The Ranch on the Beaver
by Andy Adams
The Sower
Joel and the Texas foreman left for the city. The latter had started his wagon and horses overland for home, and the only detail remaining was a mutual agreement on the count to the factor in the sale, as the settlement would be made direct to the assignee.
'You agreed on thirty-three hundred and forty head?' repeated Major Hunt, the next morning at his office.
The boy nodded consent. 'That's what four of us made it,' said the trail foreman, confirming the count.
'The cattle came up to expectations?' socially inquired the old factor.
'A nice herd, good cattle,' admitted Joel.
Disappointment showed in Major Hunt's features, and he turned to the Texan.
The latter surveyed the youth with a puzzled look, a glance which was full of meaning, and turned to the old man. 'That herd of mine had no equal at Trail City this summer,' said he, with defensive pride. 'Things have come to a pretty pass when Tin Cup cattle go begging for a buyer.'
'I know the reputation of your ranch,' said the factor, in mollifying tones, to the indignant trail boss. 'Tin Cup beeves have been coming to this market every fall for the past fifteen years. Your cattle have established their reputation on every market. This young man simply don't know your cattle. Joel, you must be mistaken in this man's herd. Why, those Tin Cup twos are better than a government bond.'
The boy held a different view. 'I was born on a farm,' said he, looking from one to the other. 'No farmer ever shouts when sowing. Harvest is the time for rejoicing. Two winters must be met before these young steers are prime beef. Who is going to help me breast the storms and hold them until harvest is ripe?'
'I beg your pardon,' humbly said Major Hunt. 'I would be useless in your field.'
The Texan turned away. 'You couldn't give me, as a gift, one of these Northern ranches.'
'That's where you're wrong,' admonished the old factor. 'This market still gets its beef from Northern ranges.'
Joel's viewpoint was sound. Aside from the rigors of the winter, a drouthy summer on the plains was to be dreaded, when the calf crop failed, when beeves were gaunt as skeletons, and the old and the weak fell to rise no more. In that evil day, fortunate was the cowman who owed no one anything. The boy's dread of debt was not without valid cause.
The trail foreman went his way, and the youth and Major Hunt busied themselves over matters of mutual interest. A shipment of two trains had been made from the Arickaree to Omaha, the sale sheets of which were in hand, while a second consignment was reported to ship that morning from River Bend to Kansas City.
'River Bend?' queried the boy, glancing over the telegram. 'Why do you suppose the boys are going south to ship?'
'Some good reason,' answered the old factor. 'There may be a shortage of cars on the upper road. It may be a matter of water. Your foreman never explains anything.'
'Joe Manly don't excite easily,' said Joel defensively. 'Any time that old boy changes the programme, you and I needn't worry. River Bend is only a few stations above Wild Horse.'
The shipment to Omaha was extremely gratifying. The sale statement reflected the quality of the beef from the Arickaree, and likewise threw a forecast over the shipment to follow.
'Your next work is to restock the upper ranch,' said Major Hunt. 'What are the offerings at Trail City to-day?'
'Some thirty thousand unplaced cattle there yesterday.'
'Start buying at once,' urged the old factor.
'One moment. Major. First, where are we coming out on the Arickaree? I'm still in the woods.'
'Where!' almost shouted Major Hunt. 'You answered that question when you gathered ninety-nine cars of beef cattle astray. One summer's work put the Arickaree Ranch on its feet, and you have fears of the deal paying out! Every sale sheet showing your shipments netting you over forty dollars a head, and yet you hesitate!'
'A cowman can go broke. I've met them, good ones. It's the fear of debt that worries me. The other side of the ledger takes care of itself. How near will our balance come to squaring the Arickaree account?'
'Near enough so that you needn't worry. Your work to-day is to restock the Arickaree range. You admit that you were born on a farm: Solomon said, "He that observeth the wind shall not sow; and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap. In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand." That applies to you. Buying cattle is your work to-day.'
The boy still insisted on his point. The two went over the accounts, beginning with the small balance after buying the necessary saddle horses for the Arickaree Ranch. In comparison with the comfortable margin remaining later, after taking up the Stoddard contract and the purchase of the Tin Cup herd, charged to the Beaver account, down to the known and approximate value of five thousand Arickaree beeves, the liabilities were but a shadow.
