“We found them actually on their uppers,” said he; “they hadn’t tasted meat in months, and were living on greens and garden truck.  It’s a good range, and we must get them some cattle.  The first year may be a little tough, but by drawing on all of Lovell’s wagons for the necessary staples, we can provision them until next spring.  You must leave some flour and salt and beans and the like.”

“Beans!” echoed Seay.  “That will surely tickle my cook.  Did you ever notice that the farther north it goes, a Texas trail outfit gets tastier?  Let it start out on bacon and beans and blackstrap, and after the herd crosses the Platte, the varmints want prairie chicken and fried trout.  Tasty!  Why, those old boys develop an elegant taste for dainties.  Nothing but good old beef ever makes them even think of home again.  Yes, my cook will give you his last bean, and make a presentation speech gratis.”

Forrest’s wound had begun to mend, the soreness and swelling had left the knee joint, and the following morning Seay spent in making crutches.  Crude and for temporary use, the wounded man tried them out, and by assistance reached the entrance, where he was eased into an old family rocking-chair in the shade of the tent.

“This has been the dream of my life,” said he, “to sit like some old patriarch in my tent door and count my cattle.  See that white cow yonder?” pointing with a crutch.  “Well, she belongs to your uncle John Quincy.  And that reminds me that she and her calf are up as a reward to complete the roll of brands.  Boys, are you ready?”

The revised lists were submitted for inspection.  Compared with the one rendered by Straw, there was still a difference in Dell’s regarding a dun cow, while Joel’s list varied on three head.  Under the classification the errors were easily located, and summoning the visiting foreman, Forrest explained the situation.

“I’ll have to appoint you umpire in deciding this matter.  Here’s the roll furnished by Nat Straw, and you’ll compare it with Dell and Joel’s.  Of course, old Nat didn’t care a whoopee about getting the list perfect, and my boy may be right on that dun cow.  Joel differs on a three-year-old, a heifer, and a yearling steer.  Now, get them straight, because we’re expecting to receive more cattle this evening.  Pass on these brands before you leave to meet your herd this afternoon.  And remember, there’s a cow and calf at stake for whichever one of these boys first gets the roll correct.”

After dinner the three rode away for a final inspection.  The cattle were lazy and logy from water, often admitting of riding within a rod, thus rendering the brands readable at a glance.  Dell led the way to the dun cow, but before Seay could pass an opinion, the boy called for his list in possession of the man.  “Let me take my roll a minute,” said he, “and I’ll make the correction.  It isn’t a four bar four, it’s four equals four; there’s two bars instead of one.  The cow and calf is mine.  That gives me three.”