Redskin and Cow-Boy: A Tale of the Western Plains

 

  CHAPTER VIII.

  A RATTLESNAKE DIET.

  Everything was now ready, and one morning four waggons started. The[brand circle triangle] was one of the most northern of the ranches,and the four outfits would therefore travel south, searching the wholewidth of country as they went along. Those from the other rancheswould come up from the south, or in from the east, all moving towardsa general meeting-place. The range of country which served as commonpasturage to some eight or ten ranches was about two hundred milesfrom north to south, and nearly as much from east to west. The easternportion of this great tract consisted of plain, sometimes flat andlevel, but more often undulating. The western portion was broken upinto valleys and gorges by the spurs of the great ranges included underthe name of the Rocky Mountains.

  The cattle of each ranche were as far as possible kept in that portionof the territory nearest their own stations, but during the winterthey scattered to great distances in search of better grazing groundor shelter. In the more northern ranges, when snow-storms with violentwind swept down from the north-west, the cattle would drift beforeit, always keeping their heads from the wind, and feeding as theytravelled. Sometimes great herds would thus travel hundreds of miles,until brought up by some obstacle. At this time such things as fenceswere absolutely unknown on the plains, and when, years after, theycame to a certain extent into use, they were, in the regions exposedto snow-storms, causes of terrible disaster; for when a herd driftingbefore a snow-storm came to one of them, it would be checked, and manythousands of cattle would, when the snow cleared, be found frozen orstarved to death in a mass.

  Two of the outfits of the [brand circle triangle] ranche were toproceed due west, and then to search the ranges among the hills, whilethe other two were to work the plains. Nos. 1 and 2 were chosen forthe former work, and were to keep within twenty or thirty miles of eachother, so as to be able to draw together for support should the Indiansprove troublesome. It was not until the afternoon that the cow-boysmounted, and the men of each outfit, collecting their own horsesinto a bunch, started for the spot where their waggon was to halt forthe night. It had brought up near a stream, and the cook had alreadylighted his fires and put on his cooking pots when they arrived.

  Each outfit consisted of ten cow-boys and a man who acted aswaggon-driver and cook. The duties of the cook of an outfit were byno means a sinecure, as he had to prepare two meals a day, breakfastand supper, at all times, and dinner for the men whose work allowedthem to ride in to it. He had to bake bread, to wash up pots, pans,and dishes, and to cut wood for the fire. In the latter task he wasalways assisted by the first arrivals at the camping place. The breadwas baked in iron pans. The dough was made of flour and water with amixture of saleratus, which took the place of yeast, and caused thedough to rise. The pans were placed in the wood embers, a quantity ofwhich were piled upon the flat iron lid, so that the bread was bakedequally on all sides. Meat was cut into steaks and fried, those of themen who preferred it cutting off chunks of the meat and grilling orroasting them on sticks over the fire.

  Once or twice a week there was duff or plum-pudding. The cook was uplong before daybreak preparing breakfast, and the men started as soonas it was light. Directly the meal was over, plates, pots, and panswere washed and packed in the waggon, the horses or mules harnessed,and he started for the spot named as the evening camping ground, wherehe had his fires lighted and the meal well on its way by the time thecow-boys arrived. A good deal more meat than was required was cooked atbreakfast, and each man before he started on his day's work, cut off achunk of bread and meat for his mid-day meal.

  Hugh had ridden Prince, who had been having a very easy time of itfor the last three weeks. The horse had for the first few days keptsomewhat apart, and had resented any advances on the part of thestrangers. He had now, however, fallen into their ways, and as soon asthe saddle was taken off he, like those ridden by the other cow-boys,went off at a trot to join the bunch of horses a short distance out onthe plain.

  "Well, Hugh, how do you think you shall like cattle work?" one of themen, known as Long Tom, asked him, as they sat round the fire aftersupper was over.

  "So far I like it immensely," Hugh replied; "but, of course, I haveonly seen the smooth side of it. I have not been on night cattle-guardyet."

