This cattle country reminiscence was written by a man who was born in 1888 and was 13 years old when he saw his first automobile. He fought in the trenches in France and lived to see men walking on the moon. But of all the things he saw and did in his life, his fondest memories were of being a young cowboy.

I am old and my memory is not to be trusted. However, some things that happened when I was 20 years old, with good horses to ride and earning a dollar a day, are as clear and bright in my mind as if they happened only yesterday.

One sunny day early in the spring of 1908, I sat with a small group of other cowhands and watched a vast herd of 10,000 longhorn steers move across a valley and over a ridge of hills. The entire herd was in sight for only a few minutes until the lead cattle went over the crest of the hills and out of sight. Ten thousand cattle is quite a herd by any standard, but these all wore the same brand, raised by one man on his own land. They belonged to Captain Charles Schreiner. Schreiner was selling off large numbers of cattle to make room for sheep and Angora goats. He was starting a program that would stabilize the economy of the Texas Hill Country and bring lasting prosperity to an area larger than many states. Schreiner was not only one of the largest cattle ranchers in the state, he was also a merchant and banker. His bank was sound and his general store in Kerrville was one of the largest in the area. Being a smart businessman, he wanted to see the Hill Country supporting hundreds of small ranches rather than a handful of enormous spreads. He felt that sheep and Angora goats, together with a few good cattle, would be an ideal combination for the rocky, hilly terrain.

In order to demonstrate the soundness of his theory and to provide room for the sheep, Schreiner sold his steers, with delivery to be made in March at the James River Ranch. At that time, Schreiner lands were scattered all over Central Texas, often as much as 75 miles apart. I doubt if anyone knew exactly how much land Schreiner owned, but he was one of the largest landowners in the state at that time. In order to gather all those cattle within the time limit, it was necessary to use four complete cow outfits. Jim and Bill Heffner each had an outfit, a Mr. Colbath had another, and Tom Reynolds, foreman of the great Paint Rock Ranch near Rock Springs, had the fourth. I rode for Reynolds. Jill Shirley of Rock Springs and Bud Bartley from Telegraph were also riding with Reynolds.

Cowmen used to say that given enough time, one good outfit could work all the range that lies outdoors. Perhaps, when time permitted and the range was ordinary country. Schreiner's lands were not ordinary country. Most of it was so rough that only horses raised in the mountains could be used there. The rocky hills were covered with scrub oak and the hated, sometimes deadly, cedar brakes.

As wild as the native deer, most of the steers were living in the dense cedar brakes and canyons. The orders were explicit: "Get them all!" To round them up took time, top hands and fast horses. Often they had to be roped and led out. A man might be a first-class cowhand in another part of the country and still not be able to catch even one ordinary range cow in this sort of country. Catching an old outlaw steer in the cedar brakes was a highly dangerous undertaking. A dead cedar snag can go through a man's body like a lance. I've seen it happen. However dangerous and difficult, it was a routine part of the job.

The four outfits rounded up their steers and arrived at the Live Oak rendezvous on schedule. Robert Real, boss of the Live Oak Ranch, had cleared a four-section pasture (2,560 acres) for the steers. We set up guard that night, two men at each corner to keep the cattle from bunching up. At sunrise, the cattle were lined out and counted--2,500 to each outfit. We reached James River Ranch without further incident, and Bill Bevans and his men took over.

When many cattle were sold, the buyer usually reserved the right to reject a certain percentage of the herd. These rejects were called "cutbacks." The process of separating the rejected steers from the main herd, in this case, was a sight worth seeing. It called for men who knew cattle. They had to be experts, as well as good riders. Everybody has heard of cutting horses and many people have seen cutting horses, but only a few have ridden a top-rated cutting horse long enough to work a big herd. After such a horse gets warmed up and really gets going, he is hard to ride. Men who could ride a bucking horse easily sometimes had to claw leather to just stay on a cutting horse. Bevans and his top hands worked those four herds in just one day.

