ten o'clock in the
morning
At the ford on the Republican , a number of strangers were noticed , two of whom rode a mile or more with me , and innocently asked numerous but leading questions . I frankly answered every inquiry , and truthfully , with the exception of the names of the lead foreman and my own . Direct , it was only sixty miles from the crossing on the Republican to Ogalalla , an easy night 's ride , and I was conscious that our whereabouts would be known at the latter place the next morning . For several days before starting across this arid stretch , we had watered at ten o'clock in the morning , so when Flood and Forrest came up , mine being the third herd to reach the last water , I was all ready to pull out . But old man Don counseled another day 's lie-over , as it would be a sore trial for the herds under a July sun , and for a full day twenty thousand beeves grazed in sight of each other on the mesas surrounding the head of Stinking Water . All the herds were aroused with the dawn , and after a few hours ' sun on the cattle , the Indian beeves were turned onto the water and held until the middle of the forenoon , when the start was made for the Platte and Ogalalla . I led out with `` The Apple '' cattle , throwing onto the trail for the first ten miles , which put me well in advance of Bob Quirk and Forrest , who were in my immediate rear .