  "Yes, that is the worse part of the work," the man said, "especiallywhen you are short-handed, for then there is only one relief. Of courseon a fine night, if the cattle are quiet, there is no hardship aboutit; but on a dark night, when you cannot see your horse's ears, and thewind is blowing and the rain coming down, and the cattle are restless,it is no joke. I have been a sailor in my time, and I tell you thatkeeping watch on a wild night at sea isn't a circumstance to it. Youknow that if the cattle break, you have got to ride and head them offsomehow; and I tell you, when you cannot see your horse's ears, and aregoing at a wild gallop, and know that if he puts his foot in a holethere is no saying how far you may be chucked, and you have got theherd thundering along beside you, you begin to feel that a cow-boy'slife is not all meat and molasses. There is one comfort, when you dohave to ride like that, you have no time to funk. Your blood just boilsup with excitement, and the one thing that you think of is to head theherd."

  "Shall we place a horse-guard to-night?"

  "Yes, there is always a horse-guard when we are away from thestation. The horses are more inclined to wander at first than theyare afterwards, and ours are a pretty wild lot at present; but I don'tthink we shall have trouble with them, for we have brought that whitejackass along, and the horses are sure to keep round him. There isnothing like a jack for keeping horses quiet. They seem to know that hehas more sense than they have. As long as he takes things quietly thereis not much fear of their moving."

  "Do you think a donkey has more sense than a horse?" Hugh asked insurprise.

  "Ever so much," the man replied; "and so have mules, haven't they,mates?"

  There was a general chorus of assent. "I had no idea of that," Hughsaid. "I should have thought that horses would look down upon adonkey."

  "That is where you are wrong," a cow-boy called Broncho Harry said."Trust to a jack to find out the best forage and the nearest water. Hewould manage to pick up a living where a horse would starve. He doesn'tget scared and lose his head about nothing as a horse does. If there isa noise, he just cocks one ear forward and makes up his mind what it isabout, and then goes on eating, while a horse fidgets and sweats, andis ready to bolt from his own shadow; besides, the horses know that thejack is their master."

  "Why, you don't mean to say that a donkey can kick harder than a horse?"

  "I don't say he can kick harder, though a mule can, and twice as quick;but a jack does not fight that way, he fights with his teeth. I haveseen several fights between stallions and jacks, and the jack hasalways got the best of it. I remember down at the Red Springs therewas a big black stallion with a bunch of mares came down the valleywhere we camped, and he went at the horses and stampeded them all downthe valley. Well, we had a jack with us; he did not seem to pay muchattention to what was going on until the stallion came rushing at him,thinking no doubt that he was going to knock his brains straight outwith a blow of his fore-foot, but the jack went at him with open mouth,dodged a blow of his hoofs, and made a spring and caught him by theneck. He held on like a bull-dog. The stallion reared and plunged, andlifted the jack off his feet time after time, but each time he camedown with his legs stiff and well apart.

  "The stallion struck at him with his fore-legs, and cut the skin offhis shoulders. Once or twice they fell, but the jack never let go hishold, and he would have killed the stallion, sure, if it had not tornitself away, leaving a big bit of skin and flesh in the jack's mouth.The stallion went up the valley again like a flash, and the jack turnedoff and went on grazing as if nothing had happened. Jacks don't havea chance in towns; but give them a free hand out on the plains, and Itell you they are just choke-full of sense. But it is getting dark, andI am first on guard,
so I must be off."

  The other three men who had been told off for guard had each brought ina horse and fastened the ends of their ropes to picket pins driven intothe ground, so that they could graze a little and yet be near at handwhen the time came to relieve the guard.

  "How do you know when to wake?"

  "It is habit," Broncho Harry said. "One gets to wake up just at theright time, and if you ain't there within a quarter of an hour of thetime you ought to be, you are likely to hear of it. One of the guardswill ride in, and talk pretty straight to you, or like enough he willdrop his rope round your foot or arm, and give you a jerk that willsend you ten yards. When you have been woke up once or twice like that,there ain't much fear of your over-sleeping yourself. Ah! there isblack Sam's accordion."

  Black Sam was the cook, a merry good-tempered negro, and the outfitwhich secured Sam with the waggon considered itself in luck. Cow-boysare very fond of music, and Sam's accordion helped to while away theevening. For the next two hours there was singing and choruses, andthen the men rolled themselves in their blankets with their feet to thefire, and the camp was soon asleep.

