I drove away from Madison with these two steeds, and of the pretty figure I cut the morning when red-haired Alice climbed up, offered to go with me, and kissed me before she climbed down.  Would she have done this if I had been driving oxen, or still worse, those animals which few thought worth anything as draught animals—­cows?  And then I thought of Flora’s lameness the day before yesterday.  Was it honest to let Dunlap and Thatcher drive off to liberate the nation with a horse that might go lame?

“Let me have a horse,” said I to Preston.  “I want to catch them and tell them something.”

I rode up behind the Abolitionists’ wagon, waving my hat and shouting.  They pulled up and waited.

“What’s up?” asked Dunlap.  “Going with us after all?  I hope so, my boy.”

“No,” said I, “I just wanted to say that that nigh mare was lame day before yesterday, and I—­I—­I didn’t want you to start off with her without knowing it.”

Dunlap asked about her lameness, and got out to look her over.  He felt of her muscles, and carefully scrutinized her for swelling or swinney or splint or spavin or thoroughpin.  Then he lifted one foot after another, and cleaned out about the frog, tapping the hoof all over for soreness.  Down deep beside the frog of the foot which she had favored he found a little pebble.

“That’s what it was,” said he, holding the pebble up.  “She’ll be all right now.  Thank you for telling me.  It was the square thing to do.”

“If you don’t feel safe to go on with the team,” said I, “I’ll trade back.”

“No,” said he, “we’re needed in Kansas; and,” turning up an oil-cloth and showing me a dozen or so of the Sharp’s rifles, “so are these.  And let me tell you, boy, if I’m any judge of men, the time will come when you won’t feel so bad to lose half a dozen horses, as you feel now to be traded out of Flora and Fanny, and make a hundred dollars by the trade.  Get up, Flora; go long, Fanny; good-by, Jake!” And they drove off to the Border Wars.  I had made my first sacrifice to the cause of the productiveness of the Vandemark Farm.

That night a wagon went away from the Preston farm with the passengers going to Canada by the U.G.  Railway The next morning I began the task of fitting yokes to my two span of heifers, and that afternoon, I gave Lily and Cherry their first lesson.  I had had some experience in driving cattle on Mrs. Fogg’s farm in Herkimer County, but I should have made a botch job of it if it had not been for Mr. Preston, who knew all there was to know about cattle, and while protesting that cows could not be driven, helped me drive them.  In less than a week my cows were driving as prettily as any oxen.  They were light and active, and overtook team after team of laboring steers every day I drove them.  Furthermore, they gave me milk.  I fed them well, worked them rather lightly, and by putting the new milk in a churn I bought at Mineral Point, I found that the motion of the wagon would bring the butter as well as any churning.  I had cream for my coffee, butter for my bread, milk for my mush, and lived high.  A good deal of fun was poked at me about my team of cows; but people were always glad to camp with me and share my fare.