The Log of a Cowboy - A Narrative of the Old Trail Days by Andy Adams
page 105 of 300 (35%)
page 105 of 300 (35%)
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loose quite a wad of money. The sutler called me into his office when
I reached the fort, and when he had produced a black bottle used for cutting the alkali in your drinking water, he said, 'Jack,'--he called me Jack; my full name is John Quincy Forrest,--'Jack, can you make the round trip, and bring in two cars of bottled beer that will be on the track waiting for you, and get back by pay day, the 10th?' "I figured the time in my mind; it was twelve days. "'There's five extra in it for each man for the trip, and I'll make it right with you,' he added, as he noticed my hesitation, though I was only making a mental calculation. "'Why, certainly, Captain,' I said. 'What's that fable about the jack rabbit and the land tarrapin?' He didn't know and I didn't either, so I said to illustrate the point: 'Put your freight on a bull train, and it always goes through on time. A race horse can't beat an ox on a hundred miles and repeat to a freight wagon.' Well, we unloaded before night, and it was pitch dark before we made camp. I explained the situation to the men. We planned to go in empty in five days, which would give us seven to come back loaded. We made every camp on time like clockwork. The fifth morning we were anxious to get a daybreak start, so we could load at night. The night herder had his orders to bring in the oxen the first sign of day, and I called the cook an hour before light. When the oxen were brought in, the men were up and ready to go to yoking. But the nigh wheeler in Joe Jenk's team, a big brindle, muley ox, a regular pet steer, was missing. I saw him myself, Joe saw him, and the night herder swore he came in with the rest. Well, we looked high and low for that Mr. Ox, but he had vanished. While the men were eating their breakfast, I got on my horse and the |
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