Chapter Eight Exile
The account of Jim's speech before the Rotary Club and his subsequentfinding of Horace by the roadside received prominent mention in the nextissue of the Springdale _Gazette_. As usual, Bill Arnold gave the accountof both episodes with many asides and much humor. Mr. Meadows read thepaper with amusement and considerable pride. He had been very intriguedwhen the first account and the advertisement of the Pony Express hadappeared. Now his pride in his locally famous son grew even greater. Hewas well aware how hard Jim had been working and saving and knew withoutquestion what the purpose was behind all the industry. With quietsatisfaction he watched his son going out to drive cattle, run errands,or work at the auction.
Jim's father was also becoming reconciled to Ticktock. As the mustangblossomed under Jim's loving care, the older man could see that he hadbeen rather hasty in his first judgment. Much against his will, he had toadmit, at least to himself, that Ticktock was an unusually smart horse.Now that he had put on some flesh he was also a rather smart-appearingpony. In spite of all his observations, Mr. Meadows said nothing. Likemost men, he hated to admit that he had been wrong. Also, he wasreluctant to abandon a stand that he had definitely taken. He had saidthat Ticktock must go when fall came, and he hated to eat crow. In hisown mind he resolved to say nothing further about the matter but insteadjust let events take their own natural course.
He knew Jim would never dispose of the pony until he was forced to; so ifnothing was said the pony would simply remain by silent agreement. Mr.Meadows knew that he would ease his son's mind a great deal if he couldtell the boy about his change of heart, but somehow he never seemed tofind the right moment. After all, he decided, the worry was doing Jim noharm but merely making him work harder to earn money for feed. So thedays went by and nothing was said on either side about the pony's fate.Jim could sense a little lessening of the hostility on his father's part,but he was still worried. Mr. Meadows seldom changed his mind when hemade a decision and thus far Jim did not want to play his trump cardabout paying for Ticktock's feed. However, it was still summer, and hefelt there was plenty of time.
Jim made himself a lariat and began practicing. It was a slow process buthe was determined. After about a week's exercise he was able to whirl anopen loop over his head. Then he began lassoing fence posts, tree stumps,and even occasionally his sister Jean. After several trials of thelatter, however, he had to abandon Jean as a target. She objected ratherloudly to being roped and wouldn't play unless Jim let her take turns atlassoing him. Jean had been rather lonely all summer anyhow, as Jim spentmost of his time with Ticktock instead of playing with her as in formeryears. Jim would give in and let her try roping him, but half a dozenunsuccessful attempts would usually end with Jean hitting him in the eyewith the rope. Although he was very fond of his young sister, he had agreat deal of contempt for women as cowboys.
Lariat practice]
Ticktock watched all this practice with good-natured scorn. He had seenexperts twirling a lariat and had no illusions about Jim's ability. Anumber of times when Jim would fail miserably in a cast at a fence post,Ticktock would open his jaws and give an unmistakable horse laugh.However, he was an indulgent horse and realized Jim was young. So, whenJim got to the stage of attempting to lasso from horseback, Ticktockpatronizingly cooperated.
A dummy was constructed of bags wrapped around a pole set in a heavywooden base. This fake man was set up in the drive and Jim would dashpast madly, astride Ticktock, whirling his lariat. About one cast in fourhis noose would encircle the dummy. Then the end of the lariat would bewrapped around the saddle horn and the horse and rider would drag theirvictim triumphantly down the drive.
Practicing one thing for too long a period grew tiresome, especially whenthe average of success was as low as it was with Jim's roping endeavors.So he would alternate with teaching Ticktock to jump. First a longtwo-by-four was laid on two bricks about six inches from the ground. Jimwould ride up to the improvised bar at a full gallop, part of the timeswerving away or stopping, and other times urging his horse over the bar.Ticktock caught on to the new game in a surprisingly short time. He wasprepared to jump or swerve at the slightest sign from his master. The barkept creeping higher and higher until Jim was certain his mustang couldsail over any ordinary fence.
Jim was feeling particularly jaunty and complacent one morning, for hehad made three perfect casts in a row during his roping practice. Afterthe third cast he jumped off his horse, freed the dummy from the noose,and carelessly set the apparatus upright very near a small evergreen treebordering the drive. Remounting, he went all the way to the front gatefor his next approach. He came down the lane at a full gallop swinging anexceptionally large noose. As he tore past the dummy, he swung wildly.Out of the corner of his eye he could see the loop encircle the dummy.Jim wrapped the end of his lariat around the saddle horn and bracedhimself as if he had just roped a huge steer. It was well he did, forunfortunately the noose caught the evergreen also. There was a terrifictug on the lariat and before the horse and rider could stop, half thebranches on the little evergreen had been ripped off and were beingdragged down the lane with the dummy.
