Page 19 of The Outlet


  CHAPTER XVIII. THE LITTLE MISSOURI

  A week later we crossed the Belle Fourche, sometimes called the NorthFork of the Big Cheyenne. Like its twin sister on the south, it wasa mountain river, having numerous affluents putting in from the BlackHills, which it encircled on the north and west. Between these twobranches of the mother stream were numerous tributaries, establishingit as the best watered country encountered in our long overland cruise.Besides the splendid watercourses which marked that section, numerouswagontrails, leading into the hills, were peopled with freighters. Longox trains, moving at a snail's pace, crept over hill and plain, thecommon carrier between the mines and the outside world. The fascinationof the primal land was there; the buttes stood like sentinels, guardinga king's domain, while the palisaded cliffs frowned down, as if erectedby the hand Omnipotent to mark the boundary of nations.

  Our route, after skirting the Black Hills, followed up the Belle Fourchea few days, and early in August we crossed over to the Little MissouriRiver. The divide between the Belle Fourche and the latter stream was anarrow one, requiring little time to graze across it, and interceptingthe Little Missouri somewhere in Montana. The course of that river wasalmost due north, and crossing and recrossing it frequently, we keptconstantly in touch with it on our last northward tack. The river ledthrough sections of country now known as the Bad Lands, but we found anabundance of grass and an easy passage. Sponsilier held the lead all theway down the river, though I did most of the advance scouting, sometimesbeing as much as fifty miles in front of the herds. Near the last of themonth we sighted Sentinel Butte and the smoke of railroad trains, and afew days later all three of us foremen rode into Little Missouri Stationof the Northern Pacific Railway. Our arrival was expected by one manat least; for as we approached the straggling village, our employer wasrecognized at a distance, waving his hat, and a minute later all threeof us were shaking hands with Don Lovell. Mutual inquiries followed, andwhen we reported the cattle fine as silk, having never known a hungry orthirsty hour after leaving the North Platte, the old man brightened andled the way to a well-known saloon.

  "How did I fare at Omaha?" said old man Don, repeating Forrest's query."Well, at first it was a question if I would be hung or shot, but wecame out with colors flying. The United States marshal who attempted totake possession of the cattle on the North Platte went back on thesame train with us. He was feeling sore over his defeat, but Suttoncultivated his acquaintance, and in mollifying that official, showed himhow easily failure could be palmed off as a victory. In fact, I thinkMike overcolored the story at my expense. He and the marshal gave itto the papers, and the next morning it appeared in the form of asensational article. According to the report, a certain popular federalofficer had gone out to Ogalalla to take possession of two herds ofcattle intended for government purposes; he had met with resistance bya lot of Texas roughs, who fatally shot one of his deputies, woundingseveral others, and killing a number of horses during the assault; butthe intrepid officer had added to his laurels by arresting the owner ofthe cattle and leader of the resisting mob, and had brought him backto face the charge of contempt in resisting service. The papers freelypredicted that I would get the maximum fine, and one even went so far asto suggest that imprisonment might teach certain arrogant cattle kingsa salutary lesson. But when the hearing came up, Sutton placed Jim Reedand me in the witness-box, taking the stand later himself, and weshowed that federal court that it had been buncoed out of an order ofinjunctive relief, in favor of the biggest set of ringsters that evermissed stretching hemp. The result was, I walked out of that federalcourt scot free. And Judge Dundy, when he realized the injustice thathe had inflicted, made all three of us take dinner with him, fullyexplaining the pressure which had been brought to bear at the time theorder of relief was issued. Oh, that old judge was all right. I onlyhope we'll have as square a man as Judge Dundy at the final hearing atFort Buford. Do you see that sign over there, where it says Barley Waterand Bad Cigars? Well, put your horses in some corral and meet me there."

