As Nell approached the chuck-wagon, the eyes of the cowpunchers of the
many ranches represented, looked at her with open approval, not unmixed
with curiosity, for they all had heard the episode of Walton's green
whiskers, and the romantic meeting of the Boss, of the Diamond H and the
girl to whom he had been engaged in the East.
Bronco helped her down from her pony, and escorted her to a seat of
honour--an empty box that had formerly held canned tomatoes. The men sat
tailor-fashion around the canvas that did duty as a table-cloth.
Nell's eyes scanned the table. Granite pans full of boiled potatoes,
frijoles--the small red bean grown by Mexicans, which forms the
principal article of diet on any Arizona ranch--an enormous dish held a
stew made of "jerky," which Nell recognized, for she was becoming
initiated into many things that were strange. She had seen Fong pounding
strips of sun-dried meat, and watched it transformed to a savory stew,
while he explained that the cowboys carried it in their pockets and ate
it without cooking.
She sniffed with appreciation the coffee, and accepted the big tin cup
with a smile, then added condensed milk from the can Bronco passed to
her.
"What lovely biscuit!" she exclaimed, as a white cloth was deposited in
front her, and the golden tan biscuit, steaming hot were uncovered. "I
don't see how it can be done without a real stove!" The camp cook
grinned his approval of a woman of such intelligence.
The clatter of tin plates, iron knives and forks, was broken with
laughter or jokes by the punchers at each other's expense. Life during
the rodeo was a combined circus and school-day vacation when off duty
with the herd. Then, it was grim, hard work. The feeling of restraint at
first noticeable when Nell sat on her improvised throne, gradually
evaporated as she joined in the laughter. It vanished completely when
she slipped from the box to the ground, to be "nearer the biscuit," she
laughed as she reached out and appropriated one.
Jamie, seated between Bronco and Limber, was silent but happy, as they
acclaimed him "one of the Diamond H outfit," and a "regular puncher,
now."
The first relay moved away, some taking their places with the herd to
allow the other men their turn at the chuck, but many of them were off
duty for a time, and these loafed and talked together, the smoke of
their cigarettes forming tiny clouds about their heads. Nell rose and
made her way to a fallen log, on which she dropped with a smile at
Bronco who had followed her and Jamie from the table.
While she admired Limber, there was a boyish irrepressibility about
Bronco that made a little bond between them. He reached into the
breast-pocket of his blue flannel shirt and withdrew the hand, partly
closed. Jamie looked at it curiously as he saw it was extended to him.
Bronco's fingers opened, and Nell and the child stared at a strange
thing blinking sleepily.
"What is it?" they asked simultaneously.
"Horn-toad," Bronco replied. "Caught him this mornin' and I was pretty
sure you hadn't seen one, so I kept him."
"Won't he bite?" Jamie's tones were doubtful.
"Not on your life," answered the cowboy.
They regarded the little creature as Bronco put it on the ground and
dragged a bit of string from his pocket. He tied this about the toad's
hind legs close to the body.
"Look at him," was the command, as Bronco slid his finger over the
rough, tiny-horned back from tail to head.
With a wild scurry of legs, the toad raced to the end of the string and
struggled to escape; but, Bronco's finger touched its head and moved
gently toward the jerking tail. The toad's eyes closed, his head drooped
toward the ground, the legs and tail became motionless. Jamie gave a
little squeal of delight, and cried, "He's gone to sleep!"
"Hang onto the string a minit."
Jamie clutched it, while Bronco held a consultation with the cook at the
tail-board of the chuck-wagon. Soon he returned with a small, empty
match-box.
"This'll make a fine wagon," he announced, tying the match-box to the
end of the string. "Now, thar we are! All you gotter do to make him move
lively is run your finger 'long his back like I done, and contrarywise,
from his head to his tail, if you want him to stop. When I was a kid in
Texas, me an' my little brother uster catch 'em and have races this
way."
A grin spread over his face and he looked up at Nell, "Say, Mrs.
Traynor, Maw hated horn-toads. Bill an' me rounded-up twenty of 'em
once, and hid 'em in a closet in a box. The box got upsot someways in
the night, and when Maw got up to start breakfast you never heerd such a
whoop! She put her foot on one of 'em. It didn't hurt the toad for she
took her foot off too quick, but Bill an me never brung any more into
the house after that mornin'. You see, when she put down her other foot,
she hit another toad, an' that room was jest naturally alive with 'em.
We rounded-up the whole herd, twenty of 'em, but Maw said she knewed
thar was a thousand and the rest of 'em got away."
"I'm rather inclined to sympathize with your mother, Bronco," was Nell's
laughing comment. She shuddered, "Those little sharp horns are bad
enough to step on with a bare foot, but to feel the horns moving would
be rather upsetting, I should think."
