Possibly! but wasn't I going up the trail with Jim Flood, the boss
foreman of Don Lovell, the cowman and drover?

Our little ranch was near Cibollo Ford on the river, and as the outfit
passed down the country, they crossed at that ford and picked me up.
Flood was not with them, which was a disappointment to me, "Quince"
Forrest acting as _segundo_ at the time. They had four mules to the
"chuck" wagon under Barney McCann as cook, while the _remuda_, under
Billy Honeyman as horse wrangler, numbered a hundred and forty-two,
ten horses to the man, with two extra for the foreman. Then, for the
first time, I learned that we were going down to the mouth of the Rio
Grande to receive the herd from across the river in Old Mexico; and
that they were contracted for delivery on the Blackfoot Indian
Reservation in the northwest corner of Montana. Lovell had several
contracts with the Indian Department of the government that year, and
had been granted the privilege of bringing in, free of duty, any
cattle to be used in filling Indian contracts.

My worst trouble was getting away from home on the morning of
starting. Mother and my sisters, of course, shed a few tears; but my
father, stern and unbending in his manner, gave me his benediction in
these words: "Thomas Moore, you're the third son to leave our roof,
but your father's blessing goes with you. I left my own home beyond
the sea before I was your age." And as they all stood at the gate, I
climbed into my saddle and rode away, with a lump in my throat which
left me speechless to reply.



CHAPTER II