The Ranch on the Beaver
by Andy Adams
The Old Campground
Like brigades of any army moving against some objective point the herds left the quarantine grounds. Dell led the march, which moved at a snail's pace, with Sargent bringing up the rear. The scarcity of water and the necessity of reaching it daily only brought the herds near enough to sight each other, but miles apart at rear or flank. During the morning and evening hours, the dips and swells of the plain cut off or revealed dust-clouds, indicating the location of each herd, while during the middle of the day the mirages, like curtains, hung on every hand, even obscuring the lead cattle from the rear of the marching column.
The herds reached the Arickaree without mishap. In advance of their arrival, Joel took a detail of men from each outfit and rode through to headquarters, to set the ranch in order to receive the new cattle. It was an advantage to the new arrivals, once freed, that they should not be disturbed again, and a round-up was necessary to brand calves and shape up the mixed holdings. An exchange of ranch patriarchs between the Arickaree and the Beaver, an infusion of new blood, was a part of the present programme. Ownership of the company assets, under their contract, had passed into the possession of the brothers, and as intelligent ranchmen the danger of in-and-in breeding suggested an exchange of blood between the ranches.
On arrival of the herds, when approaching the home range, Dell bore off to the east, while the foreman pointed his herd up the valley of the Arickaree. Joel had the home work finished, and without the loss of an hour's time, once the herds were freed, the Beaver outfit received a contingent of ninety bulls and continued on to the lower range. Sargent's outfit took the cows and calves in hand, the latter numbering over six hundred, and promising a full day's work on the morrow. The branding over, nothing remained but the details of fending against the coming winter.
Joel tarried a day on the Arickaree. 'You'll need a car of corn,' said he to the foreman, at parting, 'and keep such help as you want. Get acquainted with these ranches on the South Fork of the Republican. You might cache a few sacks of corn with one of them, in case of winter work. All I can do is to make suggestions; but it's up to you, until further orders, to run this ranch. Hereafter, you're the big auger on the Arickaree.'
A long ride lay before the young cowman. Since taking over the second ranch, in passing back and forth the most direct route between the two ranges had proved to be, with commissary attached, through the sand-hills or former mustang range. Homing like a pigeon and with over a day's start the Beaver outfit held its course, and the task of overtaking it fell to the Spanish horse and his owner.
It was a lonesome ride. Trailing the outfit was too slow, and, taking a general course, the cinnamon struck his traveling gait and before the mirages arose he had lopped off a score of miles. Man and horse threaded the optical snares, the heat-waves rolled up like a burning prairie, but the course never varied. A short rest at noon, a roll, and the route was again taken up with renewed energy.
'Old scout,' said the rider to his horse, 'give me your best judgment this afternoon. Possibly you were born in a sand-dune country. My canteen's half gone, and you must take me to water before night. Remember, now, a fat camp, grass, and water; and try and make it before dark.'
The cinnamon, like a hound on a straight-away scent, held his course. Near the middle of the afternoon the horse sensed something unseen, neighed over the discovery, and instantly the trail of a remuda was picked up, the trace of cattle was noticeable, and a wagon track was found. The sign was an open book to his rider, and the gelding was given a free rein.
'I feel at home already,' said Joel, stroking the horse's neck. 'To-night both of us will fare well. This trail isn't over half a day old. Once the mirages lift, we'll sight the outfit. The boys know where they're going to camp. Rack along, old scout, and let's throw in with this cow outfit to-night.'
Like a bloodhound the horse held the trail of his own kind. The mirages lifted, an hour passed, and the sun sank. The horseman was uneasy when the cinnamon turned on an angle and his rider recognized a familiar country. A smoke arose among the dunes and the camp was soon hailed.
'Here you are,' said the rider, dismounting at the isolation camp of the year before. 'This Spanish horse has been trailing your outfit half the afternoon. I was beginning to doubt my own eyes when the smoke of this camp-fire was sighted. Boys, here's a horse.'
It was a lax camp. With the exception of two horses on picket, every animal, hoof and horn, was freed for the night. The remuda and cattle were in hand at sunrise, and, leaving Dell and half the outfit to follow, Joel and the others rode direct to headquarters on the Beaver.
It had been a busy summer, and the details of fortifying for the coming winter demanded prompt attention. Forage had been provided at the different camps, and corn must be brought in to meet the winter needs.
