CHAPTER X. The Happy Family Herd Sheep
The boys of the Flying U had many faults in common, aside from certainindividual frailties; one of their chief weaknesses was over-confidencein their own ability to cope with any situation which might arise,unexpectedly or otherwise, and a belief that others felt that sameconfidence in them, and that enemies were wont to sit a long timecounting the cost before venturing to offer too great an affront. Alsothey believed--and made it manifest in their conversation--that theycould even bring the Old Man back to health if they only had him onthe ranch where they could get at him. They maligned the hospitals andChicago doctors most unjustly, and were agreed that all he needed wasto be back on the ranch where somebody could look after him right. Theyasserted that, if they ever got tired of living and wanted to cash inwithout using a gun or anything, they'd go to a hospital and tell thedoctors to turn loose and try to cure them of something.
This by way of illustration; also as an explanation of their sleepingsoundly that night, instead of watching for some hostile demonstrationon the part of the Dot outfit. To a man--one never counted Happy Jack'sprophecies of disaster as being anything more than a personal deformityof thought--they were positive in their belief that the Dot sheepherderswould be very, very careful not to provoke the Happy Family to furthermanifestations of disapproval. They knew what they'd get, if they triedany more funny business, and they'd be mighty careful where they drovetheir sheep after this.
So, with the comfortable glow of victory in their souls, they laidthem down, and, when the animated discussion of that night's adventureflagged, as their tongues grew sleep-clogged and their eyelids drooped,they slept in peace; save when Slim, awakened by the soreness of hisleg, grunted a malediction or two before he began snoring again.
They rose and ate their breakfast in a fair humor with the world. Onegrows accustomed to the thought of sickness, even when it strikes closeto the affections, and, with the resilience of youth and hope, lifeadjusts itself to make room for the specter of fear, so that it doesnot crowd unduly, but stands half-forgotten in the background of one'sthoughts. For that reason they no longer spoke soberly because of theOld Man lying hurt unto death in Chicago. And, when they mentioned theDot sheep and men, they spoke as men speak of the vanquished.
With the taste of hot biscuits and maple syrup still lingeringpleasantly against their palates, they went out and were confronted withsheep, blatting sheep, stinking sheep, devastating sheep, Dot sheep. Onthe south side of the coulee, up on the bluff, grazed the band. They fedupon the brow of the hill opposite the ranch buildings; they squeezedunder the fence and spilled a ragged fringe of running, gray animalsdown the slope. Half a mile away though the nearest of them were, themurmur of them, the smell of them, the whole intolerable presence ofthem, filled the Happy Family with an amazed loathing too deep forwords.
Technically, that high, level stretch of land bounding Flying U couleeon the south was open range. It belonged to the government. The soil wasnot fertile enough even for the most optimistic of "dry land" farmers tolocate upon it; and this was before the dry-land farming craze had sweptthe country, gathering in all public land as claims. J. G. Whitmorehad contented himself with acquiring title to the whole of the FlyingU coulee, secure in his belief that the old order of things would notchange, in his life-time, at least, and that the unwritten law of therange land, which leaves the vicinity of a ranch to the use of the ranchowner, would never be repealed by new customs imposed by a new class ofpeople.
Legally, there was no trespassing of the Dots, beyond the two or threehundred which had made their way through the fence. Morally, however,and by right of custom, their offense would not be much greater if theycame on down the hill and invaded the Old Man's pet meadows, just beyondthe "little pasture."
Ladies may read this story, so I am not going to pretend to repeat thethings they said, once they were released from dumb amazement. I shouldbe compelled to improvise and substitute--which would remove much of theflavor. Let bare facts suffice, at present.
They saddled in haste, and in haste they rode to the scene. This, theywere convinced, was the band herded by the bug-killer and the man fromWyoming; and the nerve of those two almost excited the admiration of theHappy Family. It did not, however, deter them from their purpose.