  The next morning at daybreak the cow-boys started in pairs; two of themaccompanied the waggon in charge of the spare horses, the rest went invarious directions to hunt up cattle.

  Before nightfall they had collected fifty or sixty cattle, mostly inbunches of threes and fours. At least a third of the number were calvesby their mother's side. Some of them were only captured after a longchase, as they ran with a swiftness far beyond anything of which Hughcould have supposed cattle to be capable.

  The cows and steers were for the most part branded, but a few werefound without marks. These were, Hugh learned, called mavericks. Theywere animals that had escaped search at the previous round-up, and itwas consequently impossible to tell to what herd they belonged. Whenthe day's work was done these were roped, thrown down, and brandedwith the [brand circle triangle], and became the property of the ranchewhose cow-boys discovered them.

  "There is many a man has become rich by branding mavericks," one ofthe cow-boys said. "It was a regular business at one time. Of course noone could tell whose cattle they were, and when a man had put his brandon them he became the owner; but it was carried on so that the rancheowners all came to an agreement, and any man caught branding cattlewith his own brand, except at the regular round-up, got shot. Of coursethe calves belonged to one or other of the ranches round, and as eachranche sends out a number of outfits to the round-up in proportion tothe numbers of its cattle, the present rule is fair enough."

  When night fell the cattle were bunched down by the stream by whichthe party had camped. Six of them were told off on night guard, whilethree others, of whom Hugh was one, were to look after the horses. Hughwas to take the first watch, and as soon as he had eaten his supper hereceived his instructions from John Colley, the overseer of the outfit.

  "You will have little enough to do," he said. "You have merely gotto keep near them, and you needn't even keep on your horse unless youlike. As long as they graze quietly leave them alone. If you see two orthree wandering away from the rest ride quickly and head them in."

  Hugh mounted one of the quietest of his horses and rode out to thebunch a few hundred yards from camp. At his whistle Prince at oncetrotted out from the rest and came up to him and took from his hand thepiece of bread Hugh had put in his pocket for him.

  "Go back to the others, Prince," he said with a wave of his hand; "yourbusiness is to eat at present."

  The horses were all quiet, and Hugh, when darkness had fairly fallen,was struck with the quiet of the plain. Above, the stars shone throughthe clear, dry air. Near him were the dark bunch of horses, and he wassurprised at the loudness of the sound of their cropping the grass,broken only by that of an occasional stamp of a hoof. He could easilyhear the accordion and the singing away back at the camp. When thisceased there came occasionally the crack of a breaking twig as the herdof cattle forced their way through the bushes by the stream on hisleft, and the songs of the cow-boys on watch as they rode in circlesaround them. The time did not seem long, and he was quite surprisedwhen Bill Royce cantered up and told him his watch was over.

  The next day's work was similar to the first, except that, soon afterstarting, on ascending a slope they saw a small herd of deer someeighty yards away. Before Hugh had time to think, Broncho Harry, whowas his companion, had drawn his revolver, and, as the deer boundedoff, fired. One of them leaped high in the air, ran fifty yards, andthen dropped, while the others made off at the top of their speed.

  "That was a good shot," Hugh said. "I should hardly have thought offiring at an object so far distant."

  "Oh, these Colts carry a long way," the cow-boy said carelessly. "Theywill carry four hundred yards, though you can't depend upon theirshooting much over a hundred. I have seen a man killed, though, at overthree hundred; but I look upon that as a chance shot. Up to a hundred aman ain't much of a shot who cannot bring down a deer four times out offive. I don't mean hitting. Of course you ought to hit him every time,but hit him so as to stop him. I don't mean to say as the shot wouldbe sure if you were galloping over rough ground, but in a steady saddleyou ought not to miss."

  On riding up to the deer Broncho Harry dismounted, lifted it on thehorse, and lashed it to the back of the saddle. "I am not particularlypartial to deer-meat," he said, "but it makes a change to beef."

  "I own I prefer beef," Hugh said, "especially after living on venison,as I have been doing, for the last three months."

