or even two or three men, busy enough, especially if
there are any cattle on the range you are passing through. In this case
there were fortunately few.

Amarillo, being the southern end of the Kansas railroad, was a great
cattle market. Buyers and sellers met there; and there, immediately
around the town, were congregated at any time in spring as many as
40,000 cattle, all under herd. Amarillo was then the greatest cattle
town in the world. She was the successor of such towns as Wichita and
Fort Dodge, simply because she was at the western terminus of the
railway. Though a pretty rowdy town her manners were an improvement on
such places as Dodge, where in the height of her wickedness a gambling
dispute, rivalry for the smile of a woman, or the slightest discourtesy,
was sufficient ground for the shedding of blood.

My life during these eight years had its pleasures and its troubles;
certainly much discomfort and a lot of disagreeable work. During the
working season, April to November, my time was mostly spent with the
round-up or on the trail, with occasional visits to our head office in
Las Vegas, and also to Amarillo on business matters. To cover these
immense distances, near 300 miles (there were few or no desirable
stopping-places), I used a light spring wagon or ambulance, holding my
bedding, mess-box, grain for the team, some water, stake ropes, and a
hundred other things. I nearly always camped out on the prairie, of
course cooked my own meals, was out in all kinds of weather--sun, rain,
heat and drought, blizzards and frightful lightning storms. My favourite
team was a couple of grey ponies. From being so much together we got to
understand each other pretty thoroughly, and we had our adventures as
well. Once on going up a very steep hill the ponies lost their footing.
The wagon backed and turned over, and ponies and wagon rolled over and
over down the hill among the rocks till hung up on a cedar stump. I was
not much hurt, but found the ponies half covered with stones and rocks
that had rolled on to them, the wagon upside down and camping material
scattered everywhere. Cutting the tugs and rolling the stones away the
ponies jumped up miraculously little injured, and even the wagon still
serviceable, but I had to walk a long way to get assistance. Then we
have fallen through rotten bridges, stuck in rivers and quicksands, and
all sorts of things.

One pony of this team, "Punch," was really the hardiest, best-