Weary, to look at him, was no longer in the mood to preach patience anda turning of the other cheek. He also made that change of heart manifestin his speech when Pink, his eyes almost black, rode up close andgritted at him:
"Well, what's the orders now? Want me to go back and get the wirenippers so we can let them poor little sheep down into the meadow? Maybewe better ask the herders down to have some of Patsy's grub, too; Idon't believe they had time to cook much breakfast. And it wouldn't bea bad idea to haze our own stuff clear off the range. I'm afraid Dunk'ssheep are going to fare kinda slim, if we go on letting our cattle eatall the good grass!" Pink did not often indulge in such lengthy sarcasm,especially toward his beloved Weary; but his exasperation toward Weary'smild tactics had been growing apace.
Weary's reply, I fear, will have to be omitted. It was terriblyunrefined.
"I want you boys to spread out, around the whole bunch," was his firstprintable utterance, "and haze these sheep just as far south as theycan get without taking to the river. Don't get all het up chasing 'emyourself--make the men (Weary did not call them men; he called themsomething very naughty) that's paid for it do the driving."
"And, if they don't go," drawled the smooth voice of the Native Son,"what shall we do, amigo? Slap them on the wrist?"
Weary twisted in the saddle and sent him a baleful glance, which was notat all like Weary the sunny-hearted.
"If you can't figure that out for yourself," he snapped, "you had bettergo back and wipe the dishes for Patsy; and, when that's done, you canpull the weeds out of his radishes. Maybe he'll give you a nickel to buycandy with, if you do it good." Before he faced to the front again hisharsh glance swept the faces of his companions.
They were grinning, every man of them, and he knew why. To see him losehis temper was something of an event with the Happy Family, who usedsometimes to fix the date of an incident by saying, "It was right afterthat time Weary got mad, a year ago last fall," or something of thesort. He grinned himself, shamefacedly, and told them that they werea bunch of no-account cusses, anyway, and he'd just about as soon herdsheep himself as to have to run with such an outfit; which swept hisanger from him and left him his usual self, with but the addition of apurpose from which nothing could stay him. He was going to settle thesheep question, and he was going to settle it that day.
Only one injunction did he lay upon the Happy Family. "You fellows don'twant to get excited and go to shooting," he warned, while they werestill out of hearing of the herders. "We don't want Dunk to get anythinglike that on us; savvy?"
They "savvied," and they told him so, each after his own individualmanner.
"I guess we ought to be able to put the run on a couple of sheepherders,without wasting any powder," Pink said loftily, remembering his meetingwith them a few days before.
"One thing sure--we'll make a good job of it this time," promised Irish,and spurred after Weary, who was leading the way around the band.
The herders watched them openly and with the manner of men who areexpecting the worst to happen. Unlike the four whose camp had been laidlow the night before, these two were unarmed, as they had been from thefirst; which, in Weary's opinion, was a bit of guile upon the part ofDunk. If trouble came--trouble which it would take a jury to settle--thefact that the sheepmen were unarmed would tell heavily in their favor;for, while the petty meanness of range-stealing and nagging trespass maybe harder to bear than the flourishing of a gun before one's face, itall sounds harmless enough in the telling.
Weary headed straight for the nearest herder, told him to put his dogsto work rounding up the sheep, which were scattered over an area halfa mile across while they fed, and, when the herder, who was thebug-killer, made
no move to obey, Weary deliberately pulled his gun andpointed at his head.
"You move," he directed with grim intent, "and don't take too much timeabout it, either."
The bug-killer, an unkempt, ungainly figure, standing with his back tothe morning sun, scowled up at Weary stolidly.
"Yuh dassent shoot," he stated sourly, and did not move.
For answer, Weary pulled back the hammer; also he smiled as malignantlyas it was in his nature to do, and hoped in his heart that he lookedsufficiently terrifying to convince the man. So they faced each other ina silent clash of wills.
Big Medicine had not been saying much on the way over, which wasunusual. Now he rode forward until he was abreast of Weary, and hegrinned down at the bug-killer in a way to distract his attention fromthe gun.
