backward until we reached the herd; then as we turned, one on
each side to support the points, it was evident that a clear
field would await us on reaching the river. Every horseman in the
black outfit was pushing cattle with might and main, to give us a
clean cloth at the crossing.

The herd forded the Washita without incident. I remained on the
south bank while the cattle were crossing, and when they were
about half over some half-dozen of the darkies rode up and
stopped apart, conversing among themselves. When the drag cattle
passed safely out on the farther bank, I turned to the dusky
group, only to find their foreman absent. Making a few inquiries
as to the ownership of their herd, its destination, and other
matters of interest, I asked the group to express my thanks to
their foreman for moving his cattle aside. Our commissary crossed
shortly afterward, and the Washita was in our rear. But that
night, as some of my outfit returned from the river, where they
had been fishing, they reported the negro outfit as having
crossed and encamped several miles in our rear.

"All they needed was a good example," said Dorg Seay. "Under a
white foreman, I'll bet that's a good lot of darkies. They were
just about the right shade--old shiny black. As good cowhands as
ever I saw were nigs, but they need a white man to blow and brag
on them. But it always ruins one to give him any authority."

Without effort we traveled fifteen miles a day. In the absence of
any wet weather to gall their backs, there was not a horse in our
remuda unfit for the saddle. In fact, after reaching the Indian
Territory, they took on flesh and played like lambs. With the