"It was," Bronco rejoined soberly. "But Maw wasn't so upsot as we kids
was--afterwards."
Jamie devoted himself to his new pet, and Nell's eyes wandered to her
husband and Doctor Powell who were talking with another man, not far
away. She saw this man had a grizzly beard that seemed never to have
been cropped or shaven. The dry skin of neck and throat was wrinkled and
the texture and colour of a piece of Arizona jerky from long exposure to
the sun and wind. On his head, an old straw hat was guiltless of a
crown, but flaunted two dilapidated turkey quills. Tufts of unkempt hair
peered inquisitively over the broken edges above the ragged brim. A grim
mouth made a repository for a corn-cob pipe, and suspicious grey eyes
squinted from Powell's face to that of the Boss of the Diamond H.
Bronco saw her interest, and explained, "That's Paddy Lafferty, owns the
PL ranch and herd, that the doctor figgers on buyin'," then Nell
recalled the many stories she had already heard of this eccentric
character. Paddy's eyes caught hers, and she flushed guiltily as she
glanced away quickly.
"It's a dandy rodeo," she heard Bronco's voice beside her, as he sat on
the ground, knees drawn up, his muscular hands busy rolling a cigarette.
"I suppose I'll get used to wild cattle after a while," Nell hazarded,
"but, honestly, Bronco, I'm afraid of them. Their horns are so big and
sharp."
"Why!" the cowpuncher's amazement was undisguised. "These is
short-horns! We ain't got no long-horns on the range. You'd oughter seen
some of the ol' Texas long-horns we uster have. Lots of times the horns
was so wide we couldn't get a steer loaded into a box-car till we'd
sawed off the horns. And wild--" he paused for adequate words before he
finished, "Say, they was a cross between a deer an' a mountain-lion, so
fur as disposition counts!"
"Well, I never feel safe except on my pony."
"Say, Mrs. Traynor, you're dead safe anywheres in Arizona," the cowboy
assured her earnestly. "Why, if you was to walk over to that air herd,
you'd stampede it quick as a wink!"
Nell turned on him with dancing eyes, "For gracious' sakes, Bronco! Am I
such a scarecrow as all that?"
Bronco's face and ears grew red. "Oh, shucks! I didn't mean to say it
that way. But--you see--range stock is uster seein' men, foot or
horseback--a woman in petticoats is a new critter to 'em and plumb
paralyzes a herd. Thar was one time, though," he continued mournfully,
"I wisht so hard I was a woman that I derned nigh prayed for
petticoats."
He was immersed in deep thought for a few seconds, and then he demanded
suddenly, "Did the Boss ever tell you about the time I fooled myself
into thinkin' I was a bull-fighter?"
"No," was the reply, "but please tell me, won't you?"
"I don't mind it so much, now," Bronco grinned, "but thar was a time
when it sure made me sore to talk about it. You see, I been to Mexico
and seed a Mex bull-fighter. The feller what fit the bull belt a red
handkerchee out in front of him, and when the bull lit out for him, he
jest stepped one side and the bull went runnin' past with the
handkerchee hangin' over his eyes, like a widder's veil. Then the feller
stuck a bunch of ribbons on the bull and made it madder'n a hornet, an'
you can't blame a bull for gettin' mad at being laughed at that way. It
looked so easy that I thought it wasn't no trick noways--and I made up
my mind I'd do it myself, sometime." Nell faced him expectantly.
"Well, one day I was ridin' over from Hot Springs by the Mud Springs
trail, and it was near supper time, when the sun went down. I had twelve
miles to ride and we had a cranky cook at the ranch, an' I hadn't et
anythin' since five o'clock, sun-up. So, when I seen smoke comin' from
the camphouse at Mud Springs, you kin bet I humped along pretty lively.
"A feller from the east was stayin' thar fer his health. He was all
alone, an' glad to have some one call on him fer a change. I made myself
as entertainin' as I knowed how, hopin' fer an invite to chuck. He
cooked over a campfire, and said he wanted to get as near to Nature as
he could; but I couldn't see any sense in what he said. Whilst he kept
on cookin' supper an' not sayin' anythin' about expectin' me to stay, I
kept playin' fer time.
"Thar was an ol' buckskin cow standin' near in the brush, and I tol' him
about the bull-fight. He got interested, and I begin to see some chance
of chawin' that grub before long. Then I got smart and offered to show
him how they done it. He said I'd better not try it. Of course, I was
only bluffin' at first, but when he said that, it called my bluff. I
ambled over to thet ol' buckskin bag o' bones and guv her a crack over
the ridge-pole with my riata, but she never even looked at me. She was
thet ol' thet she must of been one of the great-grandmothers' of the
herd, and when I seen that I got brash." Bronco stared across space, his
hands dropping limp between his knees.
