Page 5 of The Flying U Ranch


  CHAPTER V. Sheep

  Slim rising first from dinner on the next day but one opened the doorof the mess-house, and stood there idly picking his teeth before he wentabout his work. After a minute of listening to the boys "joshing" oldPatsy about some gooseberry pies he had baked without sugar, he turnedhis face outward, threw up his head like a startled bull, and began tosniff.

  "Say, I smell sheep, by golly!" he announced in the bellowing tone whichwas his conversational voice, and sniffed again.

  "Oh, that's just a left-over in your system from the dose yuh got intown Sunday," Weary explained soothingly. "I've smelled sheep, andtasted sheep, and dreamed sheep, ever since."

  "No, by golly, it's sheep! It ain't no memory. I--I b'hieve I hear'em, too, by golly." Slim stepped out away from the building and facedsuspiciously down the coulee.

  "Slim, I never suspected you of imagination before," the Native Sondrawled, and loitered out to where Slim stood still sniffing. "I wonderif you're catching it from Andy and me. Don't you think you ought to bevaccinated?"

  "That ain't imagination," Pink called out from within. "When anybodyclaims there's sheep in Flying U coulee, that's straight loco."

  "Come on out here and smell 'em yourself, then!" Slim bawledindignantly. "I never seen such an outfit as this is gittin' to be; youfellers don't believe nobody, no more. We ain't all Andy Greens."

  Upon hearing this Andy pushed back his chair and strolled outside. Heclapped his hand down upon Slim's fat-cushioned shoulder and swayed himgently. "Never mind, Slim; you can't all be famous," he comforted. "Someday, maybe, I'll teach yuh the fine art of lying more convincingly thanthe ordinary man can tell the truth. It is a fine art; it takes a geniusto put it across. Now, the only time anybody doubts my word is when I'msticking to the truth hike a sand burr to a dog's tail."

  From away to the west, borne on the wind which swept steadily down thecoulee, came that faint, humming sing-song, which can be made only by aherd of a thousand or more sheep, all blatting in different keys--orby a distant band playing monotonously upon the middle octave of theirvaried instruments.

  "Slim's right, by gracious! It's sheep, sure as yuh live." Andy did notwait for more, but started at a fast walk for the stable and his horse.After him went the Native Son, who had not been with the Flying U longenough to sense the magnitude of the affront, and Slim, who knew to anicety just what "cowmen" considered the unpardonable sin, and the restof the Happy Family, who were rather incredulous still.

  "Must be some fool herder just crossing the coulee, on the movesomewhere," Weary gave as a solution. "Half of 'em don't know a fencewhen they see it."

  As they galloped toward the sound and the smell, they expressed freelytheir opinion of sheep, the men who owned them, and the lunatics whowatched over the blatting things. They were cattlemen to the marrowin their bones, and they gloried in their prejudice against the woollydespoilers of the range.

  All these years had the Flying U been immune from the nuisance, save foran occasional trespasser, who was quickly sent about his business. TheFlying U range had been kept in the main inviolate from the little, grayvandals, which ate the grass clean to the sod, and trampled with theirsharp-pointed hoofs the very roots into lifelessness; which polluted thewater-holes and creeks until cattle and horses went thirsty rather thandrink; which, in that land of scant rainfall, devastated the rangewhere they fed so that a long-established prairie-dog town was not morebarren. What wonder if the men who owned cattle, and those who tendedthem, hated sheep? So does the farmer dread an invasion of grasshoppers.

  A mile down the coulee they came upon the band with two herders and fourdogs keeping watch. Across the coulee and up the hillsides they spreadlike a noisome gray blanket. "Maa-aa, maa-aa, maa-aa," two thousandstrong they blatted a strident medley while they hurried here and thereafter sweeter bunches of grass, very much like a disturbed ant-hill.

  The herders loitered upon either slope, their dogs lying close besidethem. There was good grass in that part of the coulee; the Flying Uhad saved it for the saddle horses that were to be gathered and heldtemporarily at the ranch; for it would save herding, and a week in thatpasture would put a keen edge on their spirits for the hard work of thecalf roundup. A dozen or two that ranged close had already been driveninto the field and were feeding disdainfully in a corner as far awayfrom the sheep as the fence would permit.

