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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12281 ***
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CATTLE BRANDS
+
+A Collection of Western Camp-fire Stories
+
+by ANDY ADAMS
+
+
+1906
+
+
+
+
+TO MR. AND MRS. HENRY RUSSELL WRAY
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+ I. DRIFTING NORTH
+ II. SEIGERMAN’S PER CENT
+ III. “BAD MEDICINE”
+ IV. A WINTER ROUND-UP
+ V. A COLLEGE VAGABOND
+ VI. THE DOUBLE TRAIL
+ VII. RANGERING
+ VIII. AT COMANCHE FORD
+ IX. AROUND THE SPADE WAGON
+ X. THE RANSOM OF DON RAMON MORA
+ XI. THE PASSING OF PEG-LEG
+ XII. IN THE HANDS OF HIS FRIENDS
+ XIII. A QUESTION OF POSSESSION
+ XIV. THE STORY OF A POKER STEER
+
+“The Passing of Peg-Leg” and “A Question of Possession” appeared
+originally in _Leslie’s Monthly_, and are here reprinted by permission
+of the publishers of that magazine.
+
+BRANDS
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CATTLE BRANDS
+
+
+
+
+I
+DRIFTING NORTH
+
+
+It was a wet, bad year on the Old Western Trail. From Red River north
+and all along was herd after herd waterbound by high water in the
+rivers. Our outfit lay over nearly a week on the South Canadian, but we
+were not alone, for there were five other herds waiting for the river
+to go down. This river had tumbled over her banks for several days, and
+the driftwood that was coming down would have made it dangerous
+swimming for cattle.
+
+We were expected to arrive in Dodge early in June, but when we reached
+the North Fork of the Canadian, we were two weeks behind time.
+
+Old George Carter, the owner of the herd, was growing very impatient
+about us, for he had had no word from us after we had crossed Red River
+at Doan’s crossing. Other cowmen lying around Dodge, who had herds on
+the trail, could hear nothing from their men, but in their experience
+and confidence in their outfits guessed the cause—it was water. Our
+surprise when we came opposite Camp Supply to have Carter and a
+stranger ride out to meet us was not to be measured. They had got
+impatient waiting, and had taken the mail buckboard to Supply, making
+inquiries along the route for the _Hat_ herd, which had not passed up
+the trail, so they were assured. Carter was so impatient that he could
+not wait, as he had a prospective buyer on his hands, and the delay in
+the appearing of the herd was very annoying to him. Old George was as
+tickled as a little boy to meet us all.
+
+The cattle were looking as fine as silk. The lay-overs had rested them.
+The horses were in good trim, considering the amount of wet weather we
+had had. Here and there was a nigger brand, but these saddle galls were
+unavoidable when using wet blankets. The cattle were twos and threes.
+We had left western Texas with a few over thirty-two hundred head and
+were none shy. We could have counted out more, but on some of them the
+Hat brand had possibly faded out. We went into a cosy camp early in the
+evening. Everything needful was at hand, wood, water, and grass. Cowmen
+in those days prided themselves on their outfits, and Carter was a
+trifle gone on his men.
+
+With the cattle on hand, drinking was out of the question, so the only
+way to show us any regard was to bring us a box of cigars. He must have
+brought those cigars from Texas, for they were wrapped in a copy of the
+Fort Worth “Gazette.” It was a month old and full of news. Every man in
+the outfit read and reread it. There were several train robberies
+reported in it, but that was common in those days. They had nominated
+for Governor “The Little Cavalryman,” Sol Ross, and this paper
+estimated that his majority would be at least two hundred thousand. We
+were all anxious to get home in time to vote for him.
+
+Theodore Baughman was foreman of our outfit. Baugh was a typical
+trail-boss. He had learned to take things as they came, play the cards
+as they fell, and not fret himself about little things that could not
+be helped. If we had been a month behind he would never have thought to
+explain the why or wherefore to old man Carter. Several years after
+this, when he was scouting for the army, he rode up to a herd over on
+the Chisholm trail and asked one of the tail men: “Son, have you seen
+anything of about three hundred nigger soldiers?” “No,” said the
+cowboy. “Well,” said Baugh, “I’ve lost about that many.”
+
+That night around camp the smoke was curling upward from those cigars
+in clouds. When supper was over and the guards arranged for the night,
+story-telling was in order. This cattle-buyer with us lived in Kansas
+City and gave us several good ones. He told us of an attempted robbery
+of a bank which had occurred a few days before in a western town. As a
+prelude to the tale, he gave us the history of the robbers.
+
+“Cow Springs, Kansas,” said he, “earned the reputation honestly of
+being a hard cow-town. When it became the terminus of one of the many
+eastern trails, it was at its worst. The death-rate amongst its city
+marshals—always due to a six-shooter in the hands of some man who never
+hesitated to use it—made the office not over desirable. The office was
+vacated so frequently in this manner that at last no local man could be
+found who would have it. Then the city fathers sent to Texas for a man
+who had the reputation of being a killer. He kept his record a vivid
+green by shooting first and asking questions afterward.
+
+“Well, the first few months he filled the office of marshal he killed
+two white men and an Indian, and had the people thoroughly buffaloed.
+When the cattle season had ended and winter came on, the little town
+grew tame and listless. There was no man to dare him to shoot, and he
+longed for other worlds to conquer. He had won his way into public
+confidence with his little gun. But this confidence reposed in him was
+misplaced, for he proved his own double both in morals and courage.
+
+“To show you the limit of the confidence he enjoyed: the treasurer of
+the Cherokee Strip Cattle Association paid rent money to that tribe, at
+their capital, fifty thousand dollars quarterly. The capital is not
+located on any railroad; so the funds in currency were taken in
+regularly by the treasurer, and turned over to the tribal authorities.
+This trip was always made with secrecy, and the marshal was taken along
+as a trusted guard. It was an extremely dangerous trip to make, as it
+was through a country infested with robbers and the capital at least a
+hundred miles from the railroad. Strange no one ever attempted to rob
+the stage or private conveyance, though this sum was taken in regularly
+for several years. The average robber was careful of his person, and
+could not be induced to make a target of himself for any money
+consideration, where there was danger of a gun in the hands of a man
+that would shoot rapidly and carelessly.
+
+“Before the herds began to reach as far north, the marshal and his
+deputy gave some excuse and disappeared for a few days, which was quite
+common and caused no comment. One fine morning the good people of the
+town where the robbery was attempted were thrown into an uproar by
+shooting in their bank, just at the opening hour. The robbers were none
+other than our trusted marshal, his deputy, and a cow-puncher who had
+been led into the deal. When they ordered the officials of the bank to
+stand in a row with hands up, they were nonplused at their refusal to
+comply. The attacked party unearthed ugly looking guns and opened fire
+on the hold-ups instead.
+
+“This proved bad policy, for when the smoke cleared away the cashier, a
+very popular man, was found dead, while an assistant was dangerously
+wounded. The shooting, however, had aroused the town to the situation,
+and men were seen running to and fro with guns. This unexpected refusal
+and the consequent shooting spoiled the plans of the robbers, so that
+they abandoned the robbery and ran to their horses.
+
+“After mounting they parleyed with each other a moment and seemed
+bewildered as to which way they should ride, finally riding south
+toward what seemed a broken country. Very few minutes elapsed before
+every man who could find a horse was joining the posse that was forming
+to pursue them. Before they were out of sight the posse had started
+after them. They were well mounted and as determined a set of men as
+were ever called upon to meet a similar emergency. They had the decided
+advantage of the robbers, as their horses were fresh, and the men knew
+every foot of the country.
+
+“The broken country to which the hold-ups headed was a delusion as far
+as safety was concerned. They were never for a moment out of sight of
+the pursuers, and this broken country ended in a deep coulee. When the
+posse saw them enter this they knew that their capture was only a
+matter of time. Nature seemed against the robbers, for as they entered
+the coulee their horses bogged down in a springy rivulet, and they were
+so hard pressed that they hastily dismounted, and sought shelter in
+some shrubbery that grew about. The pursuing party, now swollen to
+quite a number, had spread out and by this time surrounded the men.
+They were seen to take shelter in a clump of wild plum brush, and the
+posse closed in on them. Seeing the numbers against them, they came out
+on demand and surrendered. Neither the posse nor themselves knew at
+this time that the shooting in the bank had killed the cashier. Less
+than an hour’s time had elapsed between the shooting and the capture.
+When the posse reached town on their return, they learned of the death
+of the cashier, and the identity of the prisoners was soon established
+by citizens who knew the marshal and his deputy. The latter admitted
+their identity.
+
+“That afternoon they were photographed, and later in the day were given
+a chance to write to any friends to whom they wished to say good-by.
+The cow-puncher was the only one who availed himself of the
+opportunity. He wrote to his parents. He was the only one of the trio
+who had the nerve to write, and seemed the only one who realized the
+enormity of his crime, and that he would never see the sun of another
+day.
+
+“As darkness settled over the town, the mob assembled. There was no
+demonstration. The men were taken quietly out and hanged. At the final
+moment there was a remarkable variety of nerve shown. The marshal and
+deputy were limp, unable to stand on their feet. With piteous appeals
+and tears they pleaded for mercy, something they themselves had never
+shown their own victims. The boy who had that day written his parents
+his last letter met his fate with Indian stoicism. He cursed the
+crouching figures of his pardners for enticing him into this crime, and
+begged them not to die like curs, but to meet bravely the fate which he
+admitted they all deserved. Several of the men in the mob came forward
+and shook hands with him, and with no appeal to man or his Maker, he
+was swung into the great Unknown at the end of a rope. Such nerve is
+seldom met in life, and those that are supposed to have it, when they
+come face to face with their end, are found lacking that quality. It is
+a common anomaly in life that the bad man with his record often shows
+the white feather when he meets his fate at the hands of an outraged
+community.”
+
+We all took a friendly liking to the cattle-buyer. He was an
+interesting talker. While he was a city man, he mixed with us with a
+certain freedom and abandon that was easy and natural. We all regretted
+it the next day when he and the old man left us.
+
+“I’ve heard my father tell about those Cherokees,” said Port Cole.
+“They used to live in Georgia, those Indians. They must have been
+honest people, for my father told us boys at home, that once in the old
+State while the Cherokees lived there, his father hired one of their
+tribe to guide him over the mountains. There was a pass through the
+mountains that was used and known only to these Indians. It would take
+six weeks to go and come, and to attend to the business in view. My
+father was a small boy at the time, and says that his father hired the
+guide for the entire trip for forty dollars in gold. One condition was
+that the money was to be paid in advance. The morning was set for the
+start, and my grandfather took my father along on the trip.
+
+“Before starting from the Indian’s cabin my grandfather took out his
+purse and paid the Indian four ten-dollar gold pieces. The Indian
+walked over to the corner of the cabin, and in the presence of other
+Indians laid this gold, in plain sight of all, on the end of a log that
+projected where they cross outside, and got on his horse to be gone six
+weeks. They made the trip on time, and my father said his first
+thought, on their return to the Indian village, was to see if the money
+was untouched. It was. You couldn’t risk white folks that way.”
+
+“Oh, I don’t know,” said one of the boys. “Suppose you save your wages
+this summer and try it next year when we start up the trail, just to
+see how it will work.”
+
+“Well, if it’s just the same to you,” replied Port, lighting a fresh
+cigar, “I’ll not try, for I’m well enough satisfied as to how it would
+turn out, without testing it.”
+
+“Isn’t it strange,” said Bat Shaw, “that if you trust a man or put
+confidence in him he won’t betray you. Now, that marshal—one month he
+was guarding money at the risk of his life, and the next was losing his
+life trying to rob some one. I remember a similar case down on the Rio
+Grande. It was during the boom in sheep a few years ago, when every one
+got crazy over sheep.
+
+“A couple of Americans came down on the river to buy sheep. They
+brought their money with them. It was before the time of any railroads.
+The man they deposited their money with had lived amongst these
+Mexicans till he had forgotten where he did belong, though he was a
+Yankee. These sheep-buyers asked their banker to get them a man who
+spoke Spanish and knew the country, as a guide. The banker sent and got
+a man that he could trust. He was a swarthy-looking native whose
+appearance would not recommend him anywhere. He was accepted, and they
+set out to be gone over a month.
+
+“They bought a band of sheep, and it was necessary to pay for them at a
+point some forty miles further up the river. There had been some
+robbing along the river, and these men felt uneasy about carrying the
+money to this place to pay for the sheep. The banker came to the rescue
+by advising them to send the money by the Mexican, who could take it
+through in a single night. No one would ever suspect him of ever having
+a dollar on his person. It looked risky, but the banker who knew the
+nature of the native urged it as the better way, assuring them that the
+Mexican was perfectly trustworthy. The peon was brought in, the
+situation was explained to him, and he was ordered to be in readiness
+at nightfall to start on his errand.
+
+“He carried the money over forty miles that night, and delivered it
+safely in the morning to the proper parties. This act of his aroused
+the admiration of these sheep men beyond a point of safety. They paid
+for the sheep, were gone for a few months, sold out their flocks to
+good advantage, and came back to buy more. This second time they did
+not take the precaution to have the banker hire the man, but did so
+themselves, intending to deposit their money with a different house
+farther up the river. They confided to him that they had quite a sum of
+money with them, and that they would deposit it with the same merchant
+to whom he had carried the money before. The first night they camped
+the Mexican murdered them both, took the money, and crossed into
+Mexico. He hid their bodies, and it was months before they were missed,
+and a year before their bones were found. He had plenty of time to go
+to the ends of the earth before his crime would be discovered.
+
+“Now that Mexican would never think of betraying the banker, his old
+friend and patron, his _muy bueno amigo_. There were obligations that
+he could not think of breaking with the banker; but these fool sheep
+men, supposing it was simple honesty, paid the penalty of their
+confidence with their lives. Now, when he rode over this same road
+alone, a few months before, with over five thousand dollars in money
+belonging to these same men, all he would need to have done was to ride
+across the river. When there were no obligations binding, he was
+willing to add murder to robbery. Some folks say that Mexicans are good
+people; it is the climate, possibly, but they can always be depended on
+to assay high in treachery.”
+
+“What guard are you going to put me on to-night?” inquired old man
+Carter of Baugh.
+
+“This outfit,” said Baugh, in reply, “don’t allow any tenderfoot around
+the cattle,—at night, at least. You’d better play you’re company;
+somebody that’s come. If you’re so very anxious to do something, the
+cook may let you rustle wood or carry water. We’ll fix you up a bed
+after a little, and see that you get into it where you can sleep and be
+harmless.
+
+“Colonel,” added Baugh, “why is it that you never tell that experience
+you had once amongst the greasers?”
+
+“Well, there was nothing funny in it to me,” said Carter, “and they say
+I never tell it twice alike.”
+
+“Why, certainly, tell us,” said the cattle-buyer. “I’ve never heard it.
+Don’t throw off to-night.”
+
+“It was a good many years ago,” began old man George, “but the incident
+is very clear in my mind. I was working for a month’s wages then
+myself. We were driving cattle out of Mexico. The people I was working
+for contracted for a herd down in Chihuahua, about four hundred miles
+south of El Paso. We sent in our own outfit, wagon, horses, and men,
+two weeks before. I was kept behind to take in the funds to pay for the
+cattle. The day before I started, my people drew out of the bank
+twenty-eight thousand dollars, mostly large bills. They wired ahead and
+engaged a rig to take me from the station where I left the railroad to
+the ranch, something like ninety miles.
+
+“I remember I bought a new mole-skin suit, which was very popular about
+then. I had nothing but a small hand-bag, and it contained only a
+six-shooter. I bought a book to read on the train and on the road out,
+called ‘Other People’s Money.’ The title caught my fancy, and it was
+very interesting. It was written by a Frenchman,—full of love and
+thrilling situations. I had the money belted on me securely, and
+started out with flying colors. The railroad runs through a dreary
+country, not worth a second look, so I read my new book. When I arrived
+at the station I found the conveyance awaiting me. The plan was to
+drive halfway, and stay over night at a certain hacienda.
+
+“The driver insisted on starting at once, telling me that we could
+reach the Hacienda Grande by ten o’clock that night, which would be
+half my journey. We had a double-seated buckboard and covered the
+country rapidly. There were two Mexicans on the front seat, while I had
+the rear one all to myself. Once on the road I interested myself in
+‘Other People’s Money,’ almost forgetful of the fact that at that very
+time I had enough of other people’s money on my person to set all the
+bandits in Mexico on my trail. There was nothing of incident that
+evening, until an hour before sundown. We reached a small ranchito,
+where we spent an hour changing horses, had coffee and a rather light
+lunch.
+
+“Before leaving I noticed a Pinto horse hitched to a tree some distance
+in the rear of the house, and as we were expecting to buy a number of
+horses, I walked back and looked this one carefully over. He was very
+peculiarly color-marked in the mane. I inquired for his owner, but they
+told me that he was not about at present. It was growing dusk when we
+started out again. The evening was warm and sultry and threatening
+rain. We had been on our way about an hour when I realized we had left
+the main road and were bumping along on a by-road. I asked the driver
+his reason for this, and he explained that it was a cut-off, and that
+by taking it we would save three miles and half an hour’s time. As a
+further reason he expressed his opinion that we would have rain that
+night, and that he was anxious to reach the hacienda in good time. I
+encouraged him to drive faster, which he did. Within another hour I
+noticed we were going down a dry arroyo, with mesquite brush on both
+sides of the road, which was little better than a trail. My suspicions
+were never aroused sufficiently to open the little hand-bag and belt on
+the six-shooter. I was dreaming along when we came to a sudden stop
+before what seemed a deserted jacal. The Mexicans mumbled something to
+each other over some disappointment, when the driver said to me:—
+
+“‘Here’s where we stay all night. This is the hacienda.’ They both got
+out and insisted on my getting out, but I refused to do so. I reached
+down and picked up my little grip and was in the act of opening it,
+when one of them grabbed my arm and jerked me out of the seat to the
+ground. I realized then for the first time that I was in for it in
+earnest. I never knew before that I could put up such a fine defense,
+for inside a minute I had them both blinded in their own blood. I
+gathered up rocks and had them flying when I heard a clatter of hoofs
+coming down the arroyo like a squadron of cavalry. They were so close
+on to me that I took to the brush, without hat, coat, or pistol. Men
+that pack a gun all their lives never have it when they need it; that
+was exactly my fix. Darkness was in my favor, but I had no more idea
+where I was or which way I was going than a baby. One thing sure, I was
+trying to get away from there as fast as I could. The night was
+terribly dark, and about ten o’clock it began to rain a deluge. I kept
+going all night, but must have been circling.
+
+“Towards morning I came to an arroyo which was running full of water.
+My idea was to get that between me and the scene of my trouble, so I
+took off my boots to wade it. When about one third way across, I either
+stepped off a bluff bank or into a well, for I went under and dropped
+the boots. When I came to the surface I made a few strokes swimming and
+landed in a clump of mesquite brush, to which I clung, got on my feet,
+and waded out to the opposite bank more scared than hurt. Right there I
+lay until daybreak.
+
+“The thing that I remember best now was the peculiar odor of the wet
+mole-skin. If there had been a strolling artist about looking for a
+picture of Despair, I certainly would have filled the bill. The sleeves
+were torn out of my shirt, and my face and arms were scratched and
+bleeding from the thorns of the mesquite. No one who could have seen me
+then would ever have dreamed that I was a walking depositary of ‘Other
+People’s Money.’ When it got good daylight I started out and kept the
+shelter of the brush to hide me. After nearly an hour’s travel, I came
+out on a divide, and about a mile off I saw what looked like a jacal.
+Directly I noticed a smoke arise, and I knew then it was a habitation.
+My appearance was not what I desired, but I approached it.
+
+“In answer to my knock at the door a woman opened it about two inches
+and seemed to be more interested in examination of my anatomy than in
+listening to my troubles. After I had made an earnest sincere talk she
+asked me, ‘No estay loco tu?’ I assured her that I was perfectly sane,
+and that all I needed was food and clothing, for which I would pay her
+well. It must have been my appearance that aroused her sympathy, for
+she admitted me and fed me.
+
+“The woman had a little girl of probably ten years of age. This little
+girl brought me water to wash myself, while the mother prepared me
+something to eat. I was so anxious to pay these people that I found a
+five-dollar gold piece in one of my pockets and gave it to the little
+girl, who in turn gave it to her mother. While I was drinking the
+coffee and eating my breakfast, the woman saw me looking at a picture
+of the Virgin Mary which was hanging on the adobe wall opposite me. She
+asked me if I was a Catholic, which I admitted. Then she brought out a
+shirt and offered it to me.
+
+“Suddenly the barking of a dog attracted her to the door. She returned
+breathless, and said in good Spanish: ‘For God’s sake, run! Fly! Don’t
+let my husband and brother catch you here, for they are coming home.’
+She thrust the shirt into my hand and pointed out the direction in
+which I should go. From a concealed point of the brush I saw two men
+ride up to the jacal and dismount. One of them was riding the Pinto
+horse I had seen the day before.
+
+“I kept the brush for an hour or so, and finally came out on the mesa.
+Here I found a flock of sheep and a pastore. From this shepherd I
+learned that I was about ten miles from the main road. He took the
+sandals from his own feet and fastened them on mine, gave me
+directions, and about night I reached the hacienda, where I was kindly
+received and cared for. This ranchero sent after officers and had the
+country scoured for the robbers. I was detained nearly a week, to see
+if I could identify my drivers, without result. They even brought in
+the owner of the Pinto horse, and no doubt husband of the woman who
+saved my life.
+
+“After a week’s time I joined our own outfit, and I never heard a
+language that sounded so sweet as the English of my own tongue. I would
+have gone back and testified against the owner of the spotted horse if
+it hadn’t been for a woman and a little girl who depended on him,
+robber that he was.”
+
+“Now, girls,” said Baugh, addressing Carter and the stranger, “I’ve
+made you a bed out of the wagon-sheet, and rustled a few blankets from
+the boys. You’ll find the bed under the wagon-tongue, and we’ve
+stretched a fly over it to keep the dew off you, besides adding privacy
+to your apartments. So you can turn in when you run out of stories or
+get sleepy.”
+
+“Haven’t you got one for us?” inquired the cattle-buyer of Baugh. “This
+is no time to throw off, or refuse to be sociable.”
+
+“Well, now, that bank robbery that you were telling the boys about,”
+said Baugh, as he bit the tip from a fresh cigar, “reminds me of a
+hold-up that I was in up in the San Juan mining country in Colorado. We
+had driven into that mining camp a small bunch of beef and had sold
+them to fine advantage. The outfit had gone back, and I remained behind
+to collect for the cattle, expecting to take the stage and overtake the
+outfit down on the river. I had neglected to book my passage in
+advance, so when the stage was ready to start I had to content myself
+with a seat on top. I don’t remember the amount of money I had. It was
+the proceeds of something like one hundred and fifty beeves, in a small
+bag along of some old clothes. There wasn’t a cent of it mine, still I
+was supposed to look after it.
+
+“The driver answered to the name of South-Paw, drove six horses, and we
+had a jolly crowd on top. Near midnight we were swinging along, and as
+we rounded a turn in the road, we noticed a flickering light ahead some
+distance which looked like the embers of a camp-fire. As we came nearly
+opposite the light, the leaders shied at some object in the road in
+front of them. South-Paw uncurled his whip, and was in the act of
+pouring the leather into them, when that light was uncovered as big as
+the head-light of an engine. An empty five-gallon oil-can had been cut
+in half and used as a reflector, throwing full light into the road
+sufficient to cover the entire coach. Then came a round of orders which
+meant business. ‘Shoot them leaders if they cross that obstruction!’
+‘Kill any one that gets off on the opposite side!’ ‘Driver, move up a
+few feet farther!’ ‘A few feet farther, please.’ ‘That’ll do; thank
+you, sir.’ ‘Now, every son-of-a-horse-thief, get out on this side of
+the coach, please, and be quick about it!’
+
+“The man giving these orders stood a few feet behind the lamp and out
+of sight, but the muzzle of a Winchester was plainly visible and seemed
+to cover every man on the stage. It is needless to say that we obeyed,
+got down in the full glare of the light, and lined up with our backs to
+the robber, hands in the air. There was a heavily veiled woman on the
+stage, whom he begged to hold the light for him, assuring her that he
+never robbed a woman. This veiled person disappeared at the time, and
+was supposed to have been a confederate. When the light was held for
+him, he drew a black cap over each one of us, searching everybody for
+weapons. Then he proceeded to rob us, and at last went through the
+mail. It took him over an hour to do the job; he seemed in no hurry.
+
+“It was not known what he got out of the mail, but the passengers
+yielded about nine hundred revenue to him, while there was three times
+that amount on top the coach in my grip, wrapped in a dirty flannel
+shirt. When he disappeared we were the cheapest lot of men imaginable.
+It was amusing to hear the excuses, threats, and the like; but the fact
+remained the same, that a dozen of us had been robbed by a lone
+highwayman. I felt good over it, as the money in the grip had been
+overlooked.
+
+“Well, we cleared out the obstruction in the road, and got aboard the
+coach once more. About four o’clock in the morning we arrived at our
+destination, only two hours late. In the hotel office where the stage
+stopped was the very man who had robbed us. He had got in an hour ahead
+of us, and was a very much interested listener to the incident as
+retold. There was an early train out of town that morning, and at a
+place where they stopped for breakfast he sat at the table with several
+drummers who were in the hold-up, a most attentive listener.
+
+“He was captured the same day. He had hired a horse out of a livery
+stable the day before, to ride out to look at a ranch he thought of
+buying. The liveryman noticed that he limped slightly. He had collided
+with lead in Texas, as was learned afterward. The horse which had been
+hired to the ranch-buyer of the day before was returned to the corral
+of the livery barn at an unknown hour during the night, and suspicion
+settled on the lame man. When he got off the train at Pueblo, he walked
+into the arms of officers. The limp had marked him clearly.
+
+“In a grip which he carried were a number of sacks, which he supposed
+contained gold dust, but held only taulk on its way to assayers in
+Denver. These he had gotten out of the express the night before,
+supposing they were valuable. We were all detained as witnesses. He was
+tried for robbing the mails, and was the coolest man in the court room.
+He was a tall, awkward-looking fellow, light complexioned, with a mild
+blue eye. His voice, when not disguised, would mark him amongst a
+thousand men. It was peculiarly mild and soft, and would lure a babe
+from its mother’s arms.
+
+“At the trial he never tried to hide his past, and you couldn’t help
+liking the fellow for his frank answers.
+
+“‘Were you ever charged with any crime before?’ asked the prosecution.
+‘If so, when and where?’
+
+“‘Yes,’ said the prisoner, ‘in Texas, for robbing the mails in ’77.’
+
+“‘What was the result?’ continued the prosecution.
+
+“‘They sent me over the road for ninety-nine years.’
+
+“‘Then how does it come that you are at liberty?’ quizzed the attorney.
+
+“‘Well, you see the President of the United States at that time was a
+warm personal friend of mine, though we had drifted apart somewhat.
+When he learned that the Federal authorities had interfered with my
+liberties, he pardoned me out instantly.’
+
+“‘What did you do then?’ asked the attorney.
+
+“‘Well, I went back to Texas, and was attending to my own business,
+when I got into a little trouble and had to kill a man. Lawyers down
+there won’t do anything for you without you have money, and as I didn’t
+have any for them, I came up to this country to try and make an honest
+dollar.’
+
+“He went over the road a second time, and wasn’t in the Federal prison
+a year before he was released through influence. Prison walls were
+never made to hold as cool a rascal as he was. Have you a match?”
+
+
+It was an ideal night. Millions of stars flecked the sky overhead. No
+one seemed willing to sleep. We had heard the evening gun and the
+trumpets sounding tattoo over at the fort, but their warnings of the
+closing day were not for us. The guards changed, the cattle sleeping
+like babes in a trundle-bed. Finally one by one the boys sought their
+blankets, while sleep and night wrapped these children of the plains in
+her arms.
+
+
+
+
+II
+SEIGERMAN’S PER CENT
+
+
+Towards the wind-up of the Cherokee Strip Cattle Association it became
+hard to ride a chuck-line in winter. Some of the cattle companies on
+the range, whose headquarters were far removed from the scene of active
+operations, saw fit to give orders that the common custom of feeding
+all comers and letting them wear their own welcome out must be stopped.
+This was hard on those that kept open house the year round. There was
+always a surplus of men on the range in the winter. Sometimes there
+might be ten men at a camp, and only two on the pay-roll. These extra
+men were called “chuck-line riders.” Probably eight months in the year
+they all had employment. At many camps they were welcome, as they would
+turn to and help do anything that was wanted done.
+
+After a hard freeze it would be necessary to cut the ice, so that the
+cattle could water. A reasonable number of guests were no drawback at a
+time like this, as the chuck-line men would be the most active in
+opening the ice with axes. The cattle belonging to those who kept open
+house never got so far away that some one didn’t recognize the brand
+and turn them back towards their own pasture. It was possible to cast
+bread upon the waters, even on the range.
+
+The new order of things was received with many protests. Late in the
+fall three worthies of the range formed a combine, and laid careful
+plans of action, in case they should get let out of a winter’s job.
+“I’ve been on the range a good while,” said Baugh, the leader of this
+trio, “but hereafter I’ll not ride my horses down, turning back the
+brand of any hidebound cattle company.”
+
+“That won’t save you from getting hit with a cheque for your time when
+the snow begins to drift,” commented Stubb.
+
+“When we make our grand tour of the State this winter,” remarked Arab
+Ab, “we’ll get that cheque of Baugh’s cashed, together with our own.
+One thing sure, we won’t fret about it; still we might think that
+riding a chuck-line would beat footing it in a granger country, broke.”
+
+“Oh, we won’t go broke,” said Baugh, who was the leader in the idea
+that they would go to Kansas for the winter, and come back in the
+spring when men are wanted.
+
+So when the beef season had ended, the calves had all been branded up
+and everything made snug for the winter, the foreman said to the boys
+at breakfast one morning, “Well, lads, I’ve kept you on the pay-roll as
+long as there has been anything to do, but this morning I’ll have to
+give you your time. These recent orders of mine are sweeping, for they
+cut me down to one man, and we are to do our own cooking. I’m sorry
+that any of you that care to can’t spend the winter with us. It’s there
+that my orders are very distasteful to me, for I know what it is to
+ride a chuck-line myself. You all know that it’s no waste of affection
+by this company that keeps even two of us on the pay-roll.”
+
+While the foreman was looking up accounts and making out the time of
+each, Baugh asked him, “When is the wagon going in after the winter’s
+supplies?”
+
+“In a day or two,” answered the foreman. “Why?”
+
+“Why, Stubby, Arab, and myself want to leave our saddles and private
+horses here with you until spring. We’re going up in the State for the
+winter, and will wait and go in with the wagon.”
+
+“That will be all right,” said the foreman. “You’ll find things right
+side up when you come after them, and a job if I can give it to you.”
+
+“Don’t you think it’s poor policy,” asked Stubb of the foreman, as the
+latter handed him his time, “to refuse the men a roof and the bite they
+eat in winter?”
+
+“You may ask that question at headquarters, when you get your time
+cheque cashed. I’ve learned not to think contrary to my employers; not
+in the mouth of winter, anyhow.”
+
+“Oh, we don’t care,” said Baugh; “we’re going to take in the State for
+a change of scenery. We’ll have a good time and plenty of fun on the
+side.”
+
+The first snow-squall of the season came that night, and the wagon
+could not go in for several days. When the weather moderated the three
+bade the foreman a hearty good-by and boarded the wagon for town, forty
+miles away. This little village was a supply point for the range
+country to the south, and lacked that diversity of entertainment that
+the trio desired. So to a larger town westward, a county seat, they
+hastened by rail. This hamlet they took in by sections. There were the
+games running to suit their tastes, the variety theatre with its
+painted girls, and handbills announced that on the 24th of December and
+Christmas Day there would be horse races. To do justice to all this
+melted their money fast.
+
+Their gay round of pleasure had no check until the last day of the
+races. Heretofore they had held their own in the games, and the first
+day of the races they had even picked several winners. But grief was in
+store for Baugh the leader, Baugh the brains of the trio. He had named
+the winners so easily the day before, that now his confidence knew no
+bounds. His opinion was supreme on a running horse, though he cautioned
+the others not to risk their judgment—in fact, they had better follow
+him. “I’m going to back that sorrel gelding, that won yesterday in the
+free-for-all to-day,” said he to Stubb and Arab, “and if you boys go in
+with me, we’ll make a killing.”
+
+“You can lose your money on a horse race too quick to suit me,” replied
+Stubb. “I prefer to stick to poker; but you go ahead and win all you
+can, for spring is a long ways off yet.”
+
+“My observation of you as a poker player, my dear Stubby, is that you
+generally play the first hand to win and all the rest to get even.”
+
+They used up considerable time scoring for the free-for-all running
+race Christmas Day, during which delay Baugh not only got all his money
+bet, but his watch and a new overcoat. The race went off with the usual
+dash, when there were no more bets in sight; and when it ended Baugh
+buttoned up the top button of his coat, pulled his hat down over his
+eyes, and walked back from the race track in a meditative state of
+mind, to meet Stubb and Arab Ab.
+
+“When I gamble and lose I never howl,” said Baugh to his friends, “but
+I do love a run for my money, though I didn’t have any more chance
+to-day than a rabbit. I’ll take my hat off to the man that got it,
+however, and charge it up to my tuition account.”
+
+“You big chump, you! if you hadn’t bet your overcoat it wouldn’t be so
+bad. What possessed you to bet it?” asked Stubb, half reprovingly.
+
+“Oh, hell, I’ll not need it. It’s not going to be a very cold winter,
+nohow,” replied Baugh, as he threw up one eye toward the warm sun. “We
+need exercise. Let’s walk back to town. Now, this is a little
+unexpected, but what have I got you boy’s for, if you can’t help a
+friend in trouble. There’s one good thing—I’ve got my board paid three
+weeks in advance; paid it this morning out of yesterday’s winnings.
+Lucky, ain’t I?”
+
+“Yes, you’re powerful lucky. You’re alive, ain’t you?” said Stubb,
+rubbing salt into his wounds.
+
+“Now, my dear Stubby, don’t get gay with the leading lady; you may get
+in a bad box some day and need me.”
+
+This turn of affairs was looked upon by Stubb and Arab as quite a joke
+on their leader. But it was no warning to them, and they continued to
+play their favorite games, Stubb at poker, while Arab gave his
+attention to monte. Things ran along for a few weeks in this manner,
+Baugh never wanting for a dollar or the necessary liquids that cheer
+the despondent. Finally they were forced to take an inventory of their
+cash and similar assets. The result was suggestive that they would have
+to return to the chuck-line, or unearth some other resource. The
+condition of their finances lacked little of the red-ink line.
+
+Baugh, who had been silent during this pow-wow, finally said, “My board
+will have to be provided for in a few days, but I have an idea, struck
+it to-day, and if she works, we’ll pull through to grass like four time
+winners.”
+
+“What is it?” asked the other two, in a chorus.
+
+“There’s a little German on a back street here, who owns a bar-room
+with a hotel attached. He has a mania to run for office; in fact,
+there’s several candidates announced already. Now, the convention don’t
+meet until May, which is in our favor. If my game succeeds, we will be
+back at work before that time. That will let us out easy.”
+
+As their finances were on a parity with Baugh’s, the others were
+willing to undertake anything that looked likely to tide them over the
+winter. “Leave things to me,” said Baugh. “I’ll send a friend around to
+sound our German, and see what office he thinks he’d like to have.”
+
+The information sought developed the fact that it was the office of
+sheriff that he wanted. When the name was furnished, the leader of this
+scheme wrote it on a card—Seigerman, Louie Seigerman,—not trusting to
+memory. Baugh now reduced their finances further for a shave, while he
+meditated how he would launch his scheme. An hour afterwards, he walked
+up to the bar, and asked, “Is Mr. Seigerman in?”
+
+“Dot ish my name, sir,” said the man behind the bar.
+
+“Could I see you privately for a few minutes?” asked Baugh, who himself
+could speak German, though his tongue did not indicate it.
+
+“In von moment,” said Seigerman, as he laid off his white apron and
+called an assistant to take his place. He then led the way to a back
+room, used for a storehouse. “Now, mine frendt, vat ish id?” inquired
+Louie, when they were alone.
+
+“My name is Baughman,” said he, as he shook Louie’s hand with a hearty
+grip. “I work for the Continental Cattle Company, who own a range in
+the strip adjoining the county line below here. My people have suffered
+in silence from several bands of cattle thieves who have headquarters
+in this county. Heretofore we have never taken any interest in the
+local politics of this community. But this year we propose to assert
+ourselves, and try to elect a sheriff who will do his sworn duty, and
+run out of this county these rustling cattle thieves. Mr. Seigerman, it
+would surprise you did I give you the figures in round numbers of the
+cattle that my company have lost by these brand-burning rascals who
+infest this section.
+
+“Now to business, as you are a business man. I have come to ask you to
+consent to your name being presented to the county convention, which
+meets in May, as a candidate for the office of sheriff of this county.”
+
+As Louie scratched his head and was meditating on his reply, Baughman
+continued: “Now, we know that you are a busy man, and have given this
+matter no previous thought, so we do not insist on an immediate reply.
+But think it over, and let me impress on your mind that if you consent
+to make the race, you will have the support of every cattle-man in the
+country. Not only their influence and support, but in a selfish
+interest will their purses be at your command to help elect you. This
+request of mine is not only the mature conclusion of my people, but we
+have consulted others interested, and the opinion seems unanimous that
+you are the man to make the race for this important office.”
+
+“Mr. Baughman, vill you not haf one drink mit me?” said Seigerman, as
+he led the way towards the bar.
+
+“If you will kindly excuse me, Mr. Seigerman, I never like to indulge
+while attending to business matters. I’ll join you in a cigar, however,
+for acquaintance’ sake.”
+
+When the cigars were lighted Baugh observed, “Why, do you keep hotel?
+If I had known it, I would have put up with you, but my bill is paid in
+advance at my hotel until Saturday. If you can give me a good room by
+then, I’ll come up and stop with you.”
+
+“You can haf any room in mine house, Mr. Baughman,” said Seigerman.
+
+As Baugh was about to leave he once more impressed on Louie the nature
+of his call. “Now, Mr. Seigerman,” said Baughman, using the German
+language during the parting conversation, “let me have your answer at
+the earliest possible moment, for we want to begin an active canvass at
+once. This is a large county, and to enlist our friends in your behalf
+no time should be lost.” With a profusion of “Leben Sie wohls” and well
+wishes for each other, the “Zweibund” parted.
+
+Stubb and Arab were waiting on a corner for Baugh. When he returned he
+withheld his report until they had retreated to the privacy of their
+own room. Once secure, he said to both: “If you would like to know what
+an active, resourceful brain is, put your ear to my head,” tapping his
+temple with his finger, “and listen to mine throb and purr. Everything
+is working like silk. I’m going around to board with him Saturday. I
+want you to go over with me to-morrow, Stubby, and give him a big game
+about what a general uprising there is amongst the cowmen for an
+efficient man for the office of sheriff, and make it strong. I gave him
+my last whirl to-day in German. Oh, he’ll run all right; and we want to
+convey the impression that we can rally the cattle interests to his
+support. Put up a good grievance, mind you! You can both know that I
+begged strong when I took this cigar in preference to a drink.”
+
+“It’s certainly a bad state of affairs we’ve come to when you refuse
+whiskey. Don’t you think so, Stubby?” said Arab, addressing the one and
+appealing to the other. “You never refused no drink, Baugh, you know
+you didn’t,” said Stubb reproachfully.
+
+“Oh, you little sawed-off burnt-offering, you can’t see the policy that
+we must use in handling this matter. This is a delicate play, that
+can’t be managed roughshod on horseback. It has food, shelter, and
+drink in it for us all, but they must be kept in the background. The
+main play now is to convince Mr. Seigerman that he has a call to serve
+his country in the office of sheriff. Bear down heavy on the emergency
+clause. Then make him think that no other name but Louie Seigerman will
+satisfy the public clamor. Now, my dear Stubby, I know that you are a
+gifted and accomplished liar, and for that reason I insist that you
+work your brain and tongue in this matter. Keep your own motive in the
+background and bring his to the front. That’s the idea. Now, can you
+play your part?”
+
+“Well, as I have until to-morrow to think it over, I’ll try,” said
+Stubb.
+
+The next afternoon Baugh and Stubb sauntered into Louie’s place, and
+received a very cordial welcome at the hands of the proprietor. Baugh
+introduced Stubb as a friend of his whom he had met in town that day,
+and who, being also interested in cattle, he thought might be able to
+offer some practical suggestions. Their polite refusal to indulge in a
+social glass with the proprietor almost hurt his feelings.
+
+“Let us retire to the rear room for a few moments of conversation, if
+you have the leisure,” said Baugh.
+
+Once secure in the back room, Stubb opened his talk. “As my friend Mr.