  There was a great deal of news to review. Lovell had returned toOgalalla; the body of Tolleston had been recovered and given decentburial; delivery day of the three Indian herds was at hand, bringingthat branch of the season's drive to a close. But the main thing whichabsorbed our employer was the quarantine that the upper Yellowstonecountry proposed enforcing against through Texas cattle. He assuredus that had we gone by way of Wyoming and down the Powder River, thechances were that the local authorities would have placed us underquarantine until after the first frost. He assured us that the yearbefore, Texas fever had played sad havoc among the native and winteredSouthern cattle, and that Miles City and Glendive, live-stock centres onthe Yellowstone, were up in arms in favor of a rigid quarantine againstall through cattle. If this proved true, it was certainly an ill windto drovers on the Powder River route; yet I failed to see where we werebenefited until my employer got down to details.

  "That's so," said he; "I forgot to tell you boys that when Reed and Iwent back to Ogalalla, we found Field, Radcliff & Co. buying beeves.Yes, they had bought a remuda of horses, rigged up two wagons, andhired men to take possession of our 'Open A' and 'Drooping T' herds. Butmeeting with disappointment and having the outfit on their hands, theyconcluded to buy cattle and go ahead and make the delivery at Buford.They simply had to do it or admit that I had called their hands. ButReed and I raised such a howl around that town that we posted every manwith beeves for sale until the buyers had to pony up the cash for everyhoof they bought. We even hunted up young Murnane, the seller of theherd that Jim Reed ran the attachment on; and before old Jim and I gotthrough with him, we had his promise not to move out of Keith Countyuntil the last dollar was in hand. The buyers seemed to command allkinds of money, but where they expect to make anything, even if theydo deliver, beats me, as Reed and I have got a good wad of their money.Since leaving there, I have had word that they settled with Murnane,putting a new outfit with the cattle, and that they have ten thousandbeef steers on the way to Fort Buford this very minute. They are comingthrough on the North Platte and Powder River route, and if quarantinecan be enforced against them until frost falls, it will give us a clearfield at Buford on the day of delivery. Now it stands us in hand to seethat those herds are isolated until after the 15th day of September."

  The atmosphere cleared instantly. I was well aware of the ravages ofsplenic fever; but two decades ago every drover from Texas denied thepossibility of a through animal in perfect health giving a disease towintered Southerners or domestic cattle, also robust and healthy.Time has demonstrated the truth, yet the manner in which the germ istransmitted between healthy animals remains a mystery to this day,although there has been no lack of theories advanced. Even the theoristsdiffered as to the manner of germ transmission, the sporule, tick, andship fever being the leading theories, and each having its advocates.The latter was entitled to some consideration, for if bad usage andthe lack of necessary rest, food, and water will produce fever aboardemigrant steamships, the same privations might do it among animals. Theoverdriving of trail cattle was frequently unavoidable, dry drives andthe lack of grass on arid wastes being of common occurrence. However,the presence of fever among through cattle was never noticeable to thepractical man, and if it existed, it must have been very mild in formcompared to its virulent nature among natives. Time has demonstratedthat it is necessary for the domestic animals to walk over and occupythe same ground to contract the disease, though they may drink from thesame trough or stream of water, or inhale each other's breath in playacross a wire fence, without fear of contagion. A peculiar feature ofTexas fever was that the very cattle which would impart it on theirarrival, after wintering in the North would contract it and die the sameas natives. The isolation of herds on a good range for a period of sixtydays, or the falling of frost, was recognized as the only preventiveagainst transmitting the germ. Government rewards and experiments havenever demonstrated a theory that practical experience does not dispute.