  "I consider bear-meat to be about as good as anything you get in theseparts," the cow-boy said. "I don't say as it isn't tough, but it hasgot flavour. I don't want to put my teeth into anything better thana good bear ham. If we have any luck we shall get some up among thehills. Most things are eatable. I lived on rattlers once for a month ata time. I tell you a rattler ain't bad eating."

  "Are there many of them out on the plains?"

  "A good many," the cow-boy said; "but you get them most among thefoot-hills. They like to lie on the rocks in the sun, and I have seenthem by dozens on a sunny ledge."

  "Do many people get killed by them?"

  "Bless you, no. The natives are afraid of them, 'cause, you see, theyoften go barefoot; but they cannot bite through our thick boots. Theonly danger is when you lie down, or something of that sort. They arefond of warmth, and if you camp near where they are thick they willcrawl down to the fire, and sometimes get into your blanket."

  "I suppose their bite is fatal if they do bite."

  "Not once in fifty times if you take them right. I have known Mexicanskilled by them, but, then, a Mexican gives himself away directly andmakes no fight for it. Now if we are bitten we just whip out a knifeand cut the part out straight, clap a poultice of fresh dung on it, andtie a string round tight above it. Of course, if you have got spiritshandy, you pour some in directly you cut it out, and drink as much asyou can; but then, you see, we don't often have spirits out here. I wasbit once. There." And he pointed to a scar on his right hand, betweenthe little finger and the wrist. "A rattler bit me just on the fleshypart there. I blew his head off with my revolver, and then whipped outmy knife and cut the bit out. There wasn't any dung handy, and I hadno spirits, so I broke up a revolver cartridge and poured the powderin, and clapped a match to it. It hurt a bit, of course, because itwas bleeding and the powder didn't all flash off at once; but I was allright afterwards. My arm felt numbed for an hour or two, and there wasan end of it. Cattle and horses get bit sometimes on the head when theyare grazing, and it swells up to pretty well twice its proper size,but they generally get over it in a day or two. No, there is no greatdanger about rattlers, but if you are in the neighbourhood where theyare thick it is just as well to look round before you sit down."

  "But how was it you came to live on rattle-snakes for a month?"

  "Well, I was up north a bit. I had been looking after a bunch of cattlethat had gone up a canyon when I saw a party of Indians coming my way.Lucky I
saw them before they saw me, and you guess I was off the horsepretty sharp. I turned his head up the canyon, and sent him gallopingon, and then I sheltered among the rocks. The Indians came up, nodoubt, to look for cattle. I heard them pass by and then come gallopingdown again, and I knew they had happened upon my horse. They huntedabout that place for two days, but the soft rocks had fallen, and theywere piled thick along the foot of the cliffs on both sides, and youmay guess I had worked myself down pretty deep in among them.

  "I was in too much of a hurry to think of the rattlers as I got in,but I had noticed as I went up what a lot of them there were lying onthe rocks, and I thought a good deal about them as I was lying there.Of course I had my knife and pistol with me, but the pistol was nogood, for a shot would have cost me my scalp, sure, and a knife ain'tthe sort of weapon you would choose to use in a tussle with a rattler.When night came I could have shifted, but I guessed I had got as good aplace as another, and I might have put my foot into a nest of rattlersin the dark, so I lay there all night and all next day. I slept abit at night, but all day I kept awake and listened. I could hear theInjuns going about and shoving their lances all about down the holesamong the rocks.

  "Luckily, the place I had got into was just at the foot of the cliffs,and you could not see that there was a hole unless you climbed upthere. Well, when night came again I guessed they would give upsearching, and take to watching. I got out and went a good bit higherup the gorge. I was pretty nigh mad with thirst, and there weren'tno water, as I knew of, within well-nigh a hundred miles. I felt surethe Injuns wouldn't come up the valley again, but would keep watch atthe mouth, for the hills went up both sides and there was no gettingout anywhere 'cept there. Soon as it got light I cut a stoutish stick,tore off a strip of my sash, and tied my bowie to the end. Then I hidup agin there, but so that I could see out a bit. About ten o'clock,as there wur no signs of the Injuns, and the sun wur blazing down fitto frizzle up one's brain, I guessed rattlers would be out. I had gotso bad with thirst by that time that I b'lieve, even if I had seen theInjuns, I should have gone out. I had not long to search. I had notgone five yards when I saw a rattler lying on a rock.

