we were monarchs of all we surveyed. On arriving at the Washita,
we encountered a number of herds, laboring under the impression
that they were water-bound. Immediate entrance at the ford was
held by a large herd of young cattle in charge of a negro outfit.
Their stock were scattered over several thousand acres, and when
I asked for the boss, a middle-aged darky of herculean figure was
pointed out as in charge. To my inquiry why he was holding the
ford, his answer was that until to-day the river had been
swimming, and now he was waiting for the banks to dry.
Ridiculing his flimsy excuse, I kindly yet firmly asked him
either to cross or vacate the ford by three o'clock that
afternoon. Receiving no definite reply, I returned to our herd,
which was some five miles in the rear. Beyond the river's steep,
slippery banks and cold water, there was nothing to check a herd.

After the noonday halt, the wrangler and myself took our remuda
and went on ahead to the river. Crossing and recrossing our
saddle stock a number of times, we trampled the banks down to a
firm footing. While we were doing this work, the negro foreman
and a number of his men rode up and sullenly watched us. Leaving
our horses on the north bank, Levering and I returned, and
ignoring the presence of the darky spectators, started back to
meet the herd, which was just then looming up in sight. But
before we had ridden any distance, the dusky foreman overtook us
and politely said, "Look-ee here, Cap'n; ain't you-all afraid of
losin' some of your cattle among ours?" Never halting, I replied,
"Not a particle; if we lose any, you eat them, and we'll do the
same if our herd absorbs any of yours. But it strikes me that you
had better have those lazy niggers throw your cattle to one
side," I called back, as he halted his horse. We did not look