridge horses, I was informed that they were going to send all the saddle stock back over the trail to the ranch and that I was to have charge of the herd.Had the trip been in the spring and the other way, I certainly would have felt elated over my promotion.
Our beef herd that year had been put up in Dimmit County, and from there to the Pine Ridge Agency and back to the ranch would certainly be a summer's work to gratify an ordinary ambition.
