Younger nodded abstractly. Since that event had cost him a thousand head of cows it was but natural that the incident was still fresh in his mind. A few years past a swarm of squatters had invaded the unowned lands in the face of all regulations. When the cowmen had sought to expel them after they had refused to obey the government’s order to move out, the boomers had scattered and fired the parched fall grass and stock had died by thousands throughout the burned areas. The negro cavalry had been sent in to enforce the regulations and were thereafter stationed at Caldwell, patrolling the line and turning back all insistent settlers who would enter. Now the Negro troopers had been withdrawn and a second invasion seemed imminent.
“I know, son; but this time things will be reserved,” Nate prophesied. “Then they ruled the squatters out and stood by us. This time they’ve ruled us out instead.”
“They’ll open it for entry,” Carver agreed. “It’s come to that and it’s likely we can’t postpone it. But this notion that the whole of the Cherokee country will be settled up solid in a few years’ time seems overdrawn.”
“A few months’ time, boy,” the old man corrected. “More likely a few weeks will do the trick.”
Carver’s thoughts reverted to a similar prediction made by Hinman, “It’ll be one hair-raising, mad stampede,” old Joe had said. But Carver still dissented.
“It’ll take nearly fifty thousand families to file on every quarter section in the Strip,” he said. “They’ll come eventually. I know that. But where will that many come from in a few weeks’ time?”
“Son, they’ll come from every odd corner of the country,” Younger stated. “They’ll swarm in and settle down in clouds like blackbirds in a cane field. She’ll be the damnedest, wildest scramble a man will ever live to witness. I’m telling you.”
V
The stockyards had been the scene of feverish activity for weeks. The loading pens were crowded to capacity and throughout every hour of the day and night there sounded the bawls of thirsty cattle and the shrill yelps of cowhands as they urged unwilling steers through the loading chutes. Long trainloads of cows rolled out of Caldwell in swift succession and loading was resumed as soon as empty cattle cars could be obtained. An antiquated switch engine wheezed noisily as it shunted cars along the switches and spotted them at the chutes. Day by day the congestion increased. The quarantine belt swarmed with stock, as some two hundred thousand head had been gathered from the Cherokee lands for shipment. In addition to these the regular run of summer business from the south continued as the trail herds from Texas and New Mexico came plodding up to add to the congestion.
Money flowed back into Caldwell in steady streams as trainloads of cattle were converted into cash on the Kansas City and Chicago markets. Many owners, having been deprived of their range by the stringent orders, found themselves unable to reinvest in cows the funds received from recent shipments. In their restlessness many of these turned to the green tables for relaxation and there were stud games where hundreds and often thousands were wagered on the turn of every card. All the cowhands of the Strip were banked up in the quarantine belt, holding the cows of their employers on grass until such time as they could be cleared and shipped. In their leisure hours they swarmed the streets of Caldwell. Added to these were the trail-herd crews from the whole Southwest, among them many Mexican peelers with their tremendous hats, silver-mounted saddles and three-inch silver rowels.