“Don’t be alarmed,” soothingly said the wounded man.  “This is like a page from life, only twice as natural.  It proves two things:  that you took your range in good time, and that it has a value.  This very afternoon you must push at least one hundred cattle up to those springs above Hackberry Grove.  Let them track and trample around the water and noon in the shade of the motte.  That’s possession, and possession is nine points, and the other fellow can have the tenth.  If any one wants to dispute your rights or encroach on them, I’ll mount a horse and go to the trail for help.  The Texans are the boys to insist on range customs being respected.  It’s time I was riding a little, anyhow.”

Dell returned from scouting the trail, and reported two herds due to reach the Beaver that evening.  “I spent an hour with one of the foremen around the ford,” said he to Forrest; “and he says if you want to see him, you had better come down to the crossing.  He knows you, and makes out you ain’t much hurt.  He says if you come down, he’ll give you a quarter of beef and a speckled heifer.  He’s one of Jess Pressnell’s bosses.”

“That’s the word I’m waiting for,” laughed Forrest.  “Corral the horses and fix up some kind of a mounting block.  It’ll take a scaffold to get me on a horse, but I can fall off.  Make haste, because hereafter we must almost live on horseback.”

The words proved true.  Forrest and Dell, the latter bareback, returned to the trail, while Joel rode to drift their cattle up the Beaver, in order to be in possession of Hackberry Grove and its living springs.  The plains of the West were a lawless country, and if its pioneers would not respect its age-old pastoral customs, then the consequences must be met or borne.

Three weeks had passed since the accident to Forrest, the herds were coming with a vengeance, and the scene of activity changed from the homestead to the trail crossing.  Forrest did not return for a week, foraging on the wagons, camping with the herds, and never failing to levy, to the extent of his ability to plead, on cattle, horses, and needful supplies.  As many as five and six herds arrived in a single day, none of which were allowed to pass without an appeal:  if strangers, in behalf of a hospital; if among friends, the simple facts were sufficient.  Dell was kept on the move with bunches of cattle, or freighting the caches to the homestead, while Joel received the different contingents and scouted the threatened range.

Among old acquaintances there was no denying Forrest, and Dell fell heir to the first extra saddle found among the effects of a trail outfit.  The galled horses had recovered serviceable form, affording each of the boys a mount, and even the threatened cloud against the range lifted.  The herd of a thousand cows crossed the Beaver, and Forrest took particular pains to inform its owners of the whereabouts of unclaimed range the year before.  Evidently the embryo cowmen had taken heed and inquired into range customs, and were accordingly profuse with disclaimers of any wrong intent.