  Th
e only time on this drive that our attention had been called to thefever alarm was on crossing the wagon trail running from Pierre on theMissouri River to the Black Hills. I was in the lead when a large bulltrain was sighted in our front, and shortly afterward the wagon-bossmet me and earnestly begged that I allow his outfit to pass before wecrossed the wagon-road. I knew the usual form of ridicule of a herdforeman, but the boss bull-whacker must have anticipated my reply, forhe informed me that the summer before he had lost ninety head out oftwo hundred yoke of oxen. The wagon-master's appeal was fortified by asincerity which won his request, and I held up my cattle and allowed histrain to pass in advance. Sponsilier's herd was out of sight in my rear,while Forrest was several miles to my left, and slightly behind me. Thewagon-boss rode across and made a similar request of Forrest, but thatworthy refused to recognize the right of way to a bull train at theexpense of a trail herd of government beeves. Ungentlemanly remarks aresaid to have passed between them, when the boss bull-whacker threw downthe gauntlet and galloped back to his train. Forrest pushed on, withample time to have occupied the road in crossing, thus holding up thewagon train. My herd fell to grazing, and Sponsilier rode up to inquirethe cause of my halting. I explained the request of the wagon-master,his loss the year before and present fear of fever, and called attentionto the clash which was imminent between the long freight outfit in ourfront and Forrest's herd to the left, both anxious for the right of way.A number of us rode forward in clear view of the impending meeting. Itwas evident that Forrest would be the first to reach the freight road,and would naturally hold it while his cattle were crossing it. But whenthis also became apparent to the bull train, the lead teams drove out ofthe road and halted, the rear wagons passing on ahead, the two outfitsbeing fully a mile apart. There were about twenty teams of ten yokeeach, and when the first five or six halted, they unearthed old needlerifles and opened fire across Forrest's front. Once the range was found,those long-range buffalo guns threw up the dust in handfuls in the leadof the herd, and Forrest turned his cattle back, while the bull trainheld its way, undisputed. It was immaterial to Forrest who occupied theroad first, and with the jeers of the freighters mingled the laughterof Sponsilier and my outfit, as John Quincy Forrest reluctantly turnedback.

  This incident served as a safety-valve, and whenever Forrest forged tothe lead in coming down the Little Missouri, all that was necessary tocheck him was to inquire casually which held the right of way, a trailherd or a bull train.

  Throughout the North, Texas fever was generally accepted as a fact,and any one who had ever come in contact with it once, dreaded it everafterward. So when the devil was sick the devil a monk would be; andif there was any advantage in taking the contrary view to the oneentertained by all drovers, so long as our herds were free, we were notlike men who could not experience a change of opinion, if in doing sothe wind was tempered to us. Also in this instance we were fighting anavowed enemy, and all is fair in love and war. And amid the fumes of badcigars, Sponsilier drew out the plan of campaign.

  "Now, let's see," said old man Don, "tomorrow will be the 25th day ofAugust. I've got to be at the Crow Agency a few days before the 10thof next month, as you know we have a delivery there on that date. Floodwill have to attend to matters at Rosebud on the 1st, and then hurry onwest and be present at Paul's delivery at Fort Washakie. So you see I'llhave to depend on two of you boys going up to Glendive and Miles andseeing that those cow-towns take the proper view of this quarantinematter. After dinner you'll fall back and bring up your herds, and aftercrossing the railroad here, the outfits will graze over to Buford. We'llleave four of our best saddle horses here in a pasture, so as to beindependent on our return. Since things have changed so, the chances arethat I'll bring Bob Quirk back with me, as I've written Flood to helpThe Rebel sell his remuda and take the outfit and go home. Now you boysdecide among yourselves which two of you will go up the Yellowstone andpromote the enforcement of the quarantine laws. Don't get the impressionthat you can't do this, because an all-round cowman can do anythingwhere his interests are at stake. I'll think the programme out a littlemore clearly by the time you bring up the cattle."

  The herds were not over fifteen miles back up the river when we leftthem in the morning. After honoring the village of Little Missouri withour presence for several hours, we saddled up and started to meet thecattle. There was no doubt in my mind but that Sponsilier would be oneof the two to go on the proposed errand of diplomacy, as his years,experience, and good solid sense entitled him to outrank either Forrestor myself. I knew that Quince would want to go, if for no other reasonthan to get out of working the few days that yet remained of the drive.All three of us talked the matter of quarantine freely as we rode along,yet no one ventured any proposition looking to an agreement as to whoshould go on the diplomatic mission. I was the youngest and naturallytook refuge behind my years, yet perfectly conscious that, in spite ofthe indifferent and nonchalant attitude assumed, all three of us foremenwere equally anxious for the chance. Matters remained undecided; but thenext day at dinner, Lovell having met us before reaching the railroad,the question arose who should go up to Miles City. Dave and Quincewere also eating at my wagon, and when our employer forced an answer,Sponsilier innocently replied that he supposed that we were all willingto leave it to him. Forrest immediately approved of Dave's suggestion.I gave my assent, and old man Don didn't qualify, hedge, or mince hiswords in appointing the committees to represent the firm of Lovell.

