After breakfast the little party went out upon the broad veranda.
The sun was still red, but it was growing smaller and hotter as it
mounted into the sky.
Its slanting rays lighted up a rolling prairie, illimitable in expanse
and stretching away till its irregular, wavy outline was marked against
the sky.
Now and then, miles away, small clumps of stunted jack-oaks or mesquite
made dark green polka dot spots on the lighter color of the grass, while
far away lay a genuine chaparral thicket.
Between the ranch and the chaparral a herd of several hundred cattle
were feeding.
Near the ranch house were outbuildings and corrals.
In the vicinity of these a number of cowboys could be seen moving about.
Still urging the boys to make themselves at home, Rodney left them.
Before he departed, he sighted a body of horsemen riding down rapidly
from the northeast.
"Here come the boys from Tilford's ranch," he said. "I knew they'd be
the first ones to show up."
The boys watched the approaching riders with interest. Before long they
could be plainly seen, and, as they came near the ranch, they broke into
a mad gallop and came tearing across the prairie.
Anything wilder in appearance than those leather-clad "punchers" the
imagination could not conceive. They yelled and cracked their quirts,
spreading out into a long line, mounted on tough little ponies, which
tore over the ground with a twinkling movement of the legs which was
bewildering to one accustomed to the movements of an ordinary galloping
horse.
Upon the heads of the riders were broad-brimmed hats, some of them being
of stiff rawhide and some being the well-known Stetson sombrero, which
cost anywhere from eighteen to eighty dollars.
Every man had a handkerchief knotted about his neck, and a cartridge
belt, bearing heavy revolvers in open holsters, about his waist.
Their hair was long and unkempt, and their faces were weather-tanned.
Some had on long-legged, high-heeled boots, and some wore leather
leggins, while at the heels of every man were heavy, murderous-looking
spurs.
With their jangling spurs, flapping ropes and buckskin strings,
broad-brimmed hats, bright-colored handkerchiefs, they certainly were a
most impressive cavalcade of prairie scamperers.
As they swept toward the corrals near the ranch, Rodney's men ran out
and greeted them with a yell.
In return the Tilford men suddenly jerked out their "guns," and sent
twenty shots into the air. Then they flung the little ponies on their
haunches, stopping in an instant with such suddenness that almost any
fairly expert rider must have been sent flying headlong over the
animal's ears to the ground.
"There, fellows," smiled Frank, with a wave of his hand toward the
arrivals, "there is a band of genuine wild and woolly cow-punchers. Take
a good look at them, for the real cowboy is disappearing, and, in a very
few years you will not be able to see a sight like that anywhere on this
continent."
"I suppose they are all right," said Diamond, "but it is plain enough
that they are great bluffers."
"In what way?" asked Frank, quickly.
"In their get up. There is no reason why they should look so extremely
tough beyond their own personal desire to appear like bad men."
"I think you are wrong, old fellow. Name something about them that they
might discard."
"Their long hair, to begin with. That is pure affectation."
"Not at all. Long hair is a necessity with them."
"Get out! How?"
"Well, you know they are exposed to all kinds of weather. Their business
is out of doors, rain or shine, and in many changes of climate. They
have found by experience that long hair protects their eyes and ears. If
they were to keep their hair cut short, many of them would be troubled
with sore eyes, pains in the head and loud ringing in the ears."
"That may be true," acknowledged Jack; "but just look at those
outrageous hats."
"That is the only sort of hat suitable for cowboys to wear, as it
protects from from the sun and from the rain. The very fact that it has
been used for generation after generation without changing fashion is
enough to indicate that necessity, not vanity, dictated its origin."
"But see those wretched rawhide affairs."
"I see them. Those are the cheap hats, and they are made by the cowboys
themselves. Years ago every cowboy made his own hat, as manufacturers
had not discovered that there was money in making hats for the punchers.
An old cattleman once told me how they made their hats."
"How it peen done, Vrankie? You toldt us dot," urged Hans.