A single night was spent at headquarters. 'I must run in to the city,' said Joel, 'to close up the summer's business. I'll order the corn, and once Dell comes in, the first work is to brand the calves. No round-ups, understand, but gather the cows quietly. Give these new Tin Cup cattle time to locate before winter strikes. The work of the next month is just the same as it was last fall. No one needs to point it out. You come from ranches, and fortify this one to meet cold weather. In other words, keep busy.'
Young Wells returned within a week. Over five hundred calves had been branded to the Beaver herd, the dug-outs were overhauled, while two four-mule teams were employed in freighting in a car of corn. Indian summer came and went, snow squalls followed, and the boys made ready to take up their winter quarters at the different line-camps.
Two extra men were retained in place of the foreman and Manly. On allotting the outposts, Quinlin contended for Trail Camp, at the lower end of the range, and insisted that Dell become his bunkie for the winter. 'In fair weather,' said he, 'we can drop down to the settlement and have dinner with Bessie Blair. The last time I saw her, she asked me an even thousand questions about you.'
'Bob and I are going to take The Wagon this winter,' instantly announced Dell, giving Quinlin a scathing look. 'What you see in those settlers gets me. And then we must give them our gentle cows.'
'Dale,' said Joel, 'the next time you have occasion to go down to the settlement, take that old bay pony, the one that the boys call "Mossy," as a present to Bessie. 'Just say that the horse is from an admirer of hers, from above on the Beaver. You needn't say who.'
'Come on, Bob,' said the younger boy, addressing Bob Downs, 'let's roll our blankets and move to the upper camp. We'll lash the bedding on a horse and leave for The Wagon right now.'
Another incident, of later effect, was a letter received from Quince Forrest. During the late fall, Don Lovell, in passing from his Northern ranges to his Texas home, had touched at Kansas City, and had made inquiry about the boys who, in days past, had sheltered his men and watered his cattle. Major Hunt was able to answer all inquiries, with the result that, on Mr. Lovell's return home, Forrest wrote his former proteges a letter of greeting. Further, the missive, at the instance of the old drover, urged a visit on the part of the brothers to the Lovell headquarters. 'Paul is at the ranch this winter,' wrote Forrest, 'and joins with me and old man Don in this invitation. The latchstring hangs out to you boys. Say when, and we'll kill a chicken and churn.'
The letter had reached the Beaver with the last load of winter supplies. Dell was still at headquarters and jumped at the invitation. 'We have passes to Kansas City,' said he, 'and possibly Major Hunt can get us others to Texas. Let's ask him.'
'Why not wait a little while?' urged the cautious Joel. 'The invitation will keep, and we may have some winter yet right here at home. I'd like to go, but there's twice as good a reason for staying on the Beaver. We're holding new cattle again this winter, and we can't hold them and visit at the same time. What's most important comes first.'
'It's going to be an open winter,' airily said the younger one, raising an eye to the sun. 'One extreme follows another. Last winter was a terror, and the coming one is almost sure to be dry and clear. After the storms we faced last winter, the weather will never scare me again. The more cattle that leave the home range, the better off you are. We brought every hoof home on the round-up; wintered better adrift than those behind on the Beaver.'
'Quite naturally,' admitted the older boy. 'But that's no reason we'll turn the Beaver holdings loose. Ride your lines and hold the cattle are the orders for this winter.'
'We'll have to go on the round-up in the spring, anyhow. Whether there is a winter drift or not, the round-up will take place. We'll have to send out an outfit, even if we have no cattle adrift.'
'When your cattle are on the home range, you needn't worry about the work of rustlers. It's worth while knowing where they are. We'll ride the lines just the same. I sleep better when our holdings are under my eye.'
Joel's caution carried the hour. There was no question but the experience of the past year, both on the Arickaree and the Beaver, had strengthened the confidence of the brothers. An obstacle overcome imparts courage, and, after waging a good fight and losing cattle the winter before, a repetition carried no dread over similar losses in the future.
As during the previous winter, the weather became a constant topic of interest. The early storms passed with the cordon intact, the holidays approached, the winter proving ideal, not only by the absence of snow, but in its bounty of sunshine. The month of January neared its end, dry, clear weather prevailing, and, with the sun coming nearer and nearer overhead, the terrors of winter lost their dread. The line-riders loafed along the circle, with hardly an incident to break the monotony of the daily task. Sargent, even, dropped down to the Beaver, and the question of the visit to Texas was revived.