'That's better,' admitted Joel; 'that's the way I want it. Our summer expense will be heavy, but we will cover it easily by the strays gathered for others and the excess cattle in the Arickaree holdings.'
'Excess cattle?' inquired Major Hunt, amazed.
'Yes. We gathered over four hundred head more than the company accounts showed adrift. Seems like it was easier to charge them off the books than to send out an outfit and gather them.'
'Well, well,' mused the old factor; 'that's the result of an incompetent management. That's the last chapter in that story. I had an idea that you boys would bring order out of chaos. How did you dispose of the drag-end, the mixed stuff?'
'Sent every hoof home to the Arickaree. They're velvet.'
'Good' Let's see,' continued Major Hunt, consulting a railroad folder. 'Yes, you can get a train for Trail City at noon. Can you start at that hour?'
'I ought to have a letter of credit,' said the boy. 'There ought to be some understanding--'
'Letter of credit!' snapped the old man, interrupting. 'There's no occasion. Hereafter your account with us is an open one. Draw on us to cover your needs. And the only complaint we'll make is, if you refuse to restock your ranches the loss will be mutual, my boy. Will you start at noon?'
'Let me think it out first,' said Joel, meditating. 'I'll need Sargent with me. Give me a telegraph blank,' he added a moment later. 'Here it is. I'll wire Manly to bring his last shipment to Wild Horse, and send Dell to Cheyenne Wells to-morrow. That will relieve the foreman, and Dell can take the Tin Cup herd through to the Beaver. That leaves Sargent free to help me do the buying. Next to Mr. Stoddard, I'd rather have our foreman with me than any one else. Jack's an all-round cowman.'
'Now, you're getting off on the right foot,' said the old factor, pushing a button.
'Get this off as soon as possible,' urged the youth, handing a telegram to the office boy.
'Then you're not going direct to Trail City?' questioned Major Hunt.
'No. Once Sargent is relieved, we can take horses and drop back to the river in a single night. Jack's due to cross the railroad to-morrow and has orders to touch at Cheyenne Wells. I have my saddle with me. It's clear sailing.'
'That's the talk. Restock your ranches is the slogan to-day. And bear in mind that this year ends the trail. So buy plenty, while the buying's easy. Our customers are complaining because their funds are lying idle in our hands. We must work together. Will the Arickaree carry six thousand more?'
'Easily.'
'And the Beaver? '
'Under present plans, it'll go into winter with over nine thousand head. That's about its capacity. There is danger of overstocking a range.'
The day hung heavy on Joel's hands.
'Now, remember the sower,' admonished Major Hunt, at parting. 'If he fears the wind or the cloud, he will not reap, and unless you buy cattle now, you will not have beef to ship two years hence. To harvest wheat, one must sow, and to mature beeves, you must buy young steers. The law is imperative -- you must!'
The next morning, on arriving at Cheyenne Wells, the only person to greet him was his brother Dell. The why and wherefore of the summons was explained in a few words.
'I'm to take the herd through to the Beaver?' repeated Dell.
'Yes, and make a forced drive. Within ten days from crossing this railroad, you're expected to deliver the Tin Cup cattle on the Beaver and return to Trail City. You know the route and the water, and we must wind up our work this month.'
Sargent had not yet appeared at The Wells. A range-man, however, reported having seen a trail herd the evening before, to the south, and near noon the expected foreman rode out of a mirage and cantered up to the station.
'What does this mean?' he inquired, as he dismounted.
'It means that any programme is subject to a change,' answered Joel. 'You and I are going back to Trail City to-night. Dell will take your twos through to the Beaver.'
'Am I spelled down?' inquired Sargent.
'You're promoted,' said the older boy, jerking his thumb toward Dell. 'Salute your successor.'
'I always like to congratulate a young man on his promotion,' remarked the foreman, with due gravity.
'It warms up the cockles of my heart to have an old friend step from a common cowhand to a trail foreman, with a wagon, an outfit, and more cattle than Carter ever owned oats. Had it been any of the other boys except you, Dell, before I'd surrender my herd and mount of horses. I'd fight him at sunrise. But with you, an old pal that way, there's my hand.'
