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The
children stood holding to the chain link fence around the yard of their home
on the prairie. Something unusual was happening. The quiet uneventful days
were now interrupted with activity. Men on horses were riding to and fro,
back and forth alongside the fast-moving herd in the pasture across from the
ranch home that was called “The Strike Ax.” The gates to two pastures were
open and it was obvious the cattle were hurriedly on their way going toward
something. The girl and her brother were too young to know about any
crisis. Their world was filled with play and activities within the large,
fenced yard which was shaded by a huge old maple tree whose branches touched
the ground in places. The shade it gave covered the whole yard.
The cowboys were working as they always did with a herd. One might
whistle in a shrill, staccato way as he turned his horse and headed off in a
totally different direction. Another pulled a Stetson hat from his head and
waved it as a signal to another rider. The herd was quickly moving toward
the gate and was followed by the drag men who pushed the less willing cattle
at the end of the line, along. The men's faces and clothing were covered
with dust from the herd there at the end and less popular place to work a
cattle drive.
It must have been the smell of the water that caused the cattle to run
like they were in a stampede. If the full, but rented-pond in the next
pasture wasn't so close there would have been an unstoppable run-away. A
second ago there had been a lolling herd by now their hooves made a
thundering sound as they raced through the two gates of both pastures.
As the children watched the thirsty herd so many of the cattle drank so
much water they were actually buoyant on the water. Their bloated stomachs
seemed to make them actually float. It was a sight the children never
forgot. This was in the early part of the year of 1941. The drought had
caused the pastures of what had been protein rich, blue stem prairie grass
to be depleted. This had caused their father and uncle to have to haul hay
in from other parts of the country for cattle feed. Water was a problem not
so easily met. The ponds were dry. A well that had never gone dry was
something the men wanted to save for human use. By some blessing a
neighbor's pond was still holding water and he had no herd of his own at the
time in that pasture so he willingly leased the pond to them.
“I wouldn't have had those cattle running like they did,” Lee spoke to
Velma over their evening meal. “There's no accounting for the way hands have
always worked cattle. I guess all's well that ends well, though. We didn't
lose any calves, and that is something.”
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