'By all means,' said the Arickaree foreman when the invitation of the Lovell ranch was unearthed and re-read. 'What are you laying around here for? The backbone of the winter's broken, and you can take a little swing around the circle before spring work begins. Why, a widow woman could run either of your ranches this winter. Drop down to the Lovell headquarters first, and then come up through the Panhandle to the Stoddard Ranch. There's no question about your welcome.'
'When we parted at Trail City last July,' admitted Joel, 'Uncle Dudley urged me to come down and visit him this winter.'
'What more do you want?' insisted Sargent. 'He may have something in sight for you. There are ranches for sale in Texas. You bought one this summer. I've heard of brands sold in that State that the beeves gathered paid for the entire holdings. Get out of here, rub elbows with real cattle kings, and you'll come home with new ideas. Preen your wings and take a little flyer.'
'Jack,' said the boy, 'in taking over the Arickaree, I never acknowledged my debt to you. You saw a chance in that ranch that was beyond me. Your years and experience are entitled to all the credit. It was your enthusiasm that led me into the deal. Some day I hope to remember you in a better way than with empty words. Right now, I confess my debt.'
'Joel,' said the other, with equal frankness, 'I wish you would get over being kicked uphill. Throw off a little of your caution. You've tasted success, and here you are pottering around like an old squaw, riding lines, when you ought to be scouting the country with a search warrant, looking for another ranch. The Arickaree is on its feet, and here I must pound you on the back to go to Texas. You confess my years over yours, and still you offer excuses to loaf around home. Get out and rub some of the moss off your back. Son, you're just like the little boy who refused to run an errand because he had stubbed his toe -- the summer before.'
The boy admitted Sargent's charges. 'I admit the corn,' said he, 'but there must be a safety valve somewhere in our operations. More men have gone broke in cattle than ever made a success. This trip to Texas is purely a social one. Of course, we'll go. Hamlet, saddle a horse and ride up to The Wagon. Tell Dell we're going to Texas, and have him come down at once.'
Having carried his point, the Arickaree foreman was satisfied. 'It'll be the trip of your life,' said he approvingly. 'You boys will meet and mix with men worth knowing. It's bound to broaden you a few inches. You know only one phase of your occupation, the maturing of beef. When you come home, you'll have an idea of the breeding grounds of Texas. You're in the spelling class yet; after you make this trip you can read a little. Son, it'll take suns and moons and years to make an all-round cowman out of you. The past summer has been a valuable experience, but this visit among old friends will land you a rung or two higher on the ladder.'
Dell reported promptly, his enthusiasm soaring to the clouds. He had planned to return to the Arickaree with Sargent, but the sudden turn in the programme suited him better.
'What will Mr. Quince say when we blow in on him? ' he repeated several times. 'What will he say!'
'A long way from home, that way,' cautioned the guest on the Beaver, 'don't tell your stories too scary. Don't excite the natives.'
The next morning headquarters stood at attention. One of the boys must accompany the brothers to the railroad, and Sargent volunteered to remain on the Beaver until the lad's return.
Verne Downs was detailed to bring back the horses. 'There's a dozen things to caution you about,' said the Arickaree foreman, at starting, 'but the main thing is never to get in a hurry. Take life easy, and don't offend Texas hospitality by thinking of leaving a ranch under a month's stay. Wear your welcome out, and then some. Among cowmen, don't insult any one by taking scrip for your journey. The only way you can repay ranch hospitality is to come again and stay longer. Let me see what else?'
'How about saddles?' inquired Joel.
'Take yours along. You're liable to thrash around a right smart, and you'll need saddles.'
'Anything further?' insisted the older boy.
'Yes. You'll meet women on nearly all the Texas ranches. Treat them with marked courtesy. They'll expect it, from the oldest woman to the youngest girl.'
'Girl!' gasped Dell, withdrawing his toe from the stirrup and turning on Sargent.
'Get on that horse,' said the latter commandingly. 'I've had to browbeat Joel into making this trip, and I don't want any trouble with you. Swing into your saddle, old pard, or you and I will split the blanket, here, right now, instanterl'