"I caught holt of her tail and twisted it, then I slapped her jaw. She
woke up some, an' I danced in front of her like a locoed ijit, wavin' my
red handkerchee an' yellin' like an Apache on the war-path. She guv one
beller, put her nose to the ground and come at me in dead earnest to
make me understand that a lady cow her age can't be trifled with.
"The tenderfoot yelled, 'Look out!' and made for a walnut tree and
shinnied up it, and thar he set peepin' out like a skeered chipmunk. I
wisht I was up thar longside of him, but had to get busy doin' what the
bull-fighter done. So, I stood thar and helt that durned handkerchee out
in front of me, jest like I seed him do, but, honest Injun! I'd ruther
hed a solid adobe wall in front of me just then. Well, that doggone
animile got five feet away, and then I seen that she had both eyes wide
open, instead of shettin' her eyes like a bull does when he charges.
"It paralyzed me so I fergot to move thet piece of red calicer and jest
stood thar holdin' it in front of me, whilst that damned tenderfoot was
whoopin' and screechin' his head off, 'She's a comin'! She's a comin'!'
Jest as if I didn't know it a heap sight better'n he did! Thar wasn't
any chanct left to run, and that ol' cow sure did come.
"She hit me squar and knocked the wind plum outen me, and I went down
an' chawed adobe dirt. She made holes all over my clothes, tromped me
from head to foot, rolled me over and over like I was a chunk of biscuit
dough, then she guv a snort and went off in the brush." Nell's eyes were
dancing and she leaned forward eagerly.
"I picked myself up," his voice was mournful, "just as the tenderfoot
clumb down from his perch. Neither one of us said a word. He was too
scairt to talk and I was too mad. The coffee pot was upset, the dinner
burnt to a cinder. I got on my horse and hit the trail for home. I tol'
the boys that my pony slid down the side of a canyon with me, and they'd
never knowed the difference if that damned tenderfoot hadn't come a
humpin' down the next day to see if I was hurt very bad." He heaved a
sigh, and kicked at a stone beside his foot.
"I got even with thet ol' cow, though. She was in the last bunch we
shipped for Kansas City, and I seen to it that she didn't get cut outen
the herd. But, I'll never forget her so long as thar is a buckskin cow
in Arizona Territory. The boys won't give me a chanct;" he paused, gazed
reflectively across the Valley, then added dolefully, "I'll never be
happy until I see some bigger fool than myself, buyin' all the ol'
buckskin cows in Arizona to ship 'em down to Mexico for bull fights."
Nell's laughter reached Powell, Traynor and Paddy as they approached
where she sat.
"This is Paddy Lafferty, Nell," said Traynor. "He has given an option on
his ranch and cattle to Doctor Powell."
She looked up at a tall, gaunt old man with stooping shoulders and
joints that seemed to be held together by loose wires, like a jointed
doll subjected to much handling.
Paddy regarded Nell sharply from under his ragged eyebrows, but as she
rose and held out her hand, smiling into his face, she unconsciously won
a loyal friend.
He squatted down on the ground beside her and listened to her merry
comments on the cattle business. Limber and Bronco, a short distance
away on their ponies, noted the episode.
"She's sure a thoroughbred prize-winner! Ain't she, Limber?" observed
Bronco admiringly.
"You bet! She gets her brand on every cowpuncher that comes on her
range, and the Kid is jest the same."
"Oh, say! Loco's here. Lookin' for a job. Green Whiskers sol' out last
week. Went back to Utah, Loco says. He's sure aching to get married,"
grinned Bronco. "It's kept him busy shavin' and cuttin' his hair,
lately."
"Loco's a good roper. Of course, he gets them crazy fits, but he's never
harmed any one round here. We'll need some extra hands, now, with Doctor
Powell buyin' Paddy's herd. We'll have to tail 'em in, so I'll see the
Boss about hirin' Loco whilst we got a chanct to get him."
Bronco nodded, for tailing a herd meant extra work, as each animal had
to be caught, the long hair on its tail cut off, and thus a tally of
numbers was made without rebranding. It was only done when an entire
herd was sold and the brand included in the sale.
"Tell him about that mix-up in the strays," called Bronco after Limber,
as the foreman rode toward Traynor.
While Limber's pony rubbed noses with Traynor's horse, Limber suggested
employing Loco. Traynor assented readily. Then Limber continued, "I
don't know just how to figger it out, but some one's tryin' to make
trouble for the Diamond H."
"How's that?" demanded Traynor, quickly.
"Well, two weeks ago Bronco seen a Diamond H calf, new-branded,
following a Bar 77 cow. He thought it was just a mistake, so vented it.
Then a few days later me and Holy run into two calves with the Diamond H
and one was followin' a Flyin' V cow, and the other was suckin' a Three
Moon. We straightened that out, and since then we've come across six
calves marked with the Diamond H and every durned one of 'em is suckin'
a cow with a different brand. We got to stop it quick."