Sweetwater. Tom Durbin is still alive, one of the few old timers still living in Cheyenne.

While with Stewart, I rode over a large part of the valley and went northwards towards Poison and Badwater creeks. The valley itself was a broad expanse of sagebrush, in many places over an ordinary man's head. Southwards of the ranches I have spoken about, it rose up in swelling foothills to the Ferris Mountains and opposite the Three Crossings to Green Mountain. Its sides were clothed with grass, verdant most of the summer; then came timber, shadowy pines, and on its flat top there were glorious glades of rich meadow lands where elk and deer were plentiful. Everything up there under summer's ripening breath looked rosy. Northwards the stream was guarded by fantastic rocks. This wonderful formation began at the Devils Gap and ran as far as Rongis, about forty miles west. It was one series of cathedral rocks and majestic minarets. Far away towards the setting sun were the Wind River Mountains, whose domes made the Continental Divide. The cattle were ranging mostly on the river and the little creeks that came from the north and south sides. They had a fine class of cattle, mostly bred up from herds that had come from Oregon and Washington' territories, big boned, rather coarse in their make-up, not the type of animal that is popular today. The winter of 1881-82 had been mild and the calf brand was good. While there was no guarantee as to numbers in the contract of sale, there was a letter accompanying it and which the courts held was a part of the contract guaranteeing a calf brand of 4,000 head for the season. It was therefore my business to inquire into this. The first round-up was just about ended, in fact it did disband before we left the ranch, and at least two-thirds of the calves should have been branded, more especially as a good many mavericks, presumably raised by Stewart's cows, had been branded on what by common consent was his range. The word maverick is defined in Wyoming as follows: "A maverick is any head of neat cattle regardless of its age found running at large with

out a mother, and without a brand, regardless of any earmark or wattle that may be upon them." In riding over the range with Mr. Stewart, but more especially with his foreman, Cap Haskell, I was led to believe that the brand would be as estimated and was informed by the former gentleman that 2,800 calves had been branded up to the end of the round-up. When the matter came up in court Mr. Stewart denied that he had ever made such a statement. One thing is sure; he did not disclose that only 1,800 head had been branded and consequently, taking his word, I reported accordingly. The matter was finally settled in the courts and this part of the story will be told in detail at the proper time. So the Wyoming Cattle Ranch Co. came into being. Its history will tell a weird tale in cattle ranching, and will develop more than one tragedy.

A

CHAPTER VII

BOUT the beginning of August, 1882, Mr. Rufus Hatch organized a trip to the Northwest to inspect the Northern Pacific Railroad. He was a large holder of the stock and he was booming it. Uncle Rufus did things in a large way. He had a train to himself, consisting of a baggage car, dining car, a Pullman and a combination Pullman and observation car. We went over the country in royal style, stopping at various points. We had Mr. John Wyman for an orator, and a quartette, two gentlemen and two ladies, who made melody for us. Unfortunately, I had to turn back at Glendive, Mont. The result of this trip was that Mr. Hatch conceived the scheme of leasing the transportation and hotel business of the Yellowstone Park, and incidentally running cattle in that vicinity. Those concessions had to be obtained at Washington, D. C., and to open the campaign thirty gentlemen subscribed a thousand dollars each. When I put my share up I had dreams of untold wealth, but alas, when the subject was even mooted at Washington a mighty roar went up from the Capitol. The whole distance we got was to build a hotel at the Mammoth Hot Springs, which went into a receiver's hands and that is the last I heard of it. Although I have circled the Park many and many a time since then, I have never seen it. Other people got the concession, but that a Wall Street speculator and his friends should handle anything of this kind was anathema. It was my first practical experience in the political game, a game which I have studiously avoided whenever possible. There is a well-known Scotch proverb as follows: "It takes a long spoon to sup porridge with the devil." It applies in this country to our law makers.

During October of the above year while over on business in the old country, a project was promoted by the firm of Gordon, Pringle, Dallas & Co., which was the birth of the