We passed to the west of the town of Wichita and reached our destination early in June.  There I found several letters awaiting me, with instructions to dispose of the herd or to report what was the prospect of effecting a sale.  We camped about five miles from Abilene, and before I could post myself on cattle values half a dozen buyers had looked the herd over.  Men were in the market anxious for beef cattle with which to fill army and Indian contracts, feeders from Eastern States, shippers and speculators galore, cowmen looking for she stuff with which to start new ranches, while scarcely a day passed but inquiry was made by settlers for oxen with which to break prairie.  A dozen herds had arrived ahead of us, the market had fairly opened, and, once I got the drift of current prices, I was as busy as a farmer getting ready to cut his buckwheat.  Every yoke of oxen was sold within a week, one ranchman took all the cows, an army contractor took one thousand of the largest beeves, feeders from Iowa took the younger steers, and within six weeks after arriving I did not have a hoof left.  In the mean time I kept an account of each sale, brands and numbers, in order to render a statement to the owners of the cattle.  As fast as the money was received I sent it home by drafts, except the proceeds from the oxen, which was a private matter.  I bought and sold two whole remudas of horses on speculation, clearing fifteen of the best ones and three hundred dollars on the transactions.

The facilities for handling cattle at Abilene were not completed until late in the season of ’67, yet twenty-five thousand cattle found a market there that summer and fall.  The drive of the present year would triple that number, and every one seemed pleased with future prospects.  The town took on an air of frontier prosperity; saloons and gambling and dance halls multiplied, and every legitimate line of business flourished like a green bay tree.  I made the acquaintance of every drover and was generally looked upon as an extra good salesman, the secret being in our cattle, which were choice.  For instance, Northern buyers could see three dollars a head difference in three-year-old steers, but with the average Texan the age classified them all alike.  My boyhood knowledge of cattle had taught me the difference, but in range dealing it was impossible to apply the principle.  I made many warm friends among both buyers and drovers, bringing them together and effecting sales, and it was really a matter of regret that I had to leave before the season was over.  I loved the atmosphere of dicker and traffic, had made one of the largest sales of the season with our beeves, and was leaving, firm in the conviction that I had overlooked no feature of the market of future value.