  "Jealous of each other, ain't you? Very well; I want these herds grazedacross to Buford at the rate of four miles a day. Nothing but a Mexicanpastor, or a white man as lazy as Quince Forrest can fill the bill.You're listening, are you, Quince? Well, after the sun sets to-night,you're in charge of ten thousand beeves from here to the mouth of theYellowstone. I want to put every ounce possible on those steers for thenext twenty days. We may have to make a comparison of cattle, and if weshould, I want ours to lay over the opposition like a double eagledoes over a lead dime. We may run up against a lot of red tape atFort Buford, but if there is a lick of cow-sense among the governmentrepresentatives, we want our beeves to speak for themselves. Fat animalsdo their own talking. You remember when every one was admiring thefine horse, the blind man said, 'Isn't he fat?' Now, Dave, you andTom appoint your segundos, and we'll all catch the 10:20 train westto-night."

  I dared to risk one eye on Forrest. Inwardly I was chuckling, but Quincewas mincing along with his dinner, showing that languid indifferencewhich is inborn to the Texan. Lovell continued to monopolize theconversation, blowing on the cattle and ribbing up Forrest to see thatthe beeves thenceforth should never know tire, hunger, or thirst. Thecommissaries had run low; Sponsilier's cook had been borrowing beansfrom us for a week past, while Parent point-blank refused to share anymore of our bacon. The latter was recognized as a staple in trail-work,and it mattered not how inviting the beef or venison might be, we alwaysfell back to bacon with avidity. When it came time to move out on theevening lap, Forrest's herd took the lead, the other two falling inbehind, the wagons pulling out for town in advance of everything.Jack Splann had always acted as segundo in my absence, and as he hadoverheard Lovell's orders to Forrest, there was nothing further for meto add, and Splann took charge of my "Open A's."

  When changing mounts at noon, I caught out two of my best saddlers andtied one behind the chuckwagon, to be left with a liveryman in town.Leaving old man Don with the cattle, all three of us foremen went intothe village in order to secure a few staple supplies with which tocomplete the journey.

  It can be taken for granted that Sponsilier and myself were feelingquite gala. The former took occasion, as we rode along, to throw severalbouquets at Forrest over his preferment, when the latter turned on us,saying: "You fellows think you're d--d smart, now, don't you? You'reboth purty good talkers, but neither one of you can show me where therainbow comes in in rotting along with these measly cattle. It's enoughto make a man kick his own dog. But I can see where the old man wasperfectly right in sendi
ng you two up to Miles City. When you fellowswork your rabbit's foot, it will be Katy with those Washington Cityschemers--more than likely they'll not draw cards when they see that youare in the game--When it comes to the real sabe, you fellows shine likea tree full of owls. Honest, it has always been a wonder to me thatGrant didn't send for both of you when he was making up his cabinet."

  The herds crossed the railroad about a mile west of Little MissouriStation. The wagons secured the needed supplies, and pulled out down theriver, leaving Sponsilier and myself foot-loose and free.

  Lovell was riding a livery horse, and as neither of us expected him toreturn until it was too dark to see the cattle, we amused ourselves bylooking over the town. There seemed to be a great deal of freighting tooutlying points, numerous ox and mule trains coming in and also leavingfor their destinations. Our employer came in about dusk, and at oncewent to the depot, as he was expecting a message. One had arrived duringhis absence, and after reading it, he came over to Dave and me, saying:

  "It's from Mike Sutton. I authorized him to secure the services of thebest lawyer in the West, and he has just wired me that he has retainedSenator Aspgrain of Sioux City, Iowa. They will report at Fort Bufordon September the 5th and will take care of any legal complications whichmay arise. I don't know who this senator is, but Mike has orders not tospare any expense as long as we have the other fellow's money to fightwith. Well, if the Iowa lawyers are as good stuff as the Iowa troopswere down in Dixie, that's all I ask. Now, we'll get our suppers andthen sack our saddles--why, sure, you'll need them; every good cowmantakes his saddle wherever he goes, though he may not have clothes enoughwith him to dust a fiddle."