Tufts of grass were well scattered over the sandy ground, but it was
high and thick, and considering the immense area in sight, there was
grazing for a million head of stock.
We made three stops in the forenoon, one at a likely place to water the
horses, the second at a chuckwagon belonging to cowboys who were riding
after stock, and the third at a small cluster of adobe and stone houses,
constituting a hamlet the driver called Sampson, named after the
Colonel. From that point on to Linrock there were only a few ranches,
each one controlling great acreage.
Early in the afternoon from a ridgetop we sighted Linrock, a green path
in the mass of gray. For the barrens of Texas it was indeed a fair
sight.
But I was more concerned with its remoteness from civilization than its
beauty. At that time in the early 'seventies, when the vast western
third of Texas was a wilderness, the pioneer had done wonders to settle
there and establish places like Linrock.
As we rolled swiftly along, the whole sweeping range was dotted with
cattle, and farther on, within a few miles of town, there were droves
of horses that brought enthusiastic praise from Miss Sampson and her
cousin.
"Plenty of room here for the long rides," I said, waving a hand at the
gray-green expanse.
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