+Baughman has said, I’m local manager of the Ohio Cattle Company
+operating in the Strip. I’m spending considerable time in your town at
+present, as I’m overseeing the wintering of something like a hundred
+saddle horses and two hundred and fifty of our thoroughbred bulls. We
+worked our saddle stock so late last fall, that on my advice the
+superintendent sent them into the State to be corn-fed for the winter.
+The bulls were too valuable to be risked on the range. We had over
+fifty stolen last season, that cost us over three hundred dollars a
+head. I had a letter this morning from our superintendent, asking me to
+unite with what seems to be a general movement to suppress this
+high-handed stealing that has run riot in this county in the past. Mr.
+Baughman has probably acquainted you with the general sentiment in
+cattle circles regarding what should be done. I wish to assure you
+further that my people stand ready to use their best endeavors to
+nominate a candidate who will pledge himself to stamp out this
+disgraceful brand-burning and cattle-rustling. The little protection
+shown the livestock interests in this western country has actually
+driven capital out of one of the best paying industries in the West.
+But it is our own fault. We take no interest in local politics. Any one
+is good enough for sheriff with us. But this year there seems to be an
+awakening. It may be a selfish interest that prompts this uprising; I
+think it is. But that is the surest hope in politics for us. The
+cattle-men’s pockets have been touched, their interests have been
+endangered. Mr. Seigerman, I feel confident that if you will enter the
+race for this office, it will be a walk-away for you. Now consider the
+matter fully, and I might add that there is a brighter future for you
+politically than you possibly can see. I wish I had brought our
+superintendent’s letter with me for you to read.
+
+“He openly hints that if we elect a sheriff in this county this fall
+who makes an efficient officer, he will be strictly in line for the
+office of United States Marshal of western Kansas and all the Indian
+Territory. You see, Mr. Seigerman, in our company we have as
+stock-holders three congressmen and one United States senator. I have
+seen it in the papers myself, and it is a common remark Down East, so
+I’m told, that the weather is chilly when an Ohio man gets left. Now
+with these men of our company interested in you, there would be no
+refusing them the appointment. Why, it would give you the naming of
+fifty deputies—good easy money in every one of them. You could sit back
+in a well-appointed government office and enjoy the comforts of life.
+Now, Mr. Seigerman, we will see you often, but let me suggest that your
+acceptance be as soon as possible, for if you positively decline to
+enter the race, we must look in some other quarter for an available
+man.” Leaving these remarks for Seigerman’s reflections, he walked out
+of the room.
+
+As Seigerman started to follow, Baugh tapped him on the shoulder to
+wait, as he had something to say to him. Baugh now confirmed everything
+said, using the German language. He added, “Now, my friend Stubb is too
+modest to admit who his people really are, but the Ohio Cattle Company
+is practically the Standard Oil Company, but they don’t want it known.
+It’s a confidence that I’m placing in you, and request you not to
+repeat it. Still, you know what a syndicate they are and the influence
+they carry. That very little man who has been talking to you has better
+backing than any cow-boss in the West. He’s a safe, conservative fellow
+to listen to.”
+
+When they had rejoined Stubb in the bar-room, Baugh said to Seigerman,
+“Don’t you think you can give us your answer by Friday next, so your
+name can be announced in the papers, and an active canvass begun
+without further loss of time?”
+
+“Shentlemens, I’ll dry do,” said Louie, “but you will not dake a drink
+mit me once again, aind it?”
+
+“No, thank you, Mr. Seigerman,” replied Stubb.
+
+“He gave me a very fine cigar yesterday; you’ll like them if you try
+one,” said Baugh to Stubb. “Let it be a cigar to-day, Mr. Seigerman.”
+
+As Baugh struck a match to light his cigar, he said to Stubb, “I’m
+coming up to stop with Mr. Seigerman to-morrow. Why don’t you join us?”
+
+“I vould be wery much bleased to haf you mine guest,” said Louie, every
+inch the host.
+
+“This is a very home-like looking place,” remarked Stubb. “I may come
+up; I’ll come around Sunday and take dinner with you, anyhow.”
+
+“Do, blease,” urged Louie.
+
+There was a great deal to be said, and it required two languages to
+express it all, but finally the “Dreibund” parted. The next day Baugh
+moved into his new quarters, and the day following Stubb was so pleased
+with his Sunday dinner that he changed at once.
+
+“I’m expecting a man from Kansas City to-morrow,” said Baugh to Louie
+on Sunday morning, “who will know the sentiment existing in cattle
+circles in that city. He’ll be in on the morning train.”
+
+Stubb, in the mean time, had coached Arab as to what he should say. As
+Baugh and he had covered the same ground, it was thought best to have
+Arab Ab the heeler, the man who could deliver the vote to order.
+
+So Monday morning after the train was in, the original trio entered,
+and Arab was introduced. The back room was once more used as a council
+chamber where the “Fierbund” held an important session.
+
+“I didn’t think there was so much interest being taken,” began Arab Ab,
+“until my attention was called to it yesterday by the president and
+secretary of our company in Kansas City. I want to tell you that the
+cattle interests in that city are aroused. Why, our secretary showed me
+the figures from his books; and in the ‘Tin Cup’ brand alone we shipped
+out three hundred and twelve beeves short, out of twenty-nine hundred
+and ninety-six bought two years ago. My employers, Mr. Seigerman, are
+practical cowmen, and they know that those steers never left the range
+without help. Nothing but lead or Texas fever can kill a beef. We
+haven’t had a case of fever on our range for years, nor a winter in
+five years that would kill an old cow. Why, our president told me if
+something wasn’t done they would have to abandon this country and go
+where they could get protection. His final orders were to do what I
+could to get an eligible man as a candidate, which, I’m glad to hear
+from my friends here, we have hopes of doing. Then when the election
+comes off, we must drop everything and get every man to claim a
+residence in this county and vote him here. I’ll admit that I’m no good
+as a wire-puller, but when it comes to getting out the voters, there’s
+where you will find me as solid as a bridge abutment.
+
+“Why, Mr. Seigerman, when I was skinning mules for Creech & Lee,
+contractors on the Rock Island, one fall, they gave me my orders, which
+was to get every man on the works ready to ballot. I lined them up and
+voted them like running cattle through a branding-chute to put on a
+tally-mark or vent a brand. There were a hundred and seventy-five of
+those dagoes from the rock-cut; I handled them like dipping sheep for
+the scab. My friends here can tell you how I managed voting the bonds
+at a little town east of here. I had my orders from the same people I’m
+working for now, to get out the cow-puncher element in the Strip for
+the bonds. The bosses simply told me that what they wanted was a
+competing line of railroad. And as they didn’t expect to pay the
+obligations, only authorize them,—the next generation could attend to
+the paying of them,—we got out a full vote. Well, we ran in from four
+to five hundred men from the Strip, and out of over seven hundred
+ballots cast, only one against the bonds. We hunted the town all over
+to find the man that voted against us; we wanted to hang him! The only
+trouble I had was to make the boys think it was a straight up
+Democratic play, as they were nearly all originally from Texas. Now, my
+friends here have told me that they are urging you to accept the
+nomination for sheriff. I can only add that in case you consent, my
+people stand ready to give their every energy to this coming campaign.
+As far as funds are concerned to prosecute the election of an
+acceptable sheriff to the cattle interests, we would simply be flooded
+with it. It would be impossible to use one half of what would be forced
+on us. One thing I can say positively, Mr. Seigerman: they wouldn’t
+permit you to contribute one cent to the expense of your election.
+Cattle-men are big-hearted fellows—they are friends worth having, Mr.
+Seigerman.”
+
+Louie drew a long breath, and it seemed that a load had been lifted
+from his mind by these last remarks of Arab’s.
+
+“How many men are there in the Strip?” asked Arab of the others.
+
+“On all three divisions of the last round-up there were something like
+two thousand,” replied Baugh. “And this county adjoins the Cattle
+Country for sixty miles on the north,” said Arab, still continuing his
+musing, “or one third of the Strip. Well, gentlemen,” he went on,
+waking out of his mental reverie and striking the table with his fist,
+“if there’s that many men in the country below, I’ll agree to vote one
+half of them in this county this fall.”
+
+“Hold on a minute, aren’t you a trifle high on your estimate?” asked
+Stubb, the conservative, protestingly.
+
+“Not a man too high. Give them a week’s lay-off, with plenty to drink
+at this end of the string, and every man will come in for fifty miles
+either way. The time we voted the bonds won’t be a marker to this
+election.”
+
+“He’s not far wrong,” said Baugh to Stubb. “Give the rascals a chance
+for a holiday like that, and they will come from the south line of the
+Strip.”
+
+“That’s right, Mr. Seigerman,” said Arab. “They’ll come from the west
+and south to a man, and as far east as the middle of the next county. I
+tell you they will be a thousand strong and a unit in voting. Watch my
+smoke on results!”
+
+“Well,” said Stubb, slowly and deliberately, “I think it’s high time we
+had Mr. Seigerman’s consent to make the race. This counting of our
+forces and the sinews of war is good enough in advance; but I must
+insist on an answer from Mr. Seigerman. Will you become our candidate?”
+
+“Shentlemens, how can I refuse to be one sheriff? The cattle-mens must
+be protec. I accep.”
+
+The trio now arose, and with a round of oaths that would have made the
+captain of a pirate ship green with envy swore Seigerman had taken a
+step he would never regret. After the hearty congratulation on his
+acceptance, they reseated themselves, when Louie, in his gratitude,
+insisted that on pleasant occasions like this he should be permitted to
+offer some refreshments of a liquid nature.
+
+“I never like to indulge at a bar,” said Stubb. “The people whom I work
+for are very particular regarding the habits of their trusted men.”
+
+“It might be permissible on occasions like this to break certain
+established rules,” suggested Baugh, “besides, Mr. Seigerman can bring
+it in here, where we will be unobserved.”
+
+“Very well, then,” said Stubb, “I waive my objections for sociability’s
+sake.”
+
+When Louie had retired for this purpose, Baugh arose to his full
+dignity and six foot three, and said to the other two, bowing, “Your
+uncle, my dears, will never allow you to come to want. Pin your faith
+to the old man. Why, we’ll wallow in the fat of the land until the
+grass comes again, gentle Annie. Gentlemen, if you are gentlemen, which
+I doubt like hell, salute the victor!” The refreshment was brought in,
+and before the session adjourned, they had lowered the contents of a
+black bottle of private stock by several fingers.
+
+The announcement of the candidacy of Mr. Louis Seigerman in the next
+week’s paper (by aid of the accompanying fiver which went with the
+“copy”) encouraged the editor, that others might follow, to write a
+short, favorable editorial. The article spoke of Mr. Seigerman as a
+leading citizen, who would fill the office with credit to himself and
+the community. The trio read this short editorial to Louie daily for
+the first week. All three were now putting their feet under the table
+with great regularity, and doing justice to the vintage on invitation.
+The back room became a private office for the central committee of
+four. They were able political managers. The campaign was beginning to
+be active, but no adverse reports were allowed to reach the candidate’s
+ears. He actually had no opposition, so the reports came in to the
+central committee.
+
+It was even necessary to send out Arab Ab to points on the railroad to
+get the sentiments of this and that community, which were always
+favorable. Funds for these trips were forced on them by the candidate.
+The thought of presenting a board bill to such devoted friends never
+entered mine host’s mind. Thus several months passed.
+
+The warm sun and green blades of grass suggested springtime. The boys
+had played the rôle as long as they cared to. It had served the purpose
+that was intended. But they must not hurt the feelings of Seigerman, or
+let the cause of their zeal become known to their benefactor and
+candidate for sheriff. One day report came in of some defection and a
+rival candidate in the eastern part of the county. All hands
+volunteered to go out. Funds were furnished, which the central
+committee assured their host would be refunded whenever they could get
+in touch with headquarters, or could see some prominent cowman.
+
+At the end of a week Mr. Seigerman received a letter. The excuses
+offered at the rich man’s feast were discounted by pressing orders. One
+had gone to Texas to receive a herd of cattle, instead of a few oxen,
+one had been summoned to Kansas City, one to Ohio. The letter concluded
+with the assurance that Mr. Seigerman need have no fear but that he
+would be the next sheriff.
+
+The same night that the letter was received by mine host, this tale was
+retold at a cow-camp in the Strip by the trio. The hard winter was
+over.
+
+At the county convention in May, Seigerman’s name was presented. On
+each of three ballots he received one lone vote. When the news reached
+the boys in the Strip, they dubbed this one vote “Seigerman’s Per
+Cent,” meaning the worst of anything, and that expression became a
+byword on the range, from Brownsville, Texas, to the Milk River in
+Montana.
+
+
+
+
+III
+“BAD MEDICINE”
+
+
+The evening before the Cherokee Strip was thrown open for settlement, a
+number of old timers met in the little town of Hennessey, Oklahoma.
+
+On the next day the Strip would pass from us and our employers, the
+cowmen. Some of the boys had spent from five to fifteen years on this
+range. But we realized that we had come to the parting of the ways.
+
+This was not the first time that the government had taken a hand in
+cattle matters. Some of us in former days had moved cattle at the
+command of negro soldiers, with wintry winds howling an accompaniment.
+
+The cowman was never a government favorite. If the Indian wards of the
+nation had a few million acres of idle land, “Let it lie idle,” said
+the guardian. Some of these civilized tribes maintained a fine system
+of public schools from the rental of unoccupied lands. Nations, like
+men, revive the fable of the dog and the ox. But the guardian was
+supreme—the cowman went. This was not unexpected to most of us. Still,
+this country was a home to us. It mattered little if our names were on
+the pay-roll or not, it clothed and fed us.
+
+We were seated around a table in the rear of a saloon talking of the
+morrow. The place was run by a former cowboy. It therefore became a
+rendezvous for the craft. Most of us had made up our minds to quit
+cattle for good and take claims.
+
+“Before I take a claim,” said Tom Roll, “I’ll go to Minnesota and peon
+myself to some Swede farmer for my keep the balance of my life. Making
+hay and plowing fire guards the last few years have given me all the
+taste of farming that I want. I’m going to Montana in the spring.”
+
+“Why don’t you go this winter? Is your underwear too light?” asked Ace
+Gee. “Now, I’m going to make a farewell play,” continued Ace. “I’m
+going to take a claim, and before I file on it, sell my rights, go back
+to old Van Zandt County, Texas, this winter, rear up my feet, and tell
+it to them scarey. That’s where all my folks live.”
+
+“Well, for a winter’s stake,” chimed in Joe Box, “Ace’s scheme is all
+right. We can get five hundred dollars out of a claim for simply
+staking it, and we know some good ones. That sized roll ought to winter
+a man with modest tastes.”
+
+“You didn’t know that I just came from Montana, did you, Tom?” asked
+Ace. “I can tell you more about that country than you want to know.
+I’ve been up the trail this year; delivered our cattle on the
+Yellowstone, where the outfit I worked for has a northern range. When I
+remember this summer’s work, I sometimes think that I will burn my
+saddle and never turn or look a cow in the face again, nor ride
+anything but a plow mule and that bareback.
+
+“The people I was working for have a range in Tom Green County, Texas,
+and another one in Montana. They send their young steers north to
+mature—good idea, too!—but they are not cowmen like the ones we know.
+They made their money in the East in a patent medicine—got scads of it,
+too. But that’s no argument that they know anything about a cow. They
+have a board of directors—it is one of those cattle companies. Looks
+like they started in the cattle business to give their income a healthy
+outlet from the medicine branch. They operate on similar principles as
+those soap factory people did here in the Strip a few years ago. About
+the time they learn the business they go broke and retire.
+
+“Our boss this summer was some relation to the wife of some of the
+medicine people Down East. As they had no use for him back there, they
+sent him out to the ranch, where he would be useful.
+
+“We started north with the grass. Had thirty-three hundred head of twos
+and threes, with a fair string of saddle stock. They run the same brand
+on both ranges—the broken arrow. You never saw a cow-boss have so much
+trouble; a married woman wasn’t a circumstance to him, fretting and
+sweating continually. This was his first trip over the trail, but the
+boys were a big improvement on the boss, as we had a good outfit of men
+along. My idea of a good cow-boss is a man that doesn’t boss any; just
+hires a first-class outfit of men, and then there is no bossing to do.
+
+“We had to keep well to the west getting out of Texas; kept to the west
+of Buffalo Gap. From there to Tepee City is a dry, barren country. To
+get water for a herd the size of ours was some trouble. This new
+medicine man got badly worried several times. He used his draft book
+freely, buying water for the cattle while crossing this stretch of
+desert; the natives all through there considered him the softest snap
+they had met in years. Several times we were without water for the
+stock two whole days. That makes cattle hard to hold at night. They
+want to get up and prowl—it makes them feverish, and then’s when they
+are ripe for a stampede. We had several bobles crossing that strip of
+country; nothing bad, just jump and run a mile or so, and then mill
+until daylight. Then our boss would get great action on himself and
+ride a horse until the animal would give out—sick, he called it. After
+the first little run we had, it took him half the next day to count
+them; then he couldn’t believe his own figures.
+
+“A Val Verde County lad who counted with him said they were all
+right—not a hoof shy. But the medicine man’s opinion was the reverse.
+At this the Val Verde boy got on the prod slightly, and expressed
+himself, saying, ‘Why don’t you have two of the other boys count them?
+You can’t come within a hundred of me, or yourself either, for that
+matter. I can pick out two men, and if they differ five head, it’ll be
+a surprise to me. The way the boys have brought the cattle by us, any
+man that can’t count this herd and not have his own figures differ more
+than a hundred had better quit riding, get himself some sandals, and a
+job herding sheep. Let me give you this pointer: if you are not anxious
+to have last night’s fun over again, you’d better quit counting and get
+this herd full of grass and water before night, or you will be cattle
+shy as sure as hell’s hot.’
+
+“‘When I ask you for an opinion,’ answered the foreman, somewhat
+indignant, ‘such remarks will be in order. Until then you may keep your
+remarks to yourself.’
+
+“‘That will suit me all right, old sport,’ retorted Val Verde; ‘and
+when you want any one to help you count your fat cattle, get some of
+the other boys—one that’ll let you doubt his count as you have mine,
+and if he admires you for it, cut my wages in two.’
+
+“After the two had been sparring with each other some little time,
+another of the boys ventured the advice that it would be easy to count
+the animals as they came out of the water; so the order went forward to
+let them hit the trail for the first water. We made a fine stream,
+watering early in the afternoon. As they grazed out from the creek we
+fed them through between two of the boys. The count showed no cattle
+short. In fact, the Val Verde boy’s count was confirmed. It was then
+that our medicine man played his cards wrong. He still insisted that we
+were cattle out, thus queering himself with his men. He was gradually
+getting into a lone minority, though he didn’t have sense enough to
+realize it. He would even fight with and curse his horses to impress us
+with his authority. Very little attention was paid to him after this,
+and as grass and water improved right along nothing of interest
+happened.
+
+“While crossing ‘No-Man’s-Land’ a month later,—I was on herd myself at
+the time, a bright moonlight night,—they jumped like a cat shot with
+No. 8’s, and quit the bed-ground instanter. There were three of us on
+guard at the time, and before the other boys could get out of their
+blankets and into their saddles the herd had gotten well under headway.
+Even when the others came to our assistance, it took us some time to
+quiet them down. As this scare came during last guard, daylight was on
+us before they had quit milling, and we were three miles from the
+wagon. As we drifted them back towards camp, for fear that something
+might have gotten away, most of the boys scoured the country for miles
+about, but without reward. When all had returned to camp, had
+breakfasted, and changed horses, the counting act was ordered by Mr.
+Medicine. Our foreman naturally felt that he would have to take a hand
+in this count, evidently forgetting his last experience in that line.
+He was surprised, when he asked one of the boys to help him, by
+receiving a flat refusal.
+
+“‘Why won’t you count with me?’ he demanded.
+
+“‘Because you don’t possess common cow sense enough, nor is the crude
+material in you to make a cow-hand. You found fault with the men the
+last count we had, and I don’t propose to please you by giving you a
+chance to find fault with me. That’s why I won’t count with you.’
+
+“‘Don’t you know, sir, that I’m in authority here?’ retorted the
+foreman.
+
+“‘Well, if you are, no one seems to respect your authority, as you’re
+pleased to call it, and I don’t know of any reason why I should. You
+have plenty of men here who can count them correctly. I’ll count them
+with any man in the outfit but yourself.’
+
+“‘Our company sent me as their representative with this herd,’ replied
+the foreman, ‘while you have the insolence to disregard my orders. I’ll
+discharge you the first moment I can get a man to take your place.’
+
+“‘Oh, that’ll be all right,’ answered the lad, as the foreman rode
+away. He then tackled me, but I acted foolish, ’fessing up that I
+couldn’t count a hundred. Finally he rode around to a quiet little
+fellow, with pox-marks on his face, who always rode on the point, kept
+his horses fatter than anybody, rode a San José saddle, and was called
+Californy. The boss asked him to help him count the herd.
+
+“‘Now look here, boss,’ said Californy, ‘I’ll pick one of the boys to
+help me, and we’ll count the cattle to within a few head. Won’t that
+satisfy you?’
+
+“‘No, sir, it won’t. What’s got into you boys?’ questioned the foreman.
+
+“‘There’s nothing the matter with the boys, but the cattle business has
+gone to the dogs when a valuable herd like this will be trusted to
+cross a country for two thousand miles in the hands of a man like
+yourself. You have men that will pull you through if you’ll only let
+them,’ said the point-rider, his voice mild and kind as though he were
+speaking to a child.
+
+“‘You’re just like the rest of them!’ roared the boss. ‘Want to act
+contrary! Now let me say to you that you’ll help me to count these
+cattle or I’ll discharge, unhorse, and leave you afoot here in this
+country! I’ll make an example of you as a warning to others.’
+
+“‘It’s strange that I should be signaled out as an object of your wrath
+and displeasure,’ said Californy. ‘Besides, if I were you, I wouldn’t
+make any examples as you were thinking of doing. When you talk of
+making an example of me as a warning to others,’ said the pox-marked
+lad, as he reached over, taking the reins of the foreman’s horse firmly
+in his hand, ‘you’re a simpering idiot for entertaining the idea, and a
+cowardly bluffer for mentioning it. When you talk of unhorsing and
+leaving me here afoot in a country a thousand miles from nowhere, you
+don’t know what that means, but there’s no danger of your doing it. I
+feel easy on that point. But I’m sorry to see you make such a fool of
+yourself. Now, you may think for a moment that I’m afraid of that
+ivory-handled gun you wear, but I’m not. Men wear them on the range,
+not so much to emphasize their demands with, as you might think. If it
+were me, I’d throw it in the wagon; it may get you into trouble. One
+thing certain, if you ever so much as lay your hand on it, when you are
+making threats as you have done to-day, I’ll build a fire in your face
+that you can read the San Francisco “Examiner” by at midnight. You’ll
+have to revise your ideas a trifle; in fact, change your tactics.
+You’re off your reservation bigger than a wolf, when you try to run
+things by force. There’s lots better ways. Don’t try and make talk
+stick for actions, nor use any prelude to the real play you wish to
+make. Unroll your little game with the real thing. You can’t throw
+alkaline dust in my eyes and tell me it’s snowing. I’m sorry to have to
+tell you all this, though I have noticed that you needed it for a long
+time.’
+
+“As he released his grip on the bridle reins, he continued, ‘Now ride
+back to the wagon, throw off that gun, tell some of the boys to take a
+man and count these cattle, and it will be done better than if you
+helped.’
+
+“‘Must I continue to listen to these insults on every hand?’ hissed the
+medicine man, livid with rage.
+
+“‘First remove the cause before you apply the remedy; that’s in your
+line,’ answered Californy. ‘Besides, what are you going to do about it?
+You don’t seem to be gifted with enough cow-sense to even use a
+modified amount of policy in your every-day affairs,’ said he, as he
+rode away to avoid hearing his answer.
+
+“Several of us, who were near enough to hear this dressing-down of the
+boss at Californy’s hands, rode up to offer our congratulations, when
+we noticed that old Bad Medicine had gotten a stand on one of the boys
+called ‘Pink.’ After leaving him, he continued his ride towards the
+wagon. Pink soon joined us, a broad smile playing over his homely
+florid countenance.
+
+“‘Some of you boys must have given him a heavy dose for so early in the
+morning,’ said Pink, ‘for he ordered me to have the cattle counted, and
+report to him at the wagon. Acted like he didn’t aim to do the trick
+himself. Now, as I’m foreman,’ continued Pink, ‘I want you two
+point-men to go up to the first little rise of ground, and we’ll put
+the cattle through between you. I want a close count, understand.
+You’re working under a boss now that will shove you through hell
+itself. So if you miss them over a hundred, I’ll speak to the
+management, and see if I can’t have your wages raised, or have you made
+a foreman or something with big wages and nothing to do.’
+
+“The point-men smiled at Pink’s orders, and one asked, ‘Are you ready
+now?’
+
+“‘All set,’ responded Pink. ‘Let the fiddlers cut loose.’
+
+“Well, we lined them up and got them strung out in shape to count, and
+our point-men picking out a favorite rise, we lined them through
+between our counters. We fed them through, and as regularly as a watch
+you could hear Californy call out to his pardner ‘tally!’ Alternately
+they would sing out this check on the even hundred head, slipping a
+knot on their tally string to keep the hundreds. It took a full half
+hour to put them through, and when the rear guard of crips and dogies
+passed this impromptu review, we all waited patiently for the verdict.
+Our counters rode together, and Californy, leaning over on the pommel
+of his saddle, said to his pardner, ‘What you got?’
+
+“‘Thirty-three six,’ was the answer.
+
+“‘Why, you can’t count a little bit,’ said Californy. ‘I got
+thirty-three seven. How does the count suit you, boss?’
+
+“‘Easy suited, gents,’ said Pink. ‘But I’m surprised to find such good
+men with a common cow herd. I must try and have you appointed by the
+government on this commission that’s to investigate Texas fever. You’re
+altogether too accomplished for such a common calling as claims you at
+present.’
+
+“Turning to the rest of us, he said, ‘Throw your cattle on the trail,
+you vulgar peons, while I ride back to order forward my wagon and
+saddle stock. By rights, I ought to have one of those centre fire
+cigars to smoke, to set off my authority properly on this occasion.’
+
+“He jogged back to the wagon and satisfied the dethroned medicine man
+that the cattle were there to a hoof. We soon saw the saddle horses
+following, and an hour afterward Pink and the foreman rode by us, big
+as fat cattle-buyers from Kansas City, not even knowing any one, so
+absorbed in their conversation were they; rode on by and up the trail,
+looking out for grass and water.
+
+“It was over two weeks afterward when Pink said to us, ‘When we strike
+the Santa Fé Railway, I may advise my man to take a needed rest for a
+few weeks in some of the mountain resorts. I hope you all noticed how
+worried he looks, and, to my judgment, he seems to be losing flesh. I
+don’t like to suggest anything, but the day before we reach the
+railroad, I think a day’s curlew shooting in the sand hills along the
+Arkansas River might please his highness. In case he’ll go with me, if
+I don’t lose him, I’ll never come back to this herd. It won’t hurt him
+any to sleep out one night with the dry cattle.’
+
+“Sure enough, the day before we crossed that road, somewhere near the
+Colorado state line, Pink and Bad Medicine left camp early in the
+morning for a curlew hunt in the sand hills. Fortunately it was a foggy
+morning, and within half an hour the two were out of sight of camp and
+herd. As Pink had outlined the plans, everything was understood. We
+were encamped on a nice stream, and instead of trailing along with the
+herd, lay over for that day. Night came and our hunters failed to
+return, and the next morning we trailed forward towards the Arkansas
+River. Just as we went into camp at noon, two horsemen loomed up in
+sight coming down the trail from above. Every rascal of us knew who
+they were, and when the two rode up, Pink grew very angry and demanded
+to know why we had failed to reach the river the day before.
+
+“The horse wrangler, a fellow named Joe George, had been properly
+coached, and stepping forward, volunteered this excuse: ‘You all didn’t
+know it when you left camp yesterday morning that we were out the wagon
+team and nearly half the saddle horses. Well, we were. And what’s more,
+less than a mile below on the creek was an abandoned Indian camp. I
+wasn’t going to be left behind with the cook to look for the missing
+stock, and told the _segundo_ so. We divided into squads of three or
+four men each and went out and looked up the horses, but it was after
+six o’clock before we trailed them down and got the missing animals. If
+anybody thinks I’m going to stay behind to look for missing stock in a
+country full of lurking Indians—well, they simply don’t know me.’
+
+“The scheme worked all right. On reaching the railroad the next
+morning, Bad Medicine authorized Pink to take the herd to Ogalalla on
+the Platte, while he took a train for Denver. Around the camp-fire that
+night, Pink gave us his experience in losing Mr. Medicine. ‘Oh, I lost
+him late enough in the day so he couldn’t reach any shelter for the
+night,’ said Pink. ‘At noon, when the sun was straight overhead, I
+sounded him as to directions and found that he didn’t know straight up
+or east from west. After giving him the slip, I kept an eye on him
+among the sand hills, at the distance of a mile or so, until he gave up
+and unsaddled at dusk. The next morning when I overtook him, I
+pretended to be trailing him up, and I threw enough joy into my rapture
+over finding him, that he never doubted my sincerity.’
+
+“On reaching Ogalalla, a man from Montana put in an appearance in
+company with poor old Medicine, and as they did business strictly with
+Pink, we were left out of the grave and owly council of medicine men.
+Well, the upshot of the whole matter was that Pink was put in charge of
+the herd, and a better foreman I never worked under. We reached the
+company’s Yellowstone range early in the fall, counted over and bade
+our dogies good-by, and rode into headquarters. That night I talked
+with the regular men on the ranch, and it was there that I found out
+that a first-class cowhand could get in four months’ haying in the
+summer and the same feeding it out in the winter. But don’t you forget
+it, she’s a cow country all right. I always was such a poor hand afoot
+that I passed up that country, and here I am a ‘boomer.’”
+
+“Well, boom if you want,” said Tom Roll, “but do you all remember what
+the governor of North Carolina said to the governor of South Carolina?”
+
+“It is quite a long time between drinks,” remarked Joe, rising, “but I
+didn’t want to interrupt Ace.”
+
+As we lined up at the bar, Ace held up a glass two thirds full, and
+looking at it in a meditative mood, remarked: “Isn’t it funny how
+little of this stuff it takes to make a fellow feel rich! Why, four
+bits’ worth under his belt, and the President of the United States
+can’t hire him.”
+
+As we strolled out into the street, Joe inquired, “Ace, where will I
+see you after supper?”
+
+“You will see me, not only after supper, but all during supper, sitting
+right beside you.”
+
+
+
+
+IV
+A WINTER ROUND-UP
+
+
+An hour before daybreak one Christmas morning in the Cherokee Strip,
+six hundred horses were under saddle awaiting the dawn. It was a clear,
+frosty morning that bespoke an equally clear day for the wolf _rodeo_.
+Every cow-camp within striking distance of the Walnut Grove, on the
+Salt Fork of the Cimarron, was a scene of activity, taxing to the
+utmost its hospitality to man and horse. There had been a hearty
+response to the invitation to attend the circle drive-hunt of this
+well-known shelter of several bands of gray wolves. The cowmen had
+suffered so severely in time past from this enemy of cattle that the
+Cherokee Strip Cattle Association had that year offered a bounty of
+twenty dollars for wolf scalps.
+
+The lay of the land was extremely favorable. The Walnut Grove was a
+thickety covert on the north first bottom of the Cimarron, and possibly
+two miles wide by three long. Across the river, and extending several
+miles above and below this grove, was the salt plain—an alkali desert
+which no wild animal, ruminant or carnivorous, would attempt to cross,
+instinct having warned it of its danger. At the termination of the
+grove proper, down the river or to the eastward, was a sand dune bottom
+of several miles, covered by wild plum brush, terminating in a perfect
+horseshoe a thousand acres in extent, the entrance of which was about a
+mile wide. After passing the grove, this plum-brush country could be
+covered by men on horseback, though the chaparral undergrowth of the
+grove made the use of horses impracticable. The Cimarron River, which
+surrounds this horseshoe on all sides but the entrance, was probably
+two hundred yards wide at an average winter stage, deep enough to swim
+a horse, and cold and rolling.
+
+Across the river, opposite this horseshoe, was a cut-bank twenty feet
+high in places, with only an occasional cattle trail leading down to
+the water. This cut-bank formed the second bottom on that side, and the
+alkaline plain—the first bottom—ended a mile or more up the river. It
+was an ideal situation for a drive-hunt, and legend, corroborated by
+evidences, said that the Cherokees, when they used this outlet as a
+hunting-ground after their enforced emigration from Georgia, had held
+numerous circle hunts over the same ground after buffalo, deer, and
+elk.
+
+The rendezvous was to be at ten o’clock on Encampment Butte, a plateau
+overlooking the entire hunting-field and visible for miles. An hour
+before the appointed time the clans began to gather. All the camps
+within twenty-five miles, and which were entertaining participants of
+the hunt, put in a prompt appearance. Word was received early that
+morning that a contingent from the Eagle Chief would be there, and
+begged that the start be delayed till their arrival. A number of old
+cowmen were present, and to them was delegated the duty of appointing
+the officers of the day. Bill Miller, a foreman on the Coldwater Pool,
+an adjoining range, was appointed as first captain. There were also
+several captains over divisions, and an acting captain placed over
+every ten men, who would be held accountable for any disorder allowed
+along the line under his special charge.
+
+The question of forbidding the promiscuous carrying of firearms met
+with decided opposition. There was an element of danger, it was true,
+but to deprive any of the boys of arms on what promised an exciting
+day’s sport was contrary to their creed and occupation; besides, their
+judicious use would be an essential and valuable assistance. To deny
+one the right and permit another, would have been to divide their
+forces against a common enemy; so in the interests of harmony it was
+finally concluded to assign an acting captain over every ten men. “I’ll
+be perfectly responsible for any of my men,” said Reese, a red-headed
+Welsh cowman from over on Black Bear. “Let’s just turn our wild selves
+loose, and those wolves won’t stand any more show than a coon in a bear
+dance.”
+
+“It would be fine satisfaction to be shot by a responsible man like you
+or any of your outfit,” replied Hollycott, superintendent of the “LX.”
+“I hope another Christmas Day to help eat a plum pudding on the banks
+of the Dee, and I don’t want to be carrying any of your stray lead in
+my carcass either. Did you hear me?”
+
+“Yes; we’re going to have egg-nog at our camp to-night. Come down.”
+
+The boys were being told off in squads of ten, when a suppressed shout
+of welcome arose, as a cavalcade of horsemen was sighted coming over
+the divide several miles distant. Before the men were allotted and
+their captains appointed, the last expected squad had arrived, their
+horses frosty and sweaty. They were all well known west end Strippers,
+numbering fifty-four men and having ridden from the Eagle Chief,
+thirty-five miles, starting two hours before daybreak.
+
+With the arrival of this detachment, Miller gave his orders for the
+day. Tom Cave was given two hundred men and sent to the upper end of
+the grove, where they were to dismount, form in a half circle
+skirmish-line covering the width of the thicket, and commence the drive
+down the river. Their saddle horses were to be cut into two bunches and
+driven down on either side of the grove, and to be in readiness for the
+men when they emerged from the chaparral, four of the oldest men being
+detailed as horse wranglers. Reese was sent with a hundred and fifty
+men to left flank the grove, deploying his men as far back as the
+second bottom, and close his line as the drive moved forward. Billy
+Edwards was sent with twenty picked men down the river five miles to
+the old beef ford at the ripples. His instructions were to cross and
+scatter his men from the ending of the salt plain to the horseshoe, and
+to concentrate them around it at the termination of the drive. He was
+allowed the best ropers and a number of shotguns, to be stationed at
+the cattle trails leading down to the water at the river’s bend. The
+remainder, about two hundred and fifty men under Lynch, formed a long
+scattering line from the left entrance of the horseshoe, extending back
+until it met the advancing line of Reese’s pickets.
+
+With the river on one side and this cordon of foot and horsemen on the
+other, it seemed that nothing could possibly escape. The location of
+the quarry was almost assured. This chaparral had been the breeding
+refuge of wolves ever since the Cimarron was a cattle country. Every
+rider on that range for the past ten years knew it to be the rendezvous
+of El Lobo, while the ravages of his nightly raids were in evidence for
+forty miles in every direction. It was a common sight, early in the
+morning during the winter months, to see twenty and upward in a band,
+leisurely returning to their retreat, logy and insolent after a night’s
+raid. To make doubly sure that they would be at home to callers, the
+promoters of this drive gathered a number of worthless lump-jawed
+cattle two days in advance, and driving them to the edge of the grove,
+shot one occasionally along its borders, thus, to be hoped, spreading
+the last feast of the wolves.
+
+
+By half past ten, Encampment Butte was deserted with the exception of a
+few old cowmen, two ladies, wife and sister of a popular cowman, and
+the captain, who from this point of vantage surveyed the field with a
+glass. Usually a languid and indifferent man, Miller had so set his
+heart on making this drive a success that this morning he appeared
+alert and aggressive as he rode forward and back across the plateau of
+the Butte. The dull, heavy reports of several shotguns caused him to
+wheel his horse and cover the beef ford with his glass, and a moment
+later Edwards and his squad were seen with the naked eye to scale the
+bank and strike up the river at a gallop. It was known that the ford
+was saddle-skirt deep, and some few of the men were strangers to it;
+but with that passed safely he felt easier, though his blood coursed
+quicker. It lacked but a few minutes to eleven, and Cave and his
+detachment of beaters were due to move on the stroke of the hour. They
+had been given one hundred rounds of six-shooter ammunition to the man
+and were expected to use it. Edwards and his cavalcade were approaching
+the horseshoe, the cordon seemed perfect, though scattering, when the
+first faint sound of the beaters was heard, and the next moment the
+barking of two hundred six-shooters was reëchoing up and down the
+valley of the Salt Fork.
+
+The drive-hunt was on; the long yell passed from the upper end of the
+grove to the mouth of the horseshoe and back, punctuated with an
+occasional shot by irrepressibles. The mounts of the day were the pick
+of over five thousand cow-horses, and corn-fed for winter use, in the
+pink of condition and as impatient for the coming fray as their riders.
+
+Everything was moving like clockwork. Miller forsook the Butte and rode
+to the upper end of the grove; the beaters were making slow but steady
+progress, while the saddled loose horses would be at hand for their
+riders without any loss of time. Before the beaters were one third over
+the ground, a buck and doe came out about halfway down the grove,
+sighted the horsemen, and turned back for shelter. Once more the long
+yell went down the line. Game had been sighted. When about one half the
+grove had been beat, a flock of wild turkeys came out at the lower end,
+and taking flight, sailed over the line. Pandemonium broke out. Good
+resolutions of an hour’s existence were converted into paving material
+in the excitement of the moment, as every carbine or six-shooter in or
+out of range rained its leaden hail at the flying covey. One fine bird
+was accidentally winged, and half a dozen men broke from the line to
+run it down, one of whom was Reese himself. The line was not
+dangerously broken nor did harm result, and on their return Miller was
+present and addressed this query to Reese: “Who is the captain of this
+flank line?”
+
+“He’ll weigh twenty pounds,” said Reese, ignoring the question and
+holding the gobbler up for inspection.
+
+“If you were a vealy tow-headed kid, I’d have something to say to you,
+but you’re old enough to be my father, and that silences me. But try
+and remember that this is a wolf hunt, and that there are enough wolves
+in that brush this minute to kill ten thousand dollars’ worth of cattle
+this winter and spring, and some of them will be your own. That turkey
+might eat a few grasshoppers, but you’re cowman enough to know that a
+wolf just loves to kill a cow while she’s calving.”
+
+This lecture was interrupted by a long cheer coming up the line from
+below, and Miller galloped away to ascertain its cause. He met Lynch
+coming up, who reported that several wolves had been sighted, while at
+the lower end of the line some of the boys had been trying their guns
+up and down the river to see how far they would carry. What caused the
+recent shouting was only a few fool cowboys spurting their horses in
+short races. He further expressed the opinion that the line would hold,
+and at the close with the cordon thickened, everything would be forced
+into the pocket. Miller rode back down the line with him until he met a
+man from his own camp, and the two changing horses, he hurried back to
+oversee personally the mounting of the beaters when the grove had been
+passed.
+
+Reese, after the captain’s reproof, turned his trophy over to some of
+the men, and was bringing his line down and closing up with the forward
+movement of the drive. On Miller’s return, no fault could be found, as
+the line was condensed to about a mile in length, while the beaters on
+the points were just beginning to emerge from the chaparral and anxious
+for their horses. Once clear of the grove, the beaters halted,
+maintaining their line, while from either end the horse wranglers were
+distributing to them their mounts. Again secure in their saddles, the
+long yell circled through the plum thickets and reëchoed down the line,
+and the drive moved forward at a quicker pace. “If you have any doubts
+about hell,” said Cave to Miller, as the latter rode by, “just take a
+little _pasear_ through that thicket once and you’ll come out a
+defender of the faith.”