  "There are two sorts of rattlers; there is the plain rattler and therock rattler. The rock ain't so big as the other, but he bites justas bad. He saw me coming, but he did not trouble to move. He justsounded his rattles, and lifted up his head as much as to say youhad best leave me alone. When I got near him he lifted his head a bithigher, and swish went my stick, and his head flew off him. I pickedup the body and went back among the bushes, skinned it, cut it up intochunks, and ate it just as it was. That was the first of them, and Ihad three or four more before the day was over. That night and nextday I remained quiet, except to fill up my larder, and the next nightcrawled down to the mouth of the valley; and just where it narrowed Icould hear Injuns talking. They hadn't lighted a fire; they knew betterthan that. It would have been just throwing away their lives. So backI went again, for I could not tell how many of the skunks were there.I guessed, perhaps, they would come up the valley again the next day,so I hid again in my old place; and it was lucky I did, for in theafternoon I heard their horses' feet and knew there must have been adozen of them.

  "That night I went down again. I could hear no voices, and I crawledout and out until I was well on the plain, but they was gone. That wurjust what I had expected. They had got my water-skin with my horse,and knew well enough that no one could have stood that four days'heat in that valley without dying or going off his head, and as theycould see nothing of me they must have thought that I had got intosome hole and stuck there till I died. Their own water, too, must havebeen running short, and they couldn't stay any longer; so off they hadgone. I wasn't much better off than I was before. They had driven thecattle away, and as to starting to walk a hundred miles without waterthe thing wur not to be thought of. I had found there was juice enoughin the rattlers to do me; besides, there wur plants growing about thatwould help me a bit if I chewed the leaves, so I made up my mind thatthere was nothing else to do but to stop.

  "Some of my mates would be sure to get up a hunt for me when they foundthat I didn't come back. I didn't care so much now that I could lighta fire, for I was getting pretty sick of raw rattler. I lit one nextmorning right up at the head of the valley, choosing a place among therocks where I could pitch a stone over it and hide the ashes if theInjuns should take it into their heads to pay me another visit. Everymorning I cooked enough rattlers for the day, and then took them downand sat among some bushes high up at the mouth of the valley, so thatI could see if anyone was coming two or three miles away, for I hopedthat a deer, or a bear, or perhaps a head or two of cattle might comeup, but nary one did I see, though I stayed there a month.

  "At the end of that time I saw four mounted figures far out on theplain, and pretty soon made out as they was cow-boys. They was ridingtowards the hills, and you bet I tracked out to meet them pretty slick.They was four men of my own outfit. They had halted for three or fourdays after I wur lost, and scoured the plains pretty considerable forme. Then they wur obliged to go with the rest to drive the cattle intothe station, and as soon as they got there they started out again,making up their minds that they wouldn't go back till they foundmy body. They reckoned for sure that I had been scalped, and neverexpected to do more for me than to bury me. They had been four daysriding along at the bottom of the foot-hills searching every valley.They had a spare horse or two with them with water and grub. Yes, thatis how I came to live on rattlers for a month, and though I don't sayanything against them as food, and allow as they make a change to cow'sflesh, I have never been able to touch them since."

  "That was a close shave," Hugh said. "I suppose people do get lost anddie on the plains sometimes."

  "Lots of them; but not old hands, you know. A cow-boy gets to knowwhich way he is going without looking at a mark. At night he hasgot the stars to guide him. But tender-feet often get lost; and whenthey once lose their bearings there ain't much chance for them unlesssomeone happens to come along. They most all go out of their mind thesame day. They run a bit and then drop down, and then run another wayand drop again. I tell you there ain't a more awful sight than a manwho has been lost for a day or two, and you have got to look out sharpif you come upon one of them, for he is as like as not to shoot you,being altogether off his head, and taking you for an enemy.

