Chapter 29
The Cattle Drive September 1875
Frank Walcott slipped on his boots and grabbed his flannel shirt off the cot buttoning it as he walked to the door. He grabbed his oiled canvas duster, quirt and hat before warily stepping into the cold Wyoming morning. The wind slapped his duster against his legs and whipped him in his face, freezing the first breath he sucked into his lungs. It seemed, as he got older, the harder it was to get going in the morning. It was 4:00 a.m. and the sun wouldn’t be showing its face for another three hours. He had to wake Gabby Harkins, the cook and then Tom Corlett who would get the rest of the boys ready. Today would be the first day of what was going to be a two month long cattle drive to Bozeman, Montana.
Frank had been foreman of the Circle L going on five years now and he never tired of the cattle drives. He loved being a drover. When things were going well it was a relaxing job, riding your horse at an easy pace alongside a couple of thousand braying cattle. And the nights didn’t get any better than when you were on the trail, with the soft nickering of the remuda and a full moon with thousands of stars lighting up the clear night sky and the smell of smoke and the crackle of wood burning in a campfire. But when things went wrong, and they did, the danger of thousands of stampeding cattle was real. Anything could set them off, the crack of thunder, some stray old buffalo bulls, anything. Frank and the boys would be taking two thousand head of beef to the Black Foot Indian Reservation in Montana to fulfill a government contract that I. P. Olive had signed with the Bureau of Indian Affairs.
Walcott, Ben Jones, Bill Walker, Sam Clover and the Champion brothers, Nick and Ray, went out and captured one hundred mustangs just south of Medicine Bow last month. They brought them all back to the Circle L and saddle broke ‘em. They would be part of the remuda they would take with them today. He would let the boys draw to see who would get first pick on the horses and divide ‘em up accordingly. There were some mighty good ones in there. He liked a stout bay stallion that he pulled out for himself after they branded ‘em with a Circle L. He named him Takoda, a Sioux name meaning strong of heart. With Takoda and his grulla gelding, named Bandit, he had himself two strong horses for the drive. He would pick out more today along with the rest of the boys.
Yesterday, Gabby and Tom took the wagon into Bosler and laid in supplies for two months. They had six big oxen they would be taking along to pull the wagon. He couldn’t think of anything he had forgotten. He had been doing this for so long it had become second nature to him.
Tom was already up and dressed. He had his bedroll in one hand and his saddle and tack in the other and was heading to the corral to get Diego, his big Appaloosa gelding. Frank figured Diego and Bandit were two of the best cattle horses this side of the Missouri River.
It wasn’t long before all the boys were saddled and ready. They would round up the herd and drive them to Bozeman covering between fifteen to twenty miles a day.
Walcott, starting the drive on Takoda, rode to the main house to let Olive know they were ready to leave.
“We’re ready boss.”
“Here’s your letter of credit,” Olive replied.
The letter of credit was to purchase goods in the towns they would be passing on their way to the Black Foot Reservation.
Walcott had Tom, Ben Jones and Bill Walker riding point with Nick and Ray Champion as outriders on one side. Sam Clover and D.E. “The Texas Kid” Brooke would be the outriders on the other. Ken Blades, Rory Lovell, and Jasper McCabe were the drivers. He had Bill Franklin stay with Gabby and the chuck wagon while the remuda, numbering one hundred and forty, ten for each man, were under John Kelly and a new man, a big Norwegian named Leslie “Little Pea” Frinak who actually appeared to be afraid of the horses. Walcott had to chuckle to himself wondering how Frinak would fare on the trail and just where he got that nickname Little Pea.
When they got to Bozeman, he planned to cut The Texas Kid loose. What he did to that little Mexican boy was inexcusable, beating him until he was near death and then just leaving him in the barn to die. Maybe he should just shoot him, he thought. He just might.
After they gathered the herd, Tom Corlett yelled out “OK boys, let’s get ‘em strung out and then bring them in a big circle.”
A government agent, Ed Cauley and his assistant, Lou Crowson, rode out for a count. Tom told Ken Blades, Jasper McCabe, Rory Lovell and Sam Clover to tie a tally string to their saddles and get a count. Two went to one side and went in one direction and the other two went to the opposite side and direction of the herd. They each took a government agent along with them as they took a count.
After they circled the herdTom called out, “Whatcha count Kenny?”
“I come up with two thousand one hunnert and twenty,” Kenny bellowed.
“How ‘bout you Rory?”
“I got two thousand one hundred and fifty,” Rory replied.
“That’s what I come with too,” called Sam Clover
“Jasper?” Tom asked.
“I counted two thousand one hundred and sixty two,” Jasper said.
Since two of the counters agreed on a number, two thousand one hundred and fifty head, that is the count they agreed on. Ed Cauley brought out the papers and Frank and Olive signed it and they were on their way.