The Ranch on the Beaver
by Andy Adams
The Hundredth Sheep
On the homeward trip the outfits held together only for a day. All were in high spirits, perfectly relaxed, and at every pool in the river groups disported themselves by swimming.
'You are not going home with us?' questioned Sargent, of Joel, at the parting of the ways.
'Not to-day. This Beaver outfit is liable to quit the reservation, without notice, and I'd better nurse them in home.'
During the first week in August, Joel returned to the Arickaree, to find the foreman in waiting. News had come up from the Arkansas Valley that shipping would begin by the middle of the current month, and the outfit expected to take the field ten days in advance of the work beginning. McWilliams and a boy were left at headquarters on the Arickaree.
'We'll drop down to the Arkansaw as straight as a crow flies,' announced Sargent, on Joel's arrival. 'I want to skirmish along the Big Sandy as we go. Mac thinks we might catch a right smart drift down it and around its mouth. He has given me an outline where to look and the limits of any possible drift.'
'Our neighbors on the Smoky River will bring home everything on all outside round-ups,' said the boy. 'I saw quite a lot of them at Culbertson, and when we work that range, we'll catch the bulk of any cattle on its headwaters. From all reports, we ought to pick up a good shipment along the Smoky.'
The Arickaree outfit left within a week. One man was detailed to assist the horse wrangler, another acted as wagon boss to the cook, leaving eleven men to scout the country outbound. The commissary was stocked for a month. Rolls of blankets and personal effects filled every niche of the wagon, the motive power of which was furnished by four mules.
'Well,' said the acting foreman to the ex-foreman, at parting, 'our work will be governed largely by your many suggestions. We'll look into all those pockets, those creek and river bends, that have caught your winter drift in other years. If they're not there, we'll throw the drag-net a little wider. And when this outfit comes home, if we haven't gathered your strays, why, fire us all. In the meantime, move your chair with the shade of the house and entertain any company that comes along.'
The outbound trip was of little interest. The outfit touched at Wild Horse on the railroad, crossed the Big Sandy, holding a true course to the Arkansas Valley. Big Sandy is a tributary to the Arkansas River, and by inquiry and scouting the missing cattle were met on the former, but not in numbers.
'It's all right,' said Sargent. 'Mac didn't expect us to see or hear of a hoof as far west as Wild Horse on the Big Sandy. The drift went southeast from the Arickaree; we're traveling due south. We're safely outside the cattle astray.'
The outfit reached the Arkansas River on schedule time. A camp was made, between ranches, which were visited, with general inquiry for the brands in quest. Any disappointment was of a gratifying nature; no sign of the cattle was accepted as good news -- that they were still outside the limits of the drift. An animal astray, in the summer, would attract more attention, arouse more inquiry among range-riders, than the ninety-and-nine that grazed on the home range. It was the stray that excited curiosity, and hence was sure to be noted.
The first round-up attended was fruitless. 'Move camp,' was the order of the foreman. 'We're fifty miles too high up the river. We'll make a day's move and scout the country as we go. We can check our inquiry by riding through the cattle. Any hoof adrift, this far from home, is a heavy beef. Hereafter, every one rides alone.'
Camp was moved. Every man on scout brought in the news of having sighted the missing cattle, and all ranches adjacent were visited. Reports were confirmed, and with pastoral hospitality a willing hand was extended. In the valley, the first shipments of beef were pending, and, tendering the services of his outfit, Sargent awaited the opening of the range harvest.
There was little delay. Round-ups began thick and fast. The outfit was frequently divided, on one occasion into three divisions, the wagon moving down the river and grazing under herd all cattle gathered. Ranches only carrying she stock tendered round-ups to the visitors, and the steady march, with increasing numbers, followed the river. At the end of a week, enough strays had been gathered to suggest a shipment.
'There's no hurry,' said the foreman to Joel. 'These strays under herd are faring like fatted calves, and from what I can hear in advance, we're due to make a haul around the mouth of the Big Sandy. And the old quarantine lines above Trail City are again reported in force, and we can't cross it with our drag cattle. We'll work on down to the quarantine grounds in Colorado, and then turn back up the Big Sandy. We'll take no chances on Texas fever.'
Sargent's suggestion was adopted. Above and below the junction of the Big Sandy with the Arkansas River, the drag-net caught over three hundred of the missing cattle. Another day's work and the isolated line would be reached.
'Order your cars,' said the foreman. 'Allowing for to-morrow's work, you'll have a full train. It may run twenty-five cars. So far, two thirds of the cattle gathered are fit for market. Old Mac surely has cow-sense; puts his finger on the cattle adrift every time.'