  The Happy Family, riding close-grouped, stiffened in their saddles andstared amazed at the outrage.

  "Sheepherders never did have any nerve," Irish observed after a minute."They keep their places fine! They'll drive their sheep right into yourdooryard and tell 'en to help themselves to anything that happens tolook good to them. Oh, they're sure modest and retiring!"

  Weary, who had charge of the outfit during Chip's absence, was makingstraight for the nearest herder. Pink and Andy went with him, as amatter of course.

  "You fellows ride up around that side, and put the run on them sheep,"Weary shouted back to the others. "We'll start the other side moving.Make 'em travel--back where they came from." He jerked his head towardthe north. He knew, just as they all knew, that there had been no sheepto the south, unless one counted those that ranged across the Missouririver.

  As the three forced their horses up the steep slope, the herder, sittingslouched upon a rock, glanced up at them dully. He had a long stick,with which he was apathetically turning over the smaller stones withinhis reach, and as apathetically killing the black bugs that scuttled outfrom the moist earth beneath. He desisted from this unexciting pastimeas they drew near, and eyed them with the sullenness that comes oflong isolation when the person's nature forbids that other extreme ofbabbling garrulity, for no man can live long months alone and remainperfectly normal. Nature, that stern mistress, always exacts a penaltyfrom us foolish mortals who would ignore the instincts she has wiselyimplanted within us for our good.

  "Maybe," Weary began mildly and without preface, "you don't know this isprivate property. Get busy with your dogs, and haze these sheep back onthe bench." He waved his hand to the north. "And, when you get a goodstart in that direction," he added, "yuh better keep right on going."

  The herder surveyed him morosely, but he said nothing; neither did herise from the rock to obey the command. The dogs sat upon their haunchesand perked their ears inquiringly, as if they understood better than didtheir master that these men were not to be quite overlooked.

  "I meant to-day," Weary hinted, with the manner of one who deliberatelyholds his voice quiet.

  "I never asked yuh what yuh meant," the herder mumbled, scowling. "Wegot to keep 'em on water another hour, yet." He went back to turningover the small rocks and to pursuing with his stick the bugs, as if thewhole subject were squeezed dry of interest.

  For a minute Weary stared unwinkingly down at him, uncertain whether toresent this as pure insolence, or to condone it as imbecility. "Mamma!"he breathed eloquently, and grinned at Andy and Pink. "This is a realtalkative cuss, and obliging, too. Come on, boys; he's too busy tobother with a little thing like sheep."

  He led the way around to the far side of the band, the nearest sheepscuttling away from then as they passed. "I don't suppose we could workthe combination on those dogs--what?" he considered aloud, glancing backat them where they still sat upon their haunches and watched the strangeriders. "Say, Cadwalloper, you took a few lessons in sheepherding, acouple of years ago, when you was stuck on that girl--remember? Whistle'em up here and set 'en to work."

  "You go to the devil," Pink's curved hips replied amiably to his boss."I've got loss-uh-memory on the sheep business."

  Whereat Weary grinned and said no more about it.

  On the opposite side of the coulee, the boys seemed to be laboringquite as fruitlessly with the other herder. They heard Big Medicine'struculent bellow, as he leaned from the saddle and waved a fist close tothe face of the herder, but, though they rode with their eyes fixed uponthe group, they failed to see any resultant movement of dogs, sheep orman.


  There is, at times, a certain safety in being the hopeless minority.Though seven indignant cowpunchers surrounded him, that herder wassecure from any personal molestation--and he knew it. They were sevenagainst one; therefore, after making some caustic remarks, whichproduced as little effect as had Weary's command upon the first man, theseven were constrained to ride here and there along the wavering, grayline, and, with shouts and swinging ropes, themselves drive the sheepfrom the coulee.

  There was much clamor and dust and riding to and fro. There was languagewhich would have made the mothers of then weep, and there were facesgrown crimson from wrath. Eventually, however, the Happy Family facedthe north fence of the Flying U boundary, and saw the last woolly backscrape under the lower wire, leaving a toll of greasy wool hanging fromthe barbs.

