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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 297 pages of information about The Log of a Cowboy.
I rode the river, selecting a route; and on our return, all five of us tied our lariats to the tongue and sides of the wagon.  We took a running start, and until we struck the farther bank we gave the wagon no time to sink, but pulled it out of the river with a shout, our horses’ flanks heaving.  Then recrossing the river, we lashed all the bedding to four gentle saddle horses and led them over.  But to get our provisions across was no easy matter, for we were heavily loaded, having taken on a supply at Doan’s sufficient to last us until we reached Dodge, a good month’s journey.  Yet over it must go, and we kept a string of horsemen crossing and recrossing for an hour, carrying everything from pots and pans to axle grease, as well as the staples of life.  When we had got the contents of the wagon finally over and reloaded, there remained nothing but crossing the saddle stock.

The wagon mules had been turned loose, harnessed, while we were crossing the wagon and other effects; and when we drove the remuda into the river, one of the wheel mules turned back, and in spite of every man, reached the bank again.  Part of the boys hurried the others across, but McCann and I turned back after our wheeler.  We caught him without any trouble, but our attempt to lead him across failed.  In spite of all the profanity addressed personally to him, he proved a credit to his sire, and we lost ground in trying to force him into the river.  The boys across the river watched a few minutes, when all recrossed to our assistance.

“Time’s too valuable to monkey with a mule to-day,” said Priest, as he rode up; “skin off that harness.”

It was off at once, and we blindfolded and backed him up to the river bank; then taking a rope around his forelegs, we threw him, hog-tied him, and rolled him into the water.  With a rope around his forelegs and through the ring in the bridle bit, we asked no further favors, but snaked him ignominiously over to the farther side and reharnessed him into the team.

The afternoon was more than half spent when we reached the first bogged cattle, and by the time the wagon overtook us we had several tied up and ready for the mule team to give us a lift.  The herd had been watered in the mean time and was grazing about in sight of the river, and as we occasionally drifted a freed animal out to the herd, we saw others being turned in down the river.  About an hour before sunset, Flood rode up to us and reported having cleared the island ford, while a middle outfit under Forrest was working down towards it.  During the twilight hours of evening, the wagon and saddle horses moved out to the herd and made ready to camp, but we remained until dark, and with but three horses released a number of light cows.  We were the last outfit to reach the wagon, and as Honeyman had tied up our night horses, there was nothing for us to do but eat and go to bed, to which we required no coaxing, for we all knew that early morning would find us once more working with bogged cattle.

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