+
+The buck and doe came out within sight of the line once more, lower
+down opposite the sand dunes, and again turned back, and a half hour
+later all ears were strained listening to the rapid shooting from the
+farther bank of the river. Rebuffed in their several attempts to force
+the line, they had taken to the water and were swimming the river. From
+several sand dunes their landing on the opposite bank near the ending
+of the salt plain could be distinctly seen. As they came out of the
+river, half a dozen six-shooters were paying them a salute in lead; but
+the excitability of the horses made aim uncertain, and they rounded the
+cut-bank at the upper end and escaped.
+
+While the deer were making their escape, a band of antelope were
+sighted sunning themselves amongst the sand dunes a mile below;
+attracted by the shooting, they were standing at attention. Now when an
+antelope scents danger, he has an unreasonable and unexplainable desire
+to reach high ground, where he can observe and be observed—at a
+distance. Once this conclusion has been reached, he allows nothing to
+stop him, not even recently built wire fences or man himself, and like
+the cat despises water except for drinking purposes. So when this band
+of antelope decided to adjourn their _siesta_ from the warm, sunny
+slope of a sand dune, they made an effort and did break the cordon, but
+not without a protest.
+
+As they came out of the sand dunes, heading straight for the line, all
+semblance of control was lost in the men. Nothing daunted by the
+yelling that greeted the antelope, once they came within range fifty
+men were shooting at them without bringing one to grass. With guns
+empty they loosened their ropes and met them. A dozen men made casts,
+and Juan Mesa, a Mexican from the Eagle Chief, lassoed a fine buck,
+while “Pard” Sevenoaks, from the J+H, fastened to the smallest one in
+the band. He was so disgusted with his catch that he dismounted,
+ear-marked the kid, and let it go. Mesa had made his cast with so large
+a loop that one fore leg of the antelope had gone through, and it was
+struggling so desperately that he was compelled to tie the rope in a
+hard knot to the pommel of his saddle. His horse was a wheeler on the
+rope, so Juan dismounted to pet his buck. While he held on to the rope
+assisting his horse, an Eagle Chief man slipped up and cut the rope
+through the knot, and the next moment a Mexican was burning the grass,
+calling on saints and others to come and help him turn the antelope
+loose. When the rope had burned its way through his gloved hands, he
+looked at them in astonishment, saying, “That was one bravo buck. How
+come thees rope untie?” But there was none to explain, and an antelope
+was dragging thirty-five feet of rope in a frantic endeavor to overtake
+his band.
+
+The line had been closing gradually until at this juncture it had been
+condensed to about five miles, or a horseman to every fifty feet.
+Wolves had been sighted numerous times running from covert to covert,
+but few had shown themselves to the flank line, being contented with
+such shelter as the scraggy plum brush afforded. Whenever the beaters
+would rout or sight a wolf, the yelling would continue up and down the
+line for several minutes. Cave and his well-formed circle of beaters
+were making good time; Reese on the left flank was closing and moving
+forward, while the line under Lynch was as impatient as it was
+hilarious. Miller made the circle every half hour or so; and had only
+to mention it to pick any horse he wanted from the entire line for a
+change.
+
+By one o’clock the drive had closed to the entrance of the pocket, and
+within a mile and a half of the termination. There was yet enough cover
+to hide the quarry, though the extreme point of this horseshoe was a
+sand bar with no shelter except driftwood trees. Edwards and his squad
+were at their post across the river, in plain view of the advancing
+line. Suddenly they were seen to dismount and lie down on the brink of
+the cut-bank. A few minutes later chaos broke out along the line, when
+a band of possibly twenty wolves left their cover and appeared on the
+sand bar. A few rifle shots rang out from the opposite bank, when they
+skurried back to cover.
+
+Shooting was now becoming dangerous. In the line was a horseman every
+ten or twelve feet. All the captains rode up and down begging the men
+to cease shooting entirely. This only had a temporary effect, for
+shortly the last bit of cover was passed, and there within four hundred
+yards on the bar was a snarling, snapping band of gray wolves.
+
+The line was halted. The unlooked-for question now arose how to make
+the kill safe and effective. It would be impossible to shoot from the
+opposite bank without endangering the line of men and horses. Finally a
+small number of rifles were advanced on the extreme left flank to
+within two hundred yards of the quarry, where they opened fire at an
+angle from the watchers on the opposite bank. They proved poor
+marksmen, overshooting, and only succeeded in wounding a few and
+forcing several to take to the water, so that it became necessary to
+recall the men to the line.
+
+These men were now ordered to dismount and lie down, as the opposite
+side would take a hand when the swimming wolves came within range of
+shotguns and carbines, to say nothing of six-shooters. The current
+carried the swimming ones down the river, but every man was in
+readiness to give them a welcome. The fusillade which greeted them was
+like a skirmish-line in action, but the most effective execution was
+with buckshot as they came staggering and water-soaked out of the
+water. Before the shooting across the river had ceased, a yell of alarm
+surged through the line, and the next moment every man was climbing
+into his saddle and bringing his arms into position for action. No
+earthly power could have controlled the men, for coming at the line
+less than two hundred yards distant was the corralled band of wolves
+under the leadership of a monster dog wolf, evidently a leader of some
+band, and every gun within range opened on them. By the time they had
+lessened the intervening distance by one half, the entire band deserted
+their leader and retreated, but unmindful of consequences he rushed
+forward at the line. Every gun was belching fire and lead at him, while
+tufts of fur floating in the air told that several shots were
+effective. Wounded he met the horsemen, striking right and left in
+splendid savage ferocity. The horses snorted and shrank from him, and
+several suffered from his ugly thrusts. An occasional effective shot
+was placed, but every time he forced his way through the cordon he was
+confronted by a second line. A successful cast of a rope finally
+checked his course; and as the roper wheeled his mount to drag him to
+death, he made his last final rush at the horse, and, springing at the
+flank, fastened his fangs into a stirrup fender, when a well-directed
+shot by the roper silenced him safely at last.
+
+During the excitement, there were enough cool heads to maintain the
+line, so that none escaped. The supreme question now was to make the
+kill with safety, and the line was ransacked for volunteers who could
+shoot a rifle with some little accuracy. About a dozen were secured,
+who again advanced on the extreme right flank to within a hundred and
+fifty yards, and dismounting, flattened themselves out and opened on
+the skurrying wolves. It was afterward attributed to the glaring of the
+sun on the white sand, which made their marksmanship so shamefully
+poor, but results were very unsatisfactory. They were recalled, and it
+was decided to send in four shotguns and try the effect of buckshot
+from horseback. This move was disastrous, though final.
+
+They were ordinary double-barreled shotguns, and reloading was slow in
+an emergency. Many of the wolves were wounded and had sought such cover
+as the driftwood afforded. The experiment had barely begun, when a
+wounded wolf sprang out from behind an old root, and fastened upon the
+neck of one of the horses before the rider could defend himself, and
+the next moment horse and rider were floundering on the ground. To a
+man, the line broke to the rescue, while the horses of the two lady
+spectators were carried into the mêlée in the excitement. The dogs of
+war were loosed. Hell popped. The smoke of six hundred guns arose in
+clouds. There were wolves swimming the river and wolves trotting around
+amongst the horses, wounded and bewildered. Ropes swished through the
+smoke, tying wounded wolves to be dragged to death or trampled under
+hoof. Men dismounted and clubbed them with shotguns and
+carbines,—anything to administer death. Horses were powder-burnt and
+cried with fear, or neighed exultingly. There was an old man or two who
+had sense enough to secure the horses of the ladies and lead them out
+of immediate danger. Several wolves made their escape, and squads of
+horsemen were burying cruel rowels in heaving flanks in an endeavor to
+overtake and either rope or shoot the fleeing animals.
+
+Disordered things as well as ordered ones have an end, and when sanity
+returned to the mob an inventory was taken of the drive-hunt. By actual
+count, the lifeless carcases of twenty-six wolves graced the sand bar,
+with several precincts to hear from. The promoters of the hunt thanked
+the men for their assistance, assuring them that the bounty money would
+be used to perfect arrangements, so that in other years a banquet would
+crown future hunts. Before the hunt dispersed, Edwards and his squad
+returned to the brink of the cut-bank, and when hailed as to results,
+he replied, “Why, we only got seven, but they are all _muy docil_.
+We’re going to peel them and will meet you at the ford.”
+
+“Who gets the turkey?” some one asked.
+
+“The question is out of order,” replied Reese. “The property is not
+present, because I sent him home by my cook an hour ago. If any of you
+have any interest in that gobbler, I’ll invite you to go home with me
+and help to eat him, for my camp is the only one in the Strip that will
+have turkey and egg-nog to-night.”
+
+
+
+
+V
+A COLLEGE VAGABOND
+
+
+The ease and apparent willingness with which some men revert to an
+aimless life can best be accounted for by the savage or barbarian
+instincts of our natures. The West has produced many types of the
+vagabond,—it might be excusable to say, won them from every condition
+of society. From the cultured East, with all the advantages which
+wealth and educational facilities can give to her sons, they flocked;
+from the South, with her pride of ancestry, they came; even the British
+Isles contributed their quota. There was something in the primitive
+West of a generation or more ago which satisfied them. Nowhere else
+could it be found, and once they adapted themselves to existing
+conditions, they were loath to return to former associations.
+
+About the middle of the fifties, there graduated from one of our
+Eastern colleges a young man of wealthy and distinguished family. His
+college record was good, but close application to study during the last
+year had told on his general health. His ambition, coupled with a
+laudable desire to succeed, had buoyed up his strength until the final
+graduation day had passed.
+
+Alexander Wells had the advantage of a good physical constitution.
+During the first year at college his reputation as an athlete had been
+firmly established by many a hard fought contest in the college games.
+The last two years he had not taken an active part in them, as his
+studies had required his complete attention. On his return home, it was
+thought by parents and sisters that rest and recreation would soon
+restore the health of this overworked young graduate, who was now two
+years past his majority. Two months of rest, however, failed to produce
+any improvement, but the family physician would not admit that there
+was immediate danger, and declared the trouble simply the result of
+overstudy, advising travel. This advice was very satisfactory to the
+young man, for he had a longing to see other sections of the country.
+
+The elder Wells some years previously had become interested in western
+and southern real estate, and among other investments which he had made
+was the purchase of an old Spanish land grant on a stream called the
+Salado, west of San Antonio, Texas. These land grants were made by the
+crown of Spain to favorite subjects. They were known by name, which
+they always retained when changing ownership. Some of these tracts were
+princely domains, and were bartered about as though worthless, often
+changing owners at the card-table.
+
+So when travel was suggested to Wells, junior, he expressed a desire to
+visit this family possession, and possibly spend a winter in its warm
+climate. This decision was more easily reached from the fact that there
+was an abundance of game on the land, and being a devoted sportsman,
+his own consent was secured in advance. No other reason except that of
+health would ever have gained the consent of his mother to a six
+months’ absence. But within a week after reaching the decision, the
+young man had left New York and was on his way to Texas. His route,
+both by water and rail, brought him only within eighty miles of his
+destination, and the rest of the distance he was obliged to travel by
+stage.
+
+San Antonio at this time was a frontier village, with a mixed
+population, the Mexican being the most prominent inhabitant. There was
+much to be seen which was new and attractive to the young Easterner,
+and he tarried in it several days, enjoying its novel and picturesque
+life. The arrival and departure of the various stage lines for the
+accommodation of travelers like himself was of more than passing
+interest. They rattled in from Austin and Laredo. They were sometimes
+late from El Paso, six hundred miles to the westward. Probably a brush
+with the Indians, or the more to be dreaded Mexican bandits (for these
+stages carried treasure—gold and silver, the currency of the country),
+was the cause of the delay. Frequently they carried guards, whose
+presence was generally sufficient to command the respect of the average
+robber.
+
+Then there were the freight trains, the motive power of which was mules
+and oxen. It was necessary to carry forward supplies and bring back the
+crude products of the country. The Chihuahua wagon was drawn sometimes
+by twelve, sometimes by twenty mules, four abreast in the swing, the
+leaders and wheelers being single teams. For mutual protection trains
+were made up of from ten to twenty wagons. Drivers frequently meeting a
+chance acquaintance going in an opposite direction would ask, “What is
+your cargo?” and the answer would be frankly given, “Specie.” Many a
+Chihuahua wagon carried three or four tons of gold and silver,
+generally the latter. Here was a new book for this college lad, one he
+had never studied, though it was more interesting to him than some he
+had read. There was something thrilling in all this new life. He liked
+it. The romance was real; it was not an imitation. People answered his
+few questions and asked none in return.
+
+In this frontier village at a late hour one night young Wells overheard
+this conversation: “Hello, Bill,” said the case-keeper in a faro game,
+as he turned his head halfway round to see who was the owner of the
+monster hand which had just reached over his shoulder and placed a
+stack of silver dollars on a card, marking it to win, “I’ve missed you
+the last few days. Where have you been so long?”
+
+“Oh, I’ve just been out to El Paso on a little pasear guarding the
+stage,” was the reply. Now the little pasear was a continuous night and
+day round-trip of twelve hundred miles. Bill had slept and eaten as he
+could. When mounted, he scouted every possible point of ambush for
+lurking Indian or bandit. Crossing open stretches of country, he
+climbed up on the stage and slept. Now having returned, he was anxious
+to get his wages into circulation. Here were characters worthy of a
+passing glance.
+
+Interesting as this frontier life was to the young man, he prepared for
+his final destination. He had no trouble in locating his father’s
+property, for it was less than twenty miles from San Antonio. Securing
+an American who spoke Spanish, the two set out on horseback. There were
+several small ranchitos on the tract, where five or six Mexican
+families lived. Each family had a field and raised corn for bread. A
+flock of goats furnished them milk and meat. The same class of people
+in older States were called squatters, making no claim to ownership of
+the land. They needed little clothing, the climate being in their
+favor.
+
+The men worked at times. The pecan crop which grew along the creek
+bottoms was beginning to have a value in the coast towns for shipment
+to northern markets, and this furnished them revenue for their simple
+needs. All kinds of game was in abundance, including waterfowl in
+winter, though winter here was only such in name. These simple people
+gave a welcome to the New Yorker which appeared sincere. They offered
+no apology for their presence on this land, nor was such in order, for
+it was the custom of the country. They merely referred to themselves as
+“his people,” as though belonging to the land.
+
+When they learned that he was the son of the owner of the grant, and
+that he wanted to spend a few months hunting and looking about, they
+considered themselves honored. The best jacal in the group was tendered
+him and his interpreter. The food offered was something new, but the
+relish with which his companion partook of it assisted young Wells in
+overcoming his scruples, and he ate a supper of dishes he had never
+tasted before. The coffee he declared was delicious.
+
+On the advice of his companion they had brought along blankets. The
+women of the ranchito brought other bedding, and a comfortable bed soon
+awaited the Americanos. The owner of the jacal in the mean time
+informed his guest through the interpreter that he had sent to a
+near-by ranchito for a man who had at least the local reputation of
+being quite a hunter. During the interim, while awaiting the arrival of
+the man, he plied his guest with many questions regarding the outside
+world, of which his ideas were very simple, vague, and extremely
+provincial. His conception of distance was what he could ride in a
+given number of days on a good pony. His ideas of wealth were no
+improvement over those of his Indian ancestors of a century previous.
+In architecture, the jacal in which they sat satisfied his ideals.
+
+The footsteps of a horse interrupted their conversation. A few moments
+later, Tiburcio, the hunter, was introduced to the two Americans with a
+profusion of politeness. There was nothing above the ordinary in the
+old hunter, except his hair, eyes, and swarthy complexion, which
+indicated his Aztec ancestry. It might be in perfect order to remark
+here that young Wells was perfectly composed, almost indifferent to the
+company and surroundings. He shook hands with Tiburcio in a manner as
+dignified, yet agreeable, as though he was the governor of his native
+State or the minister of some prominent church at home. From this
+juncture, he at once took the lead in the conversation, and kept up a
+line of questions, the answers to which were very gratifying. He
+learned that deer were very plentiful everywhere, and that on this very
+tract of land were several wild turkey roosts, where it was no trouble
+to bag any number desired. On the prairie portion of the surrounding
+country could be found large droves of antelope. During drouthy periods
+they were known to come twenty miles to quench their thirst in the
+Salado, which was the main watercourse of this grant. Once Tiburcio
+assured his young patron that he had frequently counted a thousand
+antelope during a single morning. Then there was also the javeline or
+peccary which abounded in endless numbers, but it was necessary to hunt
+them with dogs, as they kept the thickets and came out in the open only
+at night. Many a native cur met his end hunting these animals, cut to
+pieces with their tusks, so that packs, trained for the purpose, were
+used to bay them until the hunter could arrive and dispatch them with a
+rifle. Even this was always done from horseback, as it was dangerous to
+approach the javeline, for they would, when aroused, charge anything.
+
+All this was gratifying to young Wells, and like a congenial fellow, he
+produced and showed the old hunter a new gun, the very latest model in
+the market, explaining its good qualities through his interpreter.
+Tiburcio handled it as if it were a rare bit of millinery, but managed
+to ask its price and a few other questions. Through his companion,
+Wells then engaged the old hunter’s services for the following day; not
+that he expected to hunt, but he wanted to acquaint himself with the
+boundaries of the land and to become familiar with the surrounding
+country. Naming an hour for starting in the morning, the two men shook
+hands and bade each other good-night, each using his own language to
+express the parting, though neither one knew a word the other said. The
+first link in a friendship not soon to be broken had been forged.
+
+Tiburcio was on hand at the appointed hour in the morning, and being
+joined by the two Americans they rode off up the stream. It was
+October, and the pecans, they noticed, were already falling, as they
+passed through splendid groves of this timber, several times
+dismounting to fill their pockets with nuts. Tiburcio frequently called
+attention to fresh deer tracks near the creek bottom, and shortly
+afterward the first game of the day was sighted. Five or six does and
+grown fawns broke cover and ran a short distance, stopped, looked at
+the horsemen, and then capered away.
+
+Riding to the highest ground in the vicinity, they obtained a splendid
+view of the stream, outlined by the foliage of the pecan groves that
+lined its banks as far as the eye could follow either way. Tiburcio
+pointed out one particular grove lying three or four miles farther up
+the creek. Here he said was a cabin which had been built by a white man
+who had left it several years ago, and which he had often used as a
+hunting camp in bad weather. Feeling his way cautiously, Wells asked
+the old hunter if he were sure that this cabin was on and belonged to
+the grant. Being assured on both points, he then inquired if there was
+anything to hinder him from occupying the hut for a few months. On the
+further assurance that there was no man to dispute his right, he began
+plying his companions with questions. The interpreter told him that it
+was a very common and simple thing for men to batch, enumerating the
+few articles he would need for this purpose.
+
+They soon reached the cabin, which proved to be an improvement over the
+ordinary jacal of the country, as it had a fireplace and chimney. It
+was built of logs; the crevices were chinked with clay for mortar, its
+floor being of the same substance. The only Mexican feature it
+possessed was the thatched roof. While the Americans were examining it
+and its surroundings, Tiburcio unsaddled the horses, picketing one and
+hobbling the other two, kindled a fire, and prepared a lunch from some
+articles he had brought along. The meal, consisting of coffee, chipped
+venison, and a thin wafer bread made from corn and reheated over coals,
+was disposed of with relish. The two Americans sauntered around for
+some distance, and on their return to the cabin found Tiburcio enjoying
+his siesta under a near-by pecan tree.
+
+Their horses refreshed and rested, they resaddled, crossing the stream,
+intending to return to the ranchito by evening. After leaving the
+bottoms of the creek, Tiburcio showed the young man a trail made by the
+javeline, and he was surprised to learn that an animal with so small a
+foot was a dangerous antagonist, on account of its gregarious nature.
+Proceeding they came to several open prairies, in one of which they saw
+a herd of antelope, numbering forty to fifty, making a beautiful sight
+as they took fright and ran away. Young Wells afterward learned that
+distance lent them charms and was the greatest factor in their beauty.
+As they rode from one vantage-point to another for the purpose of
+sight-seeing, the afternoon passed rapidly.
+
+Later, through the interpreter he inquired of Tiburcio if his services
+could be secured as guide, cook, and companion for the winter, since he
+had fully made up his mind to occupy the cabin. Tiburcio was overjoyed
+at the proposition, as it was congenial to his tastes, besides carrying
+a compensation. Definite arrangements were now made with him, and he
+was requested to be on hand in the morning. On reaching the ranchito,
+young Wells’s decision was announced to their host of the night
+previous, much to the latter’s satisfaction. During the evening the two
+Americans planned to return to the village in the morning for the
+needed supplies. Tiburcio was on hand at the appointed time, and here
+unconsciously the young man fortified himself in the old hunter’s
+confidence by intrusting him with the custody of his gun, blankets, and
+several other articles until he should return.
+
+A week later found the young hunter established in the cabin with the
+interpreter and Tiburcio. A wagon-load of staple supplies was snugly
+stored away for future use, and they were at peace with the world. By
+purchase Wells soon had several saddle ponies, and the old hunter
+adding his pack of javeline dogs, they found themselves well equipped
+for the winter campaign.
+
+Hunting, in which the young man was an apt scholar, was now the order
+of the day. Tiburcio was an artist in woodcraft as well as in his
+knowledge of the habits of animals and birds. On chilly or disagreeable
+days they would take out the pack of dogs and beat the thickets for the
+javeline. It was exciting sport to bring to bay a drove of these
+animals. To shoot from horseback lent a charm, yet made aim uncertain,
+nor was it advisable to get too close range. Many a young dog made a
+fatal mistake in getting too near this little animal, and the doctoring
+of crippled dogs became a daily duty. All surplus game was sent to the
+ranchito below, where it was always appreciated.
+
+At first the young man wrote regularly long letters home, but as it
+took Tiburcio a day to go to the post-office, he justified himself in
+putting writing off, sometimes several weeks, because it ruined a whole
+day and tired out a horse to mail a letter. Hardships were enjoyed.
+They thought nothing of spending a whole night going from one turkey
+roost to another, if half a dozen fine birds were the reward. They
+would saddle up in the evening and ride ten miles, sleeping out all
+night by a fire in order to stalk a buck at daybreak, having located
+his range previously.
+
+Thus the winter passed, and as the limit of the young man’s vacation
+was near at hand, Wells wrote home pleading for more time, telling his
+friends how fast he was improving, and estimating that it would take at
+least six months more to restore him fully to his former health. This
+request being granted, he contented himself by riding about the
+country, even visiting cattle ranches south on the Frio River. Now and
+then he would ride into San Antonio for a day or two, but there was
+nothing new to be seen there, and his visits were brief. He had
+acquired a sufficient knowledge of Spanish to get along now without an
+interpreter.
+
+When the summer was well spent, he began to devise some excuse to give
+his parents for remaining another winter. Accordingly he wrote his
+father what splendid opportunities there were to engage in cattle
+ranching, going into detail very intelligently in regard to the grasses
+on the tract and the fine opportunity presented for establishing a
+ranch. The water privileges, the faithfulness of Tiburcio, and other
+minor matters were fully set forth, and he concluded by advising that
+they buy or start a brand of cattle on this grant. His father’s reply
+was that he should expect his son to return as soon as the state of his
+health would permit. He wished to be a dutiful son, yet he wished to
+hunt just one more winter.
+
+So he felt that he must make another tack to gain his point. Following
+letters noted no improvement in his health. Now, as the hunting season
+was near at hand, he found it convenient to bargain with a renegade
+doctor, who, for the consideration offered, wrote his parents that
+their son had recently consulted him to see if it would be advisable to
+return to a rigorous climate in his present condition. Professionally
+he felt compelled to advise him not to think of leaving Texas for at
+least another year. To supplement this, the son wrote that he hoped to
+be able to go home in the early spring. This had the desired effect.
+Any remorse of conscience he may have felt over the deception resorted
+to was soon forgotten in following a pack of hounds or stalking deer,
+for hunting now became the order of the day. The antlered buck was
+again in his prime. His favorite range was carefully noted. Very few
+hunts were unrewarded by at least one or more shots at this noble
+animal. With an occasional visitor, the winter passed as had the
+previous one. Some congenial spirit would often spend a few days with
+them, and his departure was always sincerely regretted.
+
+The most peculiar feature of the whole affair was the friendship of the
+young man for Tiburcio. The latter was the practical hunter, which
+actual experience only can produce. He could foretell the coming of a
+norther twenty-four hours in advance. Just which course deer would
+graze he could predict by the quarter of the wind. In woodcraft he was
+a trustworthy though unquoted authority. His young patron often showed
+him his watch and explained how it measured time, but he had no use for
+it. He could tell nearly enough when it was noon, and if the stars were
+shining he knew midnight within a few minutes. This he had learned when
+a shepherd. He could track a wounded deer for miles, when another could
+not see a trace of where the animal had passed. He could recognize the
+footprint of his favorite saddle pony among a thousand others. How he
+did these things he did not know himself. These companions were
+graduates of different schools, extremes of different nationalities.
+Yet Alexander Wells had no desire to elevate the old hunter to his own
+standard, preferring to sit at his feet.
+
+But finally the appearance of blades of grass and early flowers warned
+them that winter was gone and that spring was at hand. Their
+occupation, therefore, was at an end. Now how to satisfy the folks at
+home and get a further extension of time was the truant’s supreme
+object. While he always professed obedience to parental demands, yet
+rebellion was brewing, for he did not want to go East—not just yet.
+Imperative orders to return were artfully parried. Finally remittances
+were withheld, but he had no use for money. Coercion was bad policy to
+use in his case. Thus a third and a fourth winter passed, and the young
+hunter was enjoying life on the Salado, where questions of state and
+nation did not bother him.
+
+But this existence had an end. One day in the spring a conveyance drove
+up to the cabin, and an elderly, well-dressed woman alighted. With the
+assistance of her driver she ran the gauntlet of dogs and reached the
+cabin door, which was open. There, sitting inside on a dry cow-skin
+which was spread on the clay floor, was the object of her visit,
+surrounded by a group of Mexican companions, playing a game called
+monte. The absorbing interest taken in the cards had prevented the
+inmates of the jacal from noticing the lady’s approach until she stood
+opposite the door. On the appearance of a woman, the game instantly
+ceased. Recognition was mutual, but neither mother nor son spoke a
+word. Her eye took in the surroundings at a glance. Finally she spoke
+with a half-concealed imperiousness of tone, though her voice was quiet
+and kindly.
+
+“Alexander, if you wish to see your mother, come to San Antonio, won’t
+you, please?” and turning, she retraced her steps toward the carriage.
+
+Her son arose from his squatting posture, hitching up one side of his
+trousers, then the other, for he was suspenderless, and following at a
+distance, scratching his head and hitching his trousers alternately, he
+at last managed to say, “Ah, well—why—if you can wait a few moments
+till I change my clothes, I’ll—I’ll go with you right now.”
+
+This being consented to, he returned to the cabin, made the necessary
+change, and stood before them a picture of health, bewhiskered and
+bronzed like a pirate. As he was halfway to the vehicle, he turned
+back, and taking the old black hands of Tiburcio in his own, said in
+good Spanish, though there was a huskiness in his voice, “That lady is
+my mother. I may never see you again. I don’t think I will. You may
+have for your own everything I leave.”
+
+There were tears in the old hunter’s eyes as he relinquished young
+Wells’s hands and watched him fade from his sight. His mother, unable
+to live longer without him, had made the trip from New York, and now
+that she had him in her possession there was no escape. They took the
+first stage out of the village that night on their return trip for New
+York State.
+
+But the mother’s victory was short-lived and barren. Within three years
+after the son’s return, he failed in two business enterprises in which
+his father started him. Nothing discouraged, his parents offered him a
+third opportunity, it containing, however, a marriage condition. But
+the voice of a siren, singing of flowery prairies and pecan groves on
+the Salado, in which could be heard the music of hounds and the
+clattering of horses’ hoofs at full speed following, filled every niche
+and corner of his heart, and he balked at the marriage offer.
+
+When the son had passed his thirtieth year, his parents became resigned
+and gave their consent to his return to Texas. Long before parental
+consent was finally obtained, it was evident to his many friends that
+the West had completely won him; and once the desire of his heart was
+secured, the languid son beamed with energy in outfitting for his
+return. He wrung the hands of old friends with a new grip, and with
+boyish enthusiasm announced his early departure.
+
+On the morning of leaving, quite a crowd of friends and relatives
+gathered at the depot to see him off. But when a former college chum
+attempted to remonstrate with him on the social sacrifice which he was
+making, he turned to the group of friends, and smilingly said, “That’s
+all right. You are honest in thinking that New York is God’s country.
+But out there in Texas also is, for it is just as God made it. Why, I’m
+going to start a cattle ranch as soon as I get there and go back to
+nature. Don’t pity me. Rather let me pity you, who think, act, and look
+as if turned out of the same mill. Any social sacrifices which I make
+in leaving here will be repaid tenfold by the freedom and advantages of
+the boundless West.”
+
+
+
+
+VI
+THE DOUBLE TRAIL
+
+
+Early in the summer of ’78 we were rocking along with a herd of Laurel
+Leaf cattle, going up the old Chisholm trail in the Indian Territory.
+The cattle were in charge of Ike Inks as foreman, and had been sold for
+delivery somewhere in the Strip.
+
+There were thirty-one hundred head, straight “twos,” and in the single
+ranch brand. We had been out about four months on the trail, and all
+felt that a few weeks at the farthest would let us out, for the day
+before we had crossed the Cimarron River, ninety miles south of the
+state line of Kansas.
+
+The foreman was simply killing time, waiting for orders concerning the
+delivery of the cattle. All kinds of jokes were in order, for we all
+felt that we would soon be set free. One of our men had been taken
+sick, as we crossed Red River into the Nations, and not wanting to
+cross this Indian country short-handed, Inks had picked up a young
+fellow who evidently had never been over the trail before.
+
+He gave the outfit his correct name, on joining us, but it proved
+unpronounceable, and for convenience some one rechristened him Lucy, as
+he had quite a feminine appearance. He was anxious to learn, and was in
+evidence in everything that went on.
+
+The trail from the Cimarron to Little Turkey Creek, where we were now
+camped, had originally been to the east of the present one, skirting a
+black-jack country. After being used several years it had been
+abandoned, being sandy, and the new route followed up the bottoms of
+Big Turkey, since it was firmer soil, affording better footing to
+cattle. These two trails came together again at Little Turkey. At no
+place were they over two or three miles apart, and from where they
+separated to where they came together again was about seven miles.
+
+It troubled Lucy not to know why this was thus. Why did these routes
+separate and come together again? He was fruitful with inquiries as to
+where this trail or that road led. The boss-man had a vein of humor in
+his make-up, though it was not visible; so he told the young man that
+he did not know, as he had been over this route but once before, but he
+thought that Stubb, who was then on herd, could tell him how it was; he
+had been over the trail every year since it was laid out. This was
+sufficient to secure Stubb an interview, as soon as he was relieved
+from duty and had returned to the wagon. So Ike posted one of the men
+who was next on guard to tell Stubb what to expect, and to be sure to
+tell it to him scary.
+
+A brief description of Stubb necessarily intrudes, though this nickname
+describes the man. Extremely short in stature, he was inclined to be
+fleshy. In fact, a rear view of Stubb looked as though some one had
+hollowed out a place to set his head between his ample shoulders. But a
+front view revealed a face like a full moon. In disposition he was very
+amiable. His laugh was enough to drive away the worst case of the
+blues. It bubbled up from some inward source and seemed perennial. His
+worst fault was his bar-room astronomy. If there was any one thing that
+he shone in, it was rustling coffin varnish during the early
+prohibition days along the Kansas border. His patronage was limited
+only by his income, coupled with what credit he enjoyed.
+
+Once, about midnight, he tried to arouse a drug clerk who slept in the
+store, and as he had worked this racket before, he coppered the play to
+repeat. So he tapped gently on the window at the rear where the clerk
+slept, calling him by name. This he repeated any number of times.
+Finally, he threatened to have a fit; even this did not work to his
+advantage. Then he pretended to be very angry, but there was no
+response. After fifteen minutes had been fruitlessly spent, he went
+back to the window, tapped on it once more, saying, “Lon, lie still,
+you little son-of-a-sheep-thief,” which may not be what he said, and
+walked away. A party who had forgotten his name was once inquiring for
+him, describing him thus, “He’s a little short, fat fellow, sits around
+the Maverick Hotel, talks cattle talk, and punishes a power of
+whiskey.”
+
+So before Stubb had even time to unsaddle his horse, he was approached
+to know the history of these two trails.
+
+“Well,” said Stubb somewhat hesitatingly, “I never like to refer to it.
+You see, I killed a man the day that right-hand trail was made: I’ll
+tell you about it some other time.”
+
+“But why not now?” said Lucy, his curiosity aroused, as keen as a
+woman’s.
+
+“Some other day,” said Stubb. “But did you notice those three graves on
+the last ridge of sand-hills to the right as we came out of the
+Cimarron bottoms yesterday? You did? Their tenants were killed over
+that trail; you see now why I hate to refer to it, don’t you? I was
+afraid to go back to Texas for three years afterward.”
+
+“But why not tell me?” said the young man.
+
+“Oh,” said Stubb, as he knelt down to put a hobble on his horse, “it
+would injure my reputation as a peaceable citizen, and I don’t mind
+telling you that I expect to marry soon.”
+
+Having worked up the proper interest in his listener, besides exacting
+a promise that he would not repeat the story where it might do injury
+to him, he dragged his saddle up to the camp-fire. Making a comfortable
+seat with it, he riveted his gaze on the fire, and with a splendid
+sang-froid reluctantly told the history of the double trail.
+
+“You see,” began Stubb, “the Chisholm route had been used more or less
+for ten years. This right-hand trail was made in ’73. I bossed that
+year from Van Zandt County, for old Andy Erath, who, by the way, was a
+dead square cowman with not a hide-bound idea in his make-up. Son, it
+was a pleasure to know old Andy. You can tell he was a good man, for if
+he ever got a drink too much, though he would never mention her
+otherwise, he always praised his wife. I’ve been with him up beyond the
+Yellowstone, two thousand miles from home, and you always knew when the
+old man was primed. He would praise his wife, and would call on us boys
+to confirm the fact that Mary, his wife, was a good woman.
+
+“That year we had the better of twenty-nine hundred head, all steer
+cattle, threes and up, a likely bunch, better than these we are
+shadowing now. You see, my people are not driving this year, which is
+the reason that I am making a common hand with Inks. If I was to lay
+off a season, or go to the seacoast, I might forget the way. In those
+days I always hired my own men. The year that this right-hand trail was
+made, I had an outfit of men who would rather fight than eat; in fact,
+I selected them on account of their special fitness in the use of
+firearms. Why, Inks here couldn’t have cooked for my outfit that
+season, let alone rode. There was no particular incident worth
+mentioning till we struck Red River, where we overtook five or six
+herds that were laying over on account of a freshet in the river. I
+wouldn’t have a man those days who was not as good in the water as out.
+When I rode up to the river, one or two of my men were with me. It
+looked red and muddy and rolled just a trifle, but I ordered one of the
+boys to hit it on his horse, to see what it was like. Well, he never
+wet the seat of his saddle going or coming, though his horse was in
+swimming water good sixty yards. All the other bosses rode up, and each
+one examined his peg to see if the rise was falling. One fellow named
+Bob Brown, boss-man for John Blocker, asked me what I thought about the
+crossing. I said to him, ‘If this ferryman can cross our wagon for me,
+and you fellows will open out a little and let me in, I’ll show you all
+a crossing, and it’ll be no miracle either.’
+
+“Well, the ferryman said he’d set the wagon over, so the men went back
+to bring up the herd. They were delayed some little time, changing to
+their swimming horses. It was nearly an hour before the herd came up,
+the others opening out, so as to give us a clear field, in case of a
+mill or balk. I never had to give an order; my boys knew just what to
+do. Why, there’s men in this outfit right now that couldn’t have
+greased my wagon that year.
+
+“Well, the men on the points brought the herd to the water with a good
+head on, and before the leaders knew it, they were halfway across the
+channel, swimming like fish. The swing-men fed them in, free and
+plenty. Most of my outfit took to the water, and kept the cattle from
+drifting downstream. The boys from the other herds—good men, too—kept
+shooting them into the water, and inside fifteen minutes’ time we were
+in the big Injun Territory. After crossing the saddle stock and the
+wagon, I swam my horse back to the Texas side. I wanted to eat dinner
+with Blocker’s man, just to see how they fed. Might want to work for
+him some time, you see. I pretended that I’d help him over if he wanted
+to cross, but he said his dogies could never breast that water. I
+remarked to him at dinner, ‘You’re feeding a mite better this year,
+ain’t you?’ ‘Not that I can notice,’ he replied, as the cook handed him
+a tin plate heaping with navy beans, ‘and I’m eating rather regular
+with the wagon, too.’ I killed time around for a while, and then we
+rode down to the river together. The cattle had tramped out his peg, so
+after setting a new one, and pow-wowing around, I told him good-by and
+said to him, ‘Bob, old man, when I hit Dodge, I’ll take a drink and
+think of you back here on the trail, and regret that you are not with
+me, so as to make it two-handed.’ We said our ‘so-longs’ to each other,
+and I gave the gray his head and he took the water like a duck. He
+could outswim any horse I ever saw, but I drowned him in the Washita
+two weeks later. Yes, tangled his feet in some vines in a sunken
+treetop, and the poor fellow’s light went out. My own candle came near
+being snuffed. I never felt so bad over a little thing since I burned
+my new red topboots when I was a kid, as in drownding that horse.
+
+“There was nothing else worth mentioning until we struck the Cimarron
+back here, where we overtook a herd of Chisholm’s that had come in from
+the east. They had crossed through the Arbuckle Mountains—came in over
+the old Whiskey Trail. Here was another herd waterbound, and the
+boss-man was as important as a hen with one chicken. He told me that
+the river wouldn’t be fordable for a week; wanted me to fall back at
+least five miles; wanted all this river bottom for his cattle; said he
+didn’t need any help to cross his herd, though he thanked me for the
+offer with an air of contempt. I informed him that our cattle were sold
+for delivery on the North Platte, and that we wanted to go through on
+time. I assured him if he would drop his cattle a mile down the river,
+it would give us plenty of room. I told him plainly that our cattle,
+horses, and men could all swim, and that we never let a little thing
+like swimming water stop us.
+
+“No! No! he couldn’t do that; we might as well fall back and take our
+turn. ‘Oh, well,’ said I, ‘if you want to act contrary about it, I’ll
+go up to the King-Fisher crossing, only three miles above here. I’ve
+almost got time to cross yet this evening.’
+
+“Then he wilted and inquired, ‘Do you think I can cross if it swims
+them any?’
+
+“‘I’m not doing your thinking, sir,’ I answered, ‘but I’ll bring up
+eight or nine good men and help you rather than make a six-mile elbow.’
+I said this with some spirit and gave him a mean look.
+
+“‘All right,’ said he, ‘bring up your boys, say eight o’clock, and we
+will try the ford. Let me add right here,’ he continued, ‘and I’m a
+stranger to you, young man, but my outfit don’t take anybody’s slack,
+and as I am older than you, let me give you this little bit of advice:
+when you bring your men here in the morning, don’t let them whirl too
+big a loop, or drag their ropes looking for trouble, for I’ve got
+fellows with me that don’t turn out of the trail for anybody.’
+
+“‘All right, sir,’ I said. ‘Really, I’m glad to hear that you have some
+good men, still I’m pained to find them on the wrong side of the river
+for travelers. But I’ll be here in the morning,’ I called back as I
+rode away. So telling my boys that we were likely to have some fun in
+the morning, and what to expect, I gave it no further attention. When
+we were catching up our horses next morning for the day, I ordered two
+of my lads on herd, which was a surprise to them, as they were both
+handy with a gun. I explained it to them all,—that we wished to avoid
+trouble, but if it came up unavoidable, to overlook no bets—to copper
+every play as it fell.
+
+“We got to the river too early to suit Chisholm’s boss-man. He seemed
+to think that his cattle would take the water better about ten o’clock.
+To kill time my boys rode across and back several times to see what the
+water was like. ‘Well, any one that would let as little swimming water
+as that stop them must be a heap sight sorry outfit,’ remarked one-eyed
+Jim Reed, as he rode out of the river, dismounting to set his saddle
+forward and tighten his cinches, not noticing that this foreman heard
+him. I rode around and gave him a look, and he looked up at me and
+muttered, ‘Scuse me, boss, I plumb forgot!’ Then I rode back and
+apologized to this boss-man: ‘Don’t pay any attention to my boys; they
+are just showing off, and are a trifle windy this morning.’
+
+“‘That’s all right,’ he retorted, ‘but don’t forget what I told you
+yesterday, and let it be enough said.’