  The herders had drawn together, and were looking on from a distance, andthe four dogs were yelping uneasily over their enforced inaction. TheHappy Family went back and rounded up the herders, and by sheer weightof numbers forced them to the fence without laying so much as a fingerupon then. The one who had been killing black bugs gave then an uglylook as he crawled through, but even he did not say anything.

  "Snap them wires down where they belong," Weary commanded tersely.

  The man hesitated a minute, then sullenly unhooked the barbs of the twolower strands, so that the wires, which had thus been lifted to permitthe passing of the sheep, twanged apart and once more stretched straightfrom post to post.

  "Now, just keep in mind the fact that fences are built for use. This isa private ranch, and sheep are just about as welcome as smallpox. Hazethem stinking things as far north as they'll travel before dark, and atdaylight start 'em going again. Where's your camp, anyhow?"

  "None of your business," mumbled the bugkiller sourly.

  Weary scanned the undulating slope beyond the fence, saw no sign of acamp, and glanced uncertainly at his fellows. "Well, it don't mattermuch where it is; you see to it you don't sleep within five miles ofhere, or you're liable to have bad dreams. Hit the trail, now!"

  They waited inside the fence until the retreating sheep lost theirindividuality as blatting animals, ambling erratically here and there,while they moved toward the brow of the hill, and merged into a great,gray blotch against the faint green of the new grass--a blotch fromwhich rose again that vibrant, sing-song humming of many voices mingled.Then they rode back down the coulee to their own work, taking itfor granted that the trespassing was an incident which would not berepeated--by those particular sheep, at any rate.

  It was, therefore, with something of a shock that the Happy Familyawoke the next morning to hear Pink's melodious treble shouting in thebunk-house at sunrise next morning:

  "'G'wa-a-y round' 'em, Shep! Seven black ones in the coulee!" Men whoknow well the West are familiar with that facetious call.

  "Ah, what's the matter with yuh?" Irish raised a rumpled, brown headfrom his pillow, and blinked sleepily at him. "I've been dreaming I wasa sheepherder, all night."

  "Well, you've got the swellest chance in the world to 'make every dreamcone true, dearie,'" Pink retorted. "The whole blamed coulee's full uhsheep. I woke up a while ago and thought I just imagined I heard 'enagain; so I went out to take a look--or a smell, it was--and they'resure enough there!"

  Weary swung one long leg out from under his blankets and reached for hisclothes. He did not say anything, but his face portended trouble for theinvaders.

  "Say!" cried Big Medicine, coming out of his bunk as if it were afire,"I tell yuh right now then blattin' human apes wouldn't git gay aroundhere if I was runnin' this outfit. The way I'd have of puttin' themsheep on the run wouldn't be slow, by cripes! I'll guarantee--"

  By then the bunk-house was buzzing with voices, and there was none togive heed to Big Medicine s blatant boasting. Others there were whoseemed rather inclined to give Weary good advice while they pulledon their boots and sought for their gloves and rolled early-morningcigarettes, and otherwise prepared themselves for what Fate might havewaiting for then outside the door.

  "Are you sure they're in the coulee, Cadwalloper?" Weary asked, during abrief lull. "They could be up on the hill--"

  "Hell, yes!" was Pink's forceful answer. "They could be on the hill, butthey ain't. Why, darn it, they're straggling into the little pasture! Icould see 'em from the stable. They--"

  "Come and eat your breakfast first, boys, anyway." Weary had his handupon the door-knob. "A few minutes more won't make any difference, oneway or the other." He went out and over to the mess-house to see ifPatsy had the coffee ready; for this was a good three-quarters of anhour earlier than the Flying U outfit usually bestirred themselves onthese days of preparation for roundup and waiting for good grass.

  "I'll be darned if I'd be as calm as he is," Cal Emmett muttered whilethe door was being closed. "Good thing the Old Man ain't here, now. He'dgo straight up in the air. He wouldn't wait for no breakfast."

  "I betche there'll be a killin' yet, before we're through with themsheep," gloomed Happy Jack. "When sheepherders starts in once to beornery, there ain't no way uh stoppin' 'em except by killin' 'em off.And that'll mean the pen for a lot of us fellers--"

  "Well, by golly, it won't be me," Slim declared loudly. "Yuh wouldn'tketch me goin' t' jail for no doggone sheepherder. They oughta be abounty on 'en by rights."

