CHAPTER IV

CHRISTMAS

The branding on the home range was an easy matter.  The cattle were compelled to water from the Nueces, so that their range was never over five or six miles from the river.  There was no occasion even to take out the wagon, though we made a one-night camp at the mouth of the Ganso, and another about midway between the home ranch and Shepherd’s Ferry, pack mules serving instead of the wagon.  On the home range, in gathering to brand, we never disturbed the mixed cattle, cutting out only the cows and calves.  On the round-up below the Ganso, we had over three thousand cattle in one rodeo, finding less than five hundred calves belonging to Las Palomas, the bulk on this particular occasion being steer cattle.  There had been little demand for steers for several seasons and they had accumulated until many of them were fine beeves, five and six years old.

When the branding proper was concluded, our tally showed nearly fifty-one hundred calves branded that season, indicating about twenty thousand cattle in the Las Palomas brand.  After a week’s rest, with fresh horses, we re-rode the home range in squads of two, and branded any calves we found with a running iron.  This added nearly a hundred more to our original number.  On an open range like ours, it was not expected that everything would be branded; but on quitting, it is safe to say we had missed less than one per cent of our calf crop.

The cattle finished, we turned our attention to the branding of the horse stock.  The Christmas season was approaching, and we wanted to get the work well in hand for the usual holiday festivities.  There were some fifty manadas of mares belonging to Las Palomas, about one fourth of which were used for the rearing of mules, the others growing our saddle horses for ranch use.  These bands numbered twenty to twenty-five brood mares each, and ranged mostly within twenty miles of the home ranch.  They were never disturbed except to brand the colts, market surplus stock, or cut out the mature geldings to be broken for saddle use.  Each manada had its own range, never trespassing on others, but when they were brought together in the corral there was many a battle royal among the stallions.

I was anxious to get the work over in good season, for I intended to ask for a two weeks’ leave of absence.  My parents lived near Cibollo Ford on the San Antonio River, and I made it a rule to spend Christmas with my own people.  This year, in particular, I had a double motive in going home; for the mouth of San Miguel and the McLeod ranch lay directly on my route.  I had figured matters down to a fraction; I would have a good excuse for staying one night going and another returning.  And it would be my fault if I did not reach the ranch at an hour when an invitation to remain over night would be simply imperative under the canons of Texas hospitality.  I had done enough hard work since the dance at Shepherd’s to drive every thought of Esther McLeod out of my mind if that were possible, but as the time drew nearer her invitation to call was ever uppermost in my thoughts.