into the mire.  Our herd crossed in considerably less time than did Slaughter’s beeves, but we had five head to pull out; this, however, was considered nothing, as they were light, and the mire was as thin as soup.  Our wagon and saddle horses crossed while we were pulling out the bogged cattle, and about half the outfit, taking the herd, drifted them forward towards the Solomon.  Since Millet intended crossing that evening, herds were likely to be too thick for safety at night.  The sun was hardly an hour high when the last herd came up to cross.  The oxen were put in the lead, as with ours, and all four of the oxen took the bridge, but when the cattle reached the bridge, they made a decided balk and refused to follow the oxen.  Not a hoof of the herd would even set foot on the bridge.  The oxen were brought back several times, but in spite of all coaxing and nursing, and our best endeavors and devices, they would not risk it.  We worked with them until dusk, when all three of the foremen decided it was useless to try longer, but both Slaughter and Flood promised to bring back part of their outfits in the morning and make another effort.

McCann’s camp-fire piloted us to our wagon, at least three miles from the bridge, for he had laid in a good supply of wood during the day; and on our arrival our night horses were tied up, and everything made ready for the night.  The next morning we started the herd, but Flood took four of us with him and went back to Big Boggy.  The Millet herd was nearly two miles back from the bridge, where we found Slaughter at Jacklin’s wagon; and several more of his men were, we learned, coming over with the oxen at about ten o’clock.  That hour was considered soon enough by the bosses, as the heat of the day would be on the herd by that time, which would make them lazy.  When the oxen arrived at the bridge, we rode out twenty strong and lined the cattle up for another trial.  They had grazed until they were full and sleepy, but the memory of some of them was too vivid of the hours they had spent in the slimy ooze of Big Boggy once on a time, and they began milling on sight of the stream.  We took them back and brought them up a second time with the same results.  We then brought them around in a circle a mile in diameter, and as the rear end of the herd was passing, we turned the last hundred, and throwing the oxen into their lead, started them for the bridge; but they too sulked and would have none of it.  It was now high noon, so we turned the herd and allowed them to graze back while we went to dinner.  Millet’s foreman was rather discouraged with the outlook, but Slaughter said they must be crossed if he had to lay over a week and help.  After dinner, Jacklin asked us if we wanted a change of horses, and as we could see a twenty mile ride ahead of us in overtaking our herd, Flood accepted.