Fred Fearnot''s New Ranch
horses that they had bought, and shewas pleased with their appearance.
"Evelyn, here are a pair of grays," said Fred, "which Terry and I saybelong to you and Mary, and we hope you will love them as much and trainthem as you did those up at Fredonia."
"Oh, my. That is work for me, but I am glad of it. Have they gooddispositions?"
"Yes, the stable-man says that they are kind and gentle and verysusceptible to kind treatment."
From the big stable they emerged into the big barn lot, passed through agate in a division fence, and saw a big flock of chickens. There wereabout one hundred of the little things, all like little balls of down,following clucking mother hens all over the place.
Evelyn went into such expressions of delight at seeing a splendid flockthat made the boys smile.
"Haven't you any turkeys?" she asked.
"Not one," said Jack. "All the cowboys told me that the turkeys would gooff and find such an abundant supply of things to eat that they can't bekept at home. But we have ducks and geese, which are kept over inanother lot."
"Then they passed through another gate, where Evelyn saw a row ofcow-sheds, and a half dozen splendid looking Jersey cows.
"Oh, my," she cried. "I never saw such fat, beautiful milch-cows in mylife."
Jack ran up to two of the cows and put his arms around their necks,patted their faces and noses, and the mild-eyed beauties seemed to enjoythe petting.
"Fred, where in the world did you and brother find Jersey cows way downthis way?"
"Oh, we found them on some ranches on the line of the railroad furtherback east. We paid a pretty good price for them, too. Down here theranchmen don't seem to understand the value of the Jersey cow; so whenwe offered them a price that seemed the least bit extravagant, theyreadily parted with them. We are going to get more of them, for milk andbutter sell readily all along the line of the road; but we don't sellany buttermilk, though, for we let the little pigs have that, and thelittle chickens, too. Jack had an experienced man to build a dairy housein the latest approved style.
"Jack, is there any buttermilk in the dairy house now?" he asked.
"I don't know, sir; but I'll go and inquire." So he went to the dairymanwho had charge of the cows and the dairy house and found out that he hadabout half a barrel of buttermilk, just a little bit sour.
"Then have him bring several bucketfuls out to the little pigs."
The dairyman brought two big pails full of the buttermilk and poured itinto a big sheet-iron receptacle, circular in form and about four inchesdeep. The little pigs came running up to the gate, crying like littlepigs do when they smell food, and the gate was opened to let them get atit, and every one, of course, stuck his nose into the buttermilk clearup to his eyes, and they drank and pushed against each other until theirstomachs actually looked swollen.
Evelyn stood and looked on, her eyes fairly sparkling with delight. Shepicked up several of the little fellows, who seemed to be used to beinghandled. They behaved, of course, like all little pet pigs.
"Oh, what a sight!" she exclaimed. "How I do wish mother could see it."
"And Mary, too," added Terry.
"Yes, for she, too, is very fond of pigs and chickens, and milch cows."
When the little pigs couldn't drink any more buttermilk they were drivenback into the lot where the sows were, and then the big pans were shovedin so that the sows could drink the balance. Then they showed Evelynwhere the ducks and geese were kept.
"Why in the world don't you let them run out and graze? Don't you knowthat ducks and geese live on grass just like cows and horses?"
"Yes, but we haven't arranged for that yet. These ducks and geese werebought by Jack, while we were up in New York and there is such a widerange that he has been afraid, to turn them out to go where they please.Then, the coyotes, too, are very fond of ducks and geese. A chicken canrise on the wing and get away, but fat ducks and geese can be caughtbefore they can flap their wings three times. We will gradually build awire mesh fence and turn them out so they will be protected from thecoyotes and foxes."
After that Evelyn took a look at the dairy house. It had been built infirst-class style by an experienced dairyman, and was large enough tomanage the products of fifty cows if necessary, and Fred made the remarkthat he hoped to some day have that many Jersey cows on hand.
"Sister," put in Terry, "it won't cost a dollar a month more out here tokeep a dozen milch cows than it would cost to keep a half dozen, forthey can feed on the grass all day long, and at the present season thegrass is very full of milk, and there are two of these cows whose yieldof milk is so abundant that it is necessary to milk them at noon."
"Brother," she asked, "how is the grass in the winter? Does it dry upand turn brown like the grass in Colorado?"
"Yes, I believe it does; but the winters down here are at least twomonths shorter then they are up in Colorado. We expect to cut severalhundred tons of hay while it is yet young and fresh and full of milk,and feed that to the milch cows during the winter. The beef cattle onthe range can keep fat on the dry grass like those on all ranches do."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," replied Evelyn, "for by that means youwill have the abundant supply of milk that you are now getting."
She inspected every part of the dairy, particularly the arrangement forkeeping all of the utensils perfectly clean.
Then she returned to the house, when Fred invited her to come out to thestore.
"Why, goodness gracious!" she exclaimed. "Have you a store out here?"
"Yes; that building out there fronting on the wagon road is the store,and it does a particularly good business with the ranchmen who drivealong the road."
"Well, well, well! What do you keep on sale there?"
"Oh, we've got an experienced salesman, who was raised in the business.He sells everything in the dry goods line and groceries and patentmedicines. Of course, the dry goods are only such as ranchmen andfarmers' wives need. If you want silks and fancy ribbons you would haveto drive to Crabtree. Drummers come along nearly every day with samplesof goods their employers have for sale, so if you want anythingdifferent from what we have in the store, you can order it throughthem."
"Well, I want to go in there and see the stock," so she went over withthe boys, and Terry introduced her to the storekeeper as his sister. Hewas a single man, so he stared at her in open-eyed wonder, as she wasperhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. She foundthat there was a little of almost everything that was kept in a countrystore. There was very little fancy goods, however, to be had there.
While they were in the store a two-horse wagon drove up and stopped infront of the store. The wagon was driven by an old farmer, who had withhim his wife and two daughters. Fred and Terry ran out of the store tohelp the ladies out of the wagon.
"Mrs. Jones." said Terry, "I am really glad that you have come. Mysister arrived to-day, and you are the first neighbor that she willmeet."
"Oh, my! Is she going to live here on the ranch?"
"Yes, until she gets tired of it. Then she will run up and stop at thehotel at Crabtree for a change. But she is of a domestic turn, and as weintend to have everything that can be raised on a ranch, we think thatshe will be satisfied to stay."
He was well acquainted with Mrs. Jones and her husband as well as thetwo daughters, so he led the women into the store, where he introducedthem to Evelyn by name.
The girls were about fifteen and eighteen rears of age, respectively,and as Evelyn shook hands with them and welcomed them, they stared ather as though she were a royal personage.
"Girls," said she, addressing the two daughters, "this is the first timeI was ever on this ranch. Brother and Mr. Fearnot owned a ranch up inColorado, and there was no other ranch like it in all that state. I amvery fond of domestic life. They have a big flock of chickens, ducks andgeese and a splendid dairy-house, where they make fine butter and givethe buttermilk to the pigs. I have just been over the place to see them,and I am as happy as the youngest pig on
the place," and she laughed somerrily that the girls forgot that she was a stranger and laughedheartily with her, but her dress was so much better than that which theywore that they actually felt awed as they looked her over.
"Mrs. Jones," she said, turning to the mother, "how far is it from thisplace to your home?"
"Oh, it's fully ten miles. We are running a farm, not a ranch; but Idon't know what to make of your brother and Mr. Fearnot raising pigs andchickens and making butter for sale on a ranch. I never heard of suchthings being done on a ranch before."
"Oh, brother and Mr. Fearnot believe in raising everything that can picka living on the big ranch. There are now a thousand beef cattle on