  "I once came across a chap who was off his head, but who hadn't gotweak. He drew his six-shooter when he saw me. It was a long way froma station, and I had no time to fool about, and I didn't want to getshot. He fired once, and the ball went pretty close, so I knew I mightchuck away my life by going near enough to rope him. So I fetched outmy pistol and took a shot at his ankle, and, of course, down he went.As I expected, he let drop his pistol as he tumbled, and before hecould get it again I had ridden up and roped him. Then, of course, itwur easy enough. I tied him tight first, poured a few drops of waterinto his mouth, fastened him across the horse behind the saddle, androde with him into the camp. He wur laid up for nigh six weeks with hisankle, but it saved his life.

  "Hello!" he broke off, reining back his horse suddenly; "there is agood bunch of cattle right up that dip ahead of us. We are on the wrongside of them now, and if they was to catch sight of us we should have along ride before we came up to them. We must work round and come downon them from the other side and head them this way, then we shall betravelling in the right direction."

  Hugh's eye, less accustomed to search the plains, had not caught thecattle. "How far are they off?" he said.

  "About a mile. You go round to the right and I'll go round to the left.When you get to where you think you are behind them stop until you seeme; or, look here, you are new at this sort of thing, so we may as wellride together until we get to your station, else we might miss eachother and lose a lot of time."

  So saying he rode off at full speed, Hugh, who was on Prince,following him. As they went Hugh congratulated himself that he hadnot started by himself, for rid
ing up and down the undulations, andmaking a half-circle as they were doing, he very soon lost all idea ofdirection. After ten minutes' riding the cow-boy reined in his horse.

  "Now," he said, "they are in the next dip, just about over the lineof that bush. I will go a bit further round and come down on theother side of them. You move on to that bush and wait until you see mecoming, and then ride forward. Keep on their flank. That dip lies justabout in the line of the camp, so keep them going that way."

  Hugh rode until he approached the bush Harry had pointed out, andthen sat quiet until he saw the cow-boy approaching from the oppositedirection. The latter threw up his arm and Hugh moved forward. A fewstrides of the horse took him to the brow, and there, below him, someforty or fifty cattle were grazing. Broncho Harry was already dashingdown the opposite slope. For a moment the cattle stood with heads upand snorts of alarm, and then, as the cow-boy uttered a wild yell,dashed off down the hollow. A little behind them, one on each side,rode the two cow-boys, and for three miles there was no change in theirrelative position. Then the speed of the cattle began to abate, butthey kept on at a run for another two miles, and then settled graduallyinto a walk. An hour later the camp was reached.

  "There is no occasion to watch them," Broncho Harry said as theyarrived within a quarter of a mile of the waggon. "They will go onto the stream and have a drink, and then lie down in the shade of thebushes, or else mix up with the other cattle down somewhere there. Theyhave done enough running for to-day."

  "Back early, Harry?" the cow-boy who had remained behind to look afterthe horses said.

  "Yes, we have been in luck--got a goodish bunch. Hello, Sam!"

  "Hello, Broncho Harry!" the negro replied, putting his head out of thewaggon.

  "Got any hot water, because we want tea?"

  "Not got now, but make him quick. Plenty of fire in the ashes. Notexpect anyone back to dinner, only just twelve o'clock."

  "Well, here we are, Sam, anyhow. Hand me out a frying-pan; a hot dinneris better than a cold lunch any day. I have brought you in a stag,Sam."

  "Dat's good, Broncho, deer's meat better than cow meat."

  "Not a bit of it, Sam. It does for a change; but you cannot go oneating it every day as you can beef, unless you have got to, and thenone can eat anything."

  "Are we going out again after dinner, Harry?" Hugh asked, as theywatched the beef frying over the embers of the great fire.

  "No, sirree, we have done our day's work. We have brought in our bunch,and a good bunch it is. It is just luck that we came on them early,and are back early. If it had been the other way we might not have gotback until after dark; maybe we mightn't have got back until to-morrow.After we have done our meal we will go and see if the cattle havesettled down quiet, and if they have joined the rest. If they have, wewill have a bathe in the stream and then wash our shirts. It will be agood opportunity. One don't get many chances of washing on a round-up."

  The cattle were found to have joined those brought in the day before,and the cow-boys' programme was carried out.