"When a cowboy wanted to make a hat for himself, he went out and dug in
the ground a hole as near the size and shape of his head as he could
make it. Then a large, circular piece of rawhide, soft, wet and pliable,
was spread over the hole. Next, with a bunch of grass or buckskin, the
center of the rawhide was pressed down into the hole till it assumed its
size and shape. The surrounding circle of hide, which was to be the
brim, was kept flat on the ground by constant patting and pressing with
the hands. When the hat was molded, it was left till it was well dried
by the sun. Then it was taken to a place where smoke and heat scorched
it till it was perfectly waterproof. When it was trimmed with strings
and straps, it was ready for use."
"How about those bright handkerchiefs the men use about their necks?
Surely those are worn to attract attention. They might be carried in the
pocket quite as well."
"Wrong again, Jack. Very often when riding at full speed the eyes of the
cowboy are filled with mud or sand, and then the handkerchief is ready
for use. The man can catch up a corner and wipe out his eyes without
pulling in his horse. In sand storms the handkerchief is sometimes
called into use as a veil. Having it tied about his neck, the owner of
the handkerchief knows it is secure. If he had to take it out and
restore it to his pocket every time he used it, he would lose it
frequently. Sometimes he uses the handkerchief when his horse is racing
along, and the animal stumbles. The handkerchief must be dropped
instantly. He could not fail to lose it if it were not tied about his
neck."
"Well, look at those outrageous leather leggins. What are they for?"
"To protect their clothes from the wear and tear of the saddles, from
being torn by thorns, mesquite or cactus, and sometimes to protect them
from rattlesnakes."
"Hush! Well, how about the high heels on their boots? I have you there!
That is a pure case of vanity, and you must acknowledge it."
Frank smiled.
"Not at all, my boy. Those boots cost from eighteen to forty dollars a
pair, and are made to order. The heels are long and sloping toward the
sole of the foot not to make the foot look small, but to keep it from
slipping out of the stirrup in a time of danger, when the cowboy's horse
may be tearing along at breakneck speed. Those boots are made to ride
in, not to walk in."
"But the spurs--the spurs!" cried Diamond, triumphantly. "They are
outrageous and cruel. Surely those huge implements of torture are made
thus to look savage and attract attention."
"Not a bit of it. Singular as it may seem, the smaller spurs used in the
East are much more cruel. They cut the horse; these big spurs do not.
They are made big and strong that they may not wear out. Sometimes the
only way a cowboy can save his horse from being run down by a mad steer
is by using the spur sharply. At such a time it is far better for a
horse to be prodded with a steel spur than to have a foot or more of
horns run into him, which might result in the throwing of the rider to
be trampled to death, and the loss of several hundred cattle. See?"
Diamond looked discomfited.
"At least, on one point I have you," he cried. "You can't get around
it."
"Name the point."
"The fringe--the fringe on their suits. There is pure vanity, you will
admit."
"Quite the contrary. The fringe comes along the outside seam of their
trousers and sleeves. There is no sewing there, but the buckskin is
slashed in narrow strip and knotted together. That is the purpose the
fringe plays. The ends are left to hide the knots and any holes that
might be seen gaping between them."
"Begobs!" cried Barney, in admiration, "it's yersilf, Frankie, thot
knows all about it, but pwhere yez got yer infermation is pwhat Oi
dunno."
"This is not the first time I have been among the cowboys, and I always
keep eyes and ears open wherever I am. I have managed to pick up such
knowledge as I possess concerning them by watching and listening. They
have ever been very interesting to me."
"Mr. Merriwell, I congratulate you!" cried Sadie Rodney. "I am surprised
to find a 'tenderfoot' knows so much about cow-punchers."
"I'd never faound aout half that if I'd lived right with them a year,"
declared Ephraim Gallup. "They're darned pecooler critters, an' I guess
this one comin' this way is one of the most pecooler 'mongst 'em."
Indian Charlie had left the others, and was sauntering toward the little
party on the veranda.
Sadie Rodney looked serious, and shrank close to Inza, in whose ear she
murmured:
"I am afraid of that man. He has asked me to marry him. I have refused
him a dozen times, but he persists, and he says he will have me in spite
of myself. I do not dare anger him, for there is no telling what he
might do."
Frank heard her words.
"The fellow deserves a good thumping!" he mentally exclaimed.