+
+“‘Well, let’s put the cattle in,’ I urged, seeing that he was getting
+hot under the collar. ‘We’re burning daylight, pardner.’
+
+“‘Well, I’m going to cross my wagon first,’ said he.
+
+“‘That’s a good idea,’ I answered. ‘Bring her up.’ Their cook seemed to
+have a little sense, for he brought up his wagon in good shape. We tied
+some guy ropes to the upper side, and taking long ropes from the end of
+the tongue to the pommels of our saddles, the ease with which we set
+that commissary over didn’t trouble any one but the boss-man, whose
+orders were not very distinct from the distance between banks. It was a
+good hour then before he would bring up his cattle. The main trouble
+seemed to be to devise means to keep their guns and cartridges dry, as
+though that was more important than getting the whole herd of nearly
+thirty-five hundred cattle over. We gave them a clean cloth until they
+needed us, but as they came up we divided out and were ready to give
+the lead a good push. If a cow changed his mind about taking a swim
+that morning, he changed it right back and took it. For in less than
+twenty minutes’ time they were all over, much to the surprise of the
+boss and his men; besides, their weapons were quite dry; just the
+splash had wet them.
+
+“I told the boss that we would not need any help to cross ours, but to
+keep well out of our way, as we would try and cross by noon, which
+ought to give him a good five-mile start. Well, we crossed and nooned,
+lying around on purpose to give them a good lead, and when we hit the
+trail back in these sand-hills, there he was, not a mile ahead, and you
+can see there was no chance to get around. I intended to take the Dodge
+trail, from this creek where we are now, but there we were, blocked in!
+I was getting a trifle wolfish over the way they were acting, so I rode
+forward to see what the trouble was.
+
+“‘Oh, I’m in no hurry. You’re driving too fast. This is your first
+trip, isn’t it?’ he inquired, as he felt of a pair of checked pants
+drying on the wagon wheel.
+
+“‘Don’t you let any idea like that disturb your Christian spirit, old
+man,’ I replied with some resentment. ‘But if you think I am driving
+too fast, you might suggest some creek where I could delude myself with
+the idea, for a week or so, that it was not fordable.’
+
+“Assuming an air of superiority he observed, ‘You seem to have forgot
+what I said to you yesterday.’
+
+“‘No, I haven’t,’ I answered, ‘but are you going to stay all night
+here?’
+
+“‘I certainly am, if that’s any satisfaction to you,’ he answered.
+
+“I got off my horse and asked him for a match, though I had plenty in
+my pocket, to light a cigarette which I had rolled during the
+conversation. I had no gun on, having left mine in our wagon, but
+fancied I’d stir him up and see how bad he really was. I thought it
+best to stroke him with and against the fur, try and keep on neutral
+ground, so I said,—
+
+“‘You ain’t figuring none that in case of a run to-night we’re a trifle
+close together for cow-herds. Besides, my men on a guard last night
+heard gray wolves in these sand-hills. They are liable to show up
+to-night. Didn’t I notice some young calves among your cattle this
+morning? Young calves, you know, make larruping fine eating for grays.’
+
+“‘Now, look here, Shorty,’ he said in a patronizing tone, as though he
+might let a little of his superior cow-sense shine in on my darkened
+intellect, ‘I haven’t asked you to crowd up here on me. You are
+perfectly at liberty to drop back to your heart’s content. If wolves
+bother us to-night, you stay in your blankets snug and warm, and
+pleasant dreams of old sweethearts on the Trinity to you. We won’t need
+you. We’ll try and worry along without you.’
+
+“Two or three of his men laughed gruffly at these remarks, and threw
+leer-eyed looks at me. I asked one who seemed bad, what calibre his gun
+was. ‘Forty-five ha’r trigger,’ he answered. I nosed around over their
+plunder purpose. They had things drying around like Bannock squaws
+jerking venison.
+
+“When I got on my horse, I said to the boss, ‘I want to pass your
+outfit in the morning, as you are in no hurry and I am.’
+
+“‘That will depend,’ said he.
+
+“‘Depend on what?’ I asked.
+
+“‘Depend on whether we are willing to let you,’ he snarled.
+
+“I gave him as mean a look as I could command and said tauntingly,
+‘Now, look here, old girl: there’s no occasion for you to tear your
+clothes with me this way. Besides, I sometimes get on the prod myself,
+and when I do, I don’t bar no man, Jew nor Gentile, horse, mare or
+gelding. You may think different, but I’m not afraid of any man in your
+outfit, from the gimlet to the big auger. I’ve tried to treat you
+white, but I see I’ve failed. Now I want to give it out to you straight
+and cold, that I’ll pass you to-morrow, or mix two herds trying. Think
+it over to-night and nominate your choice—be a gentleman or a hog. Let
+your own sweet will determine which.’
+
+“I rode away in a walk, to give them a chance to say anything they
+wanted to, but there were no further remarks. My men were all hopping
+mad when I told them, but I promised them that to-morrow we would fix
+them plenty or use up our supply of cartridges if necessary. We dropped
+back a mile off the trail and camped for the night. Early the next
+morning I sent one of my boys out on the highest sand dune to Injun
+around and see what they were doing. After being gone for an hour he
+came back and said they had thrown their cattle off the bed-ground up
+the trail, and were pottering around like as they aimed to move.
+Breakfast over, I sent him back again to make sure, for I wanted yet to
+avoid trouble if they didn’t draw it on. It was another hour before he
+gave us the signal to come on. We were nicely strung out where you saw
+those graves on that last ridge of sand-hills, when there they were
+about a mile ahead of us, moseying along. This side of Chapman’s, the
+Indian trader’s store, the old route turns to the right and follows up
+this black-jack ridge. We kept up close, and just as soon as they
+turned in to the right,—the only trail there was then,—we threw off the
+course and came straight ahead, cross-country style, same route we came
+over to-day, except there was no trail there; we had to make a new one.
+
+“Now they watched us a plenty, but it seemed they couldn’t make out our
+game. When we pulled up even with them, half a mile apart, they tumbled
+that my bluff of the day before was due to take effect without further
+notice. Then they began to circle and ride around, and one fellow went
+back, only hitting the high places, to their wagon and saddle horses,
+and they were brought up on a trot. We were by this time three quarters
+of a mile apart, when the boss of their outfit was noticed riding out
+toward us. Calling one of my men, we rode out and met him halfway.
+‘Young man, do you know just what you are trying to do?’ he asked.
+
+“‘I think I do. You and myself as cowmen don’t pace in the same class,
+as you will see, if you will only watch the smoke of our tepee. Watch
+us close, and I’ll pass you between here and the next water.’
+
+“‘We will see you in hell first!’ he said, as he whirled his horse and
+galloped back to his men. The race was on in a brisk walk. His wagon,
+we noticed, cut in between the herds, until it reached the lead of his
+cattle, when it halted suddenly, and we noticed that they were cutting
+off a dry cowskin that swung under the wagon. At the same time two of
+his men cut out a wild steer, and as he ran near their wagon one of
+them roped and the other heeled him. It was neatly done. I called Big
+Dick, my boss roper, and told him what I suspected,—that they were
+going to try and stampede us with a dry cowskin tied to that steer’s
+tail they had down. As they let him up, it was clear I had called the
+turn, as they headed him for our herd, the flint thumping at his heels.
+Dick rode out in a lope, and I signaled for my crowd to come on and we
+would back Dick’s play. As we rode out together, I said to my boys,
+‘The stuff’s off, fellows! Shoot, and shoot to hurt!’
+
+“It seemed their whole outfit was driving that one steer, and turning
+the others loose to graze. Dick never changed the course of that steer,
+but let him head for ours, and as they met and passed, he turned his
+horse and rode onto him as though he was a post driven in the ground.
+Whirling a loop big enough to take in a yoke of oxen, he dropped it
+over his off fore shoulder, took up his slack rope, and when that steer
+went to the end of the rope, he was thrown in the air and came down on
+his head with a broken neck. Dick shook the rope off the dead steer’s
+forelegs without dismounting, and was just beginning to coil his rope
+when those varmints made a dash at him, shooting and yelling.
+
+“That called for a counter play on our part, except our aim was low,
+for if we didn’t get a man, we were sure to leave one afoot. Just for a
+minute the air was full of smoke. Two horses on our side went down
+before you could say ‘Jack Robinson,’ but the men were unhurt, and soon
+flattened themselves on the ground Indian fashion, and burnt the grass
+in a half-circle in front of them. When everybody had emptied his gun,
+each outfit broke back to its wagon to reload. Two of my men came back
+afoot, each claiming that he had got his man all right, all right. We
+were no men shy, which was lucky. Filling our guns with cartridges out
+of our belts, we rode out to reconnoitre and try and get the boys’
+saddles.
+
+“The first swell of the ground showed us the field. There were the dead
+steer, and five or six horses scattered around likewise, but the grass
+was too high to show the men that we felt were there. As the opposition
+was keeping close to their wagon, we rode up to the scene of carnage.
+While some of the boys were getting the saddles off the dead horses, we
+found three men taking their last nap in the grass. I recognized them
+as the boss-man, the fellow with the ha’r-trigger gun, and a fool kid
+that had two guns on him when we were crossing their cattle the day
+before. One gun wasn’t plenty to do the fighting he was hankering for;
+he had about as much use for two guns as a toad has for a stinger.
+
+“The boys got the saddles off the dead horses, and went flying back to
+our men afoot, and then rejoined us. The fight seemed over, or there
+was some hitch in the programme, for we could see them hovering near
+their wagon, tearing up white biled shirts out of a trunk and bandaging
+up arms and legs, that they hadn’t figured on any. Our herd had been
+overlooked during the scrimmage, and had scattered so that I had to
+send one man and the horse wrangler to round them in. We had ten men
+left, and it was beginning to look as though hostilities had ceased by
+mutual consent. You can see, son, we didn’t bring it on. We turned over
+the dead steer, and he proved to be a stray; at least he hadn’t their
+road brand on. One-eyed Jim said the ranch brand belonged in San Saba
+County; he knew it well, the X—2. Well, it wasn’t long until our men
+afoot got a remount and only two horses shy on the first round. We
+could stand another on the same terms in case they attacked us. We rode
+out on a little hill about a quarter-mile from their wagon, scattering
+out so as not to give them a pot shot, in case they wanted to renew the
+unpleasantness.
+
+“When they saw us there, one fellow started toward us, waving his
+handkerchief. We began speculating which one it was, but soon made him
+out to be the cook; his occupation kept him out of the first round.
+When he came within a hundred yards, I rode out and met him. He offered
+me his hand and said, ‘We are in a bad fix. Two of our crowd have bad
+flesh wounds. Do you suppose we could get any whiskey back at this
+Indian trader’s store?’
+
+“‘If there is any man in this territory can get any I can if they have
+it,’ I told him. ‘Besides, if your lay-out has had all the satisfaction
+fighting they want, we’ll turn to and give you a lift. It seems like
+you all have some dead men over back here. They will have to be
+planted. So if your outfit feel as though you had your belly-full of
+fighting for the present, consider us at your service. You’re the cook,
+ain’t you?’
+
+“‘Yes, sir,’ he answered. ‘Are all three dead?’ he then inquired.
+
+“‘Dead as heck,’ I told him.
+
+“‘Well, we are certainly in a bad box,’ said he meditatingly. ‘But
+won’t you all ride over to our wagon with me? I think our fellows are
+pacified for the present.’
+
+“I motioned to our crowd, and we all rode over to their wagon with him.
+There wasn’t a gun in sight. The ragged edge of despair don’t describe
+them. I made them a little talk; told them that their boss had cashed
+in, back over the hill; also if there was any segundo in their outfit,
+the position of big augur was open to him, and we were at his service.
+
+“There wasn’t a man among them that had any sense left but the cook. He
+told me to take charge of the killed, and if I could rustle a little
+whiskey to do so. So I told the cook to empty out his wagon, and we
+would take the dead ones back, make boxes for them, and bury them at
+the store. Then I sent three of my men back to the store to have the
+boxes ready and dig the graves. Before these three rode away, I said,
+aside to Jim, who was one of them, ‘Don’t bother about any whiskey;
+branch water is plenty nourishing for the wounded. It would be a sin
+and shame to waste good liquor on plafry like them.’
+
+“The balance of us went over to the field of carnage and stripped the
+saddles off their dead horses, and arranged the departed in a row,
+covering them with saddle blankets, pending the planting act. I sent
+part of my boys with our wagon to look after our own cattle for the
+day. It took us all the afternoon to clean up a minute’s work in the
+morning.
+
+“I never like to refer to it. Fact was, all the boys felt gloomy for
+weeks, but there was no avoiding it. Two months later, we met old man
+Andy, way up at Fort Laramie on the North Platte. He was tickled to
+death to meet us all. The herd had come through in fine condition. We
+never told him anything about this until the cattle were delivered, and
+we were celebrating the success of that drive at a near-by town.
+
+“Big Dick told him about this incident, and the old man feeling his
+oats, as he leaned with his back against the bar, said to us with a
+noticeable degree of pride, ‘Lads, I’m proud of every one of you. Men
+who will fight to protect my interests has my purse at their command.
+This year’s drive has been a success. Next year we will drive twice as
+many. I want every rascal of you to work for me. You all know how I
+mount, feed, and pay my men, and as long as my name is Erath and I own
+a cow, you can count on a job with me.’”
+
+“But why did you take them back to the sand-hills to bury them?” cut in
+Lucy.
+
+“Oh, that was Big Dick’s idea. He thought the sand would dig easier,
+and laziness guided every act of his life. That was five years ago,
+son, that this lower trail was made, and for the reasons I have just
+given you. No, I can’t tell you any more personal experiences to-night;
+I’m too sleepy.”
+
+
+
+
+VII
+RANGERING
+
+
+No State in the Union was ever called upon to meet and deal with the
+criminal element as was Texas. She was border territory upon her
+admission to the sisterhood of States.
+
+An area equal to four ordinary States, and a climate that permitted of
+outdoor life the year round, made it a desirable rendezvous for
+criminals. The sparsely settled condition of the country, the flow of
+immigration being light until the seventies, was an important factor.
+The fugitives from justice of the older States with a common impulse
+turned toward this empire of isolation. Europe contributed her quota,
+more particularly from the south, bringing with them the Mafia and
+vendetta. Once it was the Ultima Thule of the criminal western world.
+From the man who came for not building a church to the one who had
+taken human life, the catalogue of crime was fully represented.
+
+Humorous writers tell us that it was a breach of good manners to ask a
+man his name, or what State he was from, or to examine the brand on his
+horse very particularly. It can be safely said that there was a great
+amount of truth mingled with the humor. Some of these fugitives from
+justice became good citizens, but the majority sooner or later took up
+former callings.
+
+Along with this criminal immigration came the sturdy settler, the man
+intent on building a home and establishing a fireside. Usually
+following lines of longitude, he came from other Southern States. He
+also brought with him the fortitude of the pioneer that reclaims the
+wilderness and meets any emergency that confronts him. To meet and deal
+with this criminal element as a matter of necessity soon became an
+important consideration. His only team of horses was frequently stolen.
+His cattle ran off their range, their ear-marks altered and brands
+changed. Frequently it was a band of neighbors, together in a posse,
+who followed and brought to bay the marauders. It was an unlucky moment
+for a horse-thief when he was caught in possession of another man’s
+horse. The impromptu court of emergency had no sentiment in regard to
+passing sentence of death. It was a question of guilt, and when that
+was established, Judge Lynch passed sentence.
+
+As the State advanced, the authorities enlisted small companies of men
+called Rangers. The citizens’ posse soon gave way to this organized
+service. The companies, few in number at first, were gradually
+increased until the State had over a dozen companies in the field.
+These companies numbered anywhere from ten to sixty men. It can be said
+with no discredit to the State that there were never half enough
+companies of men for the work before them.
+
+There was a frontier on the south and west of over two thousand miles
+to be guarded. A fair specimen of the large things in that State was a
+shoe-string congressional district, over eleven hundred miles long. To
+the Ranger, then, is all credit due for guarding this western frontier
+against the Indians and making life and the possession of property a
+possibility. On the south was to be met the bandit, the smuggler, and
+every grade of criminal known to the code.
+
+A generation had come and gone before the Ranger’s work was fairly
+done. The emergency demanded brave men. They were ready. Not
+necessarily born to the soil, as a boy the guardian of the frontier was
+expert in the use of firearms, and in the saddle a tireless rider. As
+trailers many of them were equal to hounds. In the use of that arbiter
+of the frontier, the six-shooter, they were artists. As a class, never
+before or since have their equals in the use of that arm come forward
+to question this statement.
+
+The average criminal, while familiar with firearms, was as badly
+handicapped as woman would be against man. The Ranger had no equal. The
+emergency that produced him no longer existing, he will never have a
+successor. Any attempt to copy the original would be hopeless
+imitation. He was shot at at short range oftener than he received his
+monthly wage. He admired the criminal that would fight, and despised
+one that would surrender on demand. He would nurse back to life a
+dead-game man whom his own shot had brought to earth, and give a coward
+the chance to run any time if he so desired.
+
+He was compelled to lead a life in the open and often descend to the
+level of the criminal. He had few elements in his makeup, and but a
+single purpose; but that one purpose—to rid the State of crime—he
+executed with a vengeance. He was poorly paid for the service rendered.
+Frequently there was no appropriation with which to pay him; then he
+lived by rewards and the friendship of ranchmen.
+
+The Ranger always had a fresh horse at his command,—no one thought of
+refusing him this. Rust-proof, rugged, and tireless, he gave the State
+protection for life and property. The emergency had produced the man.
+
+“Here, take my glass and throw down on that grove of timber yonder, and
+notice if there is any sign of animal life to be seen,” said Sergeant
+“Smoky” C——, addressing “Ramrod,” a private in Company X of the Texas
+Rangers. The sergeant and the four men had been out on special duty,
+and now we had halted after an all night’s ride looking for shade and
+water,—the latter especially. We had two prisoners, (horse-thieves),
+some extra saddle stock, and three pack mules.
+
+It was an hour after sun-up. We had just come out of the foothills,
+where the Brazos has its source, and before us lay the plains, dusty
+and arid. This grove of green timber held out a hope that within it
+might be found what we wanted. Eyesight is as variable as men, but
+Ramrod’s was known to be reliable for five miles with the naked eye,
+and ten with the aid of a good glass. He dismounted at the sergeant’s
+request, and focused the glass on this oasis, and after sweeping the
+field for a minute or so, remarked languidly, “There must be water
+there. I can see a band of antelope grazing out from the grove. Hold
+your mules! Something is raising a dust over to the south. Good! It’s
+cattle coming to the water.”
+
+While he was covering the field with his glass, two of the boys were
+threatening with eternal punishment the pack mules, which showed an
+energetic determination to lie down and dislodge their packs by
+rolling.
+
+“Cut your observations short as possible there, Ramrod, or there will
+be re-packing to do. Mula, you hybrid son of your father, don’t you
+dare to lie down!”
+
+But Ramrod’s observations were cut short at sight of the cattle, and we
+pushed out for the grove, about seven miles distant. As we rode this
+short hour’s ride, numerous small bands of antelope were startled, and
+in turn stood and gazed at us in bewilderment.
+
+“I’m not tasty,” said Sergeant Smoky, “but I would give the preference
+this morning to a breakfast of a well-roasted side of ribs of a nice
+yearling venison over the salt hoss that the Lone Star State furnishes
+this service. Have we no hunters with us?”
+
+“Let me try,” begged a little man we called “Cushion-foot.” What his
+real name was none of us knew. The books, of course, would show some
+name, and then you were entitled to a guess. He was as quiet as a
+mouse, as reliable as he was quiet, and as noiseless in his movements
+as a snake. One of the boys went with him, making quite a detour from
+our course, but always remaining in sight. About two miles out from the
+grove, we sighted a small band of five or six antelope, who soon took
+fright and ran to the nearest elevation. Here they made a stand about
+half a mile distant. We signaled to our hunters, who soon spotted them
+and dismounted. We could see Cushion sneaking through the short grass
+like a coyote, “Conajo” leading the horses, well hidden between them.
+We held the antelopes’ attention by riding around in a circle, flagging
+them. Several times Cushion lay flat, and we thought he was going to
+risk a long shot. Then he would crawl forward like a cat, but finally
+came to his knee. We saw the little puff, the band squatted, jumping to
+one side far enough to show one of their number down and struggling in
+the throes of death.
+
+“Good long shot, little man,” said the sergeant, “and you may have the
+choice of cuts, just so I get a rib.”
+
+We saw Conajo mount and ride up on a gallop, but we held our course for
+the grove. We were busy making camp when the two rode in with a fine
+two-year-old buck across the pommel of Cushion’s saddle. They had only
+disemboweled him, but Conajo had the heart as a trophy of the accuracy
+of the shot, though Cushion hadn’t a word to say. It was a splendid
+heart shot. Conajo took it over and showed it to the two Mexican
+prisoners. It was an object lesson to them. One said to the other, “Es
+un buen tirador.”
+
+We put the prisoners to roasting the ribs, and making themselves useful
+in general. One man guarded them at their work, while all the others
+attended to the hobbling and other camp duties.
+
+It proved to be a delightful camp. We aimed to stay until sunset, the
+days being sultry and hot. Our appetites were equal to the breakfast,
+and it was a good one.
+
+“To do justice to an occasion like this,” said Smoky as he squatted
+down with about four ribs in his hand, “a man by rights ought to have
+at least three fingers of good liquor under his belt. But then we can’t
+have all the luxuries of life in the far West; sure to be something
+lacking.”
+
+“I never hear a man hanker for liquor,” said Conajo, as he poured out a
+tin cup of coffee, “but I think of an incident my father used to tell
+us boys at home. He was sheriff in Kentucky before we moved to Texas.
+Was sheriff in the same county for twelve years. Counties are very
+irregular back in the old States. Some look like a Mexican brand. One
+of the rankest, rabid political admirers my father had lived away out
+on a spur of this county. He lived good thirty miles from the county
+seat. Didn’t come to town over twice a year, but he always stopped,
+generally over night, at our house. My father wouldn’t have it any
+other way. Talk about thieves being chummy; why, these two we have here
+couldn’t hold a candle to that man and my father. I can see them
+parting just as distinctly as though it was yesterday. He would always
+abuse my father for not coming to see him. ‘Sam,’ he would say,—my
+father’s name was Sam,—‘Sam, why on earth is it that you never come to
+see me? I’ve heard of you within ten miles of my plantation, and you
+have never shown your face to us once. Do you think we can’t entertain
+you? Why, Sam, I’ve known you since you weren’t big enough to lead a
+hound dog. I’ve known you since you weren’t knee to a grasshopper.’
+
+“‘Let me have a word,’ my father would put in, for he was very mild in
+speaking; ‘let me have a word, Joe. I hope you don’t think for a moment
+that I wouldn’t like to visit you; now do you?’
+
+“‘No, I don’t think so, Sam, but you don’t come. That’s why I’m
+complaining. You never have come in the whole ten years you’ve been
+sheriff, and you know that we have voted for you to a man, in our neck
+of the woods.’ My father felt this last remark, though I think he never
+realized its gravity before, but he took him by one hand, and laying
+the other on his shoulder said, ‘Joe, if I have slighted you in the
+past, I’m glad you have called my attention to it. Now, let me tell you
+the first time that my business takes me within ten miles of your place
+I’ll make it a point to reach your house and stay all night, and longer
+if I can.’
+
+“‘That’s all I ask, Sam,’ was his only reply. Now I’ve learned lots of
+the ways of the world since then. I’ve seen people pleasant to each
+other, and behind their backs the tune changed. But I want to say to
+you fellows that those two old boys were not throwing off on each
+other—not a little bit. They meant every word and meant it deep. It was
+months afterwards, and father had been gone for a week when he came
+home. He told us about his visit to Joe Evans. It was winter time, and
+mother and us boys were sitting around the old fireplace in the
+evening. ‘I never saw him so embarrassed before in my life,’ said
+father. ‘I did ride out of my way, but I was glad of the chance. Men
+like Joe Evans are getting scarce.’ He nodded to us boys. ‘It was
+nearly dark when I rode up to his gate. He recognized me and came down
+to the gate to meet me. “Howdy, Sam,” was all he said. There was a
+troubled expression in his face, though he looked well enough, but he
+couldn’t simply look me in the face. Just kept his eye on the ground.
+He motioned for a nigger boy and said to him, “Take his horse.” He
+started to lead the way up the path, when I stopped him. “Look here,
+Joe,” I said to him. “Now, if there’s anything wrong, anything likely
+to happen in the family, I can just as well drop back on the pike and
+stay all night with some of the neighbors. You know I’m acquainted all
+around here.” He turned in the path, and there was the most painful
+look in his face I ever saw as he spoke: “Hell, no, Sam, there’s
+nothing wrong. We’ve got plenty to eat, plenty of beds, no end of
+horse-feed, but by G——, Sam, there isn’t a drop of whiskey on the
+place!”’
+
+“You see it was hoss and cabello, and Joe seemed to think the hoss on
+him was an unpardonable offense. Salt? You’ll find it in an empty
+one-spoon baking-powder can over there. In those panniers that belong
+to that big sorrel mule. Look at Mexico over there burying his fangs in
+the venison, will you?”
+
+Ramrod was on guard, but he was so hungry himself that he was good
+enough to let the prisoners eat at the same time, although he kept them
+at a respectable distance. He was old in the service, and had gotten
+his name under a baptism of fire. He was watching a pass once for
+smugglers at a point called Emigrant Gap. This was long before he had
+come to the present company. At length the man he was waiting for came
+along. Ramrod went after him at close quarters, but the fellow was game
+and drew his gun. When the smoke cleared away, Ramrod had brought down
+his horse and winged his man right and left. The smuggler was not far
+behind on the shoot, for Ramrod’s coat and hat showed he was calling
+for him. The captain was joshing the prisoner about his poor shooting
+when Ramrod brought him into camp and they were dressing his wounds.
+“Well,” said the fellow, “I tried to hard enough, but I couldn’t find
+him. He’s built like a ramrod.”
+
+After breakfast was over we smoked and yarned. It would be two-hour
+guards for the day, keeping an eye on the prisoners and stock, only one
+man required; so we would all get plenty of sleep. Conajo had the first
+guard after breakfast. “I remember once,” said Sergeant Smoky, as he
+crushed a pipe of twist with the heel of his hand, “we were camped out
+on the ‘Sunset’ railway. I was a corporal at the time. There came a
+message one day to our captain, to send a man up West on that line to
+take charge of a murderer. The result was, I was sent by the first
+train to this point. When I arrived I found that an Irishman had killed
+a Chinaman. It was on the railroad, at a bridge construction camp, that
+the fracas took place. There were something like a hundred employees at
+the camp, and they ran their own boarding-tent. They had a Chinese cook
+at this camp; in fact, quite a number of Chinese were employed at
+common labor on the road.
+
+“Some cavalryman, it was thought, in passing up and down from Fort
+Stockton to points on the river, had lost his sabre, and one of this
+bridge gang had found it. When it was brought into camp no one would
+have the old corn-cutter; but this Irishman took a shine to it, having
+once been a soldier himself. The result was, it was presented to him.
+He ground it up like a machette, and took great pride in giving
+exhibitions with it. He was an old man now, the storekeeper for the
+iron supplies, a kind of trusty job. The old sabre renewed his youth to
+a certain extent, for he used it in self-defense shortly afterwards.
+This Erin-go-bragh—his name was McKay, I think—was in the habit now and
+then of stealing a pie from the cook, and taking it into his own tent
+and eating it there. The Chink kept missing his pies, and got a helper
+to spy out the offender. The result was they caught the old man
+red-handed in the act. The Chink armed himself with the biggest
+butcher-knife he had and went on the warpath. He found the old fellow
+sitting in his storeroom contentedly eating the pie. The old man had
+his eyes on the cook, and saw the knife just in time to jump behind
+some kegs of nuts and bolts. The Chink followed him with murder in his
+eye, and as the old man ran out of the tent he picked up the old sabre.
+Once clear of the tent he turned and faced him, made only one pass, and
+cut his head off as though he were beheading a chicken. They hadn’t yet
+buried the Chinaman when I got there. I’m willing to testify it was an
+artistic job. They turned the old man over to me, and I took him down
+to the next station, where an old alcalde lived,—Roy Bean by name. This
+old judge was known as ‘Law west of the Pecos,’ as he generally
+construed the law to suit his own opinion of the offense. He wasn’t
+even strong on testimony. He was a ranchman at this time, so when I
+presented my prisoner he only said, ‘Killed a Chinese, did he? Well, I
+ain’t got time to try the case to-day. Cattle suffering for water, and
+three windmills out of repair. Bring him back in the morning.’ I took
+the old man back to the hotel, and we had a jolly good time together
+that day. I never put a string on him, only locked the door, but we
+slept together. The next morning I took him before the alcalde. Bean
+held court in an outhouse, the prisoner seated on a bale of flint
+hides. Bean was not only judge but prosecutor, as well as counsel for
+the defense. ‘Killed a Chinaman, did you?’
+
+“‘I did, yer Honor,’ was the prisoner’s reply.
+
+“I suggested to the court that the prisoner be informed of his rights,
+that he need not plead guilty unless he so desired.
+
+“‘That makes no difference here,’ said the court. ‘Gentlemen, I’m busy
+this morning. I’ve got to raise the piping out of a two-hundred-foot
+well to-day,—something the matter with the valve at the bottom. I’ll
+just glance over the law a moment.’
+
+“He rummaged over a book or two for a few moments and then said, ‘Here,
+I reckon this is near enough. I find in the revised statute before me,
+in the killing of a nigger the offending party was fined five dollars.
+A Chinaman ought to be half as good as a nigger. Stand up and receive
+your sentence. What’s your name?’
+
+“‘Jerry McKay, your Honor.’
+
+“Just then the court noticed one of the vaqueros belonging to the ranch
+standing in the door, hat in hand, and he called to him in Spanish,
+‘Have my horse ready, I’ll be through here just in a minute.’
+
+“‘McKay,’ said the court as he gave him a withering look, ‘I’ll fine
+you two dollars and a half and costs. Officer, take charge of the
+prisoner until it’s paid!’ It took about ten dollars to cover
+everything, which I paid, McKay returning it when he reached his camp.
+Whoever named that alcalde ‘Law west of the Pecos’ knew his man.”
+
+“I’ll bet a twist of dog,” said Ramrod, “that prisoner with the black
+whiskers sabes English. Did you notice him paying strict attention to
+Smoky’s little talk? He reminds me of a fellow that crouched behind his
+horse at the fight we had on the head of the Arroyo Colorado and
+plugged me in the shoulder. What, you never heard of it? That’s so,
+Cushion hasn’t been with us but a few months. Well, it was in ’82, down
+on the river, about fifty miles northwest of Brownsville. Word came in
+one day that a big band of horse-thieves were sweeping the country of
+every horse they could gather. There was a number of the old Cortina’s
+gang known to be still on the rustle. When this report came, it found
+eleven men in camp. We lost little time saddling up, only taking five
+days’ rations with us, for they were certain to recross the river
+before that time in case we failed to intercept them. Every Mexican in
+the country was terrorized. All they could tell us was that there was
+plenty of ladrones and lots of horses, ‘muchos’ being the qualifying
+word as to the number of either.
+
+“It was night before we came to their trail, and to our surprise they
+were heading inland, to the north. They must have had a contract to
+supply the Mexican army with cavalry horses. They were simply sweeping
+the country, taking nothing but gentle stock. These they bucked in
+strings, and led. That made easy trailing, as each string left a
+distinct trail. The moon was splendid that night, and we trailed as
+easily as though it had been day. We didn’t halt all night long on
+either trail, pegging along at a steady gait, that would carry us
+inland some distance before morning. Our scouts aroused every ranch
+within miles that we passed on the way, only to have reports
+exaggerated as usual. One thing we did learn that night, and that was
+that the robbers were led by a white man. He was described in the
+superlatives that the Spanish language possesses abundantly; everything
+from the horse he rode to the solid braid on his sombrero was described
+in the same strain. But that kind of prize was the kind we were looking
+for.
+
+“On the head of the Arroyo Colorado there is a broken country
+interspersed with glades and large openings. We felt very sure that the
+robbers would make camp somewhere in that country. When day broke the
+freshness of the trail surprised and pleased us. They couldn’t be far
+away. Before an hour passed, we noticed a smoke cloud hanging low in
+the morning air about a mile ahead. We dismounted and securely tied our
+horses and pack stock. Every man took all the cartridges he could use,
+and was itching for the chance to use them. We left the trail, and to
+conceal ourselves took to the brush or dry arroyos as a protection
+against alarming the quarry. They were a quarter of a mile off when we
+first sighted them. We began to think the reports were right, for there
+seemed no end of horses, and at least twenty-five men. By dropping back
+we could gain one of those dry arroyos which would bring us within one
+hundred yards of their camp. A young fellow by the name of Rusou, a
+crack shot, was acting captain in the absence of our officers. As we
+backed into the arroyo he said to us, ‘If there’s a white man there,
+leave him to me.’ We were all satisfied that he would be cared for
+properly at Rusou’s hands, and silence gave consent.
+
+“Opposite the camp we wormed out of the arroyo like a skirmish line,
+hugging the ground for the one remaining little knoll between the
+robbers and ourselves. I was within a few feet of Rusou as we sighted
+the camp about seventy-five yards distant. We were trying to make out a
+man that was asleep, at least he had his hat over his face, lying on a
+blanket with his head in a saddle. We concluded he was a white man, if
+there was one. Our survey of their camp was cut short by two shots
+fired at us by two pickets of theirs posted to our left about one
+hundred yards. No one was hit, but the sleeping man jumped to his feet
+with a six-shooter in each hand. I heard Rusou say to himself, ‘You’re
+too late, my friend.’ His carbine spoke, and the fellow fell forward,
+firing both guns into the ground at his feet as he went down.
+
+“Then the stuff was off and she opened up in earnest. They fought all
+right. I was on my knee pumping lead for dear life, and as I threw my
+carbine down to refill the magazine, a bullet struck it in the heel of
+the magazine with sufficient force to knock me backward. I thought I
+was hit for an instant, but it passed away in a moment. When I tried to
+work the lever I saw that my carbine was ruined. I called to the boys
+to notice a fellow with black whiskers who was shooting from behind his
+horse. He would shoot over and under alternately. I thought he was
+shooting at me. I threw down my carbine and drew my six-shooter. Just
+then I got a plug in the shoulder, and things got dizzy and dark. It
+caught me an inch above the nipple, ranging upward,—shooting from
+under, you see. But some of the boys must have noticed him, for he
+decorated the scene badly leaded, when it was over. I was unconscious
+for a few minutes, and when I came around the fight had ended.
+
+“During the few brief moments that I was knocked out, our boys had
+closed in on them and mixed it with them at short range. The thieves
+took to such horses as they could lay their hands on, and one fellow
+went no farther. A six-shooter halted him at fifty yards. The boys
+rounded up over a hundred horses, each one with a fiber grass halter
+on, besides killing over twenty wounded ones to put them out of their
+misery.
+
+“It was a nasty fight. Two of our own boys were killed and three were
+wounded. But then you ought to have seen the other fellows; we took no
+prisoners that day. Nine men lay dead. Horses were dead and dying all
+around, and the wounded ones were crying in agony.
+
+“This white man proved to be a typical dandy, a queer leader for such a
+gang. He was dressed in buckskin throughout, while his sombrero was as
+fine as money could buy. You can know it was a fine one, for it was
+sold for company prize money, and brought three hundred and fifty
+dollars. He had nearly four thousand dollars on his person and in his
+saddle. A belt which we found on him had eleven hundred in bills and
+six hundred in good old yellow gold. The silver in the saddle was
+mixed, Mexican and American about equally.
+
+“He had as fine a gold watch in his pocket as you ever saw, while his
+firearms and saddle were beauties. He was a dandy all right, and a
+fine-looking man, over six feet tall, with swarthy complexion and hair
+like a raven’s wing. He was too nice a man for the company he was in.
+We looked the ‘Black Book’ over afterward for any description of him.
+At that time there were over four thousand criminals and outlaws
+described in it, but there was no description that would fit him. For
+this reason we supposed that he must live far in the interior of
+Mexico.
+
+“Our saddle stock was brought up, and our wounded were bandaged as best
+they could be. My wound was the worst, so they concluded to send me
+back. One of the boys went with me, and we made a fifty-mile ride
+before we got medical attention. While I was in the hospital I got my
+divvy of the prize money, something over four hundred dollars.”
+
+When Ramrod had finished his narrative, he was compelled to submit to a
+cross-examination at the hands of Cushion-foot, for he delighted in a
+skirmish. All his questions being satisfactorily answered, Cushion-foot
+drew up his saddle alongside of where Ramrod lay stretched on a
+blanket, and seated himself. This was a signal to the rest of us that
+he had a story, so we drew near, for he spoke so low that you must be
+near to hear him. His years on the frontier were rich in experience,
+though he seldom referred to them.
+
+Addressing himself to Ramrod, he began: “You might live amongst these
+border Mexicans all your life and think you knew them; but every day
+you live you’ll see new features about them. You can’t calculate on
+them with any certainty. What they ought to do by any system of
+reasoning they never do. They will steal an article and then give it
+away. You’ve heard the expression ‘robbing Peter to pay Paul.’ Well, my
+brother played the rôle of Paul once himself. It was out in Arizona at
+a place called Las Palomas. He was a stripling of a boy, but could
+palaver Spanish in a manner that would make a Mexican ashamed of his
+ancestry. He was about eighteen at this time and was working in a
+store. One morning as he stepped outside the store, where he slept, he
+noticed quite a commotion over around the custom-house. He noticed that
+the town was full of strangers, as he crossed over toward the crowd. He
+was suddenly halted and searched by a group of strange men. Fortunately
+he had no arms on him, and his ability to talk to them, together with
+his boyish looks, ingratiated him in their favor, and they simply made
+him their prisoner. Just at that moment an alcalde rode up to the group
+about him, and was ordered to halt. He saw at a glance they were
+revolutionists, and whirling his mount attempted to escape, when one of
+them shot him from his horse. The young fellow then saw what he was
+into.
+
+“They called themselves Timochis. They belonged in Mexico, and a year
+or so before they refused to pay taxes that the Mexican government
+levied on them, and rebelled. Their own government sent soldiers after
+them, resulting in about eight hundred soldiers being killed, when they
+dispersed into small bands, one of which was paying Las Palomas a
+social call that morning. Along the Rio Grande it is only a short step
+at best from revolution to robbery, and either calling has its
+variations.
+
+“Well, they took my brother with them to act as spokesman in looting
+the town. The custom-house was a desired prize, and when my brother
+interpreted their desires to the collector, he consented to open the
+safe, as life had charms for him, even in Arizona. Uncle Sam’s
+strong-box yielded up over a thousand dobes. They turned their
+attention to the few small stores of the town, looting them of the
+money and goods as they went. There was quite a large store kept by a
+Frenchman, who refused to open, when he realized that the Timochi was
+honoring the town with his presence. They put the boy in the front and
+ordered him to call on the Frenchman to open up. He said afterward that
+he put in a word for himself, telling him not to do any shooting
+through the door. After some persuasion the store was opened and proved
+to be quite a prize. Then they turned their attention to the store
+where the boy worked. He unlocked it and waved them in. He went into
+the cellar and brought up half a dozen bottles of imported French
+Cognac, and invited the chief bandit and his followers to be good
+enough to join him. In the mean time they had piled up on the counters
+such things as they wanted. They made no money demand on him, the chief
+asking him to set a price on the things they were taking. He made a
+hasty inventory of the goods and gave the chief the figures, about one
+hundred and ten dollars. The chief opened a sack that they had taken
+from the custom-house and paid the bill with a flourish.
+
+“The chief then said that he had a favor to ask: that my brother should
+cheer for the revolutionists, to identify him as a friend. That was
+easy, so he mounted the counter and gave three cheers of ‘Viva los
+Timochis!’ He got down off the counter, took the bandit by the arm, and
+led him to the rear, where with glasses in the air they drank to ‘Viva
+los Timochis!’ again. Then the chief and his men withdrew and recrossed
+the river. It was the best day’s trade he had had in a long time. Now,
+here comes in the native. While the boy did everything from compulsion
+and policy, the native element looked upon him with suspicion. The
+owners of the store, knowing that this suspicion existed, advised him
+to leave, and he did.”
+
+The two prisoners were sleeping soundly. Sleep comes easily to tired
+men, and soon all but the solitary guard were wrapped in sleep, to
+fight anew in rangers’ dreams scathless battles!
+
+
+There was not lacking the pathetic shade in the redemption of this
+State from crime and lawlessness. In the village burying-ground of
+Round Rock, Texas, is a simple headstone devoid of any lettering save
+the name “Sam Bass.” His long career of crime and lawlessness would
+fill a good-sized volume. He met his death at the hands of Texas
+Rangers. Years afterward a woman, with all the delicacy of her sex, and
+knowing the odium that was attached to his career, came to this town
+from her home in the North and sought out his grave. As only a woman
+can, when some strong tie of affection binds, this woman went to work
+to mark the last resting-place of the wayward man. Concealing her own
+identity, she performed these sacred rites, clothing in mystery her
+relation to the criminal. The people of the village would not have
+withheld their services in well-meant friendship, but she shrank from
+them, being a stranger.