'You two needn't worry about me,' bristled Dell. 'I'll take your twos through to the Beaver. I know every waterhole from here to Hackberry Grove.'
'Talks like a Texan,' nodded Sargent to Joel; 'naturally a trifle boastful about his cattle or his work.'
The herd came up to the railroad and crossed near the bleak station. The new foreman was installed, two horses were reserved, while Sargent paved an easy pathway with his best men for Dell and the safety of the herd.
An easy night's ride and the two horsemen rode into the trail market at sunrise. Both were known as the buyer and foreman of the Tin Cup herd, which had left the quarantine grounds but a few days before, and their object was quickly surmised. They were besought by agents and drovers, but not until the offerings of the trail market had been looked over did they disclose their errand.
'We're on the market for at least one herd of steers,' admitted Joel to a group of sellers. 'Our account is in Kansas City, and any of you are welcome to look up our rating. Local banks here have handled our paper before and our references are open to any one. We're willing to receive cattle here within ten days.'
General conditions favored the buyer. Barely fifty thousand cattle had arrived overland as the season's drive, over half of which, with quarantine lifted and winter approaching, were still unsold. The absence of buyers, a factor in the situation, was easily understood, when for over two decades Texas had poured her surplus cattle, millions in number, into the North and Northwest, and demand had ceased. A frenzied boom in cattle had collapsed, bankruptcy followed, and the days of the trail were numbered. Man and boy were aware that the law of supply and demand was in their favor.
In a single day the two looked over the market offerings. Within a week they accepted and branded three thousand young steers, the sellers gladly holding them until the arrival of the ranch outfits. Manly reported first, arriving at Wild Horse with a double train of beef, and asking for further orders. A second herd of equal numbers was accepted and branded, as no less than a half-dozen contingents formed its make-up, and the original Arickaree brand was run on every purchase.
Even a few more horses were bought. The test of both ranch remudas in the recent trying work had proved, beyond question, the wisdom of mounting men. Twenty-five extra were added and divided between the two ranches.
Manly came through in advance of his outfit. The first herd was bunched, and, on the arrival of the wagon, the cattle were taken in charge by the new owners. Dell and the other outfit reported on time, the second herd was received, both encamping on the ample quarantine grounds. It was the end of the fall work, and, with nothing pressing, a day off was granted.
'What's the chance to get a job with you?' inquired Sargent of Dell the next morning, as half the outfit rode for town. 'I can cook, horse wrangle, point a herd, or sing to the drags.'
'Manly's just pining to go back to Texas,' said the youngster, in confidence. 'Why don't you take his outfit and the lead herd?'
'And let you ride my string of horses? You have your nerve right with you, haven't you? I could never be happy with the lead herd, and you coming on behind, riding my fat horses. Ask me anything but that, Dell. Wear my clothes, complain of my chuck, but never lay covetous eyes on my mount of horses. Observe that line, and you and I may be brother-in-laws yet!'
The herds were camped to the north, and before reaching town the cavalcade was overtaken by Joel and Manly and accompanied by every man not on detail duty.
'Well, if old Joe hasn't on a white shirt and his war-bag tied to his saddle strings!' shouted Sargent. 'Honin' for the Sunny South, I reckon. Dell, there's a vacancy with the lead herd.'
The day was actively spent. Two reliefs left town before noon, and the boys on herd only changed horses, cooks and wranglers joining in the enjoyment of the holiday. An advance in wages had been made, and the men disported themselves like children.
The summer's work was reviewed, the Arickaree, in particular. In the beginning, a venture; in outcome, a veritable lost mine.
'It's time to shout,' said the older boy, who had all accounts in hand, to his foreman. 'Cut loose. Jack; there's no strings on you.'
'Come out here in the street,' ordered Sargent, leading the way, 'and let's dance the bear dance, four-handed. Salute your pardners! Hit the ground! Ichtchiuhuahua!'
The foreman hopped around the others, as an Indian circles the fire, in the green-corn dance, chanting his weird incantations.
'That'll do. Jack,' said Joel. 'Yonder comes the marshal. You and Dell swing onto your horses. I'll see Manly off and overtake you in the morning.'