A River of Horns by Peter Grant

Author:Peter Grant [Grant, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sedgefield Press
Published: 2019-12-13T22:00:00+00:00

10

July 1875

The scout cantered towards Jess Manning, trail boss of the first of Tyler’s five herds of cattle. “Swimmin’ water ahead, boss,” he reported as he drew up alongside him. “It’s the Salt Fork o’ the Brazos River, an’ she’s runnin’ high.”

Jess cursed. “How wide?”

“I’d say a good quarter-mile, includin’ the shallows. Mebbe a couple hundred yards in the middle where it’s more’n five feet deep, enough to make most o’ the cows swim. Must’ve rained hard upstream not too long ago. River ain’t usually that deep this time o’ year.”

“All right.” He turned to his segundo. “Mark, tell the swing and flank riders to start slowin’ down the herd. Have the point cut out the first group of about three hundred head, and angle them towards the river. I want each group headed upstream of the first, into clean water. Split them up so that each group can drink their fill before having to swim, and before the next group reaches the river.”

“Got it, boss.” Mark wheeled his horse and spurred it back towards the approaching herd.

“How fast is the water moving?” Jess asked the scout.

“Not real fast at the sides, but there’s an eddy in the middle o’ the deep patch. Prob’ly some current there. I ain’t crossed, so I can’t say for sure.”

“All right. Will the wagons make it through the deep channel without floodin’?”

“Reckon so, less’n it gets deeper. I’ll pick out the shallowest path for them.”

“Good. Saves us havin’ to unload them an’ float everything across. Walt Ames had their seams waterproofed. He musta seen this comin’.”

“Yeah. He seems to have thought o’ most things, don’t he?”

“Well, bein’ the boss o’ a transport company, I guess he’s got a lot of experience. Head over the river, and find us a good bedding ground for the herd on the far side. We won’t go further today. It’ll take too long to get across.”

Jess rode back to warn the wagons of what lay ahead. The cook instantly asked, “Can I take the chuckwagon over first, ahead o’ the cattle? I’ll set up an’ start cookin’ supper right away. The supply wagons can follow the herd.”

“All right. Make sure you got everything you need, includin’ firewood, an’ empty the possum belly,” pointing to the cowhide apron spread beneath the rear half of the wagon. “The buffalo an’ cow chips we’ve been gatherin’ for fuel will get all soggy if you don’t.”

“OK, boss. Iffen you’ll ask the hands to collect driftwood on both sides o’ the river, I’ll be glad to have it. Cookin’ over dried droppin’s is all very well, but wood burns hotter an’ longer.”

Jess promised to see to it. He told his segundo to send five or six cowhands to help the chuckwagon and its team get across, then began to organize the splitting of the herd.

The teamster brought the wagon down to the river and halted it: then he and the cowhands removed their boots, belts and outer clothing, tossing them into the wagon box. He then drove it into the shallows, taking it as far out into the stream as he dared.

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