From Elm Creek to the beginning of the dry drive was one
continual struggle with stampeding cattle or warding off Indians.
In spite of careful handling, the herd became spoiled, and would
run from the howl of a wolf or the snort of a horse. The dark hour
before dawn was usually the crucial period, and until the arid belt
was reached all hands were aroused at two o'clock in the morning.
The start was timed so as to reach the dry drive during the full of
the moon, and although it was a test of endurance for man and
beast, there was relief in the desert waste—from the lurking
savage—which recompensed for its severity. Three sleepless nights
were borne without a murmur, and on our reaching Horsehead Crossing
and watering the cattle they were turned back on the mesa and freed
for th