The train was ordered safely in advance. The last day's work cleared the Arkansas Valley above the quarantine grounds, yielding its quota of strays, which were brought up to the wagon, preparatory to shipping out. The work had covered ten days; nearly seven hundred cattle had been gathered, a large majority of which would ship out as marketable beeves.
'There,' said Sargent to the boy, as the first train of beef left for market, 'there goes your first shipment of Arickaree cattle, twenty-two cars of twenty-two head each, and over two hundred of a drag-end left. And not over one fourth of the possible range covered where any drift might be expected. Are we going to gather the missing cattle? Check!'
'At the end of the beef season,' said Joel, 'I'll check with you. I'm feeling a trifle better already, and if we gather the cattle. I'll hit the ground with my hat and shout with you.'
The outfit turned up the river, carrying the drag-end of the mixed cattle, expecting next to work the Big Sandy. The summer had been favorable, water was plentiful, even filling the lakes and lagoons. The time passed rapidly, and near the end of the second week the outfit found itself encamped opposite Kit Carson on the railroad. A permanent camp was established on the Big Sandy, and, after covering the round-ups above, a second shipment became necessary. In beeves, its numbers fell short of the previous one, but with a remnant that was gratifying.
Some disposition must be made of the latter, now numbering over four hundred head. Sargent drew a map on the sand. 'Here we are,' said he, 'shipping to-morrow from Kit Carson. The Big Sandy and the Arkansaw Valley are burnt bridges. Here's the home ranch on the Arickaree, and this is our chance to send home this mixed stuff. From here, we'll cross into Kansas, and the detail that takes home the drag-end can rejoin us on the headwaters of the Smoky. Round up the cattle and we'll start the remnant for home after dinner.'
The foreman was a worker. The numbers in his outfit admitted of a detail for any purpose, and, selecting four men, they started northward with all cattle unfit for market. Under a forced march, they would be out only two nights, and, taking a pack-horse, the mixed stuff left for the Arickaree, leaving a shipment of twenty cars for the next day.
As before, the commission firm was advised by wire of the pending shipment. Market conditions might delay it, but with consent for immediate shipment came the summons for Joel to accompany it.
'That's all right,' said Sargent. 'Something's turned up. Major Hunt's awake, has his ear to the ground. You can rest easy he isn't calling you in without a purpose. Take your saddle along and come back to Grinnell, and you'll find me on the headwaters of the Smoky.'
'How easy!' replied the boy. 'If I don't find you in the corral, you're sure to be in the stable. You speak of the headwaters of the Smoky as if it were some man's milk pen.'
'Strike the Smoky and come up the river,' explained the foreman. 'We expect to let the folks on that stream know what we come for, and wherever you hear of work going on, you'll find our wagon camped. We'll burn a lantern on the end of the wagon-tongue, and night or day, you can find us.'
An incident occurred in penning the beeves which brought to the fore Sargent's deep insight into cattle. A number of cows adrift had been gathered, and, having sent them home the day before, he noticed the heavy beeves were nervous, lowing without occasion, which was easily explained by the absence of all cows. He cautioned the outfit to observe extra quietness, and, as the beeves were entering the wings of the shipping pens, the exhaust of an engine, half a mile distant, fell upon the ears of over four hundred head. Acting under the herd instinct, every beef turned in his tracks, excited and impatient to break for safety. But the cordon of horsemen held them, the herd songs arose, the men relaxed and the heavy beeves were allowed to graze away as if their attempted stampede was unnoticed.
'Let the herd drop back a mile,' ordered the foreman, 'and then turn them for the chute again. Some one ask the station agent to move that engine out of hearing, and I'll skirmish around and see if I can borrow a cow.'
A number of the latter were on picket, the family cows of some villager, and the loan of one was easily obtained. Sargent led her out, met the beeves returning, allowed the cow to graze forward in the lead, her presence, in the action of the cattle, being noticeable at once. No magic was employed, but confidence in an old cow, led by a horseman at the end of a picket rope, lured a train of beeves through the wings, past the portals, until the gates closed at their rear.
'Wouldn't that knock you off the Christmas tree!' said one of the outfit to his chum. 'Those fool steers must believe in a cow.'
'It didn't worry our foreman much,' came the reply. 'We didn't lose over an hour on account of that little bobble.'
Sargent rode out of the corrals, talking to the cow. 'Come on, little girl,' said he cooingly. 'I wish I had a sweet apple for you. Any time you and I can flim-flam a bunch of beeves, I'll eat my hat. One of you boys take old Spot around to that tent, behind the section house, and give this dollar to the little woman who loaned us her cow. She'll show you where to picket her again, bless her little fat heart!'