+
+A year passed, and she came again. This time she brought the stone
+which marks his last resting-place. The chivalry of this generous
+people was aroused in admiration of a woman that would defy the calumny
+attached to an outlaw. While she would have shrunk from kindness, had
+she been permitted, such devotion could not go unchallenged. So she
+disclosed her identity.
+
+She was his sister.
+
+Bass was Northern born, and this sister was the wife of a respectable
+practicing physician in Indiana. Womanlike, her love for a wayward
+brother followed him beyond his disgraceful end. With her own hands she
+performed an act that has few equals, as a testimony of love and
+affection for her own.
+
+For many years afterward she came annually, her timidity having worn
+away after the generous reception accorded her at the hands of a
+hospitable people.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+AT COMANCHE FORD
+
+
+“There’s our ford,” said Juan,—our half-blood trailer,—pointing to the
+slightest sag in a low range of hills distant twenty miles.
+
+We were Texas Rangers. It was nearly noon of a spring day, and we had
+halted on sighting our destination,—Comanche Ford on the Concho River.
+Less than three days before, we had been lounging around camp, near
+Tepee City, one hundred and seventy-five miles northeast of our present
+destination. A courier had reached us with an emergency order, which
+put every man in the saddle within an hour after its receipt.
+
+An outfit with eight hundred cattle had started west up the Concho.
+Their destination was believed to be New Mexico. Suspicion rested on
+them, as they had failed to take out inspection papers for moving the
+cattle, and what few people had seen them declared that one half the
+cattle were brand burnt or blotched beyond recognition. Besides, they
+had an outfit of twenty heavily armed men, or twice as many as were
+required to manage a herd of that size.
+
+Our instructions were to make this crossing with all possible haste,
+and if our numbers were too few, there to await assistance before
+dropping down the river to meet the herd. When these courier orders
+reached us at Tepee, they found only twelve men in camp, with not an
+officer above a corporal. Fortunately we had Dad Root with us, a man
+whom every man in our company would follow as though he had been our
+captain. He had not the advantage in years that his name would
+indicate, but he was an exceedingly useful man in the service. He could
+resight a gun, shoe a horse, or empty a six-shooter into a tree from
+the back of a running horse with admirable accuracy. In dressing a
+gun-shot wound, he had the delicate touch of a woman. Every man in the
+company went to him with his petty troubles, and came away delighted.
+Therefore there was no question as to who should be our leader on this
+raid; no one but Dad was even considered.
+
+Sending a brief note to the adjutant-general by this same courier,
+stating that we had started with twelve men, we broke camp, and in less
+than an hour were riding southwest. One thing which played into our
+hands in making this forced ride was the fact that we had a number of
+extra horses on hand. For a few months previous we had captured quite a
+number of stolen horses, and having no chance to send into the
+settlements where they belonged, we used them as extra riding horses.
+With our pack mules light and these extra saddlers for a change, we
+covered the country rapidly. Sixteen hours a day in the saddle makes
+camp-fires far apart. Dad, too, could always imagine that a few miles
+farther on we would find a fine camping spot, and his views were law to
+us.
+
+We had been riding hard for an hour across a tableland known as Cibollo
+Mesa, and now for the first time had halted at sighting our
+destination, yet distant three hours’ hard riding. “Boys,” said Dad,
+“we’ll make it early to-day. I know a fine camping spot near a big pool
+in the river. After supper we’ll all take a swim, and feel as fresh as
+pond-lilies.”
+
+“Oh, we swim this evening, do we?” inquired Orchard. “That’s a
+Christian idea, Dad, cleanliness, you know. Do we look as though a swim
+would improve our good looks?” The fact that, after a ride like the one
+we were near finishing, every man of us was saturated with fine
+alkaline dust, made the latter question ludicrous.
+
+For this final ride we changed horses for the last time on the trip,
+and after a three hours’ ride under a mid-day torrid sun, the shade of
+Concho’s timber and the companionship of running water were ours. We
+rode with a whoop into the camp which Dad had had in his mind all
+morning, and found it a paradise. We fell out of our saddles, and tired
+horses were rolling and groaning all around us in a few minutes. The
+packs were unlashed with the same alacrity, while horses, mules, and
+men hurried to the water. With the exception of two horses on picket,
+it was a loose camp in a few moments’ time. There was no thought of
+eating now, with such inviting swimming pools as the spring freshets
+had made.
+
+Dad soon located the big pool, for he had been there before, and
+shortly a dozen men floundered and thrashed around in it like a school
+of dolphins. On one side of the pool was a large sloping rock, from
+which splendid diving could be had. On this rock we gathered like kid
+goats on a stump, or sunned ourselves like lizards. To get the benefit
+of the deepest water, only one could dive at a time. We were so bronzed
+from the sun that when undressed the protected parts afforded a
+striking contrast to the brown bands about our necks. Orchard was
+sitting on the rock waiting for his turn to dive, when Long John,
+patting his naked shoulder, said admiringly,—
+
+“Orchard, if I had as purty a plump shoulder as you have, I’d have my
+picture taken kind of half careless like—like the girls do sometimes.
+Wear one of those far-away looks, roll up your eyes, and throw up your
+head like you was listening for it to thunder. Then while in that
+attitude, act as if you didn’t notice and let all your clothing fall
+entirely off your shoulder. If you’ll have your picture taken that way
+and give me one, I’ll promise you to set a heap of store by it, old
+man.”
+
+Orchard looked over the edge of the rock at his reflection in the
+water, and ventured, “Wouldn’t I need a shave? and oughtn’t I to have a
+string of beads around my swan-like neck, with a few spangles on it to
+glitter and sparkle? I’d have to hold my right hand over this old gun
+scar in my left shoulder, so as not to mar the beauty of the picture.
+Remind me of it, John, and I’ll have some taken, and you shall have
+one.”
+
+A few minutes later Happy Jack took his place on the rim of the rock to
+make a dive, his magnificent physique of six feet and two hundred
+pounds looming up like a Numidian cavalryman, when Dad observed, “How
+comes it, Jack, that you are so pitted in the face and neck with
+pox-marks, and there’s none on your body?”
+
+“Just because they come that way, I reckon,” was the answer vouchsafed.
+“You may think I’m funning, lads, but I never felt so supremely happy
+in all my life as when I got well of the smallpox. I had one hundred
+and ninety dollars in my pocket when I took down with them, and only
+had eight left when I got up and was able to go to work.” Here, as he
+poised on tiptoe, with his hands gracefully arched over his head for a
+dive, he was arrested in the movement by a comment of one of the boys,
+to the effect that he “couldn’t see anything in that to make a man so
+_supremely happy_.”
+
+He turned his head halfway round at the speaker, and never losing his
+poise, remarked, “Well, but you must recollect that there was five of
+us taken down at the same time, and the other four died,” and he made a
+graceful spring, boring a hole in the water, which seethed around him,
+arising a moment later throwing water like a porpoise, as though he
+wouldn’t exchange his position in life, humble as it was, with any one
+of a thousand dead heroes.
+
+After an hour in the water and a critical examination of all the old
+gun-shot wounds of our whole squad, and the consequent verdict that it
+was simply impossible to kill a man, we returned to camp and began
+getting supper. There was no stomach so sensitive amongst us that it
+couldn’t assimilate bacon, beans, and black coffee.
+
+When we had done justice to the supper, the twilight hours of the
+evening were spent in making camp snug for the night. Every horse or
+mule was either picketed or hobbled. Every man washed his saddle
+blankets, as the long continuous ride had made them rancid with sweat.
+The night air was so dry and warm that they would even dry at night.
+There was the usual target practice and the never-ending cleaning of
+firearms. As night settled over the camp, everything was in order. The
+blankets were spread, and smoking and yarning occupied the time until
+sleep claimed us.
+
+“Talking about the tight places,” said Orchard, “in which a man often
+finds himself in this service, reminds me of a funny experience which I
+once had, out on the head-waters of the Brazos. I’ve smelt powder at
+short range, and I’m willing to admit there’s nothing fascinating in
+it. But this time I got buffaloed by a bear.
+
+“There are a great many brakes on the head of the Brazos, and in them
+grow cedar thickets. I forget now what the duty was that we were there
+on, but there were about twenty of us in the detachment at the time.
+One morning, shortly after daybreak, another lad and myself walked out
+to unhobble some extra horses which we had with us. The horses had
+strayed nearly a mile from camp, and when we found them they were
+cutting up as if they had been eating loco weed for a month. When we
+came up to them, we saw that they were scared. These horses couldn’t
+talk, but they told us that just over the hill was something they were
+afraid of.
+
+“We crept up the little hill, and there over in a draw was the cause of
+their fear,—a big old lank Cinnamon. He was feeding along, heading for
+a thicket of about ten acres. The lad who was with me stayed and
+watched him, while I hurried back, unhobbled the horses, and rushed
+them into camp. I hustled out every man, and they cinched their hulls
+on those horses rapidly. By the time we had reached the lad who had
+stayed to watch him, the bear had entered the thicket, but unalarmed.
+Some fool suggested the idea that we could drive him out in the open
+and rope him. The lay of the land would suggest such an idea, for
+beyond this motte of cedar lay an impenetrable thicket of over a
+hundred acres, which we thought he would head for if alarmed. There was
+a ridge of a divide between these cedar brakes, and if the bear should
+attempt to cross over, he would make a fine mark for a rope.
+
+“Well, I always was handy with a rope, and the boys knew it, so I and
+three others who could twirl a rope were sent around on this divide, to
+rope him in case he came out. The others left their horses and made a
+half-circle drive through the grove, beating the brush and burning
+powder as though it didn’t cost anything. We ropers up on the divide
+scattered out, hiding ourselves as much as we could in the broken
+places. We wanted to get him out in the clear in case he played nice.
+He must have been a sullen old fellow, for we were beginning to think
+they had missed him or he had holed, when he suddenly lumbered out
+directly opposite me and ambled away towards the big thicket.
+
+“I was riding a cream-colored horse, and he was as good a one as ever
+was built on four pegs, except that he was nervous. He had never seen a
+bear, and when I gave him the rowel, he went after that bear like a cat
+after a mouse. The first sniff he caught of the bear, he whirled
+quicker than lightning, but I had made my cast, and the loop settled
+over Mr. Bear’s shoulders, with one of his fore feet through it. I had
+tied the rope in a hard knot to the pommel, and the way my horse
+checked that bear was a caution. It must have made bruin mad. My horse
+snorted and spun round like a top, and in less time than it takes to
+tell it, there was a bear, a cream-colored horse, and a man sandwiched
+into a pile on the ground, and securely tied with a three-eighths-inch
+rope. The horse had lashed me into the saddle by winding the rope, and
+at the same time windlassed the bear in on top of us. The horse cried
+with fear as though he was being burnt to death, while the bear grinned
+and blew his breath in my face. The running noose in the rope had cut
+his wind so badly, he could hardly offer much resistance. It was a good
+thing he had his wind cut, or he would have made me sorry I enlisted. I
+didn’t know it at the time, but my six-shooter had fallen out of the
+holster, while the horse was lying on my carbine.
+
+“The other three rode up and looked at me, and they all needed killing.
+Horse, bear, and man were so badly mixed up, they dared not shoot. One
+laughed till he cried, another one was so near limp he looked like a
+ghost, while one finally found his senses and, dismounting, cut the
+rope in half a dozen places and untied the bundle. My horse floundered
+to his feet and ran off, but before the bear could free the noose, the
+boys got enough lead into him at close quarters to hold him down. The
+entire detachment came out of the thicket, and their hilarity knew no
+bounds. I was the only man in the crowd who didn’t enjoy the bear
+chase. Right then I made a resolve that hereafter, when volunteers are
+called for to rope a bear, my accomplishments in that line will remain
+unmentioned by me. I’ll eat my breakfast first, anyhow, and think it
+over carefully.”
+
+“Dogs and horses are very much alike about a bear,” said one of the
+boys. “Take a dog that never saw a bear in his life, and let him get a
+sniff of one, and he’ll get up his bristles like a javeline and tuck
+his tail and look about for good backing or a clear field to run.”
+
+Long John showed symptoms that he had some yarn to relate, so we
+naturally remained silent to give him a chance, in case the spirit
+moved in him. Throwing a brand into the fare after lighting his
+cigarette, he stretched himself on the ground, and the expected
+happened.
+
+“A few years ago, while rangering down the country,” said he, “four of
+us had trailed some horse-thieves down on the Rio Grande, when they
+gave us the slip by crossing over into Mexico. We knew the thieves were
+just across the river, so we hung around a few days, in the hope of
+catching them, for if they should recross into Texas they were our
+meat. Our plans were completely upset the next morning, by the arrival
+of twenty United States cavalrymen on the cold trail of four deserters.
+The fact that these deserters were five days ahead and had crossed into
+Mexico promptly on reaching the river, did not prevent this squad of
+soldiers from notifying both villages on each side of the river as to
+their fruitless errand. They couldn’t follow their own any farther, and
+they managed to scare our quarry into hiding in the interior. We waited
+until the soldiers returned to the post, when we concluded we would
+take a little _pasear_ over into Mexico on our own account.
+
+“We called ourselves horse-buyers. The government was paying like
+thirty dollars for deserters, and in case we run across them, we
+figured it would pay expenses to bring them out. These deserters were
+distinguishable wherever they went by the size of their horses;
+besides, they had two fine big American mules for packs. They were
+marked right for that country. Everything about them was _muy grande_.
+We were five days overtaking them, and then at a town one hundred and
+forty miles in the interior. They had celebrated their desertion the
+day previous to our arrival by getting drunk, and when the horse-buyers
+arrived they were in jail. This last condition rather frustrated our
+plans for their capture, as we expected to kidnap them out. But now we
+had red tape authorities to deal with.
+
+“We found the horses, mules, and accoutrements in a corral. They would
+be no trouble to get, as the bill for their keep was the only concern
+of the corral-keeper. Two of the boys who were in the party could
+palaver Spanish, so they concluded to visit the alcalde of the town,
+inquiring after horses in general and incidentally finding out when our
+deserters would be released. The alcalde received the boys with great
+politeness, for Americans were rare visitors in his town, and after
+giving them all the information available regarding horses, the subject
+innocently changed to the American prisoners in jail. The alcalde
+informed them that he was satisfied they were deserters, and not
+knowing just what to do with them he had sent a courier that very
+morning to the governor for instructions in the matter. He estimated it
+would require at least ten days to receive the governor’s reply. In the
+mean time, much as he regretted it, they would remain prisoners. Before
+parting, those two innocents permitted their host to open a bottle of
+wine as an evidence of the friendly feeling, and at the final
+leave-taking, they wasted enough politeness on each other to win a
+woman.
+
+“When the boys returned to us other two, we were at our wits’ end. We
+were getting disappointed too often. The result was that we made up our
+minds that rather than throw up, we would take those deserters out of
+jail and run the risk of getting away with them. We had everything in
+readiness an hour before nightfall. We explained, to the satisfaction
+of the Mexican hostler who had the stock in charge, that the owners of
+these animals were liable to be detained in jail possibly a month, and
+to avoid the expense of their keeping, we would settle the bill for our
+friends and take the stock with us. When the time came every horse was
+saddled and the mules packed and in readiness. We had even moved our
+own stock into the same corral, which was only a short distance from
+the jail.
+
+“As night set in we approached the _carsel_. The turnkey answered our
+questions very politely through a grated iron door, and to our request
+to speak with the prisoners, he regretted that they were being fed at
+that moment, and we would have to wait a few minutes. He unbolted the
+door, however, and offered to show us into a side room, an invitation
+we declined. Instead, we relieved him of his keys and made known our
+errand. When he discovered that we were armed and he was our prisoner,
+he was speechless with terror. It was short work to find the men we
+wanted and march them out, locking the gates behind us and taking
+jailer and keys with us. Once in the saddle, we bade the poor turnkey
+good-by and returned him his keys.
+
+“We rode fast, but in less than a quarter of an hour there was a
+clanging of bells which convinced us that the alarm had been given. Our
+prisoners took kindly to the rescue and rode willingly, but we were
+careful to conceal our identity or motive. We felt certain there would
+be pursuit, if for no other purpose, to justify official authority. We
+felt easy, for we were well mounted, and if it came to a pinch, we
+would burn powder with them, one round at least.
+
+“Before half an hour had passed, we were aware that we were pursued. We
+threw off the road at right angles and rode for an hour. Then, with the
+North Star for a guide, we put over fifty miles behind us before
+sunrise. It was impossible to secrete ourselves the next day, for we
+were compelled to have water for ourselves and stock. To conceal the
+fact that our friends were prisoners, we returned them their arms after
+throwing away their ammunition. We had to enter several ranches during
+the day to secure food and water, but made no particular effort to
+travel.
+
+“About four o’clock we set out, and to our surprise, too, a number of
+horsemen followed us until nearly dark. Passing through a slight
+shelter, in which we were out of sight some little time, two of us
+dropped back and awaited our pursuers. As they came up within hailing
+distance, we ordered them to halt, which they declined by whirling
+their horses and burning the earth getting away. We threw a few rounds
+of lead after them, but they cut all desire for our acquaintance right
+there.
+
+“We reached the river at a nearer point than the one at which we had
+entered, and crossed to the Texas side early the next morning. We
+missed a good ford by two miles and swam the river. At this ford was
+stationed a squad of regulars, and we turned our prizes over within an
+hour after crossing. We took a receipt for the men, stock, and
+equipments, and when we turned it over to our captain a week
+afterwards, we got the riot act read to us right. I noticed, however,
+the first time there was a division of prize money, one item was for
+the capture of four deserters.”
+
+“I don’t reckon that captain had any scruples about taking his share of
+the prize money, did he?” inquired Gotch.
+
+“No, I never knew anything like that to happen since I’ve been in the
+service.”
+
+“There used to be a captain in one of the upper country companies that
+held religious services in his company, and the boys claimed that he
+was equally good on a prayer, a fight, or holding aces in a poker
+game,” said Gotch, as he filled his pipe.
+
+Amongst Dad’s other accomplishments was his unfailing readiness to tell
+of his experiences in the service. So after he had looked over the camp
+in general, he joined the group of lounging smokers and told us of an
+Indian fight in which he had participated.
+
+“I can’t imagine how this comes to be called Comanche Ford,” said Dad.
+“Now the Comanches crossed over into the Panhandle country annually for
+the purpose of killing buffalo. For diversion and pastime, they were
+always willing to add horse-stealing and the murdering of settlers as a
+variation. They used to come over in big bands to hunt, and when ready
+to go back to their reservation in the Indian Territory, they would
+send the squaws on ahead, while the bucks would split into small bands
+and steal all the good horses in sight.
+
+“Our old company was ordered out on the border once, when the Comanches
+were known to be south of Red River killing buffalo. This meant that on
+their return it would be advisable to look out for your horses or they
+would be missing. In order to cover as much territory as possible, the
+company was cut in three detachments. Our squad had twenty men in it
+under a lieutenant. We were patrolling a country known as the Tallow
+Cache Hills, glades and black-jack cross timbers alternating. All kinds
+of rumors of Indian depredations were reaching us almost daily, yet so
+far we had failed to locate or see an Indian.
+
+“One day at noon we packed up and were going to move our camp farther
+west, when a scout, who had gone on ahead, rushed back with the news
+that he had sighted a band of Indians with quite a herd of horses
+pushing north. We led our pack mules, and keeping the shelter of the
+timber started to cut them off in their course. When we first sighted
+them, they were just crossing a glade, and the last buck had just left
+the timber. He had in his mouth an arrow shaft, which he was turning
+between his teeth to remove the sap. All had guns. The first warning
+the Indians received of our presence was a shot made by one of the men
+at this rear Indian. He rolled off his horse like a stone, and the next
+morning when we came back over their trail, he had that unfinished
+arrow in a death grip between his teeth. That first shot let the cat
+out, and we went after them.
+
+“We had two big piebald calico mules, and when we charged those
+Indians, those pack mules outran every saddle horse which we had, and
+dashing into their horse herd, scattered them like partridges. Nearly
+every buck was riding a stolen horse, and for some cause they couldn’t
+get any speed out of them. We just rode all around them. There proved
+to be twenty-two Indians in the band, and one of them was a squaw. She
+was killed by accident.
+
+“The chase had covered about two miles, when the horse she was riding
+fell from a shot by some of our crowd. The squaw recovered herself and
+came to her feet in time to see several carbines in the act of being
+leveled at her by our men. She instantly threw open the slight covering
+about her shoulders and revealed her sex. Some one called out not to
+shoot, that it was a squaw, and the carbines were lowered. As this
+squad passed on, she turned and ran for the protection of the nearest
+timber, and a second squad coming up and seeing the fleeing Indian,
+fired on her, killing her instantly. She had done the very thing she
+should not have done.
+
+“It was a running fight from start to finish. We got the last one in
+the band about seven miles from the first one. The last one to fall was
+mounted on a fine horse, and if he had only ridden intelligently, he
+ought to have escaped. The funny thing about it was he was overtaken by
+the dullest, sleepiest horse in our command. The shooting and smell of
+powder must have put iron into him, for he died a hero. When this last
+Indian saw that he was going to be overtaken, his own horse being
+recently wounded, he hung on one side of the animal and returned the
+fire. At a range of ten yards he planted a bullet squarely in the
+leader’s forehead, his own horse falling at the same instant. Those two
+horses fell dead so near that you could have tied their tails together.
+Our man was thrown so suddenly, that he came to his feet dazed, his
+eyes filled with dirt. The Indian stood not twenty steps away and fired
+several shots at him. Our man, in his blindness, stood there and beat
+the air with his gun, expecting the Indian to rush on him every moment.
+Had the buck used his gun for a club, it might have been different, but
+as long as he kept shooting, his enemy was safe. Half a dozen of us,
+who were near enough to witness his final fight, dashed up, and the
+Indian fell riddled with bullets.
+
+“We went into camp after the fight was over with two wounded men and
+half a dozen dead or disabled horses. Those of us who had mounts in
+good fix scoured back and gathered in our packs and all the Indian and
+stolen horses that were unwounded. It looked like a butchery, but our
+minds were greatly relieved on that point the next day, when we found
+among their effects over a dozen fresh, bloody scalps, mostly women and
+children. There’s times and circumstances in this service that make the
+toughest of us gloomy.”
+
+“How long ago was that?” inquired Orchard.
+
+“Quite a while ago,” replied Dad. “I ought to be able to tell exactly.
+I was a youngster then. Well, I’ll tell you; it was during the
+reconstruction days, when Davis was governor. Figure it out yourself.”
+
+“Speaking of the disagreeable side of this service,” said Happy Jack,
+“reminds me of an incident that took all the nerve out of every one
+connected with it. When I first went into the service, there was a
+well-known horse-thief and smuggler down on the river, known as El
+Lobo. He operated on both sides of the Rio Grande, but generally stole
+his horses from the Texas side. He was a night owl. It was nothing for
+him to be seen at some ranch in the evening, and the next morning be
+met seventy-five or eighty miles distant. He was a good judge of
+horse-flesh, and never stole any but the best. His market was well in
+the interior of Mexico, and he supplied it liberally. He was a typical
+dandy, and like a sailor had a wife in every port. That was his weak
+point, and there’s where we attacked him.
+
+“He had made all kinds of fun of this service, and we concluded to have
+him at any cost. Accordingly we located his women and worked on them.
+Mexican beauty is always over-rated, but one of his conquests in that
+line came as near being the ideal for a rustic beauty as that
+nationality produces. This girl was about twenty, and lived with a
+questionable mother at a ranchito back from the river about thirty
+miles. In form and feature there was nothing lacking, while the
+smouldering fire of her black eyes would win saint or thief alike. Born
+in poverty and ignorance, she was a child of circumstance, and fell an
+easy victim to El Lobo, who lavished every attention upon her. There
+was no present too costly for him, and on his periodical visits he
+dazzled her with gifts. But infatuations of that class generally have
+an end, often a sad one.
+
+“We had a half-blood in our company, who was used as a rival to El Lobo
+in gathering any information that might be afloat, and at the same
+time, when opportunity offered, in sowing the wormwood of jealousy.
+This was easy, for we collected every item in the form of presents he
+ever made her rival señoritas. When these forces were working, our
+half-blood pushed his claims for recognition. Our wages and prize money
+were at his disposal, and in time they won. The neglect shown her by El
+Lobo finally turned her against him, apparently, and she agreed to
+betray his whereabouts the first opportunity—on one condition. And that
+was, that if we succeeded in capturing him, we were to bring him before
+her, that she might, in his helplessness, taunt him for his perfidy
+towards her. We were willing to make any concession to get him, so this
+request was readily granted.
+
+“The deserted condition of the ranchito where the girl lived was to our
+advantage as well as his. The few families that dwelt there had their
+flocks to look after, and the coming or going of a passer-by was
+scarcely noticed. Our man on his visits carefully concealed the fact
+that he was connected with this service, for El Lobo’s lavish use of
+money made him friends wherever he went, and afforded him all the
+seclusion he needed.
+
+“It was over a month before the wolf made his appearance, and we were
+informed of the fact. He stayed at an outside pastor’s camp, visiting
+the ranch only after dark. A corral was mentioned, where within a few
+days’ time, at the farthest, he would pen a bunch of saddle horses.
+There had once been wells at this branding pen, but on their failing to
+furnish water continuously they had been abandoned. El Lobo had friends
+at his command to assist him in securing the best horses in the
+country. So accordingly we planned to pay our respects to him at these
+deserted wells.
+
+“The second night of our watch, we were rewarded by having three men
+drive into these corrals about twenty saddle horses. They had barely
+time to tie their mounts outside and enter the pen, when four of us
+slipped in behind them and changed the programme a trifle. El Lobo was
+one of the men. He was very polite and nice, but that didn’t prevent us
+from ironing him securely, as we did his companions also.
+
+“It was almost midnight when we reached the ranchito where the girl
+lived. We asked him if he had any friends at this ranch whom he wished
+to see. This he denied. When we informed him that by special request a
+lady wished to bid him farewell, he lost some of his bluster and
+bravado. We all dismounted, leaving one man outside with the other two
+prisoners, and entered a small yard where the girl lived. Our
+half-blood aroused her and called her out to meet her friend, El Lobo.
+The girl delayed us some minutes, and we apologized to him for the
+necessity of irons and our presence in meeting his Dulce Corazon. When
+the girl came out we were some distance from the jacal. There was just
+moonlight enough to make her look beautiful.
+
+“As she advanced, she called him by some pet name in their language,
+when he answered her gruffly, accusing her of treachery, and turned his
+back upon her. She approached within a few feet, when it was noticeable
+that she was racked with emotion, and asked him if he had no kind word
+for her. Turning on her, he repeated the accusation of treachery, and
+applied a vile expression to her. That moment the girl flashed into a
+fiend, and throwing a shawl from her shoulders, revealed a pistol,
+firing it twice before a man could stop her. El Lobo sank in his
+tracks, and she begged us to let her trample his lifeless body. Later,
+when composed, she told us that we had not used her any more than she
+had used us, in bringing him helpless to her. As things turned out it
+looked that way.
+
+“We lashed the dead thief on his horse and rode until daybreak, when we
+buried him. We could have gotten a big reward for him dead or alive,
+and we had the evidence of his death, but the manner in which we got it
+made it undesirable. El Lobo was missed, but the manner of his going
+was a secret of four men and a Mexican girl. The other two prisoners
+went over the road, and we even reported to them that he had attempted
+to strangle her, and we shot him to save her. Something had to be
+said.”
+
+The smoking and yarning had ended. Darkness had settled over the camp
+but a short while, when every one was sound asleep. It must have been
+near midnight when a number of us were aroused by the same disturbance.
+The boys sat bolt upright and listened eagerly. We were used to being
+awakened by shots, and the cause of our sudden awakening was believed
+to be the same,—a shot. While the exchange of opinion was going the
+round, all anxiety on that point was dispelled by a second shot, the
+flash of which could be distinctly seen across the river below the
+ford.
+
+As Dad stood up and answered it with a shrill whistle, every man
+reached for his carbine and flattened himself out on the ground. The
+whistle was answered, and shortly the splash of quite a cavalcade could
+be heard fording the river. Several times they halted, our fire having
+died out, and whistles were exchanged between them and Root. When they
+came within fifty yards of camp and their outlines could be
+distinguished against the sky line in the darkness, they were ordered
+to halt, and a dozen carbines clicked an accompaniment to the order.
+
+“Who are you?” demanded Root.
+
+“A detachment from Company M, Texas Rangers,” was the reply.
+
+“If you are Rangers, give us a maxim of the service,” said Dad.
+
+“_Don’t wait for the other man to shoot first_,” came the response.
+
+“Ride in, that passes here,” was Dad’s greeting and welcome.
+
+They were a detachment of fifteen men, and had ridden from the Pecos on
+the south, nearly the same distance which we had come. They had similar
+orders to ours, but were advised that they would meet our detachment at
+this ford. In less than an hour every man was asleep again, and quiet
+reigned in the Ranger camp at Comanche Ford on the Concho.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+AROUND THE SPADE WAGON
+
+
+It was an early spring. The round-up was set for the 10th of June. The
+grass was well forward, while the cattle had changed their shaggy
+winter coats to glossy suits of summer silk. The brands were as
+readable as an alphabet.
+
+It was one day yet before the round-up of the Cherokee Strip. This
+strip of leased Indian lands was to be worked in three divisions. We
+were on our way to represent the Coldwater Pool in the western
+division, on the annual round-up. Our outfit was four men and thirty
+horses. We were to represent a range that had twelve thousand cattle on
+it, a total of forty-seven brands. We had been in the saddle since
+early morning, and as we came out on a narrow divide, we caught our
+first glimpse of the Cottonwoods at Antelope Springs, the rendezvous
+for this division. The setting sun was scarcely half an hour high, and
+the camp was yet five miles distant. We had covered sixty miles that
+day, traveling light, our bedding lashed on gentle saddle horses. We
+rode up the mesa quite a little distance to avoid some rough broken
+country, then turned southward toward the Springs. Before turning off,
+we could see with the naked eye signs of life at the meeting-point. The
+wagon sheets of half a dozen chuck-wagons shone white in the dim
+distance, while small bands of saddle horses could be distinctly seen
+grazing about.
+
+When we halted at noon that day to change our mounts, we sighted to the
+northward some seven miles distant an outfit similar to our own. We
+were on the lookout for this cavalcade; they were supposed to be the
+“Spade” outfit, on their way to attend the round-up in the middle
+division, where our pasture lay. This year, as in years past, we had
+exchanged the courtesies of the range with them. Their men on our
+division were made welcome at our wagon, and we on theirs were extended
+the same courtesy. For this reason we had hoped to meet them and
+exchange the chronicle of the day, concerning the condition of cattle
+on their range, the winter drift, and who would be captain this year on
+the western division, but had traveled the entire day without meeting a
+man.
+
+Night had almost set in when we reached the camp, and to our
+satisfaction and delight found the Spade wagon already there, though
+their men and horses would not arrive until the next day. To hungry men
+like ourselves, the welcome of their cook was hospitality in the
+fullest sense of the word. We stretched ropes from the wagon wheels,
+and in a few moments’ time were busy hobbling our mounts. Darkness had
+settled over the camp as we were at this work, while an occasional
+horseman rode by with the common inquiry, “Whose outfit is this?” and
+the cook, with one end of the rope in his hand, would feel the host in
+him sufficiently to reply in tones supercilious, “The Coldwater Pool
+men are with us this year.”
+
+Our arrival was heralded through the camp with the same rapidity with
+which gossip circulates, equally in a tenement alley or the upper crust
+of society. The cook had informed us that we had been inquired for by
+some Panhandle man; so before we had finished hobbling, a stranger sang
+out across the ropes in the darkness, “Is Billy Edwards here?”
+Receiving an affirmative answer from among the horses’ feet, he added,
+“Come out, then, and shake hands with a friend.”
+
+Edwards arose from his work, and looking across the backs of the circle
+of horses about him, at the undistinguishable figure at the rope,
+replied, “Whoever you are, I reckon the acquaintance will hold good
+until I get these horses hobbled.”
+
+“Who is it?” inquired “Mouse” from over near the hind wheel of the
+wagon, where he was applying the hemp to the horses’ ankles.
+
+“I don’t know,” said Billy, as he knelt among the horses and resumed
+his work,—“some geranium out there wants me to come out and shake
+hands, pow-wow, and make some medicine with him; that’s all. Say, we’ll
+leave Chino for picket, and that Chihuahua cutting horse of Coon’s, you
+have to put a rope on when you come to him. He’s too touchy to sabe
+hobbles if you don’t.”
+
+When we had finished hobbling, and the horses were turned loose, the
+stranger proved to be “Babe” Bradshaw, an old chum of Edwards’s. The
+Spade cook added an earthly laurel to his temporal crown with the
+supper to which he shortly invited us. Bradshaw had eaten with the
+general wagon, but he sat around while we ate. There was little
+conversation during the supper, for our appetites were such and the
+spread so inviting that it simply absorbed us.
+
+“Don’t bother me,” said Edwards to his old chum, in reply to some
+inquiry. “Can’t you see that I’m occupied at present?”
+
+We did justice to the supper, having had no dinner that day. The cook
+even urged, with an earnestness worthy of a motherly landlady, several
+dishes, but his browned potatoes and roast beef claimed our attention.
+“Well, what are you doing in this country anyhow?” inquired Edwards of
+Bradshaw, when the inner man had been thoroughly satisfied.
+
+“Well, sir, I have a document in my pocket, with sealing wax but no
+ribbons on it, which says that I am the duly authorized representative
+of the Panhandle Cattle Association. I also have a book in my pocket
+showing every brand and the names of its owners, and there is a whole
+raft of them. I may go to St. Louis to act as inspector for my people
+when the round-up ends.”
+
+“You’re just as windy as ever, Babe,” said Billy. “Strange I didn’t
+recognize you when you first spoke. You’re getting natural now, though.
+I suppose you’re borrowing horses, like all these special inspectors
+do. It’s all right with me, but good men must be scarce in your section
+or you’ve improved rapidly since you left us. By the way, there is a
+man or four lying around here that also represents about forty-seven
+brands. Possibly you’d better not cut any of their cattle or you might
+get them cut back on you.”
+
+“Do you remember,” said Babe, “when I dissolved with the ‘Ohio’ outfit
+and bought in with the ‘LX’ people?”
+
+“When you what?” repeated Edwards.
+
+“Well, then, when I was discharged by the ‘Ohio’s’ and got a job
+ploughing fire-guards with the ‘LX’s.’ Is that plain enough for your
+conception? I learned a lesson then that has served me since to good
+advantage. Don’t hesitate to ask for the best job on the works, for if
+you don’t you’ll see some one get it that isn’t as well qualified to
+fill it as you are. So if you happen to be in St. Louis, call around
+and see me at the Panhandle headquarters. Don’t send in any card by a
+nigger; walk right in. I might give you some other pointers, but you
+couldn’t appreciate them. You’ll more than likely be driving a
+chuck-wagon in a few years.”
+
+These old cronies from boyhood sparred along in give-and-take repartee
+for some time, finally drifting back to boyhood days, while the
+harshness that pervaded their conversation before became mild and
+genial.
+
+“Have you ever been back in old San Saba since we left?” inquired
+Edwards after a long meditative silence.
+
+“Oh, yes, I spent a winter back there two years ago, though it was hard
+lines to enjoy yourself. I managed to romance about for two or three
+months, sowing turnip seed and teaching dancing-school. The girls that
+you and I knew are nearly all married.”
+
+“What ever became of the O’Shea girls?” asked Edwards. “You know that I
+was high card once with the eldest.”
+
+“You’d better comfort yourself with the thought,” answered Babe, “for
+you couldn’t play third fiddle in her string now. You remember old
+Dennis O’Shea was land-poor all his life. Well, in the land and cattle
+boom a few years ago he was picked up and set on a pedestal. It’s
+wonderful what money can do! The old man was just common bog Irish all
+his life, until a cattle syndicate bought his lands and cattle for
+twice what they were worth. Then he blossomed into a capitalist. He
+always was a trifle hide-bound. Get all you can and can all you get,
+took precedence and became the first law with your papa-in-law. The old
+man used to say that the prettiest sight he ever saw was the smoke
+arising from a ‘Snake’ branding-iron. They moved to town, and have been
+to Europe since they left the ranch. Jed Lynch, you know, was smitten
+on the youngest girl. Well, he had the nerve to call on them after
+their return from Europe. He says that they live in a big house, their
+name’s on the door, and you have to ring a bell, and then a nigger
+meets you. It must make a man feel awkward to live around a wagon all
+his days, and then suddenly change to style and put on a heap of dog.
+Jed says the red-headed girl, the middle one, married some fellow, and
+they live with the old folks. He says the other girls treated him
+nicely, but the old lady, she has got it bad. He says that she just
+languishes on a sofa, cuts into the conversation now and then, and
+simply swells up. She don’t let the old man come into the parlor at
+all. Jed says that when the girls were describing their trip through
+Europe, one of them happened to mention Rome, when the old lady
+interrupted: ‘Rome? Rome? Let me see, I’ve forgotten, girls. Where is
+Rome?’
+
+“‘Don’t you remember when we were in Italy,’ said one of the girls,
+trying to refresh her memory.
+
+“‘Oh, yes, now I remember; that’s where I bought you girls such nice
+long red stockings.’
+
+“The girls suddenly remembered some duty about the house that required
+their immediate attention, and Jed says that he looked out of the
+window.”
+
+“So you think I’ve lost my number, do you?” commented Edwards, as he
+lay on his back and fondly patted a comfortable stomach.
+
+“Well, possibly I have, but it’s some consolation to remember that that
+very good woman that you’re slandering used to give me the glad hand
+and cut the pie large when I called. I may be out of the game, but I’d
+take a chance yet if I were present; that’s what!”
+
+They were singing over at one of the wagons across the draw, and after
+the song ended, Bradshaw asked, “What ever became of Raneka Bill
+Hunter?”
+
+“Oh, he’s drifting about,” said Edwards. “Mouse here can tell you about
+him. They’re old college chums.”
+
+“Raneka was working for the ‘-BQ’ people last summer,” said Mouse, “but
+was discharged for hanging a horse, or rather he discharged himself. It
+seems that some one took a fancy to a horse in his mount. The last man
+to buy into an outfit that way always gets all the bad horses for his
+string. As Raneka was a new man there, the result was that some excuse
+was given him to change, and they rung in a spoilt horse on him in
+changing. Being new that way, he wasn’t on to the horses. The first
+time he tried to saddle this new horse he showed up bad. The horse
+trotted up to him when the rope fell on his neck, reared up nicely and
+playfully, and threw out his forefeet, stripping the three upper
+buttons off Bill’s vest pattern. Bill never said a word about his
+intentions, but tied him to the corral fence and saddled up his own
+private horse. There were several men around camp, but they said
+nothing, being a party to the deal, though they noticed Bill riding
+away with the spoilt horse. He took him down on the creek about a mile
+from camp and hung him.
+
+“How did he do it? Why, there was a big cottonwood grew on a bluff bank
+of the creek. One limb hung out over the bluff, over the bed of the
+creek. He left the running noose on the horse’s neck, climbed out on
+this overhanging limb, taking the rope through a fork directly over the
+water. He then climbed down and snubbed the free end of the rope to a
+small tree, and began taking in his slack. When the rope began to choke
+the horse, he reared and plunged, throwing himself over the bluff. That
+settled his ever hurting any one. He was hung higher than Haman. Bill
+never went back to the camp, but struck out for other quarters. There
+was a month’s wages coming to him, but he would get that later or they
+might keep it. Life had charms for an old-timer like Bill, and he
+didn’t hanker for any reputation as a broncho-buster. It generally
+takes a verdant to pine for such honors.
+
+“Last winter when Bill was riding the chuck line, he ran up against a
+new experience. It seems that some newcomer bought a range over on
+Black Bear. This new man sought to set at defiance the customs of the
+range. It was currently reported that he had refused to invite people
+to stay for dinner, and preferred that no one would ask for a night’s
+lodging, even in winter. This was the gossip of the camps for miles
+around, so Bill and some juniper of a pardner thought they would make a
+call on him and see how it was. They made it a point to reach his camp
+shortly after noon. They met the owner just coming out of the dug-out
+as they rode up. They exchanged the compliments of the hour, when the
+new man turned and locked the door of the dug-out with a padlock. Bill
+sparred around the main question, but finally asked if it was too late
+to get dinner, and was very politely informed that dinner was over.
+This latter information was, however, qualified with a profusion of
+regrets. After a confession of a hard ride made that morning from a
+camp many miles distant, Bill asked the chance to remain over night.
