The Ranch on the Beaver
by Andy Adams
The Mill Runs On
'Off for the Arickaree!' shouted Sargent the next morning, as three horsemen dashed up to and dismounted at headquarters. 'You've all heard of the man who bought a bee course, and the one who traded for a ferry-boat which, four years before, went down the river in a flood. Well, we're no kin to either of those two, but we are entertaining a deal to buy a ranch and ten thousand cattle, one fourth of which are said to be astray. The job calls for cowmen, and the impression seems to have leaked out that this ranch is just about the mustard. Anyhow, we're off to the Arickaree in the morning. When this outfit lays its tape on the assets of the ranch, we'll know if it's a trade.'
The ranch was astir at dawn. Again leaving Quinlin and Verne Downs in charge on the Beaver, five men and thirty horses made up the detail to go to the Arickaree. As a forced ride was in order, neither blanket nor pack-horse was taken along.
'We'll travel as light as jack-rabbits,' said the foreman at starting. 'We might take a cold biscuit apiece in our saddle pockets, for dinner to-day, and before night we'll strike ranches on the Republican. We'll forage off the country, and a night or two without sleep is nothing. The orders call for a forced march.'
The trip was a gala outing. On reaching the Republican, directions were secured, the ride timed so as to reach ranches at night, and on the evening of the third day, the cavalcade rode into the headquarters of the cattle company. Advice of their coming had reached the ranch the day before, and an ex-foreman, McWilliams by name, was found in charge, and he extended every courtesy.
'On their return from the round-up,' said the latter, 'most of our men were hit with a time check and your unexpected visit finds us short-handed. However, I've asked our neighbors to lend a hand and we'll show you the cattle. I've been crippled two years now and never ride beyond the home range any more.'
The retired foreman proved to be a Texan, mild in voice, and in no time he and Sargent were as thick as old cronies. The ranch books were produced, and, after checking shipments against original stock, increase, young steers purchased, making due allowance for winter-kill, there was every reason to believe that the ranch should count out more cattle than represented.
'How do you account for this big shortage?' inquired the Beaver foreman of the man on the Arickaree.
'I'm not answering many questions,' replied the latter with a shrug, but smiling. 'I've been with the company since it was organized, ten years ago. We started in a small way and done well up to the boom of ten years ago. Since then, we have had a great deal of red tape to contend with. Too many big augers at company headquarters, and too many worthless gimlets on the ranch. I was relieved some two years ago, by an accident, of the active management. Since then the superintendent, from the main office, has directed the company affairs.'
The simple facts of the failure had been indirectly told. The calling was an old one, its maxims simple, yet from the dawn of Time some scored success where others failed. Even for the earth to yield its bounty, the farmer must either hold the plough or drive, and the same holds true in pastoral pursuits. 'My old hat,' said a cowman to his boys, 'is worth more to this ranch than half a dozen hirelings. My presence makes fat cattle, and one eye is enough to keep my saddle stock fit for work.'
A day's delay occurred in securing help. The time was fully employed in looking over the range and ranch equipment. The Arickaree carried a larger volume of water than the Beaver, the grasses were similar, while the improvements were vastly superior to the dug-outs and sod stabling of Wells Brothers. The boys and their foreman took in every detail, and closed the day's inspection by asking to have the remuda corralled. It tallied out in numbers, but not enough horses for the cattle represented.
'I've been pleading for more horses,' said McWilliams, in apology, 'but never could convince the big augers. Take a city man and he can't grasp the fact that eight or ten grass horses are necessary to mount a man. At least, I failed to convince mine. We managed to get along, in a way, but' --' A shrug ended the sentence.
Meanwhile outriders had circled the range during the afternoon, shaping up the cattle for the morrow. The water controlled about twenty miles of the Arickaree Valley, the best lands of which had been taken up and were an asset of the company. The back range, while important, was not considered, as it was waterless, depending on the North Fork to supply the cattle. In many ways the range was a duplicate of the one on the Beaver, with about the same carrying capacity for live stock. It was an advantage to show the cattle in small round-ups, and four were deemed sufficient. That the ranch had been recently worked by the general round-up was an advantage, as it left the home cattle almost clean of strays. The coming day's work would be a classifying, a stock-taking, an inventory, as a merchant might his wares.
The next morning found an outfit of fifteen men available. The retired foreman, his horse in a walk, directed the work with an ease and deftness which proved him no 'prentice. Patiently he awaited the sun on the cattle, and the day was well advanced when the first round-up had quieted down to admit of the work beginning.
The home men cut out all strays and sent them adrift, down to the clean ranch brand. One or more counts would be necessary, and on the main one, Sargent called Hamlet to his assistance. The cattle were slowly lined through between them, and held for a second count and classification. On the next one, every man from the Beaver was assigned a task, running from beeves to toddling calves, the extremes being covered respectively by the foreman and Dell Wells. On the intermediate grades Hamlet counted all steers, twos and threes. Downs the mixed yearlings, while Joel was assigned the cows and heifers. Counting the calves was a side issue for their own information, as a calf, while following its mother, was never counted in range dealing.