Jim stopped the pony and wheeled to gaze in dismay at the havoc he hadwrought. It was a sorry-looking tree with the upper half naked and torn.While Jim was considering what to do next, he discovered that he wasn'tthe only one staring at the tree. His mother was standing on the frontporch, hands on hips, looking at the evergreen. Her face boded no goodfor the cowboy and his horse. Mrs. Meadows was very proud of her lawn andflowers. The trim little evergreen had been one of her pet trees.
"Young man, what do you think you are doing with that rope of yours?" shedemanded sternly.
"Lassoing," said Jim humbly.
"So I see. Well, there will be no more lassoing around here if you haveto practice on my trees."
"I didn't mean to," explained Jim. "I was roping the dummy."
"And the tree got in the way," said Mrs. Meadows, nodding her head. "Doyou have any idea how much it would cost to replace that tree?"
"How much?" asked Jim hoping that it would be some such sum as three orfour dollars. He would then offer to pay for a new tree and settle thematter. After all, it couldn't be much, as there were evergreens all overthe hills.
"About twenty-five dollars; that's a golden cypress."
Jim's heart sank. He couldn't afford such a sum as that, so instead ofbeing able to offer casually to replace the damage he was forced tomumble, "I'm sorry."
"That doesn't replace the tree," said his mother sternly. "From now onthere will be no more roping around here. I want you to take a book overto Mrs. Alsop. When you come back you can go down and help your father inthe garden. Perhaps if you are kept busy enough you won't be into anymischief."
Feeling very contrite, Jim took the book and went riding off to theAlsop's. He completed his errand and turned back toward home. His spiritsbegan to rise on the way back. His mother didn't harbor a grudge long andluckily his father hadn't witnessed the incident. He would rush down tothe garden as soon as he returned and work like mad to correct the badimpression he had made.
Mr. Meadows was busy in the garden picking watermelons. They had anexceptionally large patch that year, and melons were bringing high pricesin Springdale. He carefully picked the largest and ripest and stackedthem near the fence. He rapidly collected a huge pile, all he couldpossibly haul to town in one trip of the car. He had just about completedhis selection of all the ripe melons when Jim came tearing down the lane.
Most of the fences were barbed wire around the farm and too dangerous, inJim's opinion, to jump unless there were some vital reason. However, thegarden was bordered by a relatively low board fence. It seemed the mostnatural thing in the world to ride Ticktock directly to the garden andthus show how anxious he was to help his father.
Unable to see what was on the other side, Jim came sailing grandly overthe fence. It was a be
autiful jump with a very inglorious landing.Ticktock came down squarely on the center of the pile of watermelons.Fortunately the mustang recovered his balance and didn't break a leg. Asit was, the result was bad enough. Broken watermelons were scattered farand wide, the luscious juice dripping over the ground.
"You wild Indian!" shouted Mr. Meadows. "Look what you've done!"
Jim could only stare in consternation. There must have been at least adozen melons broken and no telling how many cracked. Numbed, he got downfrom his horse.
"Gee, I didn't know they were there, Dad."
"Obviously. You've ruined half my morning's work with that crazy horse ofyours," said his father, the old animosity toward the mustang coming backin his anger.
"Ticktock just jumped where I told him to," explained Jim, who wasanxious above all else to remove any blame from his horse. "It was myfault."
Ticktock was very calm. He turned around to survey the damage and becameinterested in the broken melons. He had never looked at a melon closelybefore and was intrigued. He bent his head down and took a nibble at someof the ripe red pulp. It tasted delicious. Curious as to just how a melonwas made, he reached out with a forefoot and pawed one of the remainingunbroken ones. It cracked readily, exposing the red interior. Verypleased with himself, Ticktock took another big nibble.
"Will you look at that!" shouted the now enraged Mr. Meadows. "Notsatisfied with breaking half the pile, that fool horse has to crackanother melon and eat it."
Jim hadn't been watching his horse too closely, but now he grabbedTicktock's reins to prevent further damage.
"I'll pick some more," he offered. "I came down here to help you."
"You're certainly a big help," said his father. "Get that horse out of mysight. I'll do better without you. There's been enough of thisirresponsible jumping and chasing around here. You should never havetaught him to jump in the first place. How are you going to keep him anyplace when he can jump fences?"
Sadly Jim led his pony out of the garden gate. It had certainly been adisastrous day. He left the mustang tied to the orchard fence and wentinto the house.
"Now what's the matter?" asked Mrs. Meadows, looking at her son's face ashe entered.
"I jumped over the garden fence and landed on the watermelons Dad waspicking."
Jim's mother was still irked about her tree; so she was not toosympathetic.