+Again the travelers were met with serious regrets, as no one would be
+at camp that night, business calling the owner away; he was just
+starting then. The cowman led out his horse, and after mounting and
+expressing for the last time his sincere regrets that he could not
+extend to them the hospitalities of his camp, rode away.
+
+“Bill and his pardner moseyed in an opposite direction a short distance
+and held a parley. Bill was so nonplussed at the reception that it took
+him some little time to collect his thoughts. When it thoroughly dawned
+on him that the courtesies of the range had been trampled under foot by
+a rank newcomer and himself snubbed, he was aroused to action.
+
+“‘Let’s go back,’ said Bill to his pardner, ‘and at least leave our
+card. He might not like it if we didn’t.’
+
+“They went back and dismounted about ten steps from the door. They shot
+every cartridge they both had, over a hundred between them, through the
+door, fastened a card with their correct names on it, and rode away.
+One of the boys that was working there, but was absent at the time,
+says there was a number of canned tomato and corn crates ranked up at
+the rear of the dug-out, in range with the door. This lad says that it
+looked as if they had a special grievance against those canned goods,
+for they were riddled with lead. That fellow lost enough by that act to
+have fed all the chuck-line men that would bother him in a year.
+
+“Raneka made it a rule,” continued Mouse, “to go down and visit the
+Cheyennes every winter, sometimes staying a month. He could make a good
+stagger at speaking their tongue, so that together with his knowledge
+of the Spanish and the sign language he could converse with them
+readily. He was perfectly at home with them, and they all liked him.
+When he used to let his hair grow long, he looked like an Indian. Once,
+when he was wrangling horses for us during the beef-shipping season, we
+passed him off for an Indian on some dining-room girls. George Wall was
+working with us that year, and had gone in ahead to see about the cars
+and find out when we could pen and the like. We had to drive to the
+State line, then, to ship. George took dinner at the best hotel in the
+town, and asked one of the dining-room girls if he might bring in an
+Indian to supper the next evening. They didn’t know, so they referred
+him to the landlord. George explained to that auger, who, not wishing
+to offend us, consented. There were about ten girls in the dining-room,
+and they were on the lookout for the Indian. The next night we penned a
+little before dark. Not a man would eat at the wagon; every one rode
+for the hotel. We fixed Bill up in fine shape, put feathers in his
+hair, streaked his face with red and yellow, and had him all togged out
+in buckskin, even to moccasins. As we entered the dining-room, George
+led him by the hand, assuring all the girls that he was perfectly
+harmless. One long table accommodated us all. George, who sat at the
+head with our Indian on his right, begged the girls not to act as
+though they were afraid; he might notice it. Wall fed him pickles and
+lump sugar until the supper was brought on. Then he pushed back his
+chair about four feet, and stared at the girls like an idiot. When
+George ordered him to eat, he stood up at the table. When he wouldn’t
+let him stand, he took the plate on his knee, and ate one side dish at
+a time. Finally, when he had eaten everything that suited his taste, he
+stood up and signed with his hands to the group of girls, muttering,
+‘Wo-haw, wo-haw.’
+
+“‘He wants some more beef,’ said Wall. ‘Bring him some more beef.’
+After a while he stood up and signed again, George interpreting his
+wants to the dining-room girls: ‘Bring him some coffee. He’s awful fond
+of coffee.’
+
+“That supper lasted an hour, and he ate enough to kill a horse. As we
+left the dining-room, he tried to carry away a sugar-bowl, but Wall
+took it away from him. As we passed out George turned back and
+apologized to the girls, saying, ‘He’s a good Injun. I promised him he
+might eat with us. He’ll talk about this for months now. When he goes
+back to his tribe he’ll tell his squaws all about you girls feeding
+him.’”
+
+“Seems like I remember that fellow Wall,” said Bradshaw, meditating.
+
+“Why, of course you do. Weren’t you with us when we voted the bonds to
+the railroad company?” asked Edwards.
+
+“No, never heard of it; must have been after I left. What business did
+you have voting bonds?”
+
+“Tell him, Coon. I’m too full for utterance,” said Edwards.
+
+“If you’d been in this country you’d heard of it,” said Coon Floyd.
+“For a few years everything was dated from that event. It was like
+‘when the stars fell,’ and the ‘surrender’ with the old-time darkies at
+home. It seems that some new line of railroad wanted to build in, and
+wanted bonds voted to them as bonus. Some foxy agent for this new line
+got among the long-horns, who own the cattle on this Strip, and showed
+them that it was to their interests to get a competing line in the
+cattle traffic. The result was, these old long-horns got owly, laid
+their heads together, and made a little medicine. Every mother’s son of
+us in the Strip was entitled to claim a home somewhere, so they put it
+up that we should come in and vote for the bonds. It was believed it
+would be a close race if they carried, for it was by counties that the
+bonds were voted. Towns that the road would run through would vote
+unanimously for them, but outlying towns would vote solidly against the
+bonds. There was a big lot of money used, wherever it came from, for we
+were royally entertained. Two or three days before the date set for the
+election, they began to head for this cow-town, every man on his top
+horse. Everything was as free as air, and we all understood that a new
+railroad was a good thing for the cattle interests. We gave it not only
+our votes, but moral support likewise.
+
+“It was a great gathering. The hotels fed us, and the liveries cared
+for our horses. The liquid refreshments were provided by the
+prohibition druggists of the town and were as free as the sunlight.
+There was an underestimate made on the amount of liquids required, for
+the town was dry about thirty minutes; but a regular train was run
+through from Wichita ahead of time, and the embarrassment overcome.
+There was an opposition line of railroad working against the bonds, but
+they didn’t have any better sense than to send a man down to our town
+to counteract our exertions. Public sentiment was a delicate matter
+with us, and while this man had no influence with any of us, we didn’t
+feel the same toward him as we might. He was distributing his tickets
+around, and putting up a good argument, possibly, from his point of
+view, when some of these old long-horns hinted to the boys to show the
+fellow that he wasn’t wanted. ‘Don’t hurt him,’ said one old cow-man to
+this same Wall, ‘but give him a scare, so he will know that we don’t
+indorse him a little bit. Let him know that this town knows how to vote
+without being told. I’ll send a man to rescue him, when things have
+gone far enough. You’ll know when to let up.’
+
+“That was sufficient. George went into a store and cut off about fifty
+feet of new rope. Some fellows that knew how tied a hangman’s knot. As
+we came up to the stranger, we heard him say to a man, ‘I tell you,
+sir, these bonds will pauperize unborn gener—’ But the noose dropped
+over his neck, and cut short his argument. We led him a block and a
+half through the little town, during which there was a pointed argument
+between Wall and a “Z——” man whether the city scales or the stockyards
+arch gate would be the best place to hang him. There were a hundred men
+around him and hanging on to the rope, when a druggist, whom most of
+them knew, burst through the crowd, and whipping out a knife cut the
+rope within a few feet of his neck. ‘What in hell are you varments
+trying to do?’ roared the druggist. ‘This man is a cousin of mine.
+Going to hang him, are you? Well, you’ll have to hang me with him when
+you do.’
+
+“‘Just as soon make it two as one,’ snarled George. ‘When did you get
+the chips in this game, I’d like to know? Oppose the progress of the
+town, too, do you?’
+
+“‘No, I don’t,’ said the druggist, ‘and I’ll see that my cousin here
+doesn’t.’
+
+“‘That’s all we ask, then,’ said Wall; ‘turn him loose, boys. We don’t
+want to hang no man. We hold you responsible if he opens his mouth
+again against the bonds.’
+
+“‘Hold me responsible, gentlemen,’ said the druggist, with a profound
+bow. ‘Come with me, Cousin,’ he said to the Anti.
+
+“The druggist took him through his store, and up some back stairs; and
+once he had him alone, this was his advice, as reported to us later:
+‘You’re a stranger to me. I lied to those men, but I saved your life.
+Now, I’ll take you to the four-o’clock train, and get you out of this
+town. By this act I’ll incur the hatred of these people that I live
+amongst. So you let the idea go out that you are my cousin. Sabe? Now,
+stay right here and I’ll bring you anything you want, but for Heaven’s
+sake, don’t give me away.’
+
+“‘Is—is—is the four o’clock train the first out?’ inquired the new
+cousin.
+
+“‘It is the first. I’ll see you through this. I’ll come up and see you
+every hour. Take things cool and easy now. I’m your friend, remember,’
+was the comfort they parted on.
+
+“There were over seven hundred votes cast, and only one against the
+bonds. How that one vote got in is yet a mystery. There were no hard
+drinkers among the boys, all easy drinkers, men that never refused to
+drink. Yet voting was a little new to them, and possibly that was how
+this mistake occurred. We got the returns early in the evening. The
+county had gone by a handsome majority for the bonds. The committee on
+entertainment had provided a ball for us in the basement of the Opera
+House, it being the largest room in town. When the good news began to
+circulate, the merchants began building bonfires. Fellows who didn’t
+have extra togs on for the ball got out their horses, and in squads of
+twenty to fifty rode through the town, painting her red. If there was
+one shot fired that night, there were ten thousand.
+
+“I bought a white shirt and went to the ball. To show you how general
+the good feeling amongst everybody was, I squeezed the hand of an
+alfalfa widow during a waltz, who instantly reported the affront
+offered to her gallant. In her presence he took me to task for the
+offense. ‘Young man,’ said the doctor, with a quiet wink,’ this lady is
+under my protection. The fourteenth amendment don’t apply to you nor
+me. Six-shooters, however, make us equal. Are you armed?’
+
+“‘I am, sir.’
+
+“‘Unfortunately, I am not. Will you kindly excuse me, say ten minutes?’
+
+“‘Certainly, sir, with pleasure.’
+
+“‘There are ladies present,’ he observed. ‘Let us retire.’
+
+“On my consenting, he turned to the offended dame, and in spite of her
+protests and appeals to drop matters, we left the ballroom, glaring
+daggers at each other. Once outside, he slapped me on the back, and
+said, ‘Say, we’ll just have time to run up to my office, where I have
+some choice old copper-distilled, sent me by a very dear friend in
+Kentucky.’
+
+“The goods were all he claimed for them, and on our return he asked me
+as a personal favor to apologize to the lady, admitting that he was
+none too solid with her himself. My doing so, he argued, would fortify
+him with her and wipe out rivals. The doctor was a rattling good
+fellow, and I’d even taken off my new shirt for him, if he’d said the
+word. When I made the apology, I did it on the grounds that I could not
+afford to have any difference, especially with a gentleman who would
+willingly risk his life for a lady who claimed his protection.
+
+“No, if you never heard of voting the bonds you certainly haven’t kept
+very close tab on affairs in this Strip. Two or three men whom I know
+refused to go in and vote. They ain’t working in this country now. It
+took some of the boys ten days to go and come, but there wasn’t a word
+said. Wages went on just the same. You ain’t asleep, are you, Don
+Guillermo?”
+
+“Oh, no,” said Edwards, with a yawn, “I feel just like the nigger did
+when he eat his fill of possum, corn bread, and new molasses: pushed
+the platter away and said, ‘Go way, ’lasses, you done los’ yo’
+sweetness.’”
+
+Bradshaw made several attempts to go, but each time some thought would
+enter his mind and he would return with questions about former
+acquaintances. Finally he inquired, “What ever became of that little
+fellow who was sick about your camp?”
+
+Edwards meditated until Mouse said, “He’s thinking about little St.
+John, the fiddler.”
+
+“Oh, yes, Patsy St. John, the little glass-blower,” said Edwards, as he
+sat up on a roll of bedding. “He’s dead long ago. Died at our camp. I
+did something for him that I’ve often wondered who would do the same
+for me—I closed his eyes when he died. You know he came to us with the
+mark on his brow. There was no escape; he had consumption. He wanted to
+live, and struggled hard to avoid going. Until three days before his
+death he was hopeful; always would tell us how much better he was
+getting, and every one could see that he was gradually going. We always
+gave him gentle horses to ride, and he would go with us on trips that
+we were afraid would be his last. There wasn’t a man on the range who
+ever said ‘No’ to him. He was one of those little men you can’t help
+but like; small physically, but with a heart as big as an ox’s. He
+lived about three years on the range, was welcome wherever he went, and
+never made an enemy or lost a friend. He couldn’t; it wasn’t in him. I
+don’t remember now how he came to the range, but think he was advised
+by doctors to lead an outdoor life for a change.
+
+“He was born in the South, and was a glass-blower by occupation. He
+would have died sooner, but for his pluck and confidence that he would
+get well. He changed his mind one morning, lost hope that he would ever
+get well, and died in three days. It was in the spring. We were going
+out one morning to put in a flood-gate on the river, which had washed
+away in a freshet. He was ready to go along. He hadn’t been on a horse
+in two weeks. No one ever pretended to notice that he was sick. He was
+sensitive if you offered any sympathy, so no one offered to assist,
+except to saddle his horse. The old horse stood like a kitten. Not a
+man pretended to notice, but we all saw him put his foot in the stirrup
+three different times and attempt to lift himself into the saddle. He
+simply lacked the strength. He asked one of the boys to unsaddle the
+horse, saying he wouldn’t go with us. Some of the boys suggested that
+it was a long ride, and it was best he didn’t go, that we would hardly
+get back until after dark. But we had no idea that he was so near his
+end. After we left, he went back to the shack and told the cook he had
+changed his mind,—that he was going to die. That night, when we came
+back, he was lying on his cot. We all tried to jolly him, but each got
+the same answer from him, ‘I’m going to die.’ The outfit to a man was
+broke up about it, but all kept up a good front. We tried to make him
+believe it was only one of his bad days, but he knew otherwise. He
+asked Joe Box and Ham Rhodes, the two biggest men in the outfit,
+six-footers and an inch each, to sit one on each side of his cot until
+he went to sleep. He knew better than any of us how near he was to
+crossing. But it seemed he felt safe between these two giants. We kept
+up a running conversation in jest with one another, though it was empty
+mockery. But he never pretended to notice. It was plain to us all that
+the fear was on him. We kept near the shack the next day, some of the
+boys always with him. The third evening he seemed to rally, talked with
+us all, and asked if some of the boys would not play the fiddle. He was
+a good player himself. Several of the boys played old favorites of his,
+interspersed with stories and songs, until the evening was passing
+pleasantly. We were recovering from our despondency with this
+noticeable recovery on his part, when he whispered to his two big
+nurses to prop him up. They did so with pillows and parkers, and he
+actually smiled on us all. He whispered to Joe, who in turn asked the
+lad sitting on the foot of the cot to play Farewell, my Sunny Southern
+Home.’ Strange we had forgotten that old air,—for it was a general
+favorite with us,—and stranger now that he should ask for it. As that
+old familiar air was wafted out from the instrument, he raised his
+eyes, and seemed to wander in his mind as if trying to follow the
+refrain. Then something came over him, for he sat up rigid, pointing
+out his hand at the empty space, and muttered, ‘There
+stands—mother—now—under—the—oleanders. Who is—that with—her? Yes, I
+had—a sister. Open—the—windows. It—is—getting—dark—dark—dark.’
+
+“Large hands laid him down tenderly, but a fit of coughing came on. He
+struggled in a hemorrhage for a moment, and then crossed over to the
+waiting figures among the oleanders. Of all the broke-up outfits, we
+were the most. Dead tough men bawled like babies. I had a good one
+myself. When we came around to our senses, we all admitted it was for
+the best. Since he could not get well, he was better off. We took him
+next day about ten miles and buried him with those freighters who were
+killed when the Pawnees raided this country. Some man will plant corn
+over their graves some day.”
+
+As Edwards finished his story, his voice trembled and there were tears
+in his eyes. A strange silence had come over those gathered about the
+camp-fire. Mouse, to conceal his emotion, pretended to be asleep, while
+Bradshaw made an effort to clear his throat of something that would
+neither go up nor down, and failing in this, turned and walked away
+without a word. Silently we unrolled the beds, and with saddles for
+pillows and the dome of heaven for a roof, we fell asleep.
+
+
+
+
+X
+THE RANSOM OF DON RAMON MORA
+
+
+On the southern slope of the main tableland which divides the waters of
+the Nueces and Rio Grande rivers in Texas, lies the old Spanish land
+grant of “Agua Dulce,” and the rancho by that name. Twice within the
+space of fifteen years was an appeal to the sword taken over the
+ownership of the territory between these rivers. Sparsely settled by
+the descendants of the original grantees, with an occasional American
+ranchman, it is to-day much the same as when the treaty of peace gave
+it to the stronger republic.
+
+This frontier on the south has undergone few changes in the last half
+century, and no improvements have been made. Here the smuggler against
+both governments finds an inviting field. The bandit and the robber
+feel equally at home under either flag. Revolutionists hatch their
+plots against the powers that be; sedition takes on life and finds
+adherents eager to bear arms and apply the torch.
+
+Within a dozen years of the close of the century just past, this
+territory was infested by a band of robbers, whose boldness has had few
+equals in the history of American brigandage. The Bedouins of the
+Orient justify their freebooting by accounting it a religious duty,
+looking upon every one against their faith as an Infidel, and therefore
+common property. These bandits could offer no such excuse, for they
+plundered people of their own faith and blood. They were Mexicans, a
+hybrid mixture of Spanish atrocity and Indian cruelty. They numbered
+from ten to twenty, and for several months terrorized the Mexican
+inhabitants on both sides of the river. On the American side they were
+particular never to molest any one except those of their own
+nationality. These they robbed with impunity, nor did their victims
+dare to complain to the authorities, so thoroughly were they terrified
+and coerced.
+
+The last and most daring act of these marauders was the kidnapping of
+Don Ramon Mora, owner of the princely grant of Agua Dulce. Thousands of
+cattle and horses ranged over the vast acres of his ranch, and he was
+reputed to be a wealthy man. No one ever enjoyed the hospitality of
+Agua Dulce but went his way with an increased regard for its owner and
+his estimable Castilian family. The rancho lay back from the river
+probably sixty miles, and was on the border of the chaparral, which was
+the rendezvous of the robbers. Don Ramon had a pleasant home in one of
+the river towns. One June he and his family had gone to the ranch,
+intending to spend a few weeks there. He had notified cattle-buyers of
+this vacation, and had invited them to visit him there either on
+business or pleasure.
+
+One evening an unknown vaquero rode up to the rancho and asked for Don
+Ramon. That gentleman presenting himself, the stranger made known his
+errand: a certain firm of well-known drovers, friends of the ranchero,
+were encamped for the night at a ranchita some ten miles distant. They
+regretted that they could not visit him, but they would be pleased to
+see him. They gave as an excuse for not calling that they were driving
+quite a herd of cattle, and the corrals at this little ranch were
+unsafe for the number they had, so that they were compelled to hold
+outside or night-herd. This very plausible story was accepted without
+question by Don Ramon, who well understood the handling of herds.
+Inviting the messenger to some refreshment, he ordered his horse
+saddled and made preparation to return with this pseudo vaquero.
+Telling his family that he would be gone for the night, he rode away
+with the stranger.
+
+There were several thickety groves, extending from the main chaparral
+out for considerable distance on the prairie, but not of as rank a
+growth as on the alluvial river bottoms. These thickets were composed
+of thorny underbrush, frequently as large as fruit trees and of a
+density which made them impenetrable, except by those thoroughly
+familiar with the few established trails. The road from Agua Dulce to
+the ranchita was plain and well known, yet passing through several arms
+of the main body of the chaparral. Don Ramon and his guide reached one
+of these thickets after nightfall. Suddenly they were surrounded by a
+dozen horsemen, who, with oaths and jests, told him that he was their
+prisoner. Relieving Don Ramon of his firearms and other valuables, one
+of the bandits took the bridle off his horse, and putting a rope around
+the animal’s neck, the band turned towards the river with their
+captive. Near morning they went into one of their many retreats in the
+chaparral, fettering their prisoner. What the feelings of Don Ramon
+Mora were that night is not for pen to picture, for they must have been
+indescribable.
+
+The following day the leader of these bandits held several
+conversations with him, asking in regard to his family, his children in
+particular, their names, number, and ages. When evening came they set
+out once more southward, crossing the Rio Grande during the night at an
+unused ford. The next morning found them well inland on the Mexican
+side, and encamped in one of their many chaparral rendezvous. Here they
+spent several days, sometimes, however, only a few of the band being
+present. The density of the thickets on the first and second bottoms of
+this river, extending back inland often fifty miles, made this camp and
+refuge almost inaccessible. The country furnished their main
+subsistence; fresh meat was always at hand, while their comrades,
+scouting the river towns, supplied such comforts as were lacking.
+
+Don Ramon’s appeals to his captors to know his offense and what his
+punishment was to be were laughed at until he had been their prisoner a
+week. One night several of the party returned, awoke him out of a
+friendly sleep, and he was notified that their chief would join them by
+daybreak, and then he would know what his offense had been. When this
+personage made his appearance, he ordered Don Ramon released from his
+fetters. Every one in camp showed obeisance to him. After holding a
+general conversation with his followers, he approached Don Ramon, the
+band forming a circle about the prisoner and their chief.
+
+“Don Ramon Mora,” he began, with mock courtesy, “doubtless you consider
+yourself an innocent and abused person. In that you are wrong. Your
+offense is a political one. Your family for three generations have
+opposed the freedom of Mexico. When our people were conquered and
+control was given to the French, it was through the treachery of such
+men as you. Treason is unpardonable, Señor Mora. It is useless to
+enumerate your crimes against human liberty. Living as you do under a
+friendly government, you have incited the ignorant to revolution and
+revolt against the native rulers. Secret agents of our common country
+have shadowed you for years. It is useless to deny your guilt. Your
+execution, therefore, will be secret, in order that your co-workers in
+infamy shall not take alarm, but may meet a similar fate.”
+
+Turning to one of the party who had acted as leader at the time of his
+capture, he gave these instructions: “Be in no hurry to execute these
+orders. Death is far too light a sentence to fit his crime. He is
+beyond a full measure of justice.” There was a chorus of “bravos” when
+the bandit chief finished this trumped-up charge. As he turned from the
+prisoner, Don Ramon pleadingly begged, “Only take me before an
+established court that I may prove my innocence.”
+
+“No! sentence has been passed upon you. If you hope for mercy, it must
+come from there,” and the chief pointed heavenward. One of the band led
+out the arch-chief’s horse, and with a parting instruction to “conceal
+his grave carefully,” he rode away with but a single attendant.
+
+As they led Don Ramon back to his blanket and replaced the fetters, his
+cup of sorrow was full to overflowing. Oddly enough the leader, since
+sentence of death had been pronounced upon his victim, was the only one
+of the band who showed any kindness. The others were brutal in their
+jeers and taunts. Some remarks burned into his sensitive nature as
+vitriol burns into metal. The bandit leader alone offered little
+kindnesses.
+
+Two days later, the acting chief ordered the irons taken from the
+captive’s feet, and the two men, with but a single attendant, who kept
+a respectful distance, started out for a stroll. The bandit chief
+expressed his regret at the sad duty which had been allotted him, and
+assured Don Ramon that he would gladly make his time as long as was
+permissible.
+
+“I thank you for your kindness,” said Don Ramon, “but is there no
+chance to be given me to prove the falsity of these charges? Am I
+condemned to die without a hearing?”
+
+“There is no hope from that source.”
+
+“Is there any hope from any source?”
+
+“Scarcely,” replied the leader, “and still, if we could satisfy those
+in authority over us that you had been executed as ordered, and if my
+men could be bribed to certify the fact if necessary, and if you pledge
+us to quit the country forever, who would know to the contrary? True,
+our lives would be in jeopardy, and it would mean death to you if you
+betrayed us.”
+
+“Is this possible?” asked Don Ramon excitedly.
+
+“The color of gold makes a good many things possible.”
+
+“I would gladly give all I possess in the world for one hour’s peace in
+the presence of my family, even if in the next my soul was summoned to
+the bar of God. True, in lands and cattle I am wealthy, but the money
+at my command is limited, though I wish it were otherwise.”
+
+“It is a fortunate thing that you are a man of means. Say nothing to
+your guards, and I will have a talk this very night with two men whom I
+can trust, and we will see what can be done for you. Come, señor, don’t
+despair, for I feel there is some hope,” concluded the bandit.
+
+The family of Don Ramon were uneasy but not alarmed by his failure to
+return to them the day following his departure. After two days had
+passed, during which no word had come from him, his wife sent an old
+servant to see if he was still at the ranchita. There the man learned
+that his master had not been seen, nor had there been any drovers there
+recently. Under the promise of secrecy, the servant was further
+informed that, on the very day that Don Ramon had left his home, a band
+of robbers had driven into a corral at a ranch in the _monte_ a remudo
+of ranch horses, and, asking no one’s consent, had proceeded to change
+their mounts, leaving their own tired horses. This they did at noonday,
+without so much as a hand raised in protest, so terrified were the
+people of the ranch.
+
+On the servant’s return to Agua Dulce, the alarm and grief of the
+family were pitiful, as was their helplessness. When darkness set in
+Señora Mora sent a letter by a peon to an old family friend at his home
+on the river. The next night three men, for mutual protection, brought
+back a reply. From it these plausible deductions were made:—
+
+That Don Ramon had been kidnapped for a ransom; that these bandits no
+doubt were desperate men who would let nothing interfere with their
+plans; that to notify the authorities and ask for help might end in his
+murder; and that if kidnapped for a ransom, overtures for his
+redemption would be made in due time. As he was entirely at the mercy
+of his captors, they must look for hope only from that source. If
+reward was their motive, he was worth more living than dead. This was
+the only consolation deduced. The letter concluded by advising them to
+meet any overture in strict confidence. As only money would be
+acceptable in such a case, the friend pledged all his means in behalf
+of Don Ramon should it be needed.
+
+These were anxious days and weary nights for this innocent family. The
+father, no doubt, would welcome death itself in preference to the rack
+on which he was kept by his captors. Time is not considered valuable in
+warm climates, and two weary days were allowed to pass before any
+conversation was renewed with Don Ramon.
+
+Then once more the chief had the fetters removed from his victim’s
+ankles, with the customary guard within call. He explained that many of
+the men were away, and it would be several days yet before he could
+know if the outlook for his release was favorable. From what he had
+been able to learn so far, at least fifty thousand dollars would be
+necessary to satisfy the band, which numbered twenty, five of whom were
+spies. They were poor men, he further explained, many of them had
+families, and if they accepted money in a case like this,
+self-banishment was the only safe course, as the political society to
+which they belonged would place a price on their heads if they were
+detected.
+
+“The sum mentioned is a large one,” commented Don Ramon, “but it is
+nothing to the mental anguish that I suffer daily. If I had time and
+freedom, the money might be raised. But as it is, it is doubtful if I
+could command one fifth of it.”
+
+“You have a son,” said the chief, “a young man of twenty. Could he not
+as well as yourself raise this amount? A letter could be placed in his
+hands stating that a political society had sentenced you to death, and
+that your life was only spared from day to day by the sufferance of
+your captors. Ask him to raise this sum, tell him it would mean freedom
+and restoration to your family. Could he not do this as well as you?”
+
+“If time were given him, possibly. Can I send him such a letter?”
+pleaded Don Ramon, brightening with the hope of this new opportunity.
+
+“It would be impossible at present. The consent of all interested must
+first be gained. Our responsibility then becomes greater than yours. No
+false step must be taken. To-morrow is the soonest that we can get a
+hearing with all. There must be no dissenters to the plan or it fails,
+and then—well, the execution has been delayed long enough.”
+
+Thus the days wore on.
+
+The absence of the band, except for the few who guarded the prisoner,
+was policy on their part. They were receiving the news from the river
+villages daily, where the friends of Don Ramon discussed his absence in
+whispers. Their system of espionage was as careful as their methods
+were cruel and heartless. They even got reports from the ranch that not
+a member of the family had ventured away since its master’s capture.
+The local authorities were inactive. The bandits would play their cards
+for a high ransom.
+
+Early one morning after a troubled night’s rest, Don Ramon was awakened
+by the arrival of the robbers, several of whom were boisterously drunk.
+It was only with curses and drawn arms that the chief prevented these
+men from committing outrages on their helpless captive.
+
+After coffee was served, the chief unfolded his plot to them, with Don
+Ramon as a listener to the proceedings. Addressing them, he said that
+the prisoner’s offense was not one against them or theirs; that at best
+they were but the hirelings of others; that they were poorly paid, and
+that it had become sickening to him to do the bloody work for others.
+Don Ramon Mora had gold at his command, enough to give each more in a
+day than they could hope to receive for years of this inhuman
+servitude. He could possibly pay to each two thousand dollars for his
+freedom, guaranteeing them his gratitude, and pledging to refrain from
+any prosecution. Would they accept this offer or refuse it? As many as
+were in favor of granting his life would deposit in his hat a leaf from
+the mesquite; those opposed, a leaf from the wild cane which surrounded
+their camp.
+
+The vote asked for was watched by the prisoner as only a man could
+watch whose life hung in the balance. There were eight cane leaves to
+seven of the mesquite. The chief flew into a rage, cursed his followers
+for murderers for refusing to let the life blood run in this man, who
+had never done one of them an injury. He called them cowards for
+attacking the helpless, even accusing them of lack of respect for their
+chief’s wishes. The majority hung their heads like whipped curs. When
+he had finished his harangue, one of their number held up his hand to
+beg the privilege of speaking.
+
+“Yes, defend your dastardly act if you can,” said the chief.
+
+“Capitan,” said the man, making obeisance and tapping his breast,
+“there is an oath recorded here, in memory of a father who was hanged
+by the French for no other crime save that he was a patriot to the land
+of his birth. And you ask me to violate my vow! To the wind with your
+sympathy! To the gallows with our enemies!” There was a chorus of
+“bravos” and shouts of “Vivi el Mejico,” as the majority congratulated
+the speaker.
+
+When the chief led the prisoner back to his blanket, he spoke hopefully
+to Don Ramon, explaining that it was the mescal the men had drunk which
+made them so unreasonable and defiant. Promising to reason with them
+when they were more sober, he left Don Ramon with his solitary guard.
+The chief then returned to the band, where he received the
+congratulations of his partners in crime on his mock sympathy. It was
+agreed that the majority should be won over at the next council, which
+they would hold that evening.
+
+The chief returned to his prisoner during the day, and expressed a hope
+that by evening, when his followers would be perfectly sober, they
+would listen to reason. He doubted, however, if the sum first named
+would satisfy them, and insisted that he be authorized to offer more.
+To this latter proposition Don Ramon made answer, “I am helpless to
+promise you anything, but if you will only place me in correspondence
+with my son, all I possess, everything that can be hypothecated shall
+go to satisfy your demands. Only let it be soon, for this suspense is
+killing me.”
+
+An hour before dark the band was once more summoned together, with Don
+Ramon in their midst. The chief asked the majority if they had any
+compromise to offer to his proposition of the morning, and received a
+negative answer. “Then,” said he, “remember that a trusting wife and
+eight children, the eldest a lad of twenty, the youngest a toddling tot
+of a girl, claim a husband and a father’s love at the hands of the
+prisoner here. Are you such base ingrates that you can show no mercy,
+not even to the innocent?”
+
+The majority were abashed, and one by one fell back in the distance.
+Finally a middle-aged man came forward and said, “Give us five thousand
+dollars in gold apiece, the money to be in hand, and the prisoner may
+have his liberty, all other conditions made in the morning to be
+binding.”
+
+“Your answer to that, Don Ramon?” asked the chief.
+
+“I have promised my all. I ask nothing but life. I may have friends who
+will assist. Give me an opportunity to see what can be done.”
+
+“You shall have it,” replied the chief, “and on its success depends
+your liberty or the consequences.”
+
+Going amongst the band, he ordered them to meet again in three days at
+one of their rendezvous near Agua Dulce; to go by twos, visit the river
+towns on the way, to pick up all items of interest, and particularly to
+watch for any movement of the authorities.
+
+Retaining two of his companions to act as guards, the others saddled
+their horses and dispersed by various routes. The chief waited until
+the moon was well up, then abandoned their camp of the last ten days
+and set out towards Agua Dulce. To show his friendship for his victim,
+he removed all irons, but did not give freedom to Don Ramon’s horse,
+which was led, as before.
+
+It was after midnight when they recrossed the river to the American
+side, using a ford known to but a few smugglers. When day broke they
+were well inland and secure in the chaparral. Another night’s travel,
+and they were encamped in the place agreed upon. Reports which the
+members of the band brought to the chief showed that the authorities
+had made no movement as yet, so evidently this outrage had never been
+properly reported.
+
+Don Ramon was now furnished paper and pencil, and he addressed a letter
+to his son and family. The contents can easily be imagined. It
+concluded with an appeal to secrecy, and an order to observe in
+confidence and honor any compact made, as his life and liberty depended
+on it. When this missive had passed the scrutiny of the bandits, it was
+dispatched by one of their number to Señora Mora. It was just two weeks
+since Don Ramon’s disappearance, a fortnight of untold anguish and
+uncertainty to his family.
+
+The messenger reached Agua Dulce an hour before midnight, and seeing a
+light in the house, warned the inmates of his presence by the usual
+“Ave Maria,” a friendly salutation invoking the blessings of the saints
+on all within hearing. Supposing that some friend had a word for them,
+the son went outside, meeting the messenger.
+
+“Are you the son of Don Ramon Mora?” asked the bandit.
+
+“I am,” replied the young man; “won’t you dismount?”
+
+“No. I bear a letter to you from your father. One moment, señor! I have
+within call half a dozen men. Give no alarm. Read his instructions to
+you. I shall expect an answer in half an hour. The letter, señor.”
+
+The son hastened into the house to read his father’s communication. The
+bandit kept a strict watch over the premises to see that no
+demonstration was made against him. When the half hour was nearly up,
+the son came forward and tendered the answer. Passing the compliments
+of the moment, the man rode away as airily as though the question were
+of hearts instead of life. The reply was first read by Don Ramon, then
+turned over to the chief. It would require a second letter, which was
+to be called for in four days. Things were now nearing the danger
+point. They must be doubly vigilant; so all but the chief and two
+guards scattered out and watched every movement. Two or three towns on
+the river were to have special care. Friends of the family lived in
+these towns. They must be watched. The officers of the law were the
+most to be feared. Every bit of conversation overheard was carefully
+noted, with its effects and bearing.
+
+At the appointed time, another messenger was sent to the ranch, but
+only a part of the band returned to know the result. The sum which the
+son reported at his command was very disappointing. It would not
+satisfy the leaders, and there would be nothing for the others. It was
+out of the question to consider it. The chief cursed himself for
+letting his sympathy get the better of him. Why had he not listened to
+the majority and been true to an accepted duty? He called himself a
+woman for having acted as he had—a man unfit to be trusted.
+
+Don Ramon heard these self-reproaches of the chief with a heavy heart,
+and when opportunity occurred, he pleaded for one more chance. He had
+many friends. There had not been time enough to see them all. His lands
+and cattle had not been hypothecated. Give him one more chance. Have
+mercy.
+
+“I was a fool,” said the chief, “to listen to a condemned man’s hopes,
+but having gone so far I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.”
+Turning to Don Ramon, he said, “Write your son that if twice the sum
+named in his letter is not forthcoming within a week, it will be too
+late.”
+
+The chief now became very surly, often declaring that the case was
+hopeless; that the money could never be raised. He taunted his captive
+with the fact that he had always considered himself above his
+neighbors, and that now he could not command means enough to purchase
+the silence and friendship of a score of beggars! His former kindness
+changed to cruelty at every opportunity; and he took delight in hurling
+his venom on his helpless victim.
+
+Dispatching the letter, he ordered the band to scatter as before,
+appointing a meeting place a number of days hence. After the return of
+the messenger, he broke camp in the middle of the night, not forgetting
+to add other indignities to the heavy irons already on his victim.
+During the ensuing time they traveled the greater portion of each
+night. To the prisoner’s questions as to where they were he received
+only insulting replies. His inquiries served only to suggest other
+cruelties. One night they set out unusually early, the chief saying
+that they would recross the river before morning, so that if the ransom
+was not satisfactory, the execution might take place at once. On this
+night the victim was blindfolded. After many hours of riding—it was
+nearly morning when they halted—the bandage was removed from his eyes,
+and he was asked if he knew the place.
+
+“Yes, it is Agua Dulce.”
+
+The moon shone over its white stone buildings, quietly sleeping in the
+still hours of the night, as over the white, silent slabs of a country
+churchyard. Not a sound could be heard from any living thing. They
+dismounted and gagged their prisoner. Tying their horses at a
+respectable distance, they led their victim toward his home. Don Ramon
+was a small man, and could offer no resistance to his captors. They
+cautioned him that the slightest resistance would mean death, while
+compliance to their wishes carried a hope of life.
+
+Cautiously and with a stealthy step, they advanced like the thieves
+they were, their victim in the iron grasp of two strong guards, while a
+rope with a running noose around his neck, in the hands of the chief,
+made their gag doubly effective. A garden wall ran within a few feet of
+the rear of the house, and behind it they crouched. The only sound was
+the labored breathing of their prisoner. Hark! the cry of a child is
+heard within the house. Oh, God! it is his child, his baby girl.
+Listen! The ear of the mother has heard it, and her soothing voice has
+reached his anxious ear. His wife—the mother of his children—is now
+bending over their baby’s crib. The muscles of Don Ramon’s arms turn to
+iron. His eyes flash defiance at the grinning fiends who exult at his
+misery. The running noose tightens on his neck, and he gasps for
+breath. As they lead him back to his horse, his brain seems on fire; he
+questions his own sanity, even the mercy of Heaven.
+
+When the sun arose that morning, they were far away in one of the
+impenetrable thickets in which the country abounded. Since his capture
+Don Ramon had suffered, but never as now. Death would have been
+preferable, not that life had no claims upon him, but that he no longer
+had hopes of liberty. The uncertainty was unbearable. The bandits
+exercised caution enough to keep all means of self-destruction out of
+his reach. Hardened as they were, they noticed that their last racking
+of the prisoner had benumbed even hope.
+
+Sleep alone was kind to him, though he usually awoke to find his dreams
+a mockery. That night the answer to the second demand would arrive. A
+number of the band came in during the day and brought the rumor that
+the governor of the State had been notified of their high-handed
+actions. It was thought that a company of Texas Rangers would be
+ordered to the Rio Grande. This meant action, and soon. When the reply
+came from the son of Don Ramon, he was notified to have the money ready
+at a certain abandoned ranchita, though the amount, now increased, was
+not as large as was expected. It required two days longer for the
+delivery, which was to be made at midnight, and to be accompanied by
+not over two messengers.
+
+At this juncture, a squad of ten Texas Rangers disembarked at the
+nearest point on the railroad to this river village. The emergency
+appeal, which had finally reached the governor’s ear, was acted upon
+promptly, and though the men seemed very few in number, they were
+tried, experienced, fearless Rangers, from the crack company of the
+State. There was no waste of time after leaving the train. The little
+command set out apparently for the river home of Don Ramon, distant
+nearly a hundred miles. After darkness had set in, the captain of the
+squad cut his already small command in two, sending a lieutenant with
+four men to proceed by way of Agua Dulce ranch, the remainder
+continuing on to the river. The captain refused them even pack horse or
+blanket, allowing them only their arms. He instructed them to call
+themselves cowboys, and in case they met any Mexicans, to make
+inquiries for a well-known American ranch which was located in the
+chaparral. With a few simple instructions from his superior, the
+lieutenant and squad rode away into the darkness of a June night.
+
+It was in reality the dark hour before dawn when they reached Agua
+Dulce. As secretly as possible the lieutenant aroused Don Ramon’s wife
+and sought an interview with her. Speaking Spanish fluently, he
+explained his errand and her duty to put him in possession of all the
+facts in the case. Bewildered, as any gentlewoman would be under the
+circumstances, she reluctantly told the main facts. This officer
+treated Señora Mora with every courtesy, and was eventually rewarded
+when she requested him and his men to remain her guests until her son
+should return, which would be before noon. She explained that he would
+bring a large sum of money with him, which was to be the ransom price
+of her husband, and which was to be paid over at midnight within twenty
+miles of Agua Dulce. This information was food and raiment to the
+Ranger.
+
+The señora of Agua Dulce sent a servant to secrete the Ranger’s horses
+in a near-by pasture, and with saddles hidden inside the house, before
+the people of the ranch or the sun arose, five Rangers were sleeping
+under the roof of the _Casa primero_.
+
+It was late in the day when the lieutenant awoke to find Don Ramon,
+Jr., ready to welcome and join in furnishing any details unknown to his
+mother. The commercial instincts of the young man sided with the
+Rangers, but the mother—thank God!—knew no such impulses and thought of
+nothing save the return of her husband, the father of her brood. The
+officer considered only duty—being an unknown quantity to him. He
+assured his hostess that if she would confide in them, her husband
+would be returned to her with all dispatch. Concealing such things as
+he considered advisable from both mother and son, he outlined his
+plans. At the appointed time and place the money should be paid over
+and the compact adhered to to the letter. He reserved to himself and
+company, however, to furnish any red light necessary.
