Matagorda was all of seventy miles long, and anywhere from one mile to five miles wide, depending on the state of the tide and the wind.  On the Gulf side there were dunes, and a fairly even beach.  The west, or landward side, was cut by many little coves or inlets, most of them shallow.  There was also a good bit of swampland, with occasional patches of higher, wooded ground.  Down the middle of the island was some good grassland, enough to feed a lot of cattle.

It was also a land of catclaw, mesquite, and prickly pear, with the usual allowance of rattlesnakes, jack rabbits, and deer.

Tap Duvarney rode out to the island with Welt Spicer, hid Walker, and Doc Belden.  There were a lot of cattle, most of them wearing the Rafter K, the Kittery brand.  Among the others, they found a dozen old cows with calves, carrying no brand at all.

"Doc," Tap suggested, "you're carrying a running iron.  You start a fire and heat it up."

By noon they had roped and branded fifteen head - branded them with a Rocking TD.

"Your brand?" Belden asked.  "If it ain't registered, you'd best ride to the county seat and do it.  Else somebody will beat you to it.  Whoever registers that brand owns the cattle."
"I'll do just that, Doc, and thanks.  We'll ride in tomorrow."

Spicer watched the last of the cows walk away, then looked around at Duvarney.  "What's that for?  I thought the Kittery brand was Rafter K?"

"It is... until we've road-branded; and until we've a road brand for both of us, I've nothing to show for my investment, so I'm starting my own brand.  I'll have something to build on, something to use as a bargaining point."

Spicer nodded doubtfully.  "You got to be careful," he warned.  "Tom may not like it."
"He'll like it.  Half the cattle in Texas wearing brands got them just that way.  And remember?  I bought a piece of this outfit."

They rode on, and finally branded two more cows; then they crossed back to the mainland.  Now there were not only a lot of cattle on the island, but also a lot of cattle on the peninsulas, and there was no reason why they should not start the drive.

Tom Kittery had thrown up a brush corral, and there were twenty new horses in it when they returned.  They all wore the Coppinger brand.  Tap Duvarney studied them thoughtfully, then looked at the tracks on the ground, the tracks of three horses that had carried riders.  The men were at the fire when he came up.

Tap's own men had drifted in and were gathered around a smaller fire.