"You are entirely too wild with that horse of yours," she said sternly."It's time you stopped being so heedless."
Jim considered this additional rebuke for a while in silence. Everybodywas angry with him and no one cared for Ticktock, he decided. They justweren't wanted any more. The only solution was to go away. He had no ideaof running away permanently, but he felt he had to get away from histroubles.
"Can I have some sandwiches?" he asked. "I want to make a trip and getaway from it all."
"I guess so," said Mrs. Meadows, trying not to smile at her son's dolefulcountenance. "When do you expect to come back from this trip?"
"What do you have for supper?"
"Steak for one thing and apple pie for another."
"I guess my nerves will be steady enough by suppertime," said Jimjudiciously.
After he packed his lunch in his saddlebags, Jim rode off down the road.He decided to carry out his long delayed project of exploring BriggsWoods. He had been so busy recently that he had forgotten his resolve.
The quiet gloom of the woods just fitted Jim's mood of black despondency.After he reached the center of the forested area, he turned up one of thelittle trails that led invitingly into the tangled depths. He followedthe first one for some distance. It was slow going, winding in and outbetween the trees, trying to keep branches from slapping him in the face.Finally the path just faded and disappeared, leaving him nowhere. Thesecond and third attempts were equally unsuccessful. Feeling that the jobof exploring was vastly overrated, Jim decided to abandon the falsetrails. He struck off through the woods, following roughly the course ofa stream. He had no fears about returning, putting complete trust inTicktock's ability to find the way home.
Deep in the woods he turned from the main stream and followed a tinybrook up an incline. Suddenly, to his delight, he came out in a smallnatural clearing. There was bright sunshine on the deep grass, while thelittle stream trickled away merrily at one end of the clearing. The openarea which was almost flat was several acres in extent. Tall trees grewon every side, giving perfect seclusion.
"What a swell hideaway," Jim said to his horse excitedly. "There's plentyof pasture and water for you and no one could ever find us."
He began to make plans immediately for his secret camp. He would bringover his roping dummy and his jumping bar. At one end of the clearing hecould build a brush hut. As he planned, his ideas grew larger. He wouldmake a big brush hut, big enough for Ticktock. In front of it he wouldbuild a fireplace where he could cook. Then, if no one at home wanted himand Ticktock, they would come here to live. He could cut some of the hayfor the winter. Perhaps he would also buy some grain and store it. As forhimself, he would trap and hunt for food. Now and then he wouldmysteriously appear in town with valuable furs to sell. He would buycandy and cakes and other delicacies and then disappear as mysteriously.People would wonder where he lived and perhaps try to follow him, but ifanyone came too near the hide-out he would think up some plan to scarethem. Soon they would say the woods were haunted.
Jim ate his lunch full of all these plans, while Ticktock unconcernedlycropped the grass. As the afternoon wore on, Jim decided to wait at leastanother day before he became a lonely woodsman. He would eat one moresupper at home since there was apple pie. He rode home and went in tosupper with an air of secrecy.
There was no crisis at home that evening; so Jim further delayed his planof moving. However, the following day he did take his jumping bar and hisroping dummy to the new hide-out. He also took a hatchet and spent thebetter part of several days building a brush hut which looked veryimpressive, even though the brush roof did leak. In front of it he builthis fireplace. He thought about buying some weiners in town and holding aweiner roast, but somehow the idea didn't seem too much fun alone.
Ticktock and he seemed to be partially forgiven at home; so Jim stayedon. There was no use becoming an exile if you didn't have to, heconcluded sensibly. Still, it seemed a pity to waste such a perfecthideaway. He used it for roping practice and for jumping, but it seemedthere should be something more dramatic that he could do.
It was hard to keep the secret of the hide-out to himself; so Jim beganto hint darkly to Jean about his lonely spot. At first that young ladybegged to be let in on the secret. She wanted to accompany him to hishidden headquarters and teased and begged for several days. That suitedJim exactly, and he went about acting mysterious and important. However,Jean was not quite so guileless as her brother thought. Although she wasonly ten, she knew a little about handling men, her brother inparticular. She dropped her attitude of pleading and began to scoffopenly.
"You are just making up the whole thing," she said derisively. "Youhaven't got a secret hangout any more than I have."
Several days of complete indifference had its effect on Jim. He felt hehad to prove his story. He felt a bit guilty about neglecting Jean allsummer anyhow; so he planned a grand picnic. Riding to town, he boughtsome weiners, marshmallows and cookies. The rest of his supplies hesecured at home and got permission from his parents for the excursion.