"Nobody don't have to shoot, by cripes!" he bawled. "We hain't goin' tokill yuh. We'll make yuh wisht, by cripes, we had, though, b'fore wegit through. Git to work, boys, 'n' gether up some dry grass an' sticks.Over there in them rose-bushes you oughta find enough bresh. We'll givehim a taste uh what we was talkin' about comm' over, by cripes! I guesshe'll be willin' to drive sheep, all right, when we git through withhim. Haw-haw-haw-w-w!" He leaned forward in the saddle and ogled thebug-killer with horrid significance.
"Git busy with that bresh!" he yelled authoritatively, when a glanceshowed him that the Happy Family was hesitating and eyeing himuncertainly. "Git a fire goin' quick's yuh kin--I'll do the rest. Downin Coconino county we used to have a way uh fixin' sheepherders--"
"Aw, gwan! We don't want no torture business!" remonstrated Happy Jackuneasily, edging away.
"Yuh don't, hey?" Big Medicine turned in the saddle wrathfully andglared. When he had succeeded in catching Andy Green's eye he winked,and that young man's face kindled understandingly. "Well, now, youhain't runnin' this here show. Honest to grandma, I've saw the time whena little foot-warmin' done a sheepherder a whole lot uh good; and, itlooks to me, by cripes, as if this here feller needed a dose to gentlehim down. You git the fire started. That's all I want you t' do, Happy.Some uh you boys help me rope him--like him and that other jasper overthere done to Andy. C'mon, Andy--it ain't goin' to take long!"
"You bet your sweet life I'll come on!" exclaimed Andy, dismountingeagerly. "Let me take your rope, Weary. Too bad we haven't got abranding iron--"
"Aw, we don't need no irons." Big Medicine was also on the ground bythen, and untying his rope. "Lemme git his shoes off once, and I'll showyuh."
The bug-killer lifted his stick, snarling like a mongrel dog whena stranger tries to drive it out of the house; hurled the stickhysterically, as Big Medicine, rope in hand, advanced implacably, and,with a squawk of horror, turned suddenly and ran. After him, bellowingterribly, lunged Big Medicine, straight through the band like asnowplow, leaving behind them a wide, open trail.
"Say, we kinda overplayed that bet, by gracious," Andy commented toWeary, while he watched the chase. "That gazabo's scared silly; let'stry the other one. That torture talk works fine."
In his enthusiasm Andy remounted and was about to lead the way tothe other herder when Big Medicine returned puffing, the bug-killersquirming in his grasp. "Tell him what yuh want him to do, Weary," hepanted, with some difficulty holding his limp victim upright by agreasy coat-collar. "And if he don't fall over himself doin' it, why--bycripes--we'll take off his shoes!"
Whereupon the bug-killer gave another howl and professed himself eagerto drive the sheep--well, what he said was that he would drive them tothat place which ladies dislike to hear mentioned, if the Happy Familywanted him to.
"That's all right, then. Start 'em south, and don't quit till somebodytells you to." Weary carefully let down the hammer of his six-shooterand shoved it thankfully into his scabbard.
"Now, you don't want to pile it on quite so thick, next time," Irishadmonished Big Medicine, when they turned away from watching thebug-killer set his dogs to work by gestures and a shouted word or two."You like to have sent this one plumb nutty."
"I betche Bud gets us all pinched for that," grumbled Happy Jack."Torturing folks is purty darned serious business. You might as wellshoot 'em up decent and be done with it."
"Haw-haw-haw-w-w!" Big Medicine ogled the group mirthfully. "Nobodycan't swear I done a thing, or said a thing. All I said definite wasthat I'd take off his shoes. Any jury in the country'd know thatwould be hull lot worse fer us than it would fer him, by cripes.Haw-haw-haw-w-w!"
"Say, that's right; yuh didn't say nothin', ner do nothin'. By golly,that was purty slick work, all right!" Slim forgot his sore leg until heclapped his hand enthusiastically down upon the place as comprehensionof Bud's finesse dawned upon him. He yelped, and the Happy Familylaughed unfeelingly.
"You want to be careful and don't try to see through any jokes, Slim,till that leg uh yours gets well," Irish bantered, and they laughed thelouder.
