“’Pears to me as if this outfit was bossing itself,” replied Mr. Chisholm, facing about in his saddle and looking sharply at the newcomers. “You can see for yourself, without looking, that all we can do is to keep the critters pointed toward the West Fork. But you don’t belong on our side of the house. Where might you hail from?”
“I am sheriff of this county, and came out to tell you that you must not trespass on the grounds of our farmers,” answered the officer.
“Well, then, what do you come to us for?” enquired Mr. Chisholm, while the men around him scowled savagely and played with the locks of their rifles. “Go and serve your warning on the critters. Can’t you see that some of them are miles ahead of us? How are we going to turn them back when our horses are nigh about as ready to drop as the cattle are? I tell you it can’t be done!”
“Don’t you know it means ruin to us farmers if we allow those famishing cattle to get into our fields?” demanded the brown-whiskered man, who seemed quite as ready and willing to fight as the cattlemen were. “They will break down our fences and eat up the very crops on which our lives depend. Besides, there are no more grass and water in the country than we want ourselves.”
“I’m powerful sorry to hear you say that, but I don’t see what we are going to do about it,” said Mr. Chisholm. “We’ve got to go somewhere now that we have started.”
The sheriff opened his lips to speak, but the brown-whiskered man was too quick for him.
“You don’t know what you are going to do about it, don’t you?” he said, with a savage emphasis. “Well, I will tell you. When you get to the top of that swell yonder you will see, a couple of miles off, a long line of willows.”
“Now, if that isn’t the best piece of news I have heard for a week I wouldn’t say so!” exclaimed the cattleman. “Where there’s timber there is water, of course. I thought the critters were a-travelling along a trifle pearter than they were a while back. Sam, you drive on ahead with the wagon and fill up the cask, and the rest of us will kinder scatter out on the flanks and head the critters toward the willows our friend speaks of.”
“Will you let me get through with what I have to say?” shouted the farmer, his face growing white with anger. “You go near those willows if you dare! There are more than two hundred men hidden among them, and if our pickets can’t turn your cattle back they’ll shoot them!”