The first gathering of the day totaled a few over seventeen hundred head. Under a classification, the two counts differed less than forty in numbers.
'That's near enough,' said Sargent. 'That's right in line with the books. The brand will run about ten per cent she stuff.'
'And with this advantage,' added the ex-foreman: 'these cows are native to the Arickaree. All our original stock has passed away. Very few of our cows are adrift. You'll find them nearly all here on the home range.'
The second circle was finished before noon. Its numbers ran in excess of the first. As in the previous one, the beeves were missing.
'The books show three thousand double-wintered beeves,' observed Sargent, consulting a memorandum. 'Where are they?'
McWilliams smiled and turned in his saddle. 'You may have noticed that cattle drifted last winter,' said he, with a sweep of his hand to the south. 'Some of these company beeves were caught out on the divide during the first storm, and they haven't come back. With nothing to check them, my guess would be that some of them are as far south as the Arkansaw River. But, of course, that's pure guesswork. If I had a new spine and outfitted right, it wouldn't worry me to go and get them. They're somewhere.' His hand again swept the south.
'We met a good many rustlers this spring,' commented the Beaver foreman. 'Last winter's drift encouraged every one and his cousin to get busy. I'd hate to leave beeves adrift by the year.'
'Rustlers know where to rustle,' replied Mac. 'The way cattle men are organized now, getting away with cattle is no easy matter. And heavy beeves, ready for market, are nearly safe. Every association has its inspectors on the markets. This company's failure is not due to rustlers looting it.'
The last two round-ups of the day finished, a summary of the home cattle was possible. Over six hundred calves had run the gauntlet, the mixed yearlings falling short of that number, both representing ranch breeding.
The cows on the Arickaree were a decided improvement on the ones on the Beaver. They were all native to the valley, possessing the homing instinct, while their offspring reflected care in their breeding. The total of the day's work, taken unexpectedly, confirmed the report furnished the commission firm, and only a few weeks afterward. The numbers had even overrun those reported to Major Hunt, and an intelligent line on the holdings to the company was available.
Joel and his foreman dropped to the rear of the returning cavalcade. 'As straws tell which way the wind blows,' remarked Sargent, 'this day's work gives us a clear line on these company cattle. In the first place, you can rely on it that the cattle were here, or those loans would never have been advanced. The money was furnished to buy young steers, just as you bought them to stock your ranch. It all came about by too much red tape and not enough cow-sense. Again, these ranch books were kept by some one who knows how to keep cattle accounts: the steers were carried forward yearly until they entered the beef class; the heifers were advanced until they classified as cows. The books haven't been tampered with. No one foresaw this assignment. As a third and last proof, to-day's work has overrun in every class where we had a right to expect them on the home range. The cows are here and the yearlings are here.'
Joel was aware that his years, in barter and trade, were unequal to coping with men. 'Sound McWilliams,' he urged. 'He's deep water. He knows more than he lets on he does.'
'Better keep him on the ranch,' suggested the foreman. 'If he never saddles another horse, he's worth two men. And in time he'll thaw out nicely.'
'By all means. Let him sit at the head of the table and give him a warm place by the fire.'
On nearing the ranch, the two overtook the others. Supper over, the volunteer help went their ways and the men relaxed. Sargent and the boys drew their chairs around McWilliams.
'I'm at liberty to tell you,' said the foreman, acting as spokesman, 'that this ranch has new owners. We have checked our figures over, and under the conditions on which we tallied out your holdings, possession will date from the first of this month. Things will run along the same, and, as you have been with the company since it began, you'll be a valuable man to the new owners. At least you must not think of quitting us, not until we get a firm grip on the reins. And not then, as long as you care to call this ranch your home. These other boys will come in handy, and a change of owners will affect no one on the ranch. The mill runs on, the miller only changes.'
A sigh escaped the old foreman, and there was something pathetic in his words. 'I've seen this coming for some time, and wondered if I would go down in the shipwreck. I'm of little use any more, but the new owners have my best wishes for success. I may be able to lend a hand, in the way of counsel or suggestion, which would take a stranger time to acquire. A crust and a corner is all I'll need.'
'You can Injun around camp,' said Sargent, lifting the conversation to a lighter vein. 'Watch for the signal fires and keep an eye over the pony herd.'
'That's about my caliber,' smilingly said McWilliams. 'A ranch clerk -- keep the accounts possibly.'
'Who kept these ranch books?' inquired Sargent.
'That was part of my work. 'Kept them largely for my own information. I couldn't tell head from tail about the office books, so I kept my own, good old Texas methods. Running through my accounts, things come to memory which I had forgotten years ago. A foreman ought to know to a hoof how many beeves the ranch will ship next fall. I could tell from my books and knew just where to lay my hands on the cattle. I can show a shipment in the fall of '83 that netted us seventy dollars a head. Oh, this was a ranch -- once!'
