heir mother's care at night or during stoppages. In the old days, when
such calves had no value, they were knocked on the head or carelessly
and cruelly abandoned.

It is a strange fact to note that when a herd is on the trail there is
always a particular steer which, day after day and week after week,
occupies a self-assigned position at the head of the herd, and is
therefore called the "lead steer." I have often wondered what his
thoughts might be, if any; why he so regularly placed himself at the
head of affairs and was apparently so jealous of his commanding
position. Yes, the lead steer is a mysterious creature, yet if displaced
by death or some such cause, another long-legged, keen traveller will at
once take his place. It should be explained that a herd on the trail
travels naturally best in an extended form, two deep, seldom more than
three or six, except towards the tail end, called the "drag": so that a
herd of 2000 steers will form a much-attenuated line a mile in length
from one end to the other.

Which reminds me of an incident in this connection. I was moving a small
lot of steers, some 400 head in all, to pasture in the Panhandle of
Texas. The force consisted only of the wagon driver, one cowboy and
myself. But the cowboy turned out to be quite ignorant of the art of
driving cattle, did more harm than good, and so annoyed me that I
dismissed him to the rear to ride in the wagon if he so chose, and
myself alone undertook to drive, or rather not so much to drive, that
being hardly necessary, as to guide the herd on its course. I got them
strung out beautifully half a mile long, and they were making good time,
when suddenly a confounded sheep herder and his dog met the lead steers
and the procession was at once a scene of the most utter confusion. It
should be explained here that, in the case of a small herd thus strung
out, its guidance, if left to only one man, may be done from the rear by
simply riding out sharply to one side or the other and calling to the
lead cattle. How I did curse that wretch and his dog. A man on foot was
bad enough; but a man on foot with a dog! Horrors! Yet, perhaps, barring
the delay in getting the cattle started again, the incident had its
uses, as it had just previously occurred to me that the line was getting
a bit too long and might soon be out of control. Such are the uses of
adversity.

It can be understood that even a small herd of 400 lusty young steers
can keep a man,