+
+An hour after dark, a messenger, Don Ramon, Jr., and five Rangers set
+out to fulfill all contracts pending and understood. The abandoned
+ranchita in the _monte_—the meeting point—had been at one time a stone
+house of some pretensions, where had formerly lived its builder, a
+wealthy, eccentric recluse. It had in previous years, however, been
+burned, so that now only crumbling walls remained, a gloomy, isolated,
+though picturesque ruin, standing in an opening several acres in
+extent, while trails, once in use, led to and from it.
+
+When the party arrived within two miles of the meeting point, an hour
+in advance of the appointed time, a halt was called. Under the
+direction of the lieutenant, the son and his companion were to proceed
+by an old trail, forsaking the regular pathway leading from Agua Dulce
+to the old ranch. The Ranger squad tied their horses and followed a
+respectful distance behind, near enough, however, to hear in case any
+guards might halt them. They were carefully cautioned not even to let
+Don Ramon, if he were present, know that rescue from another quarter
+was at hand. When the two sighted the ruin they noticed a dim light
+within the walls. Then, without a single challenge, they dashed up to
+the old house, amid a clatter of hoofs, and shouts of welcome from the
+bandits.
+
+The messengers were unarmed, and once inside the house were made
+prisoners, ironed, and ordered into a corner, where crouched Don Ramon
+Mora, now enfeebled by mental racking and physical abuse. The meeting
+of father and son will be spared the reader, yet in the young man’s
+heart was a hope that he dared not communicate.
+
+The night was warm. A fire flickered in the old fireplace, and around
+its circle gathered nine bandits to count and gloat over the blood
+money of their victim, as a miser might over his bags of gold. The
+bottle passed freely round the circle, and with toast and taunt and
+jeer the counting of the money was progressing. Suddenly, and with as
+little warning as if they had dropped down from among the stars, five
+Texas Rangers sprang through windows and doors, and without a word a
+flood of fire frothed from the mouths of ten six-shooters, hurling
+death into the circle about the fire. There was no cessation of the
+rain of lead until every gun was emptied, when the men sprang back,
+each to his window or door, where a carbine, carefully left, awaited
+his hand to complete the work of death. In the few moments that
+elapsed, the smoke arose and the fire burned afresh, revealing the
+accuracy of their aim. As they reëntered to review their work, two of
+the bandits were found alive and untouched, having thrown themselves in
+a corner amid the confusion of smoke in the onslaught. Thus they were
+spared the fate of the others, though the ghastly sight of seven of
+their number, translated from life into death, met their terrorized
+gaze. Human blood streamed across the once peaceful hearth, while
+brains bespattered life-sized figures in bas-relief of the Virgin Mary
+and Christ Child which adorned the broad columns on either side of the
+ample fireplace. In the throes of death, one bandit had floundered
+about until his hand rested in the fire, producing a sickening smell
+from the burning flesh.
+
+As Don Ramon was released, he stood for a few moments half dazed,
+looking in bewilderment at the awful spectacle before him. Then as the
+truth gradually dawned upon him,—that this sacrifice of blood meant
+liberty to himself,—he fell upon his knees among the still warm bodies
+of his tormentors, his face raised to the Virgin in exultation of joy
+and thanksgiving.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+THE PASSING OF PEG-LEG
+
+
+In the early part of September, ’91, the eastern overland express on
+the Denver and Rio Grande was held up and robbed at Texas Creek. The
+place is little more than a watering-station on that line, but it was
+an inviting place for hold-ups.
+
+Surrounded by the fastnesses of the front range of the Rockies, Peg-Leg
+Eldridge and his band selected this lonely station as best fitted for
+the transaction in hand. To the southwest lay the Sangre de Cristo
+range, in which the band had rendezvoused and planned this robbery.
+Farther to the southwest arose the snow-capped peaks of the Continental
+Divide, in whose silent solitude an army might have taken refuge and
+hidden.
+
+It was an inviting country to the robber. These mountains offered
+retreats that had never known the tread of human footsteps. Emboldened
+by the thought that pursuit would be almost a matter of impossibility,
+they laid their plans and executed them without a single hitch.
+
+About ten o’clock at night, as the train slowed up as usual to take
+water, the engineer and fireman were covered by two of the robbers. The
+other two—there were only four—cut the express car from the train, and
+the engineer and fireman were ordered to decamp. The robbers ran the
+engine and express car out nearly two miles, where, by the aid of
+dynamite, they made short work of a through safe that the messenger
+could not open. The express company concealed the amount of money lost
+to the robbers, but smelters, who were aware of certain retorts in
+transit by this train, were not so silent. These smelter products were
+in gold retorts of such a size that they could be made away with as
+easily as though they had reached the mint and been coined.
+
+There was scarcely any excitement among the passengers, so quickly was
+it over. While the robbery was in progress the wires from this station
+were flashing the news to headquarters. At a division of the railroad
+one hundred and fifty-six miles distant from the scene of the robbery,
+lived United States Marshal Bob Banks, whose success in pursuing
+criminals was not bounded by the State in which he lived. His
+reputation was in a large measure due to the successful use of
+bloodhounds. This officer’s calling compelled him to be both plainsman
+and mountaineer. He had the well-deserved reputation of being as
+unrelenting in the pursuit of criminals as death is in marking its
+victims.
+
+Within half an hour after the robbery was reported at headquarters, an
+engine had coupled to a caboose at the division where the marshal
+lived. He was equally hasty. To gather his arms and get his dogs aboard
+the caboose required but a few moments’ time.
+
+Everything ready, they pulled out with a clear track to their
+destination. Heavy traffic in coal had almost ruined the road-bed, but
+engine and caboose flew over it regardless of its condition. Halfway to
+their destination the marshal was joined by several officials, both
+railway and express. From there the train turned westward, up the
+valley of the Arkansas. Here was a track and an occasion that gave the
+most daring engineer license to throw the throttle wide open.
+
+The climax of this night’s run was through the Grand Cañon of the
+Arkansas. Into this gash in the earth’s surface plunged the engineer,
+as though it were an easy stretch of down-grade prairie. As the engine
+rounded turns, the headlight threw its rays up serried columns of
+granite half a mile high,—columns that rear their height in grotesque
+form and Gothic arch, polished by the waters of ages.
+
+As the officials agreed, after a full discussion with the marshal of
+every phase and possibility of capture, the hope of this night’s work
+and the punishment of the robbers rested almost entirely on three dogs
+lying on the floor, and, as the rocking of the car disturbed them,
+growling in their dreams. In their helplessness to cope with this
+outrage, they turned to these dumb animals as a welcome ally. Under the
+guidance of their master they were an aid whose value he well
+understood. Their sense of smell was more reliable than the sense of
+seeing in man. You can believe the dog when you doubt your own eyes.
+His opinion is unquestionably correct.
+
+As the train left the cañon it was but a short run to the scene of the
+depredation. During the night the few people who resided at this
+station were kept busy getting together saddle-horses for the officer’s
+posse. This was not easily done, as there were few horses at the
+station, while the horses of near-by ranches were turned loose in the
+open range for the night. However, upon the arrival of the train, Banks
+and the express people found mounts awaiting them to carry them to the
+place of the hold-up.
+
+After the robbers had finished their work during the fore part of the
+night, the train crew went out and brought back to the station the
+engine and express car. The engine was unhurt, but the express car was
+badly shattered, and the through safe was ruined by the successive
+charges of dynamite that were used to force it to yield up its
+treasure. The local safe was unharmed, the messenger having opened it
+in order to save it from the fate of its larger and stronger brother.
+The train proceeded on its way, with the loss of a few hours’ time and
+the treasure of its express.
+
+Day was breaking in the east as the posse reached the scene. The
+marshal lost no time circling about until the trail leaving was taken
+up. Even the temporary camp of the robbers was found in close proximity
+to the chosen spot. The experienced eye of this officer soon determined
+the number of men, though they led several horses. It was a cool,
+daring act of Peg-Leg and three men. Afterward, when his past history
+was learned, his leadership in this raid was established.
+
+Peg-Leg Eldridge was a product of that unfortunate era succeeding the
+civil war. During that strife the herds of the southwest were neglected
+to such an extent that thousands of cattle grew to maturity without
+ear-mark or brand to identify their owner. A good mount of horses, a
+rope and a running-iron in the hands of a capable man, were better than
+capital. The good old days when an active young man could brand
+annually fifteen calves—all better than yearlings—to every cow he
+owned, are looked back to to this day, from cattle king to the humblest
+of the craft, in pleasant reminiscence, though they will come no more.
+Eldridge was of that time, and when conditions changed, he failed to
+change with them. This was the reason that, under the changed condition
+of affairs, he frequently got his brand on some other man’s calf. This
+resulted in his losing a leg from a gunshot at the hands of a man he
+had thus outraged. Worse, it branded him for all time as a cattle
+thief, with every man’s hand against him. Thus the steps that led up to
+this September night were easy, natural, and gradual. This child of
+circumstances, a born plainsman like the Indian, read in plain, forest,
+and mountain, things which were not visible to other eyes. The stars
+were his compass by night, the heat waves of the plain warned him of
+the tempting mirage, while the cloud on the mountain’s peak or the wind
+in the pines which sheltered him alike spoke to him and he understood.
+
+The robbers’ trail was followed but a few miles, when their course was
+well established. They were heading into the Sangre de Cristo
+Mountains. Several hours were lost here by the pursuing party, as they
+were compelled to await the arrival of a number of pack horses; so when
+the trail was taken up in earnest they were at least twelve hours
+behind the robbers.
+
+In the ascent of the foot-hills the dogs led the posse, six in number,
+a merry chase. As they gradually rose to higher altitudes the trail of
+the robbers was more compact and easy to follow, except for the
+roughness of the mountain slope. Frequently the trail was but a single
+narrow path. Old game trails, where the elk and deer, drifting in the
+advance of winter, crossed the range, had been followed by the robbers.
+These game trails were certain to lead to the passes in the range.
+Thus, by the instinct given to the deer and elk against the winter’s
+storm, the humblest of His creatures had blazed for these train robbers
+an unerring pathway to the mountain’s pass.
+
+Along these paths the trail was so distinct that the dogs were an
+unnecessary adjunct to the pursuing party. These hounds, one of which
+was a veteran in the service, while the other two, being younger, were
+without that practice which perfects, showed an exuberance of energy
+and ambition in following the trail. The ancestry of the dogs was
+Russian. Hounds of this breed never give mouth, thus warning the hunted
+of their approach. Man-hunting is exciting sport. The possibility,
+though the trail may look hours old, that any turn of the trail may
+disclose the fugitives, keeps at the highest tension every nerve of the
+pursuer.
+
+All day long the marshal and posse climbed higher and higher on the
+rugged mountainside. Night came on as they reached the narrow plateau
+that formed the crest of the mountain, on which they found several
+small parks. Here they made the first halt since the start in the
+morning. The necessity of resting their saddle stock was very apparent
+to Banks, though he would gladly have pushed on. The only halt he could
+expect of the robbers was to save their own horses, and he must do the
+same. Forcing a tired horse an extra hour has left many an amateur
+rider afoot. He realized this. Knowing the necessity of being well
+mounted, the robbers had no doubt splendid horses. This was a
+reasonable supposition.
+
+Near midnight the marshal and posse set out once more on the trail. He
+was compelled to take it afoot now, depending on his favorite dog,
+which was under leash, the posse following with the mounts. The dogs
+led them several miles southward on this mountain crest. Here was where
+the dogs were valuable. The robbers had traveled in some places an
+entire mile over lava beds, not leaving as much as a trace which the
+eye could detect. Having the advantage of daylight, the robbers
+selected a rocky cliff, over which they began the descent of the
+western slope of this range. The ingenuity displayed by them to throw
+pursuit from their trail marked Peg-Leg as an artist in his calling.
+But with the aid of dogs and the dampness of night, their trail was as
+easily followed as though it had been made in snow.
+
+This declivity was rough, and in places every one was compelled to
+dismount. Progress was extremely slow, and when the rising sun tipped
+the peaks of the Continental Range, before them lay the beautiful
+landscape where the Rio Grande in a hundred mountain streams has her
+fountain-head. With only a few hours’ rest for men and animals during
+the day, night fell upon them before they had reached the mesa at the
+foot-hills on the western slope. An hour before nightfall they came
+upon the first camp or halt of the robbers. They had evidently spent
+but a short time here, there being no indication that they had slept.
+Criminals are inured to all kinds of hardship. They have been known to
+go for days without sleep, while smugglers, well mounted, have put a
+hundred miles of country behind them in a single night.
+
+The marshal and party pushed forward during the night, the country
+being more favorable. When morning came they had covered many a mile,
+and it was believed they had made time, as the trail seemed fresher.
+There were several ranches along the main stream in the valley, which
+the robbers had avoided with well-studied caution, showing that they
+had passed through in the daytime. There are several lines of railroad
+running through this valley section. These they crossed at points
+between stations, where observation would be almost impossible either
+by day or night. Inquiries at ranches failed on account of the lack of
+all accurate means of description. The posse was maintaining a due
+southwest course that was carrying them into the fastnesses of the main
+range of the western continent. Another full day of almost constant
+advance, and the trail had entered the undulating hills forming the
+approach of this second range of mountains. Physical exertion was
+beginning to tell on the animals, and they were compelled to make
+frequent halts in the ascent of this range.
+
+The fatigue was showing in the two younger dogs. Their feet had been
+cut in several places in crossing the first range of mountains. During
+the past nights in the valley, though their master was keeping a sharp
+lookout, they encountered several places where sand-burrs were
+plentiful. These burrs in the tender inner part of a dog’s foot, if not
+removed at once, soon lame it. Many times had the poor creatures lain
+down, licking their paws in anguish. On examination during the previous
+night, their feet were found to be webbed with this burr. Now, on
+climbing this second mountain, they began to show the lameness which
+their master so much feared, until it was almost impossible to make
+them take any interest in the trail. The old dog, however, seemed
+nothing the worse for his work.
+
+On reaching the first small park near the summit of this range, the
+pursuers were so exhausted that they lay down and took their first
+sleep, having been over three days and a half on the trail. The marshal
+himself slept several hours, but he was the last to go to sleep and the
+first to awake. Before going to sleep, and on arising, he was
+particular to bathe the dogs’ feet. The nearest approach to a liniment
+that he possessed was a lubricating tube for guns, which he fortunately
+had with him. This afforded relief.
+
+It was daybreak when the pursuers took up the trail. The plateau on the
+crest of this range was in places several miles wide, having a
+luxuriant growth of grass upon it. The course of the robbers continued
+to the southwest. The pursuers kept this plateau for several miles, and
+before descending the western slope of the range an abandoned camp was
+found, where the pursued had evidently made their first bunks.
+Indications of where horses had been picketed for hours, and where both
+men and horses had slept were evident. The trail where it left this
+deserted camp was in no wise encouraging to the marshal, as it looked
+at least thirty-six hours old. As the pursuers began the descent, they
+could see below them where the San Juan River meanders to the west
+until her waters, mingling with others, find their outlet into the
+Pacific. It was a trial of incessant toil down the mountain slope,
+wearisome alike to man and beast. Near the foot-hill of this mountain
+they were rewarded by finding a horse which the robbers had abandoned
+on account of an accident. He was an extremely fine horse, but so lame
+in the shoulders, apparently owing to a fall, that it was impossible to
+move him. The trail of the robbers kept in the foot-hills, finally
+doubling back an almost due east course. Now and then ranches were
+visible out on the mesa, but in all instances they were carefully
+avoided by the pursued.
+
+Spending a night in these hills, the posse prepared to make an early
+start. Here, however, they met their first serious trouble. Both of the
+younger dogs had feet so badly swollen that it was impossible to make
+them take any interest in the trail. After doing everything possible
+for them, their owner sent them to a ranch which was in sight several
+miles below in the valley. Several hours were lost to the party by this
+incident, though they were in no wise deterred in following the trail,
+still having the veteran dog. Late that afternoon they met a _pastor_
+who gave them a description of the robbers.
+
+“Yesterday morning,” said the shepherd, in broken Spanish, “shortly
+after daybreak, four men rode into my camp and asked for breakfast. I
+gave them coffee, but as I had no meat in my quarters, they tried to
+buy a lamb, which I have no right to sell. After drinking the coffee
+they tendered me money, which I refused. On leaving, one of their
+number rode into my flock and killed a kid. Taking it with him, he rode
+away with the others.”
+
+A good description of the robbers was secured from this simple
+shepherd,—a full description of men, horses, colors, and condition of
+pack. The next day nothing of importance developed, and the posse
+hugged the shelter of the hills skirting the mountain range, crossing
+into New Mexico. It was late that night when they went into camp on the
+trail. They had pushed forward with every energy, hoping to lessen the
+intervening distance between them and the robbers. The following
+morning on awakening, to the surprise and mortification of everybody,
+the old dog was unable to stand upon his feet. While this was felt to
+be a serious drawback, it did not necessarily check the chase.
+
+In bringing to bay over thirty criminals, one of whom had paid the
+penalty of his crime on the gallows, master and dog had heretofore been
+an invincible team. Old age and physical weakness had now overtaken the
+dog in an important chase, and the sympathy he deserved was not
+withheld, nor was he deserted. Tenderly as a mother would lift a sick
+child, Banks gathered him in his arms and lifted him to one of the
+posse on his horse. To the members of the posse it was a touching
+scene: they remembered him but a few months before pursuing a flying
+criminal, when the latter—seeing that escape was impossible and turning
+to draw his own weapon upon the officer, whose six-shooter had been
+emptied at the fugitive, but who with drawn knife was ready to close
+with him in the death struggle—immediately threw down his weapon and
+pleaded for his life.
+
+Yet this same officer could not keep back the tears that came into his
+eyes as he lifted this dumb comrade of other victories to a horse. With
+an earnest oath he brushed the incident away by assuring his posse that
+unless the earth opened and swallowed up the robbers they could not
+escape. A few hours after taking up the trail, a ranch was sighted and
+the dog was left, the instructions of the Good Samaritan being
+repeated. At this ranch they succeeded in buying two fresh horses,
+which proved a valuable addition to their mounts.
+
+Now it became a hunt of man by man. To an experienced trailer like the
+marshal there was little difficulty in keeping the trail. That the
+robbers kept to the outlying country was an advantage. Yet the latter
+traveled both night and day, while pursuit must of necessity be by day
+only. With the fresh horses secured, they covered a stretch of country
+hardly credible.
+
+During the day they found a place where the robbers had camped for at
+least a full day. A trail made by two horses had left this camp, and
+returned. The marshal had followed it to a rather pretentious Mexican
+rancho, where there was a small store kept. Here a second description
+of the two men was secured, though neither one was Peg-Leg. He was so
+indelibly marked that he was crafty enough to keep out of sight of so
+public a place as a store. These two had tried unsuccessfully to buy
+horses at this rancho.
+
+The next morning the representative of the express company left the
+posse to report progress. He was enabled to give such an exact
+description of the robbers that the company, through their detective
+system, were not long in locating the leader. The marshal and posse
+pushed on with the same unremitting energy. The trail was now almost
+due east. The population of the country was principally Mexican, and
+even Mexicans the robbers avoided as much as possible. They had,
+however, bought horses at several ranches, and were always liberal in
+the use of money, but very exacting in regard to the quality of
+horseflesh they purchased; the best was none too good for them. They
+passed north of old Santa Fé town, and entering a station on the line
+of railway by that name late at night, they were liberal patrons of the
+gaming tables that the town tolerated. The next morning they had
+disappeared.
+
+At no time did the pursuers come within two days of them. This was
+owing to the fact that they traveled by night as well as day. At the
+last-mentioned point messages were exchanged with the express company
+with little loss of time. Banks had asked that certain points on the
+railway be watched in the hope of capture while crossing the country,
+but the effort was barren of results. In following the trail the
+marshal had recrossed the continuation of the first range of mountains
+which they had crossed to the west ten days before, or the morning
+after the robbery, three hundred miles southward. There was nothing
+difficult in the passage of this range of mountains, and now before
+them stretched the endless prairie to the eastward. Here Banks
+seriously felt the loss of his dogs. This was a country that they could
+be used in to good advantage. It would then be a question of endurance
+of men and horses. As it was, he could work only by day. Two lines of
+railway were yet to be crossed if the band held its course. The same
+tactics were resorted to as formerly, yet this vigilance and precaution
+availed nothing, as Peg-Leg crossed them carefully between two of the
+watched places. Owing to his occupation, he knew the country better by
+night than day.
+
+Banks was met by the officials of the express company on one of these
+lines of railroad. The exhaustive amount of information that they had
+been able to collect regarding this interesting man with the wooden leg
+was astonishing. From out of the abundance of the data there were a few
+items that were of interest to the officer. Several of Eldridge’s
+haunts when not actively engaged in his profession were located. In one
+of these haunts was a woman, and toward this one he was heading, though
+it was many a weary mile distant.
+
+At the marshal’s request the express people had brought bloodhounds
+with them. The dogs proved worthless, and the second day were
+abandoned. When the trail crossed the Gulf Railway the robbers were
+three days ahead. The posse had now been fourteen days on the trail.
+Banks followed them one day farther, himself alone, leaving his tired
+companions at a station near the line of the Panhandle of Texas. This
+extra day’s ride was to satisfy himself that the robbers were making
+for one of their haunts. They kept, as he expected, down between the
+two Canadians.
+
+After following the trail until he was thoroughly satisfied of their
+destination, the marshal retraced his steps and rejoined his posse. The
+first train carried him and the posse back to the headquarters of the
+express company.
+
+Two weeks later, at a country store in the Chickasaw Nation, there was
+a horse race of considerable importance. The country side were gathered
+to witness it. The owners of the horses had made large wagers on the
+race. Outsiders wagered money and livestock to a large amount. There
+were a number of strangers present, which was nothing unusual. As the
+race was being run and every eye was centred on the outcome, a stranger
+present put a six-shooter to a very interested spectator’s ear, and
+informed him that he was a prisoner. Another stranger did the same
+thing to another spectator. They also snapped handcuffs on both of
+them. One of these spectators had a peg-leg. They were escorted to a
+waiting rig, and when they alighted from it were on the line of a
+railroad forty miles distant. One of these strangers was a United
+States marshal, who for the past month had been very anxious to meet
+these same gentlemen.
+
+Once safe from the rescue of friends of these robbers, the marshal
+regaled his guest with the story of the chase, which had now
+terminated. He was even able to give Eldridge a good part of his
+history. But when he attempted to draw him out as to the whereabouts of
+the other two, Peg was sullenly ignorant of anything. They were never
+captured, having separated before reaching the haunt of Mr. Eldridge.
+Eldridge was tried in a Federal court in Colorado and convicted of
+train robbery. He went over the road for a term of years far beyond the
+lease of his natural life. He, with the companion captured at the same
+time, was taken by an officer of the court to Detroit for confinement.
+When within an hour’s ride of the prison—his living grave—he raised his
+ironed hands, and twisting from a blue flannel shirt which he wore a
+large pearl button, said to the officer in charge:—
+
+“Will you please take this button back and give it, with my
+compliments, to that human bloodhound, and say to him that I’m sorry
+that I didn’t anticipate meeting him? If I had, it would have saved you
+this trip with me. He might have got me, but I wouldn’t have needed a
+trial when he did.”
+
+
+
+
+XII
+IN THE HANDS OF HIS FRIENDS
+
+
+There was a painting at the World’s Fair at Chicago named “The Reply,”
+in which the lines of two contending armies were distinctly outlined.
+One of these armies had demanded the surrender of the other. The reply
+was being written by a little fellow, surrounded by grim veterans of
+war. He was not even a soldier. But in this little fellow’s countenance
+shone a supreme contempt for the enemy’s demand. His patriotism beamed
+out as plainly as did that of the officer dictating to him. Physically
+he was debarred from being a soldier; still there was a place where he
+could be useful.
+
+So with Little Jack Martin. He was a cripple and could not ride, but he
+could cook. If the way to rule men is through the stomach, Jack was a
+general who never knew defeat. The “J+H” camp, where he presided over
+the kitchen, was noted for good living. Jack’s domestic tastes followed
+him wherever he went, so that he surrounded himself at this camp with
+chickens, and a few cows for milk. During the spring months, when the
+boys were away on the various round-ups, he planted and raised a fine
+garden. Men returning from a hard month’s work would brace themselves
+against fried chicken, eggs, milk, and fresh vegetables. After drinking
+alkali water for a month and living out of tin cans, who wouldn’t love
+Jack? In addition to his garden, he always raised a fine patch of
+watermelons. This camp was an oasis in the desert. Every man was Jack’s
+friend, and an enemy was an unknown personage. The peculiarity about
+him, aside from his deformity, was his ability to act so much better
+than he could talk. In fact he could barely express his simplest wants
+in words.
+
+Cripples are usually cross, irritable, and unpleasant companions. Jack
+was the reverse. His best qualities shone their brightest when there
+were a dozen men around to cook for. When they ate heartily he felt he
+was useful. If a boy was sick, Jack could make a broth, or fix a cup of
+beef tea like a mother or sister. When he went out with the wagon
+during beef-shipping season, a pot of coffee simmered over the fire all
+night for the boys on night herd. Men going or returning on guard liked
+to eat. The bread and meat left over from the meals of the day were
+always left convenient for the boys. It was the many little things that
+he thought of which made him such a general favorite with every one.
+
+Little Jack was middle-aged when the proclamation of the President
+opening the original Oklahoma was issued. This land was to be thrown
+open in April. It was not a cow-country then, though it had been once.
+There was a warning in this that the Strip would be next. The dominion
+of the cowman was giving way to the homesteader. One day Jack found
+opportunity to take Miller, our foreman, into his confidence. They had
+been together five or six years. Jack had coveted a spot in the section
+which was to be thrown open, and he asked the foreman to help him get
+it. He had been all over the country when it was part of the range, and
+had picked out a spot on Big Turkey Creek, ten miles south of the Strip
+line. It gradually passed from one to another of us what Jack wanted.
+At first we felt blue about it, but Miller, who could see farther than
+the rest of us, dispelled the gloom by announcing at dinner, “Jack is
+going to take a claim if this outfit has a horse in it and a man to
+ride him. It is only a question of a year or two at the farthest until
+the rest of us will be guiding a white mule between two corn rows, and
+glad of the chance. If Jack goes now, he will have just that many years
+the start of the rest of us.”
+
+We nerved ourselves and tried to appear jolly after this talk of the
+foreman. We entered into quite a discussion as to which horse would be
+the best to make the ride with. The ranch had several specially good
+saddle animals. In chasing gray wolves in the winter those qualities of
+endurance which long races developed in hunting these enemies of
+cattle, pointed out a certain coyote-colored horse, whose color marks
+and “Dead Tree” brand indicated that he was of Spanish extraction.
+Intelligently ridden with a light rider he was First Choice on which to
+make this run. That was finally agreed to by all. There was no trouble
+selecting the rider for this horse with the zebra marks. The lightest
+weight was Billy Edwards. This qualification gave him the preference
+over us all.
+
+Jack described the spot he desired to claim by an old branding-pen
+which had been built there when it had been part of the range. Billy
+had ironed up many a calf in those same pens himself. “Well, Jack,”
+said Billy, “if this outfit don’t put you on the best quarter section
+around that old corral, you’ll know that they have throwed off on you.”
+
+It was two weeks before the opening day. The coyote horse was given
+special care from this time forward. He feasted on corn, while others
+had to be content with grass. In spite of all the bravado that was
+being thrown into these preparations, there was noticeable a deep
+undercurrent of regret. Jack was going from us. Every one wanted him to
+go, still these dissolving ties moved the simple men to acts of boyish
+kindness. Each tried to outdo the others, in the matter of a parting
+present to Jack. He could have robbed us then. It was as bad as a
+funeral. Once before we felt similarly when one of the boys died at
+camp. It was like an only sister leaving the family circle.
+
+Miller seemed to enjoy the discomfiture of the rest of us. This
+creedless old Christian had fine strata in his make-up. He and Jack
+planned continually for the future. In fact they didn’t live in the
+present like the rest of us. Two days before the opening, we loaded up
+a wagon with Jack’s effects. Every man but the newly installed cook
+went along. It was too early in the spring for work to commence. We all
+dubbed Jack a boomer from this time forward. The horse so much depended
+on was led behind the wagon.
+
+On the border we found a motley crowd of people. Soldiers had gathered
+them into camps along the line to prevent “sooners” from entering
+before the appointed time. We stopped in a camp directly north of the
+claim our little boomer wanted. One thing was certain, it would take a
+better horse than ours to win the claim away from us. No sooner could
+take it. That and other things were what all of us were going along
+for.
+
+The next day when the word was given that made the land public domain,
+Billy was in line on the coyote. He held his place to the front with
+the best of them. After the first few miles, the others followed the
+valley of Turkey Creek, but he maintained his course like wild fowl,
+skirting the timber which covered the first range of hills back from
+the creek. Jack followed with the wagon, while the rest of us rode
+leisurely, after the first mile or so. When we saw Edwards bear
+straight ahead from the others, we argued that a sooner only could beat
+us for the claim. If he tried to out-hold us, it would be six to one,
+as we noticed the leaders closely when we slacked up. By not following
+the valley, Billy would cut off two miles. Any man who could ride
+twelve miles to the coyote’s ten with Billy Edwards in the saddle was
+welcome to the earth. That was the way we felt. We rode together,
+expecting to make the claim three quarters of an hour behind our man.
+When near enough to sight it, we could see Billy and another horseman
+apparently protesting with one another. A loud yell from one of us
+attracted our man’s attention. He mounted his horse and rode out and
+met us. “Well, fellows, it’s the expected that’s happened this time,”
+said he. “Yes, there’s a sooner on it, and he puts up a fine bluff of
+having ridden from the line; but he’s a liar by the watch, for there
+isn’t a wet hair on his horse, while the sweat was dripping from the
+fetlocks of this one.”
+
+“If you are satisfied that he is a sooner,” said Miller, “he has to
+go.”
+
+“Well, he is a lying sooner,” said Edwards.
+
+We reined in our horses and held a short parley. After a brief
+discussion of the situation, Miller said to us: “You boys go down to
+him,—don’t hurt him or get hurt, but make out that you’re going to hang
+him. Put plenty of reality into it, and I’ll come in in time to save
+him and give him a chance to run for his life.”
+
+We all rode down towards him, Miller bearing off towards the right of
+the old corral,—rode out over the claim noticing the rich soil thrown
+up by the mole-hills. When we came up to our sooner, all of us
+dismounted. Edwards confronted him and said, “Do you contest my right
+to this claim?”
+
+“I certainly do,” was the reply.
+
+“Well, you won’t do so long,” said Edwards. Quick as a flash Mouse
+prodded the cold steel muzzle of a six-shooter against his ear. As the
+sooner turned his head and looked into Mouse’s stern countenance, one
+of the boys relieved him of an ugly gun and knife that dangled from his
+belt. “Get on your horse,” said Mouse, emphasizing his demand with an
+oath, while the muzzle of a forty-five in his ear made the order
+undebatable. Edwards took the horse by the bits and started for a large
+black-jack tree which stood near by. Reaching it, Edwards said, “Better
+use Coon’s rope; it’s manilla and stronger. Can any of you boys tie a
+hangman’s knot?” he inquired when the rope was handed him.
+
+“Yes, let me,” responded several.
+
+“Which limb will be best?” inquired Mouse.
+
+“Take this horse by the bits,” said Edwards to one of the boys, “till I
+look.” He coiled the rope sailor fashion, and made an ineffectual
+attempt to throw it over a large limb which hung out like a yard-arm,
+but the small branches intervening defeated his throw. While he was
+coiling the rope to make a second throw, some one said, “Mebby so he’d
+like to pray.”
+
+“What! him pray?” said Edwards. “Any prayer that he might offer
+couldn’t get a hearing amongst men, let alone above, where liars are
+forbidden.”
+
+“Try that other limb,” said Coon to Edwards; “there’s not so much brush
+in the way; we want to get this job done sometime to-day.” As Edwards
+made a successful throw, he said, “Bring that horse directly
+underneath.” At this moment Miller dashed up and demanded, “What in
+hell are you trying to do?”
+
+“This sheep-thief of a sooner contests my right to this claim,” snapped
+Edwards, “and he has played his last cards on this earth. Lead that
+horse under here.”
+
+“Just one moment,” said Miller. “I think I know this man—think he
+worked for me once in New Mexico.” The sooner looked at Miller
+appealingly, his face blanched to whiteness. Miller took the bridle
+reins out of the hands of the boy who was holding the horse, and
+whispering something to the sooner said to us, “Are you all ready?”
+
+“Just waiting on you,” said Edwards. The sooner gathered up the reins.
+Miller turned the horse halfway round as though he was going to lead
+him under the tree, gave him a slap in the flank with his hand, and the
+sooner, throwing the rowels of his spurs into the horse, shot out from
+us like a startled deer. We called to him to halt, as half a dozen
+six-shooters encouraged him to go by opening a fusillade on the fleeing
+horseman, who only hit the high places while going. Nor did we let up
+fogging him until we emptied our guns and he entered the timber. There
+was plenty of zeal in this latter part, as the lead must have zipped
+and cried near enough to give it reality. Our object was to shoot as
+near as possible without hitting.
+
+Other horsemen put in an appearance as we were unsaddling and preparing
+to camp, for we had come to stay a week if necessary. In about an hour
+Jack joined us, speechless as usual, his face wreathed in smiles. The
+first step toward a home he could call his own had been taken. We told
+him about the trouble we had had with the sooner, a story which he
+seemed to question, until Miller confirmed it. We put up a tent among
+the black-jacks, as the nights were cool, and were soon at peace with
+all the world.
+
+At supper that evening Edwards said: “When the old settlers hold their
+reunions in the next generation, they’ll say, ‘Thirty years ago Uncle
+Jack Martin settled over there on Big Turkey,’ and point him out to
+their children as one of the pioneer fathers.”
+
+No one found trouble in getting to sleep that night, and the next day
+arts long forgotten by most of us were revived. Some plowed up the old
+branding-pen for a garden. Others cut logs for a cabin. Every one did
+two ordinary days’ work. The getting of the logs together was the
+hardest. We sawed and chopped and hewed for dear life. The first few
+days Jack and one of the boys planted a fine big garden. On the fourth
+day we gave up the tent, as the smoke curled upward from our own
+chimney, in the way that it does in well-told stories. The last night
+we spent with Jack was one long to be remembered. A bright fire snapped
+and crackled in the ample fireplace. Every one told stories. Several of
+the boys could sing “The Lone Star Cow-trail,” while “Sam Bass” and
+“Bonnie Black Bess” were given with a vim.
+
+The next morning we were to leave for camp. One of the boys who would
+work for us that summer, but whose name was not on the pay-roll until
+the round-up, stayed with Jack. We all went home feeling fine, and
+leaving Jack happy as a bird in his new possession. As we were saddling
+up to leave, Miller said to Jack, “Now if you’re any good, you’ll
+delude some girl to keep house for you ’twixt now and fall. Remember
+what the Holy Book says about it being hard luck for man to be alone.
+You notice all your boomer neighbors have wives. That’s a hint to you
+to do likewise.”
+
+We were on the point of mounting, when the coyote horse began to act up
+in great shape. Some one said to Edwards, “Loosen your cinches!” “Oh,
+it’s nothing but the corn he’s been eating and a few days’ rest,” said
+Miller. “He’s just running a little bluff on Billy.” As Edwards went to
+put his foot in the stirrup a second time, the coyote reared like a
+circus horse. “Now look here, colty,” said Billy, speaking to the
+horse, “my daddy rode with Old John Morgan, the Confederate cavalry
+raider, and he’d be ashamed of any boy he ever raised that couldn’t
+ride a bad horse like you. You’re plum foolish to act this way. Do you
+think I’ll walk and lead you home?” He led him out a few rods from the
+others and mounted him without any trouble. “He just wants to show Jack
+how it affects a cow-horse to graze a few days on a boomer’s
+claim,—that’s all,” said Edwards, when he joined us.
+
+“Now, Jack,” said Miller, as a final parting, “if you want a cow, I’ll
+send one down, or if you need anything, let us know and we’ll come
+a-running. It’s a bad example you’ve set us to go booming this way, but
+we want to make a howling success out of you, so we can visit you next
+winter. And mind what I told you about getting married,” he called back
+as he rode away.
+
+We reached camp by late noon. Miller kept up his talk about what a fine
+move Jack had made; said that we must get him a stray beef for his next
+winter’s meat; kept figuring constantly what else he could do for Jack.
+“You come around in a few years and you’ll find him as cosy as a coon,
+and better off than any of us,” said Miller, when we were talking about
+his farming. “I’ve slept under wet blankets with him, and watched him
+kindle a fire in the snow, too often not to know what he’s made of.
+There’s good stuff in that little rascal.”
+
+About the ranch it seemed lonesome without Jack. It was like coming
+home from school when we were kids and finding mother gone to the
+neighbor’s. We always liked to find her at home. We busied ourselves
+repairing fences, putting in flood-gates on the river, doing anything
+to keep away from camp. Miller himself went back to see Jack within ten
+days, remaining a week. None of us stayed at the home ranch any more
+than we could help. We visited other camps on hatched excuses, until
+the home round-ups began. When any one else asked us about Jack, we
+would blow about what a fine claim he had, and what a boost we had
+given him. When we buckled down to the summer’s work the gloom
+gradually left us. There were men to be sent on the eastern, western,
+and middle divisions of the general round-up of the Strip. Two men were
+sent south into the Cheyenne country to catch anything that had
+winter-drifted. Our range lay in the middle division. Miller and one
+man looked after it on the general round-up.
+
+It was a busy year with us. Our range was full stocked, and by early
+fall was rich with fat cattle. We lived with the wagon after the
+shipping season commenced. Then we missed Jack, although the new cook
+did the best he knew how. Train after train went out of our pasture,
+yet the cattle were never missed. We never went to camp now; only the
+wagon went in after supplies, though we often came within sight of the
+stabling and corrals in our work.
+
+One day, late in the season, we were getting out a train load of “Barb
+Wire” cattle, when who should come toddling along on a plow nag but
+Jack himself. Busy as we were, he held quite a levee, though he didn’t
+give down much news, nor have anything to say about himself or the
+crops. That night at camp, while the rest of us were arranging the
+guards for the night, Miller and Jack prowled off in an opposite
+direction from the beef herd, possibly half a mile, and afoot, too. We
+could all see that something was working. Some trouble was bothering
+Jack, and he had come to a friend in need, so we thought. They did not
+come back to camp until the moon was up and the second guard had gone
+out to relieve the first. When they came back not a word was spoken.
+They unrolled Miller’s bed and slept together.
+
+The next morning as Jack was leaving us to return to his claim, we
+overheard him say to Miller, “I’ll write you.” As he faded from our
+sight, Miller smiled to himself, as though he was tickled about
+something. Finally Billy Edwards brought things to a head by asking
+bluntly, “What’s up with Jack? We want to know.”
+
+“Oh, it’s too good,” said Miller. “If that little game-legged rooster
+hasn’t gone and deluded some girl back in the State into marrying him,
+I’m a horse-thief. You fellows are all in the play, too. Came here
+special to see when we could best get away. Wants every one of us to
+come. He’s built another end to his house, double log style, floored
+both rooms and the middle. Says he will have two fiddlers, and promises
+us the hog killingest time of our lives. I’ve accepted the invitation
+on behalf of the ‘J+H’s’ without consulting any one.”
+
+“But supposing we are busy when it takes place,” said Mouse, “then
+what?”
+
+“But we won’t be,” answered Miller. “It isn’t every day that we have a
+chance at a wedding in our little family, and when we get the word,
+this outfit quits then and there. Ordinary callings in life, like
+cattle matters, must go to the rear until important things are attended
+to. Every man is expected to don his best togs, and dance to the centre
+on the word. If it takes a week to turn the trick properly, good
+enough. Jack and his bride must have a blow-out right. This outfit must
+do themselves proud. It will be our night to howl, and every man will
+be a wooly wolf.”
+
+We loaded the beeves out the next day, going back after two trains of
+“Turkey Track” cattle. While we were getting these out, Miller cut out
+two strays and a cow or two, and sent them to the horse pasture at the
+home camp. It was getting late in the fall, and we figured that a few
+more shipments would end it. Miller told the owners to load out what
+they wanted while the weather was fit, as our saddle horses were
+getting worn out fast. As we were loading out the last shipment of
+mixed cattle of our own, the letter came to Miller. Jack would return
+with his bride on a date only two days off, and the festivities were
+set for one day later. We pulled into headquarters that night, the
+first time in six weeks, and turned everything loose. The next morning
+we overhauled our Sunday bests, and worried around trying to pick out
+something for a wedding present.
+
+Miller gave the happy pair a little “Flower Pot” cow, which he had
+rustled in the Cheyenne country on the round-up a few years before.