  "You ought to practise with that six-shooter of yours, Hugh; a cow-boyain't thought much of if he can't shoot straight. Look at that tin onthe low bough there. That has been there ever since we were here a yearago. I mind that someone stuck it up for a tender-foot to shoot at;now, you see me knock it off. Jehoshaphat!" he exclaimed, when, as heput his hand on the butt of his pistol, a sharp crack sounded besidehim, and the tin fell to the ground. A laugh from Hugh accompanied theshot.

  "How in thunder did you do that?"

  "The usual way, I suppose," Hugh said. "I drew my pistol, and pulledthe trigger."

  The cow-boy looked him over from head to foot. "I tell you what, Hugh,you are a fraud. You come here as a tender-foot, and you can sit on abucking broncho, you've a good notion of throwing a rope, and you canshoot like lightning. Where did you get it all?"

  "I have simply practised," Hugh said, smiling at the other's gravityof manner. "I made up my mind to take to ranching some months ago, andI practised with the pistol and rope before I started, and, as I toldyou, I have been three months hunting."

  "It don't seem nateral," the cow-boy said doubtfully. "I don't saythe shot was out of the way, for it wur an easy mark enough at twentyyards, but it wur the spryness of the shooting that fetched me."

  "That is what I have been specially practising, Broncho. I was toldthat the great thing was to be able to draw quick."

  "Well, let us see a little more of your shooting." He walked to thetree and picked up the tin. Hugh put in a fresh cartridge in place ofthat he had just fired. "Now I will throw this up, and you fire atit in the air." Bill Royce had told Hugh that this was a favouritemark of the cow-boys, and not having any tins out on the plains hehad thrown up sods or the head of a stag for Hugh to fire at. Harrytook his place about five yards from Hugh. "Now," he said. Hugh waiteduntil the tin reached the highest point and then fired. It flew upwardagain; the other five shots were fired in quick succession, and thenthe tin fell to the ground. It was a feat frequently accomplishedamong the cow-boys, and Broncho Harry was himself perfectly capableof accomplishing it, but he was not the less surprised at seeing itperformed by a new-comer to the plains.

  "Well, you can shoot. Now let us see you draw; your pistol's empty,so there ain't no fear of an accident. Just put it in your belt again.Now stand facing me. We will draw together. Keep your hand down by yourside till I say, now; then draw, cock, and pull your trigger. Stop! Iwill take my cartridges out, there ain't no use in taking risks, and ina hurry my trigger might go off too. Now, I am ready--now!"

  Broncho Harry rather prided himself on the quickness with which hecould draw, but his pistol was not out of his belt when the hammer ofHugh's fell, the lad having fired from his hip.

  "Waal, I swar!" he exclaimed. "Why, how in thunder did you do it? Iwur looking at your hand, and a'most before I saw it move there wasthe thing pinting at me. Why, I am reckoned pretty slick, and I ain't aspot upon you. Do it again, lad." Hugh repeated the action. "Waal, thatbeats me; I can't see how you do it. Your hand goes up to your hip,thar's a twinkle, and thar's the pistol cocked and the hammer fallingat once; it's like conjuring! Just do it slow." Hugh showed that ashis hand fell on the pistol his thumb rested on the hammer and hisforefinger on the trigger, while the others closed on the butt, drewthe pistol from the belt, and threw the barrel forward.

  "It is just practice," he said. "I have been at it for the last sixmonths."

  "Waal, young fellow," Broncho Harry said solemnly, "I have been out onthe plains for ten years, and I have seen pretty considerable shooting,but I never saw anything that was a circumstance to that. You are allright. You can get into a muss with the worst bad man in Texas just assoon as you like, and you have got him, sure. I wouldn't have b'lievedit if I hadn't seen it; it is a kind of lightning trick. It air usefulto be able to back an unbroken broncho, it air useful to throw a ropesartin and sure at full gallop over rough ground, but it air fiftytimes more useful to be able to draw a pistol like a flash as you do.Waal, let us go back to camp. You don't mind my telling the boys. Itwould be hardly fair as any of them should get into a muss with you,thinking as they had got a soft thing; and it will keep you out oftrouble, for you may be sure as no one is like to be getting up a musswith you when they know it would be sartin death."

