during the morning, and warned us to be prepared for fifty or sixty
yards of swimming water in crossing. When within a mile, we held up
the herd and changed horses, every man picking out one with a tested
ability to swim. Those of us who were expected to take the water as
the herd entered the river divested ourselves of boots and clothing,
which we intrusted to riders in the rear. The approach to crossing was
gradual, but the opposite bank was abrupt, with only a narrow
passageway leading out from the channel. As the current was certain to
carry the swimming cattle downstream, we must, to make due allowance,
take the water nearly a hundred yards above the outlet on the other
shore. All this was planned out in advance by our foreman, who now
took the position of point man on the right hand or down the
riverside; and with our saddle horses in the immediate lead, we
breasted the angry Brazos.

The water was shallow as we entered, and we reached nearly the middle
of the river before the loose saddle horses struck swimming water.
Honeyman was on their lee, and with the cattle crowding in their rear,
there was no alternative but to swim. A loose horse swims easily,
however, and our _remuda_ readily faced the current, though it was
swift enough to carry them below the passageway on the opposite side.
By this time the lead cattle were adrift, and half a dozen of us were
on their lower side, for the footing under the cutbank was narrow, and
should the cattle become congested on landing, some were likely to
drown. For a quarter of an hour it required cool heads to keep the
trail of cattle moving into the water and the passageway clear on the
opposite landing. While they were crossing, the herd represented a
large letter "U," caused by the force of the current drifting the
cattle downstream, or until a foothold was secured on the farther
side. Those of us fortunate enough to have good swimming horses swam