We took 800 cutbacks with us when we started back to Paint Rock Ranch the next morning. We lost a big old brindle longhorn steer late one evening. Perhaps we were a little careless. The trail led up a hillside at the edge of a great cedar brake and the temptation was too much for the old brindle. He ran, and in seconds was roaming in his favorite terrain. We might as well have tried to catch a rabbit in a briar patch. We just let him go. After all, he was on Schreiner land and someone would get him sooner or later. Other than losing that one renegade, our trip home was uneventful. The tired horses, cattle and men had little to do. It was a small herd of trail-broken steers, the easiest of all to drive.

One old longhorn appointed himself leader. Every morning as we left the bed-ground and moved them out, he would go to the front of the herd and keep his place there all day, watching every move the point men made and leading the herd accordingly. It took a week to get back to the Paint Rock Ranch, but it was a real pleasure trip. One of the men had a good tenor voice and sang a great deal. The song he liked best was "Sweet Evelina." It had an unlimited number of verses, all unprintable.

One night we made camp at the 7OL Ranch. As a surprise and a special treat, the cook bought all the eggs the ranch manager's wife had. Seven dozen eggs scrambled in a big skillet tasted mighty good and put everyone in a happy mood. After supper, we heard more startling disclosures about "Sweet Evelina" and were forced to conclude that Evelina was a very naughty girl indeed.

Beneath all the kidding and fun was the sobering realization that the ranch would never again muster so many steers. The days of the big herds were gone. We all knew that Schreiner was going into the sheep business. At the Live Oak Ranch, Bob Real had crews of men building what he called wolf-proof fences. He had 87 wolfhounds in his kennels. When a pasture was completely fenced, he would go in with the hounds who would then run down and kill any predatory animals. Bob rode with those dogs night after night. His men said that when the chase got real hot, he made more noise than the dogs did. The fencing program continued until all the Schreiner lands were enclosed by wolf-proof fences.

The main reason for building wolf-proof fences was to eliminate the necessity of herding the sheep and goats. Since the time of biblical patriarchs, sheep have had shepherds. Schreiner was going to prove that sheep and goats could do just as well without herders. Many small ranchers could not afford to hire any help, and they soon learned that good fences and convenient water was all that was needed, except during lambing or in bad weather. The idea caught on in a hurry. Every ranchman who could possibly do so began to build wolf-proof fences. Within a very few years, practically all the ranches in the Hill Country were wolf-proof, and shepherds became as obsolete as the ox wagon. Schreiner helped the new sheep men get started; he sold them land or loaned them money and encouraged them in every way. He established a market for wool and mohair and arranged a warehousing system so that it could be stored until sold. Incidentally, Schreiner's big store in Kerrville sold enormous quantities of fencing materials, and his bank made many a loan. As I said before, he was a good businessman.

Some of the boys stayed on and learned to be good sheep and goat men, and a few even grew rich in the process. Many of the descendents of these small pioneer ranchers are experts today in the field of animal husbandry. Many are college graduates. One of them, John Connally, became governor of Texas, and another, Lyndon Johnson, became president of the United States.

I, being less adaptable, chose to drift westward, ahead of the wooly invaders.

Today, as I remember the crowning glory of a vast cattle empire marching across that sunlit valley, seen by only a few trail-weary cowboys, I don't wonder that we all sat tall in the saddle, at least for a little while.

Today, the YO Ranch is still owned by the Schreiner family. The 40,000-acre ranch is home to 10,000 animal species, including 60 exotic species and 1,000 longhorns, one of the largest herds in the world. The ranch is served by Central Texas Electric Co-op.

Before his death in 1972, Leo Turner sent this story to his grandson, Jeff Sargent, a contributor to Texas Co-op Power. Turner was a cowboy, well driller, captain in the U.S. Army, and a historian who wrote a brief history of Fort Sam Houston in 1936. "He was a man of kindness and gentle wit, and 30 years later I still miss him," Sargent says.

Comments about the magazine? E-mail Editor Kaye Northcott at kayen@texas-ec.org ©2004 Texas Electric Cooperatives, Inc.