  "Do as you like, Broncho; but it seems to me that there is no fear ofquarrelling, everyone seems to be wonderfully good-tempered, and not tomind a bit what jokes are played upon him."

  "That is so, Hugh; people are apt to keep their temper when they knowthat if they don't someone gets killed; but it won't be always likethis. You see we have all been going through the winter, and some of ushave been having pretty hard times, and anyhow we are all pleased to beat work again and out on the plains. But you will see that this kind ofthing won't last long. When the work gets heavy and men don't get fourhours a night in their blankets, and the herds take to stampeding, andone thing and another, men's tempers won't be as they is n
ow; some ofthem grow sulky, and won't open their lips all day; and others get thatcrusty that they are ready to jump down the throat of the first manthat speaks to them. Then trouble begins, you bet. Besides, when we getfurther south, we may come upon Mexican villages, and where there isMexicans there is spirits, and where there is spirits there is trouble.I tell you, lad, you don't begin to know about a cow-puncher's lifeyet."

  That evening, after the rest of the outfit had returned and supperwas over, Broncho Harry said, "I have had about the biggest surpriseto-day, boys, that I have ever had. I looked upon Hugh here as atender-foot; a good un, but still new to it, and I found out that whenit comes to a six-shooter, there ain't a man in the camp, nor in theranche, and I doubt whether there is in all Texas, as can shoot as hedoes."

  No one expressed a doubt as to the cow-boy's assertion, for on theplains to doubt a man's word is a grave insult; but there was a murmurof surprise.

  "I don't say as he is the straightest shot," Harry went on; "he is agood shot, although maybe there are plenty who can beat him; but whenit comes to quickness of drawing, I never see a man who was a spot tohim."

  "That's so," Bill Royce put in. "Hugh can shoot straight, wonderfulstraight; but I have seen men shoot better, and he ain't quite sartinin his shooting when he is going at a gallop, although he'll learnthat; but as for quickness--well, I don't know how he does it; hispistol is out before I have time to get a grip of mine."

  "Let us see you, Hugh," two or three of the cow-boys saidsimultaneously.

  "I have no objection," Hugh said, standing up; "what shall I fire at?"

  "Oh, fire at anything. It ain't the aim, it's the quickness Broncho andBill are talking about."

  "Here's a mark I have often seen him fire at when we were out on theplains together." And taking a stick of about the thickness of hiswrist from the fire, Bill Royce walked ten or twelve paces away; thenhe held out the stick, which was blazing at the end.

  All eyes were fixed on Hugh, who drew and fired from his hip, and theburning end of the brand flew in fragments. There was an exclamation ofastonishment from all present.

  "Waal, I never!" Long Tom said. "In course the shot wur nothing fromthe shoulder, but there ain't many as could do it from the hip; butthat ain't so much, it wur the quickness! How on arth did you do it?I had my eyes on your hand, and I don't know how it wur done no morenor a baby. Waal, Hugh, I have never felt like quarrelling with you,and you may take your davie I shall never feel like it now. Waal, I amjiggered!"

  The rest all assented with much variety of strange oaths, and then thecow-boys' favourite topic having been broached, there was a good dealof talk about shooting, and several exhibitions of skill that surprisedHugh. Long Tom picked a tiny gourd, about the diameter of a penny, froma trailing vine common on the plains, and after giving a stir to thefire to make it blaze up, went ten paces away and held it up betweenhis finger and thumb, and Broncho Harry shattered it with a bullet;then Broncho went the same distance out, turned himself sideways, andLong Tom smashed the bowl of his pipe.

  "Would you like to have a try, Hugh?" he asked.

  "No, thank you, Broncho! I daresay I might hit the pipe if it werefixed at that distance, but I would not try when it was within threeinches of your nose for anything."

  "It will come in time, Hugh; it is just nerve; but I wouldn't mindholding it out to you now. I should not be a bit afeard."

  Then they sat down to the fire again, and Hugh heard many anecdotesof marvellous shooting. Hitherto he had borne no nickname, beingthe only one in camp addressed by his simple name; but he found nextmorning that he had been re-christened, and henceforward he was alwaysaddressed as Lightning.