The old foreman brought forward his accounts. He and the trio pored over them. The company had begun operations with a paid-up capital of fifty thousand dollars. Its first stock of cattle, numbering thirty-two hundred, was bought in Ogalalla. They were two-year-old steers, with a sprinkle of cows, trail cattle, and as McWilliams went into the steady growth of the ranch, amid the reminiscence of better days, his infirmities were forgotten.
'The Arickaree was a primal valley then,' said he; 'an old winter range of the buffalo. Our cattle grew like summer weeds, and our double-wintered beeves waddled like ducks. We caught the big boom in cattle, with our sails winged out, and the future looked rosy. Then came the collapse of the boom, and our fall was as rapid as our rise. The final touches, leading up to to-day, are personal, and I don't care to mention them. I hope the new owners will turn the tide.'
'That's the job we've tackled,' laughed Sargent. 'One more question about these books of yours, Mac: your accounts show more cattle than the office books.'
The old foreman smiled. 'I never charge animals off the books, unless they die or are shipped. It's an easy way to charge them out of existence, but it proves nothing. You'll gather more cattle than the office books showed the company owned; you may gather nearly as many as my accounts call for.'
The difference in the accounts amounted to nearly nine hundred cattle, covering a period of ten years. The one had charged off a percentage for winter-kill, wolves, theft, death from natural causes, while the other made no such allowance.
'Let's take a little prowl around the ranch,' said Joel, rising, 'before it gets dark.'
Dell and the foreman joined him. 'You keep chickens here,' said the younger boy to McWilliams, at starting.
'That's my doing,' replied the old foreman. 'It helps out the table when we have company. It makes things seem homelike to see a hen mother her chicks.'
The three strolled down to the Arickaree, and stretched themselves on the sod. 'Better leave me here,' suggested Sargent to the brothers. 'Left alone with McWilliams, I'll get the last detail out of him. He's still water, and to get close to one of these old-timers, you have to camp with him. Get him away from home, by a little camp-fire some night, that's when these quiet boys unfold and reveal their lives. Never ask one of them a direct question. Trust the facts to leak out.'
'Strange he never mentions how he was crippled,' pondered Dell. 'He admits it, and there it ends.'
'That's just like them,' commented the foreman. 'He's a solitary steer; runs by himself, like a muley cow. It's best not to ask how he was hurt. I'll sound the other boys.'
'The weak point in this ranch,' remarked the older boy, returning to the house, 'is the saddle stock. The remuda needs fortifying.'
'It needs thirty or forty more horses,' agreed Sargent.
'We can't spare them from the Beaver,' continued Joel. 'If we knew where to buy them? Our account with the commission firm is still in black ink.'
'Don't waste any time, then, in changing your account into red ink and more horses,' urged the foreman. 'To gather the cattle adrift. I'll need a hundred horses, enough to mount fifteen men. I don't want to go short-handed, and there are a dozen of these ranch horses that have seen their best days. Good enough to dub around home on, but unfit for three months' work.'
'We get our supplies to the north, on the Platte,' explained McWilliams. 'In shipping cattle, we have the choice of two roads. The one to the north has the best water for grazing beeves to the railroad, shipping to Omaha. The other one, to the south, is just as near, in case you want to ship to Kansas City. Gives you the choice of two markets.'
'Can you leave me on the railroad to-morrow?' inquired Joel, indicating to the south.
'Easily. Only sixty-five miles. Wild Horse is our down-country station.'
'I'll have to go in anyhow,' continued the boy to his foreman, 'and I might hear of some saddle horses for sale.'
'That's a meaty idea,' said the latter, with finality. 'Kill two birds with one stone.'
'We're going to leave Jack with you,' announced Joel to the ex-foreman. 'It will take some time to get the run of the ranch, but he can always advise with you. The rest of the boys will leave for home in the morning. You know the men of the country and can lend a hand in getting up a good beef-shipping outfit. That's our next work, and we'll begin it soon.'
'Mac will be foreman here,' said Sargent, 'and I'll be the straw boss. I'll take out the wagon and do the coarse handwriting.'
An early start was agreed upon. One of the regular men would take Joel to Wild Horse, and at starting, the party held together for some distance. On halting a moment, at the parting of the ways, Dell inquired of their foreman if he had found out how McWilliams became crippled.
'No,' said Sargent, turning in his saddle to Joel's guide, 'do you know?'
'Yes,' admitted the latter, lowering his voice. 'Twenty-one years ago last fall he was making a hand with a beef herd, bound for Fort Sumner, New Mexico, when the Comanches attacked them. The outfit routed the Indians, but an arrow-head lodged in Mac's spine. The surgeons at Fort Sumner were afraid to remove it, and it's there yet. About two years ago it resulted in a stroke of paralysis.'
'The old boy's entitled to a warm corner,' thoughtfully remarked the foreman.
'See that he gets it,' urged Joel. 'I want him to have as much as any of the rest of us. And if he never turns another cow, let him want for nothing the ranch affords.'
'It strikes me as a good omen,' said Sargent, still meditating. 'Your ranch on the Beaver began as a hospital, and by keeping charity green in our hearts, it will never lose us anything.'