gambler were old enemies, and as both had six shooters, it was a rather uncomfortable situation. The wind swept with wicked glee across the divides, carrying sifting snow through the canvas covers of the coach. Inside we sat face to face, the gambler, his wife and the baby in the back seat, Clark and I opposite clad in big overcoats and covered with buffalo robes. The coach creaked, jolted, swayed, crawled uphill, made reckless dashes downwards, crossed ice bound streams, performed all kinds of stunts except turning over, halted thrice a day for meals, changed horses frequently and drivers occasionally. Those drivers were in a class by themselves. They were tough physically and morally, masters in the art of controlling a four or six-in-hand, some of them morose, others talkative, but all gifted in the language suited to their business. Most of them could spin fairy tales by the hour and tell you weird stories of frontier life. I meet them sometimes in the West, all of them old men, worn out spending the short days left to them relating that past which can never come again, the passing not so much of the range, for it is still there, so is the railroad, the settler whose land hunger can still be appeased in the West in its arid regions, the automobile, the telephone, the new era that with cruel, casual heartlessness has left those old somewhat quaint relics stranded on the shores of almost forgotten days. D CHAPTER XIII URING the spring of 1883 I met the Dickey Bros.- and it is rather sad duty to tell the story of their rise, decline and fall. "Bill," the senior of the two, was a fair haired, curly headed man, slightly over thirty years of age when it was my fortune to meet him. As I look back he reminds me of Nat Goodwin in his palmy days. He had a large head, a fair sized body and small spindly legs, dressing immaculately. His brother "Val" was a rather cadaverous looking man, some year or two younger than his brother, erratic, volatile, a bit bumptious and vain. "Bill" was the brains of the concern, very keen, calculating, with a great practical knowledge of the West. As cow hands and owners of cattle they had their lesson by heart, for they had spent many years in the school of experience. Not DeFoe himself could tell a more thrilling tale than was the short, rapid changing story of those two boys. They were born in Dayton, Ohio, and about 1872 they had started west, not as I recollect together, the elder having blazed the way, and being followed a year after by the younger. There they had prospered. They had raised up a fine herd on the Republican River, they had freighted hay and goods to Leadville in its balmy days and through a lot of hardship they had gathered together considerable property. They were progressive and at the above date, some eleven years after their advent in the West, they had a herd estimated at 22,000 head in the Indian Territory, and 10,000 head on the Little Missouri in Montana, Wyoming and South Dakota. The latter herd had been moved from the Republican northwards and was a very fine herd, full of Hereford blood. They had left the range and moved to Kansas City and they lived, as I recollect it, in the Centropolis Hotel, having their meals there at any rate. They were considerably in debt, but not seriously considering their holdings. In the winter of 188283, "Bill" had made a trip to Europe and more especially to Scotland, a favorite hunting ground for American cowmen who wished to finance their business on easier terms than at home. In Edinburgh the above gentleman ran across Mr. Robert Pringle, through whose office, as mentioned before, the VVV outfit was floated. The Dickey cattle, branded and ran west off the Clark & Plumb herd. Southwards on the Little Missouri were the Driskills; northwards the "Hash Knife," then running under the name of Hughes and Simpson. They all worked together. The idea was to float the Dickey Cattle Co., and eventually combine the above outfits (Clark & Plumb and the VVV) in one large company. From an old prospectus, which I believe was never issued to the public, I glean the following items: "The Ranches, Cattle (32,000), Horses (550) and 26 mules and complete equipment are offered to the Company by Messrs. Dickey at the price of $1,050,000, of which they are to take £150,000 in shares of the Company, and the balance in cash. It is proposed also that $400,000 should be set aside to be invested in the purchase of further Cattle, securing water rights, and extending the Ranges. "The Vendors guarantee that at least 4,500 Beeves, suitable for the market, will be sold during the current year. The same Beeves averaged last year $43 per head net on the Ranches. If cattle fetch the same price this year, there will be a return of close upon £40,000, from which deduct working expenses, say £10,000, leaves a net return of £30,000 upon a Capital of £200,000 employed during the year. "Next year there ought to be 6,000 Beeves fit for the market, and the number will increase until the Herd reaches from 65,000 to 70,000, when the full produce of each year will be sold, and ought to amount to 12,000 head, of which 7,000 will be Beeves, and the balance fat Cows. This amount, if sold at present prices, would produce a very handsome return. "The Vendors have consented that the Herd of Cattle shall be examined by Mr. John Clay, Junior, a gentleman well known in this country, and that he shall report upon the statements made in this Prospectus, and satisfy himself as to the number of Cattle upon the Ranges. He is entitled to insist upon the Cattle being counted, if he thinks that necessary, but if he recommends that Range delivery should be taken, the Vendors guarantee, in that case, that the number of Calves branded this year shall not be less than 4,400; that the number of Steers marketed this year will amount to 4,500; in 1884 to 6,000, and in 1885 to 7,000." During the summer I made an inspection of both herds. In the Indian Territory 6,000 yearling Texas steers of good quality had just been turned loose. That year there was a wealth of grass all over that country and cattle looked fine. You had to leave the railroad at Dodge City and drive down by Camp Supply through the Cherokee strip country to the Cheyenne and Arapahoe reservation. It was a long, tedious ride whether you made it by buggy or stage. Previous to starting to the ranch we drove north from Dodge about 25 miles and tallied a herd of about 6,000 two-year-old steers that after wintering on the Canadian River were starting for the northern range. A Kansas granger had held them up with a shotgun, and after counting the cattle the irate gentleman had to be bought off. It was my first experience on the trail, but not my last. As I recollect, "Val” Dickey and I on our return to Dodge drove in the ranch buggy. "Bill," who had an amour working at Kansas City, followed a day later. We rode for several days and had a good look at a large number of cattle, but made no attempt to count the range herd, but as there were bills of sale for the yearlings and an absolute count on the two year olds, we accounted for 12,000 head. Later in the season we inspected the northern herd. "Bill" did not accompany us, so "Val” and I went by rail to Dickinson, N. D., and drove southwards to the ranch. There was not a house on the trail and we camped at night wherever we found good water. At noon on our second day out we came to a camp where under a tent there was a supply of groceries and other articles. There were great bundles of buffalo robes and a small mountain of dried buffalo meat lying open on the ground, all waiting, the owner said, for transportation. The third night out we slept at the Hash Knife horse camp, a mere dugout in a hillside, but the entertainment was good and the shelter better, for just as we unhitched a terrific thunderstorm flooded the whole country. Next morning we pulled quite early into the T ranch, where Bill Coleman, prince of foremen, welcomed us. What a wondrous country it was for grass! Away from |