All this was mere byplay; a momentary swinging of their mood topleasantry, because they were a temperamentally cheerful lot, andlaughter came to them easily, as it always does to youth and perfectmental and physical health. Their brief hilarity over Slim's misfortunedid not swerve them from their purpose, nor soften the mood of themtoward their adversaries. They were unsmiling and unfriendly when theyreached the man from Wyoming; and, if they ever behaved like boys letout of school, they did not show it then.
The Wyoming man was wiser than his fellow. He had been given severalminutes grace in which to meditate upon the unwisdom of defiance; and hehad seen the bug-killer change abruptly from sullenness to terror, andafterward to abject obedience. He did not know what they had said tohim, or what they had done; but he knew the bug-killer was a hard man tostampede. And he was one man, and they were many; also he judged that,being human, and this being the third offense of the Dot sheep under hiscare, it would be extremely unsafe to trust that their indignation wouldvent itself in mere words.
Therefore, when Weary told him to get the stragglers back through thefence and up on the level, he stopped only long enough for a good lookat their faces. After that he called his dogs and crawled through thefence.
It really did not require the entire Family to force those sheep souththat morning. But Weary's jaw was set, as was his heart, upon athorough cleaning of that particular bit of range; and, since he didnot definitely request any man to turn back, and every fellow therewas minded to see the thing to a finish, they straggled out behind thetrailing two thousand--and never had one bunch of sheep so efficient aconvoy.
After the first few miles the way grew rough. Sheep lagged, and theblatting increased to an uproar. Old ewes and yearlings these weremostly, and there were few to suffer more than hunger and thirst,perhaps. So Weary was merciless, and drove them forward without a stopuntil the first jumble of hills and deep-worn gullies held them backfrom easy traveling.
But the Happy Family had not ridden those breaks for cattle, all theseyears, to be hindered by rough going. Weary, when the band stopped andhuddled, blatting incessantly against a sheer wall of sandstone andgravel, got the herders together and told them what he wanted.
"You take 'em down that slope till you come to the second little coulee.Don't go up the first one--that's a blind pocket. In the second coulee,up a mile or so, there's a spring creek. You can hold 'em there on waterfor half an hour. That's more than any of yuh deserve. Haze 'em downthere."
The herders did not know it, but that second coulee was the rude gatewayto an intricate system of high ridges and winding waterways that wouldlater be dry as a bleached bone--the real beginning of the bad landswhich border the Missouri river for long, terrible miles. Down there,it is possible for two men to reach places where they may converse quiteeasily across a chasm, and yet be compelled to ride fifteen or twentymiles, perhaps, in order to shake hands. Yet, even in that scrap-heap ofNature there are ways of passing deep into the heart of the upheaval.
The Happy Family knew those ways as they knew the most complicatedfigures of the quadrilles they danced so lightfootedly with the girls
ofthe Bear Paw country. When they forced the sheep and their herders outof the coulee Weary had indicated he sent Irish and Pink ahead to pointthe way, and he told them to head for the Wash Bowl; which they did withpraiseworthy zeal and scant pity for the sheep.
When at last, after a slow, heartbreaking climb up a long, bare ridge,Pink and Irish paused upon the brow of a slope and let the trail-wearyband spill itself reluctantly down the steep slope beyond, the sun stoodhigh in the blue above them and their stomachs clamored for food; bywhich signs they knew that it must be near noon.
When the last sheep had passed, blatting discordantly, down the bluff,Weary halted the sweating herders for a parting admonition.
"We don't aim to deal you any more misery, for a while, if you staywhere you're at. You're only working for a living, like the rest ofus--but I must say I don't admire your trade none. Anyway, I'll sendsome of your bunch down here with grub and beds. This is good enoughrange for sheep. You keep away from the Flying U and nobody'll botheryou. Over there in them trees," he added, pointing a gloved fingertoward a little grove on the far side of the basin, "you'll find acabin, and water. And, farther down the river there's pretty good grass,in the little bottoms. Now, git."
The herders looked as if they would enjoy murdering them all, but theydid not say a word. With their dogs at heel they scrambled downthe bluff in the wake of their sheep, and the Happy Family, rollingcigarettes while they watched them depart, told one another that thissettled that bunch; they wouldn't bed down in the Flying U door-yardthat night, anyway.