  "Seems queer they'd be right back here this morning, after being hazedout yesterday afternoon," said Andy Green thoughtfully. "Looks likethey're plumb anxious to build a lot of trouble for themselves."

  Patsy, thumping energetically the bottom of a tin pan, sent themtrooping to the mess-house. There it was evident that the breakfast hadbeen unduly hurried; there were no biscuits in sight, for one thing,though Patsy was lumbering about the stove frying hot-cakes. They werein too great a hurry to wait for them, however. They swallowed theircoffee hurriedly, bolted a few mouthfuls of meat and fried eggs, and letit go at that.

  Weary looked at then with a faint smile. "I'm going to give a few of youfellows a chance to herd sheep to-day," he announced, cooling his coffeeso that it would not actually scald his palate. "That's why I wantedyou to get some grub into you. Some of you fellows will have to take thetrail up on the hill, and meet us outside the fence, so when we chase'em through you can make a good job of it this time. I wonder--"

  "You don't need to call out the troops for that job; one man isenough to put the fear uh the Lord into then herders," Andy remarkedslightingly. "Once they're on the move--"

  "All right, my boy; we'll let you be the man," Weary told him promptly."I was going to have a bunch of you take a packadero outfit down towardBoiler Bottom and comb the breaks along there for horses--and I suredo hate to spend the whole day chasing sheepherders around over thecountry. So we'll haze 'em through the fence again, and, seeing you feelthat way about it, I'll let you go around and keep 'em going. And, ifyou locate their camp, kinda impress it on the tender, if you can roundhim up, that the Flying U ain't pasturing sheep this spring. No matterwhat kinda talk he puts up, you put the run on 'em till you see 'emacross One-Man coulee. Better have Patsy put you up a lunch--unlessyou're fond of mutton."

  Andy twisted his mouth disgustedly. "Say, I'm going to quit handing outany valuable advice to you, Weary," he expostulated.

  "Haw-haw-haw-w-w!" laughed Big Medicine, and slapped Andy on theshoulder so that his face almost came in contact with his plate."Yuh will try to work some innercent man into sheepherdin', will yuh?Haw-haw-haw-w! You'll come in tonight blattin'--if yuh don't stay outon the range tryin' t' eat grass, by cripes! Andy had a little lamb thatfollered him around--"

  "Better let Bud take that herdin' job, Weary," Andy suggested. "It won'thurt him--he's blattin' already."

  "If you think you're liable to need somebody along," Weary began,soft-heartedly relenting, "why, I guess--"

  "If I can't handle two crazy sheepherders without any help, by gracious,I'll get me a job holdin' yarn in an old ladies' hone," Andy cut inhastily, and got up from the table. "Being a tru
thful man, I can't sayI'm stuck on the job; but I'm game for it. And I'll promise you therewon't be no more sheep of that brand lickin' our doorsteps. What darnedoutfit is it, anyway? I never bumped into any Dot sheep before, to myknowledge."

  "It's a new one on me," Weary testified, heading the procession downto the stable. "If they belonged anywhere in this part of the country,though, they wouldn't be acting the way they are. They'd be wise to thefact that it ain't healthy."

  Even while he spoke his eyes were fixed with cold intensity upon afringe of gray across the coulee below the little pasture. To thenostrils of the outraged Happy Family was borne that indescribable aromawhich betrays the presence of sheep; that aroma which sheepmen love andwhich cattlemen hate, and which a favorable wind will carry a long way.

  They slapped saddles on their horses in record time that morning, andraced down the coulee ironically shouting commiserating sentences tothe unfortunate Andy, who rode slowly up to the mess-house for the lunchwhich Patsy had waiting for him in a flour sack, and afterward climbedthe grade and loped along outside the line fence to a point oppositethe sheep and the shouting horsemen, who forced them back by weight ofnumbers.

  This morning the herders were not quite so passive. The bug-killer stillscowled, but he spoke without the preliminary sulky silence of the daybefore,

  "We're goin' across the coulee," he growled. "Them's orders. We rangesouth uh here."

  "No, you don't," Weary dissented calmly. "Not by a long shot, you don't.You're going back where you come from--if you ask me. And you're goingquick!"