+Edwards presented him with a log chain that a bone-picker had lost in
+our pasture. Mouse gave Jack a four-tined fork which the hay outfit had
+forgotten when they left. Coon Floyd’s compliments went with five
+cow-bells, which we always thought he rustled from a boomer’s wagon
+that broke down over on the Reno trail. It bothered some of us to
+rustle something for a present, for you know we couldn’t buy anything.
+We managed to get some deer’s antlers, a gray wolf’s skin for the
+bride’s tootsies, and several colored sheepskins, which we had bought
+from a Mexican horse herd going up the trail that spring. We killed a
+nice fat little beef, the evening before we started, hanging it out
+over night to harden. None of the boys knew the brand; in fact, it’s
+bad taste to remember the brand on anything you’ve beefed. No one
+troubles himself to notice it carefully. That night a messenger brought
+a letter to Miller, ordering him to ship out the remnant of “Diamond
+Tail” cattle as soon as possible. They belonged to a northwest Texas
+outfit, and we were maturing them. The messenger stayed all night, and
+in the morning asked, “Shall I order cars for you?”
+
+“No, I have a few other things to attend to first,” answered Miller.
+
+We took the wagon with us to carry our bedding and the other plunder,
+driving along with us a cow and a calf of Jack’s, the little “Flower
+Pot” cow, and a beef. Our outfit reached Jack’s house by the middle of
+the afternoon. The first thing was to be introduced to the bride. Jack
+did the honors himself, presenting each one of us, and seemed just as
+proud as a little boy with new boots. Then we were given introductions
+to several good-looking neighbor girls. We began to feel our own
+inferiority.
+
+While we were hanging up the quarters of beef on some pegs on the north
+side of the cabin, Edwards said, whispering, “Jack must have pictured
+this claim mighty hifalutin to that gal, for she’s a way up
+good-looker. Another thing, watch me build to the one inside with the
+black eyes. I claimed her first, remember. As soon as we get this beef
+hung up I’m going in and sidle up to her.”
+
+“We won’t differ with you on that point,” remarked Mouse, “but if she
+takes any special shine to a runt like you, when there’s boys like the
+rest of us standing around, all I’ve got to say is, her tastes must be
+a heap sight sorry and depraved. I expect to dance with the bride—in
+the head set—a whirl or two myself.”
+
+“If I’d only thought,” chimed in Coon, “I’d sent up to the State and
+got me a white shirt and a standing collar and a red necktie. You
+galoots out-hold me on togs. But where I was raised, back down in Palo
+Pinto County, Texas, I was some punkins as a ladies’ man myself—you
+hear me.”
+
+“Oh, you look all right,” said Edwards. “You would look all right with
+only a cotton string around your neck.”
+
+After tending to our horses, we all went into the house. There sat
+Miller talking to the bride just as if he had known her always, with
+Jack standing with his back to the fire, grinning like a cat eating
+paste. The neighbor girls fell to getting supper, and our cook turned
+to and helped. We managed to get fairly well acquainted with the
+company by the time the meal was over. The fiddlers came early, in
+fact, dined with us. Jack said if there were enough girls, we could run
+three sets, and he thought there would be, as he had asked every one
+both sides of the creek for five miles. The beds were taken down and
+stowed away, as there would be no use for them that night.
+
+The company came early. Most of the young fellows brought their best
+girls seated behind them on saddle horses. This manner gave the girl a
+chance to show her trustful, clinging nature. A horse that would carry
+double was a prize animal. In settling up a new country, primitive
+methods crop out as a matter of necessity.
+
+Ben Thorn, an old-timer in the Strip, called off. While the company was
+gathering, the fiddlers began to tune up, which sent a thrill through
+us. When Ben gave the word, “Secure your pardners for the first
+quadrille,” Miller led out the bride to the first position in the best
+room, Jack’s short leg barring him as a participant. This was the
+signal for the rest of us, and we fell in promptly. The fiddles struck
+up “Hounds in the Woods,” the prompter’s voice rang out “Honors to your
+pardner,” and the dance was on.
+
+Edwards close-herded the black-eyed girl till supper time. Not a one of
+us got a dance with her even. Mouse admitted next day, as we rode home,
+that he squeezed her hand several times in the grand right and left,
+just to show her that she had other admirers, that she needn’t throw
+herself away on any one fellow, but it was no go. After supper Billy
+corralled her in a corner, she seeming willing, and stuck to her until
+her brother took her home nigh daylight.
+
+Jack got us boys pardners for every dance. He proved himself clean
+strain that night, the whitest little Injun on the reservation. We
+knocked off dancing about midnight and had supper,—good coffee with no
+end of way-up fine chuck. We ate as we danced, heartily. Supper over,
+the dance went on full blast. About two o’clock in the morning, the
+wire edge was well worn off the revelers, and they showed signs of
+weariness. Miller, noticing it, ordered the Indian war-dance as given
+by the Cheyennes. That aroused every one and filled the sets instantly.
+The fiddlers caught the inspiration and struck into “Sift the Meal and
+save the Bran.” In every grand right and left, we ki-yied as we had
+witnessed Lo in the dance on festive occasions. At the end of every
+change, we gave a war-whoop, some of the girls joining in, that would
+have put to shame any son of the Cheyennes.
+
+It was daybreak when the dance ended and the guests departed. Though we
+had brought our blankets with us, no one thought of sleeping. Our cook
+and one of the girls got breakfast. The bride offered to help, but we
+wouldn’t let her turn her hand. At breakfast we discussed the incidents
+of the night previous, and we all felt that we had done the occasion
+justice.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+A QUESTION OF POSSESSION
+
+
+Along in the 80’s there occurred a question of possession in regard to
+a brand of horses, numbering nearly two hundred head. Courts had
+figured in former matters, but at this time they were not appealed to,
+owing to the circumstances. This incident occurred on leased Indian
+lands unprovided with civil courts,—in a judicial sense,
+“No-Man’s-Land.” At this time it seemed that _might_ graced the
+woolsack, while on one side Judge Colt cited his authority, only to be
+reversed by Judge Parker, breech-loader, short-barreled, a full-choke
+ten bore. The clash of opinions between these two eminent western
+authorities was short, determined, and to the point.
+
+A man named Gray had settled in one of the northwest counties in Texas
+while it was yet the frontier, and by industry and economy of himself
+and family had established a comfortable home. As a ranchman he had
+raised the brand of horses in question. The history of this man is
+somewhat obscured before his coming to Texas. But it was known and
+admitted that he was a bankrupt, on account of surety debts which he
+was compelled to pay for friends in his former home in Kentucky. Many a
+good man had made similar mistakes before him. His neighbors spoke well
+of him in Texas, and he was looked upon as a good citizen in general.
+
+Ten years of privation and hardship, in their new home, had been met
+and overcome, and now he could see a ray of hope for the better. The
+little prosperity which was beginning to dawn upon himself and family
+met with a sudden shock, in the form of an old judgment, which he
+always contended his attorneys had paid. In some manner this judgment
+was revived, transferred to the jurisdiction of his district, and an
+execution issued against his property. Sheriff Ninde of this county was
+not as wise as he should have been. When the execution was placed in
+his hands, he began to look about for property to satisfy the judgment.
+The exemption laws allowed only a certain number of gentle horses, and
+as any class of range horses had a cash value then, this brand of
+horses was levied on to satisfy the judgment.
+
+The range on which these horses were running was at this time an open
+one, and the sheriff either relied on his reputation as a bad man, or
+probably did not know any better. The question of possession did not
+bother him. Still this stock was as liable to range in one county as
+another. There is one thing quite evident: the sheriff had overlooked
+the nature of this man Gray, for he was no weakling, inclined to sit
+down and cry. It was thought that legal advice caused him to take the
+step he did, and it may be admitted, with no degree of shame, that
+advice was often given on lines of justice if not of law, in the Lone
+Star State. There was a time when the decisions of Judge Lynch in that
+State had the hearty approval of good men. Anyhow, Gray got a few of
+his friends together, gathered his horses without attracting attention,
+and within a day’s drive crossed into the Indian Territory, where he
+could defy all the sheriffs in Texas.
+
+When this cold fact first dawned on Sheriff Ninde, he could hardly
+control himself. With this brand of horses five or six days ahead of
+him he became worried. The effrontery of any man to deny his
+authority—the authority of a duly elected sheriff—was a reflection on
+his record. His bondsmen began to inquire into the situation; in case
+the property could not be recovered, were they liable as bondsmen?
+Things looked bad for the sheriff.
+
+The local papers in supporting his candidacy for this office had often
+spoken of him and his chief deputy as human bloodhounds,—a terror to
+evil doers. Their election, they maintained, meant a strict enforcement
+of the laws, and assured the community that a better era would dawn in
+favor of peace and security of life and property. Ninde was resourceful
+if anything. He would overtake those horses, overpower the men if
+necessary, and bring back to his own bailiwick that brand of
+horse-stock. At least, that was his plan. Of course Gray might object,
+but that would be a secondary matter. Sheriff Ninde would take time to
+do this. Having made one mistake, he would make another to right it.
+
+Gray had a brother living in one of the border towns of Kansas, and it
+was thought he would head for this place. Should he take the horses
+into the State, all the better, as they could invoke the courts of
+another State and get other sheriffs to help.
+
+Sixty years of experience with an uncharitable world had made Gray
+distrustful of his fellow man, though he did not wish to be so. So when
+he reached his brother in Kansas without molestation, he exercised
+caution enough to leave the herd of horses in the territory. The courts
+of this neutral strip were Federal, and located at points in adjoining
+States, but there was no appeal to them in civil cases. United States
+marshals looked after the violators of law against the government.
+
+Sheriff Ninde sent his deputy to do the Sherlock act for him as soon as
+the horses were located. This the deputy had no trouble in doing, as
+this sized bunch of horses could not well be hidden, nor was there any
+desire on the part of Gray to conceal them.
+
+The horses were kept under herd day and night in a near-by pasture.
+Gray usually herded by day, and two young men, one his son, herded by
+night. Things went on this way for a month. In the mean time the deputy
+had reported to the sheriff, who came on to personally supervise the
+undertaking. Gray was on the lookout, and was aware of the deputy’s
+presence. All he could do was to put an extra man on herd at night, arm
+his men well, and await results.
+
+The deputy secretly engaged seven or eight bad men of the long-haired
+variety, such as in the early days usually graced the frontier towns
+with their presence. This brand of human cattle were not the disturbing
+element on the border line of civilization that writers of that period
+depicted, nor the authors of the bloodcurdling drama portrayed. The
+average busy citizen paid little attention to them, considering them
+more ornamental than useful. But this was about the stripe that was
+wanted and could be secured for the work in hand. A good big bluff was
+considered sufficient for the end in view. This crowd was mounted,
+armed to the teeth, and all was ready. Secrecy was enjoined on every
+one. Led by the sheriff and his deputy, they rode out about midnight to
+the pasture and found the herd and herders.
+
+“What do you fellows want here?” demanded young Gray, as Ninde and his
+posse rode up.
+
+“We want these horses,” answered the sheriff.
+
+“On what authority?” demanded Gray.
+
+“This is sufficient authority for you,” said the sheriff, flashing a
+six-shooter in young Gray’s face. All the heelers to the play now
+jumped their horses forward, holding their six-shooters over their
+heads, ratcheting the cylinders of their revolvers by cocking and
+lowering the hammers, as if nothing but a fight would satisfy their
+demand for gore.
+
+“If you want these horses that bad,” said young Gray, “I reckon you can
+get them for the present. But I want to tell you one thing—there are
+sixty head of horses here under herd with ours, outside the ’96’ brand.
+They belong to men in town. If you take them out of this pasture
+to-night, they might consider you a horse-thief and deal with you
+accordingly. You know you are doing this by force of arms. You have no
+more authority here than any other man, except what men and guns give
+you. Good-night, sir, I may see you by daylight.”
+
+Calling off his men, they let little grass grow under their feet as
+they rode to town. The young man roused his father and uncle, who in
+turn went out and asked their friends to come to their assistance.
+Together with the owners of the sixty head, by daybreak they had
+eighteen mounted and armed men.
+
+The sheriff paid no attention to the advice of young Gray, but when day
+broke he saw that he had more horses than he wanted, as there was a
+brand or two there he had no claim on, just or unjust, and they must be
+cut out or trouble would follow. One of the men with Ninde knew of a
+corral where this work could be done, and to this corral, which was at
+least fifteen miles from the town where the rescue party of Gray had
+departed at daybreak, they started. The pursuing posse soon took the
+trail of the horses from where they left the pasture, and as they
+headed back toward Texas, it was feared it might take a long, hard ride
+to overtake them. The gait was now increased to the gallop, not fast,
+probably covering ten miles an hour, which was considered better time
+than the herd could make under any circumstances.
+
+After an hour’s hard riding, it was evident, from the trail left, that
+they were not far ahead. The fact that they were carrying off with them
+horses that were the private property of men in the rescue party did
+not tend to fortify the sheriff in the good opinion of any of the
+rescuers. It was now noticed that the herd had left the trail in the
+direction of a place where there had formerly been a ranch house, the
+corrals of which were in good repair, as they were frequently used for
+branding purposes. On coming in sight of these corrals, Gray’s party
+noticed that some kind of work was being carried on, so they approached
+it cautiously. The word came back that it was the horses.
+
+Gray said to his party, “Keep a short distance behind me. I’ll open the
+ball, if there is any.” To the others of his party, it seemed that the
+supreme moment in the old man’s life had come. Over his determined
+features there spread a smile of the deepest satisfaction, as though
+some great object in life was about to be accomplished. Yet in that
+determined look it was evident that he would rather be shot down like a
+dog than yield to what he felt was tyranny and the denial of his
+rights. When his party came within a quarter of a mile of the corrals,
+it was noticed that Ninde and his deputies ceased their work, mounted
+their horses, and rode out into the open, the sheriff in the lead, and
+halted to await the meeting.
+
+Gray rode up to within a hundred feet of Ninde’s posse, and dismounting
+handed the reins of his bridle to his son. He advanced with a steady,
+even stride, a double-barreled shotgun held as though he expected to
+flush a partridge. At this critical juncture, his party following him
+up, it seemed that reputations as bad men were due to get action, or
+suffer a discount at the hands of heretofore peaceable men. Every man
+in either party had his arms where they would be instantly available
+should the occasion demand it. When Gray came within easy hailing
+distance, his challenge was clear and audible to every one. “What in
+hell are you doing with my horses?”
+
+“I’ve got to have these horses, sir,” answered Ninde.
+
+“Do you realize what it will take to get them?” asked Gray, as he
+brought his gun, both barrels at full cock, to his shoulder. “Bat an
+eye, or crook your little finger if you dare, and I’ll send your soul
+glimmering into eternity, if my own goes to hell for it.” There was
+something in the old man’s voice that conveyed the impression that
+these were not idle words. To heed them was the better way, if human
+life had any value.
+
+“Well, Mr. Gray,” said the sheriff, “put down your gun and take your
+horses. This has been a bad piece of business for us—take your horses
+and go, sir. My bondsmen can pay that judgment, if they have to.”
+
+Gray’s son rode around during the conversation, opened the gate, and
+turned out the horses. One or two men helped him, and the herd was soon
+on its way to the pasture.
+
+As the men of his party turned to follow Gray, who had remounted, he
+presented a pitiful sight. His still determined features, relaxed from
+the high tension to which he had been nerved, were blanched to the
+color of his hair and beard. It was like a drowning man—with the
+strength of two—when rescued and brought safely to land, fainting
+through sheer weakness. A reprieve from death itself or the blood of
+his fellow man upon his hands had been met and passed. It was some
+little time before he spoke, then he said: “I reckon it was best, the
+way things turned out, for I would hate to kill any man, but I would
+gladly die rather than suffer an injustice or quietly submit to what I
+felt was a wrong against me.”
+
+It was some moments before the party became communicative, as they all
+had a respect for the old man’s feelings. Ninde was on the uneasy seat,
+for he would not return to the State, though his posse returned
+somewhat crestfallen. It may be added that the sheriff’s bondsmen, upon
+an examination into the facts in the case, concluded to stand a suit on
+the developments of some facts which their examination had uncovered in
+the original proceedings, and the matter was dropped, rather than fight
+it through in open court.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+THE STORY OF A POKER STEER
+
+
+He was born in a chaparral thicket, south of the Nueces River in Texas.
+It was a warm night in April, with a waning moon hanging like a
+hunter’s horn high overhead, when the subject of this sketch drew his
+first breath. Ushered into a strange world in the fulfillment of
+natural laws, he lay trembling on a bed of young grass, listening to
+the low mooings of his mother as she stood over him in the joy and
+pride of the first born. But other voices of the night reached his
+ears; a whippoorwill and his mate were making much ado over the
+selection of their nesting-place on the border of the thicket. The
+tantalizing cry of a coyote on the nearest hill caused his mother to
+turn from him, lifting her head in alarm, and uneasily scenting the
+night air.
+
+On thus being deserted, and complying with an inborn instinct of fear,
+he made his first attempt to rise and follow, and although unsuccessful
+it caused his mother to return and by her gentle nosings and lickings
+to calm him. Then in an effort to rise he struggled to his knees, only
+to collapse like a limp rag. But after several such attempts he finally
+stood on his feet, unsteady on his legs, and tottering like one
+drunken. Then his mother nursed him, and as the new milk warmed his
+stomach he gained sufficient assurance of his footing to wiggle his
+tail and to butt the feverish caked udder with his velvety muzzle.
+After satisfying his appetite he was loath to lie down and rest, but
+must try his legs in toddling around to investigate this strange world
+into which he had been ushered. He smelled of the rich green leaves of
+the mesquite, which hung in festoons about his birth chamber, and
+trampled underfoot the grass which carpeted the bower.
+
+After several hours’ sleep he was awakened by a strange twittering
+above him. The moon and stars, which were shining so brightly at the
+moment of his birth, had grown pale. His mother was the first to rise,
+but heedless of her entreaties he lay still, bewildered by the
+increasing light. Animals, however, have their own ways of teaching
+their little ones, and on the dam’s first pretense of deserting him he
+found his voice, and uttering a plaintive cry, struggled to his feet,
+which caused his mother to return and comfort him.
+
+Later she enticed him out of the thicket to enjoy his first sun bath.
+The warmth seemed to relieve the stiffness in his joints, and after
+each nursing during the day he attempted several awkward capers in his
+fright at a shadow or the rustle of a leaf. Near the middle of the
+afternoon, his mother being feverish, it was necessary that she should
+go to the river and slake her thirst. So she enticed him to a place
+where the grass in former years had grown rank, and as soon as he lay
+down she cautioned him to be quiet during her enforced absence, and
+though he was a very young calf he remembered and trusted in her. It
+was several miles to the river, and she was gone two whole hours, but
+not once did he disobey. A passing ranchero reined in and rode within
+three feet of him, but he did not open an eye or even twitch an ear to
+scare away a fly.
+
+The horseman halted only long enough to notice the flesh-marks. The
+calf was a dark red except for a white stripe which covered the right
+side of his face, including his ear and lower jaw, and continued in a
+narrow band beginning on his withers and broadening as it extended
+backward until it covered his hips. Aside from his good color the
+ranchman was pleased with his sex, for a steer those days was better
+than gold. So the cowman rode away with a pleased expression on his
+face, but there is a profit and loss account in all things.
+
+When the calf’s mother returned she rewarded her offspring for his
+obedience, and after grazing until dark, she led him into the chaparral
+thicket and lay down for the night. Thus the first day of his life and
+a few succeeding ones passed with unvarying monotony. But when he was
+about a week old his mother allowed him to accompany her to the river,
+where he met other calves and their dams. She was but a three-year-old,
+and he was her first baby; so, as they threaded their way through the
+cattle on the river-bank the little line-back calf was the object of
+much attention. The other cows were jealous of him, but one old
+grandmother came up and smelled of him benignantly, as if to say,
+“Suky, this is a nice baby boy you have here.”
+
+Then the young cow, embarrassed by so much attention, crossed the
+shallow river and went up among some hills where she had once ranged
+and where the vining mesquite grass grew luxuriantly. There they spent
+several months, and the calf grew like a weed, and life was one long
+summer day. He could have lived there always and been content, for he
+had many pleasures. Other cows, also, brought their calves up to the
+same place, and he had numerous playmates in his gambols on the
+hillsides. Among the other calves was a speckled heifer, whose dam was
+a great crony of his own mother. These two cows were almost inseparable
+during the entire summer, and it was as natural as the falling of a
+mesquite bean that he should form a warm attachment for his speckled
+playmate.
+
+But this June-time of his life had an ending when late in the fall a
+number of horsemen scoured the hills and drove all the cattle down to
+the river. It was the first round-up he had ever been in, so he kept
+very close to his mother’s side, and allowed nothing to separate him
+from her. When the outriders had thrown in all the cattle from the
+hills and had drifted all those in the river valley together, they
+moved them back on an open plain and began cutting out. There were many
+men at the work, and after all the cows and calves had been cut into a
+separate herd, the other cattle were turned loose. Then with great
+shoutings the cows were started up the river to a branding-pen several
+miles distant. Never during his life did the line-back calf forget that
+day. There was such a rush and hurrah among these horsemen that long
+before they reached the corrals the line-back’s tongue lolled out, for
+he was now a very fat calf. Only once did he even catch sight of his
+speckled playmate, who was likewise trembling like a fawn.
+
+Inside the corral he rested for a short time in the shade of the
+palisades. His mother, however, scented with alarm a fire which was
+being built in the middle of the branding-pen. Several men, who seemed
+to be the owners, rode through the corralled cows while the cruel irons
+were being heated. Then the man who directed the work ordered into
+their saddles a number of swarthy fellows who spoke Spanish, and the
+work of branding commenced.
+
+The line-back calf kept close to his mother’s side, and as long as
+possible avoided the ropers. But in an unguarded moment the noose of a
+rope encircled one of his hind feet, and he was thrown upon his side,
+and in this position the mounted man dragged him up to the fire. His
+mother followed him closely, but she was afraid of the men, and could
+only stand at a distance and listen to his piteous crying. The roper,
+when asked for the brand, replied, “Bar-circle-bar,” for that was the
+brand his mother bore. A tall quiet man who did the branding called to
+a boy who attended the fire to bring him two irons; with one he stamped
+the circle, and with the other he made a short horizontal bar on either
+side of it. Then he took a bloody knife from between his teeth and cut
+an under-bit from the calf’s right ear, inquiring of the owner as he
+did so, “Do you want this calf left for a bull?”
+
+“No; yearlings will be worth fourteen dollars next spring. He’s a first
+calf—his mother’s only a three-year-old.”
+
+As he was released he edged away from the fire, forlorn looking. His
+mother coaxed him over into a corner of the corral, where he dropped
+exhausted, for with his bleeding ear, his seared side, and a hundred
+shooting pains in his loins, he felt as if he must surely die. His dam,
+however, stood over him until the day’s work was ended, and kept the
+other cows from trampling him. When the gates were thrown open and they
+were given their freedom, he cared nothing for it; he wanted to die. He
+did not attempt to leave the corral until after darkness had settled
+over the scene. Then with much persuasion he arose and limped along
+after his mother. But before he could reach the river, which was at
+least half a mile away, he sank down exhausted. If he could only slake
+his terrible thirst he felt he might possibly survive, for the pain had
+eased somewhat. With every passing breeze of the night he could scent
+the water, and several times in his feverish fancy he imagined he could
+hear it as it gurgled over its pebbly bed.
+
+Just at sunrise, ere the heat of the day fell upon him, he struggled to
+his feet, for he felt it was a matter of life and death with him to
+reach the river. At last he dragged his pain-racked body down to the
+rippling water and lowered his head to drink, but it seemed as if every
+exertion tended to reopen those seared scars, and with the one thing
+before him that he most desired, he moaned in misery. A little farther
+away was a deep pool. This he managed to crawl to, and there he
+remained for a long time, for the water laved his wounds, and he drank
+and drank. The sun now beat down on him fiercely, and he must seek some
+shady place for the day, but he started reluctantly to leave, and when
+he reached the shallows, he turned back to the comfort of the pool and
+drank again.
+
+A thickety motte of chaparral which grew back from the scattering
+timber on the river afforded him the shelter and seclusion he wanted,
+for he dared not trust himself where the grown cattle congregated for
+the day’s siesta. During all his troubles his mother had never forsaken
+him, and frequently offered him the scanty nourishment of her udder,
+but he had no appetite and could scarcely raise his eyes to look at
+her. But time heals all wounds, and within a week he followed his dam
+back into the hills where grew the succulent grama grass which he
+loved. There they remained for more than a month, and he met his
+speckled playmate again.
+
+One day a great flight of birds flew southward, and amidst the cawing
+of crows and the croaking of ravens the cattle which ranged beyond came
+down out of the hills in long columns, heading southward. The line-back
+calf felt a change himself in the pleasant day’s atmosphere. His mother
+and the dam of the speckled calf laid their heads together, and after
+scenting the air for several minutes, they curved their tails—a thing
+he had never seen sedate cows do before—and stampeded off to the south.
+Of course the line-back calf and his playmate went along, outrunning
+their mothers. They traveled far into the night until they reached a
+chaparral thicket, south of the river, much larger than the one in
+which he was born. It was well they sought its shelter, for two hours
+before daybreak a norther swept across the range, which chilled them to
+the bone. When day dawned a mist was falling which incrusted every twig
+and leaf in crystal armor.
+
+There were many such northers during the first winter. The one
+mysterious thing which bothered him was, how it was that his mother
+could always foretell when one was coming. But he was glad she could,
+for she always sought out some cosy place; and now he noticed that his
+coat had thickened until it was as heavy as the fur on a bear, and he
+began to feel a contempt for the cold. But springtime came very early
+in that southern clime, and as he nibbled the first tender blades of
+grass, he felt an itching in his wintry coat and rubbed off great tufts
+of hair against the chaparral bushes. Then one night his mother,
+without a word of farewell, forsook him, and it was several months
+before he saw her again. But he had the speckled heifer yet for a
+companion, when suddenly her dam disappeared in the same inexplicable
+manner as had his own.
+
+He was a yearling now, and with his playmate he ranged up and down the
+valley of the Nueces for miles. But in June came a heavy rain, almost a
+deluge, and nearly all the cattle left the valley for the hills, for
+now there was water everywhere. The two yearlings were the last to go,
+but one morning while feeding the line-back got a ripe grass burr in
+his mouth. Then he took warning, for he despised grass burrs, and that
+evening the two cronies crossed the river and went up into the hills
+where they had ranged as calves the summer before Within a week, at a
+lake which both well remembered, they met their mothers face to face.
+The steer was on the point of upbraiding his maternal relative for
+deserting him, when a cream-colored heifer calf came up and nourished
+itself at the cow’s udder. That was too much for him. He understood now
+why she had left him, and he felt that he was no longer her baby.
+Piqued with mortification he went to a near-by knoll where the ground
+was broken, and with his feet pawed up great clouds of dust which
+settled on his back until the white spot was almost obscured. The next
+morning he and the speckled heifer went up higher into the hills where
+the bigger steer cattle ranged. He had not been there the year before,
+and he had a great curiosity to see what the upper country was like.
+
+In the extreme range of the hills back from the river, the two spent
+the entire summer, or until the first norther drove them down to the
+valley. The second winter was much milder than the first one, snow and
+ice being unknown. So when spring came again they were both very fat,
+and together they planned—as soon as the June rains came—to go on a
+little pasear over north on the Frio River. They had met others of
+their kind from the Frio when out on those hills the summer before, and
+had found them decently behaved cattle.
+
+But though the outing was feasible and well planned, it was not to be.
+For after both had shed their winter coats, the speckled heifer was as
+pretty a two-year-old as ever roamed the Nueces valley or drank out of
+its river, and the line-back steer had many rivals. Almost daily he
+fought other steers of his own age and weight, who were paying
+altogether too marked attention to his crony. Although he never
+outwardly upbraided her for it, her coquetry was a matter of no small
+concern with him. At last one day in April she forced matters to an
+open rupture between them. A dark red, arch-necked, curly-headed animal
+came bellowing defiance across their feeding-grounds. Without a
+moment’s hesitation the line-back had accepted the challenge and had
+locked horns with this Adonis. Though he fought valiantly the battle is
+ever with the strong, and inch by inch he was forced backward. When he
+realized that he must yield, he turned to flee, and his rival with one
+horn caught him behind the fore shoulder, cutting a cruel gash nearly a
+foot in length. Reaching a point of safety he halted, and as he
+witnessed his adversary basking in the coquettish, amorous advances of
+her who had been his constant companion since babyhood, his wrath was
+uncontrollable. Kneeling, he cut the ground with his horns, throwing up
+clouds of dust, and then and there he renounced kith and kin, the
+speckled heifer and the Nueces valley forever. He firmly resolved to
+start at once for the Frio country. He was a proud two-year-old and had
+always held his head high. Could his spirit suffer the humiliation of
+meeting his old companions after such defeat? No! Hurling his bitterest
+curses on the amorous pair, he turned his face to the northward.
+
+On reaching the Nueces, feverish in anger, he drank sparingly, kneeling
+against the soft river’s bank, cutting it with his horns, and matting
+his forehead with red mud. It was a momentous day in his life. He
+distinctly remembered the physical pain he had suffered once in a
+branding-pen, but that was nothing compared to this. Surely his years
+had been few and full of trouble. He hardly knew which way to turn.
+Finally he concluded to lie down on a knoll and rest until nightfall,
+when he would start on his journey to the Frio. Just how he was to
+reach that country troubled him. He was a cautious fellow; he knew he
+must have water on the way, and the rains had not yet fallen.
+
+Near the middle of the afternoon an incident occurred which changed the
+whole course of his after-life. From his position on the knoll he
+witnessed the approach of four horsemen who apparently were bent on
+driving all the cattle in that vicinity out of their way. To get a
+better view he arose, for it was evident they had no intention of
+disturbing him. When they had drifted away all the cattle for a mile on
+both sides of the river, one of the horsemen rode back and signaled to
+some one in the distance. Then the line-back steer saw something new,
+for coming over the brow of the hill was a great column of cattle. He
+had never witnessed such a procession of his kind before. When the
+leaders had reached the river, the rear was just coming over the brow
+of the hill, for the column was fully a mile in length. The line-back
+steer classed them as strangers, probably bound for the Frio, for that
+was the remotest country in his knowledge. As he slowly approached the
+herd, which was then crowding into the river, he noticed that they were
+nearly all two-year-olds like himself. Why not accompany them? His
+resolution to leave the Nueces valley was still uppermost in his mind.
+But when he attempted to join in, a dark-skinned man on a horse chased
+him away, cursing him in Spanish as he ran. Then he thought they must
+be exclusive, and wondered where they came from.
+
+But when the line-back steer once resolved to do anything, the
+determination became a consuming desire. He threw the very intensity of
+his existence into his resolution of the morning. He would leave the
+Nueces valley with those cattle—or alone, it mattered not. So after
+they had watered and grazed out from the river, he followed at a
+respectful distance. Once again he tried to enter the herd, but an
+outrider cut him off. The man was well mounted, and running his horse
+up to him he took up his tail, wrapped the brush around the pommel of
+his saddle, and by a dexterous turn of his horse threw him until he
+spun like a top. The horseman laughed. The ground was sandy, and while
+the throwing frightened him, never for an instant did it shake his
+determination.
+
+So after darkness had fallen and the men had bedded their cattle for
+the night, he slipped through the guard on night-herd and lay down
+among the others. He complimented himself on his craftiness, but never
+dreamed that this was a trail herd, bound for some other country three
+hundred miles beyond his native Texas. The company was congenial; it
+numbered thirty-five hundred two-year-old steers like himself, and
+strangely no one ever noticed him until long after they had crossed the
+Frio. Then a swing man one day called his foreman’s attention to a
+stray, line-backed, bar-circle-bar steer in the herd. The foreman only
+gave him a passing glance, saying, “Let him alone; we may get a jug of
+whiskey for him if some trail cutter don’t claim him before we cross
+Red River.”
+
+Now Red River was the northern boundary of his native State, and though
+he was unconscious of his destination, he was delighted with his new
+life and its constant change of scene. He also rejoiced that every hour
+carried him farther and farther from the Nueces valley, where he had
+suffered so much physical pain and humiliation. So for several months
+he traveled northward with the herd. He swam rivers and grazed in
+contentment across flowery prairies, mesas and broken country. Yet it
+mattered nothing to him where he was going, for his every need was
+satisfied. These men with the herd were friendly to him, for they
+anticipated his wants by choosing the best grazing, so arranging
+matters that he reached water daily, and selecting a dry bed ground for
+him at night. And when strange copper-colored men with feathers in
+their hair rode along beside the herd he felt no fear.
+
+The provincial ideas of his youth underwent a complete change within
+the first month of trail life. When he swam Red River with the leaders
+of the herd, he not only bade farewell to his native soil, but burned
+all bridges behind him. To the line-back steer, existence on the Nueces
+had been very simple. But now his views were broadening. Was not he a
+unit of millions of his kind, all forging forward like brigades of a
+king’s army to possess themselves of some unconquered country? These
+men with whom he was associated were the vikings of the Plain. The Red
+Man was conquered, and, daily, the skulls of the buffalo, his
+predecessors, stared vacantly into his face.
+
+By the middle of summer they reached their destination, for the cattle
+were contracted to a cowman in the Cherokee Strip, Indian Territory.
+The day of delivery had arrived. The herd was driven into a pasture
+where they met another outfit of horsemen similar to their own. The
+cattle were strung out and counted. The men agreed on the numbers. But
+watchful eyes scanned every brand as they passed in review, and the men
+in the receiving outfit called the attention of their employer to the
+fact that there were several strays in the herd not in the road brand.
+One of these strays was a line-back, bar-circle-bar, two-year-old
+steer. There were also others; when fifteen of them had been cut out
+and the buyer asked the trail foreman if he was willing to include them
+in the bill of sale, the latter smilingly replied: “Not on your life,
+Captain. You can’t keep them out of a herd. Down in my country we call
+strays like them _poker steers_.”
+
+And so there were turned loose in the Coldwater Pool, one of the large
+pastures in the Strip, fifteen strays. That night, in a dug-out on that
+range, the home outfit of cowboys played poker until nearly morning.
+There were seven men in the camp entitled to share in this flotsam on
+their range, the extra steer falling to the foreman. Mentally they had
+a list of the brands, and before the game opened the strays were
+divided among the participants. An animal was represented by ten beans.
+At the beginning the boys played cautiously, counting every card at its
+true worth in a hazard of chance. But as the game wore on and the more
+fortunate ones saw their chips increase, the weaker ones were gradually
+forced out. At midnight but five players remained in the game. By three
+in the morning the foreman lost his last bean, and ordered the men into
+their blankets, saying they must be in their saddles by dawn, riding
+the fences, scattering and locating the new cattle. As the men
+yawningly arose to obey, Dick Larkin defiantly said to the winners,
+“I’ve just got ten beans left, and I’ll cut high card with any man to
+see who takes mine or I take one of his poker steers.”
+
+“My father was killed in the battle of the Wilderness,” replied Tex,
+“and I’m as game a breed as you are. I’ll match your beans and pit you
+my bar-circle-bar steer.”
+
+“My sire was born in Ireland and is living yet,” retorted Bold Richard.
+“Cut the cards, young fellow.”
+
+“The proposition is yours—cut first yourself.”
+
+The other players languidly returned to the table. Larkin cut a five
+spot of clubs and was in the act of tearing it in two, when Tex turned
+the tray of spades. Thus, on the turn of a low card, the line-back
+steer passed into the questionable possession of Dick Larkin. The
+Cherokee Strip wrought magic in a Texas steer. One or two winters in
+its rigorous climate transformed the gaunt long-horn into a marketable
+beef. The line-back steer met the rigors of the first winter and by
+June was as glossy as a gentleman’s silk tile. But at that spring
+round-up there was a special inspector from Texas, and no sooner did
+his eye fall upon the bar-circle-bar steer than he opened his book and
+showed the brand and his authority to claim him. When Dick Larkin asked
+to see his credentials, the inspector not only produced them, but gave
+the owner’s name and the county in which the brand was a matter of
+record. There was no going back on that, and the Texas man took the
+line-back steer. But the round-up stayed all night in the Pool pasture,
+and Larkin made it his business to get on second guard in night-herding
+the cut. He had previously assisted in bedding down the cattle for the
+night, and made it a point to see that the poker three-year-old lay
+down on the outer edge of the bed ground. The next morning the
+line-back steer was on his chosen range in the south end of the
+pasture. How he escaped was never known; there are ways and ways in a
+cow country.
+
+At daybreak the round-up moved into the next pasture, the wagons, cut
+and saddle horses following. The special inspector was kept so busy for
+the next week that he never had time to look over the winter drift and
+strays, which now numbered nearly two thousand cattle. When the work
+ended the inspector missed the line-back steer. He said nothing,
+however, but exercised caution enough to take what cattle he had
+gathered up into Kansas for pasturage.
+
+When the men who had gone that year on the round-up on the western
+division returned, there was a man from Reece’s camp in the Strip, east
+on Black Bear, who asked permission to leave about a dozen cattle in
+the Pool. He was alone, and, saying he would bring another man with him
+during the shipping season, he went his way. But when Reece’s men came
+back after their winter drift during the beef-gathering season, Bold
+Richard Larkin bantered the one who had left the cattle for a poker
+game, pitting the line-back three-year-old against a white poker cow
+then in the Pool pasture and belonging to the man from Black Bear. It
+was a short but spirited game. At its end the bar-circle-bar steer went
+home with Reece’s man. There was a protective code of honor among
+rustlers, and Larkin gave the new owner the history of the steer. He
+told him that the brand was of record in McMullen County, Texas, warned
+him of special inspectors, and gave him other necessary information.
+
+The men from the Coldwater Pool, who went on the eastern division of
+the round-up next spring, came back and reported having seen a certain
+line-back poker steer, but the bar-circle-bar had somehow changed,
+until now it was known as the _pilot wheel_. And, so report came back,
+in the three weeks’ work that spring, the line-back pilot-wheel steer
+had changed owners no less than five times. Late that fall word came
+down from Fant’s pasture up west on the Salt Fork to send a man or two
+up there, as Coldwater Pool cattle had been seen on that range. Larkin
+and another lad went up to a beef round-up, and almost the first steer
+Bold Richard laid his eyes on was an under-bit, line-back, once a
+bar-circle-bar but now a pilot-wheel beef. Larkin swore by all the
+saints he would know that steer in Hades. Then Abner Taylor called Bold
+Richard aside and told him that he had won the steer about a week
+before from an Eagle Chief man, who had also won the beef from another
+man east on Black Bear during the spring round-up. The explanation
+satisfied Larkin, who recognized the existing code among rustlers.
+
+The next spring the line-back steer was a five-year-old. Three winters
+in that northern climate had put the finishing touches on him. He was a
+beauty. But Abner Taylor knew he dared not ship him to a market, for
+there he would have to run a regular gauntlet of inspectors. There was
+another chance open, however. Fant, Taylor’s employer, had many Indian
+contracts. One contract in particular required three thousand northern
+wintered cattle for the Fort Peck Indian Reservation in northeast
+Montana. Fant had wintered the cattle with which to fill this contract
+on his Salt Fork range in the Cherokee Strip. When the cowman cast
+about for a foreman on starting the herd for Fort Peck, the fact that
+Abner Taylor was a Texan was sufficient recommendation with Fant. And
+the line-back beef and several other poker steers went along.
+
+The wintered herd of beeves were grazed across to Fort Peck in little
+less than three months. On reaching the agency, the cattle were in fine
+condition and ready to issue to the Indian wards of our Christian
+nation. In the very first allotment from this herd the line-back beef
+was cut off with thirty others. It was fitting that he should die in
+his prime. As the thirty head were let out of the agency corral, a
+great shouting arose among the braves who were to make the kill. A
+murderous fire from a hundred repeaters was poured into the running
+cattle. Several fell to their knees, then rose and struggled on. The
+scene was worthy of savages. As the cattle scattered several Indians
+singled out the line-back poker steer. One specially well-mounted brave
+ran his pony along beside him and pumped the contents of his carbine
+into the beef’s side. With the blood frothing from his nostrils, the
+line-back turned and catching the horse with his horn disemboweled him.
+The Indian had thrown himself on the side of his mount to avoid the
+sudden thrust, and, as the pony fell, he was pinned under him. With
+admirable tenacity of life the pilot-wheel steer staggered back and
+made several efforts to gore the dying horse and helpless rider, but
+with a dozen shots through his vitals, he sank down and expired. A
+destiny, over which he had no seeming control, willed that he should
+yield to the grim reaper nearly three thousand miles from his
+birthplace on the sunny Nueces.
+
+Abner Taylor, witnessing the incident, rode over to a companion and
+inquired: “Did you notice my line-back poker steer play his last trump?
+From the bottom of my heart I wish he had killed the Indian instead of
+the pony.”
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12281 ***