With Jean mounted behind him, he rode to Briggs Woods. He felt thatrevealing the general area of his hangout was not giving away too much ofhis secret. Once in the woods, however, he insisted on blindfolding hissister, extracting a solemn promise not to peek. She submitted to havinga large red bandanna tied over her eyes, even enjoying the mystery. Jimthen made his way to the hide-out, making several unnecessary circles toconfuse his companion. When they arrived in the middle of the clearing hewhisked off the bandage.
Jean looked around at the little clearing expectantly. There was nothingvery exciting. br />
"Why it's nothing but a big open space!" she exclaimed.
"But look what nice pasture there is for Ticktock, with water andeverything," explained Jim, a trifle annoyed at the poor impression hisheadquarters made.
"Well, that's nice enough," admitted Jean who wasn't much interested insuch details. She wanted something smaller and much more secret.
"There's my hut and fireplace," said Jim pointing.
"I like that," said his sister finally, feeling she had to say somethingcomplimentary since her brother had gone to such trouble to bring her onthe picnic.
They played for a time and then gathered dry wood for a fire. After theyhad roasted the weiners and marshmallows, and stuffed themselves withcookies, Jim stretched out lazily on the grass. This was the life. Hebegan to daydream that he was a cowboy who was hiding his sister fromdangerous kidnappers.
Jean, although she had enjoyed the day immensely, felt that there wasstill something being kept from her. In her mind a hide-out couldn't betwo acres of open pasture, even though it was concealed in the middle ofa wood. She suspected there was more to the place than Jim had shown her.
"I think I'll walk around a little," she said casually.
"O.K., but don't go outside of shouting distance," warned her brother ina superior tone. "It's awful easy to get lost unless you know the woodslike Ticktock and I do."
One side of the clearing was bounded by a rocky hill which sloped upabruptly. Jean chose this side to explore. She started climbing upwardthrough the rocks. After approximately half an hour went by, Jim decidedit was time that he had some word from his sister. He was about to shoutwhen he heard her calling him.
"Jim, guess where I am," she shouted
"I don't know; where are you?"
"I'm in your hide-out, smarty!"
Completely puzzled Jim started toward the hillside. He looked up at thesteep rocky slope in bewilderment.
"I can't see you," he said finally.
"Here I am," came her voice from almost over his head.
Jim looked up as his sister appeared from behind a short stunted treeabout fifteen feet up the face of what was almost a cliff.
"It's really a wonderful cave," said Jean.
"Huh?" exclaimed Jim in complete astonishment.
"Don't look so surprised because I found it. I knew there was more toyour hideaway than just a big field."
Jim found a narrow ledge that made an easy path up to the tree. When hepulled the stumpy pine tree to one side there was the narrow entrance tothe cave. It was a dark opening about two feet wide and four feet high.
"As long as you found it you might as well see the inside," said Jim,trying to talk casually. "I'll run down and get the flash light."
He didn't quite keep the excitement out of his voice, and Jean lookedafter him with growing suspicion. When he returned they made their wayinside excitedly.
"How big is it?" asked Jean as she followed her brother through theopening.
"Why--uh--just medium," answered Jim, trying to flash his light aroundquickly in order to answer the question correctly.
There was only one room to the cave, but it was spacious and dry. Theceiling arched above their heads at least twelve feet. Along one of thestone walls there was a natural ledge at just the right height for a bedor a seat.
"This will make a swell place," said Jim incautiously.
"I don't think you have ever been in here before," accused Jean. "Haveyou?"
"Well, not exactly," hedged Jim not wanting to tell an outright lie.
"Is there another cave?" asked Jean.
"Not that I know of. All there was to my hide-out I showed you. The trickis in finding your way here. You don't seem to realize how important apasture is to a secret headquarters. A cowboy has to have some place forhis horse to graze. What good would a cave do? You couldn't keep a horsein a cave."
"I'd rather play pirate or robbers," decided Jean. "Then a cave would beperfect. You wouldn't need a pasture or a horse either."
As they resaddled Ticktock and prepared to leave, Jean continued herargument.
"I think the hide-out should be half mine since I discovered the cave,"she maintained.
Jim pondered the question thoroughly. Jean's demands did seem fair, forthe cave certainly added tremendously to the hide-out. Still, if theemergency arose and he had to return to his original plan of disappearingwith Ticktock, he didn't want Jean to know his whereabouts. A woman couldnever keep a secret, and she would certainly tell her parents. No, unfairas it seemed, he would have to keep his headquarters to himself.
Protesting bitterly, Jean was blindfolded. "It isn't fair," she stormed.
Jim was firm, however, so they rode off toward home. Since Jean felt herbrother was being very unjust, she decided she no longer had to keep herpromise not to peek. While Jim was busy keeping the branches from hittingthem in the face, she took cautious peeps from beneath the handkerchief.