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    Jud Low Cattle Company
    Jud Low Cattle Company
    Jud Low Cattle Company
    Ebook49 pages45 minutes

    Jud Low Cattle Company

    By John Thurmond

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    About this ebook


    Jud Low was eighteen years old, from the East, and as green as could be when is father decided to pull up stakes and set them on the Oregon Trail. Not far from Abilene, Kansas, the two were put out of the wagon train after Jud's father got into an argument with the wagon master. The father and son headed south.

    Not long after, Jud found himself alone and on foot, his father having frozen to death during a cold winter night. He made his way south and stumbled onto a small cattle ranch, finding himself a job and a great friendship. When his new friend is murdered and robbed, Jud finds himself forced to become a man sooner than he'd expected to.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOutlaws Publishing LLC
    Release dateAug 13, 2024
    ISBN9798227655783
    Jud Low Cattle Company
    Author

    John Thurmond

    John has since left this world for a better place.

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      Book preview

      Jud Low Cattle Company - John Thurmond

      Copyright 2018 by John Thurmond

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recorded, photocopied, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

      The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copywritten material.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

      This book may contain views, premises, depictions, and statements by the author that are not necessarily shared or endorsed by Pale Horse Publications.

      For information contact: [email protected]

      Cover design by Pale Horse Publications

      Published by Pale Horse Publications

      April 2021

      10987654321

      Chapter One

      My name is Jud Low. I’m eighteen years old and out of a job. I had one, helpin’ out a man by the name of Clay Winters to drive a herd of fifty-five summer-fattened cows and calves to Abilene, Kansas. The geese were already flying south, we’d been front of them on the drive, but they passed us. I guess I should first tell ya how it was I came to be workin’ for old man Winters. 

      My Pop and me joined up with a wagon train headed to Oregon from St. Louis late that year. The wagon master said that we would have to winter in Fort Kearney. Pop and the wagon master got into an argument over our wagon. The wagon master told Pop he needed to replace all the wheels or have a blacksmith rework the bands. He said they bands were all loose and that he wouldn’t carry us any farther until they were fixed. Pop got mad and told me that we were leaving, headed south.

      Pop saw the sand hills south of the North Plat River and figured it might be a good place to settle and try to farm. We learned real quick it was all sand and tall grass. We set up a lean-to next to a big lake. There were a lot of birds around. We figured we had it made as we could either shoot our dinner or fish. It worked out good until all the birds flew on to the south. The wolves killed our horse and we ate some of it, but the wolves got the rest. Then one night, my Pop froze to death. I was lucky I hadn’t come to the same fate.

      I set out on foot with only a blanket, my old Henry 44/40 rimfire rifle, and forty rounds of ammo. I walked until I began to see some cows in a valley. Not long after that, I came up to a cabin or sorts. It was a place dug into the side of a hill, with boards and canvas covering the hole. There was a chimney made of a tin pipe and no windows. I stood out front and laid my rifle on the ground.

      Hello! I hollered out as loud as I could. After the third time I saw the door move and was greeted by old man Clay Winters himself. I introduced myself and told the man about my pop freezing to death, and that I had no place to go. I’m willing to do anything to get by until spring, I told him.

      The only reason Winters

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