JACK ARRIVES AT SWIFT CREEK RANCH.
Jack had been two months with Pedro Gomez, and the weather was getting
much colder. November had come, and although the sun still shone
brightly and warm in the middle of the day, the nights were terribly
cold, and Jack was glad enough to have the extra sheepskins to tuck
round him which Pedro brought out for his use. There had been one fall
of snow, which quickly cleared off the prairie again, leaving the
mountains clothed with white above the timber-line. It was a pretty
sight to see the contrast of the bright-coloured foliage against the
snow, for in the autumn, all along the mountain creeks, the leaves of
the oak-scrub turn a brilliant red, and those of the quaking aspen a
bright yellow, making a wonderful mass of colour.
One afternoon Pedro called Jack out to look at the mountains. The sun
was just setting, and its rays were spreading along the edge of the
peaks, making it look as if the whole outline of the range had been
marked out with a broad, blood-red ribbon.
'Look at that, Jack!' exclaimed the Mexican. 'Ain't that a grand
sight? D'ye know what the old pioneers called them mountains?'
'I've heard, but I've forgot somehow. It's a grand long name as I
can't remember,' returned Jack.
'Well, I guess ye'll bear it in mind after to-day, for they called it
_Sangre de Christo_, which in English means "Blood of Christ"; and
folks say they gave the Range that name because the first explorers saw
the mountains with that blood-red streak running along the top.'
'I shan't forget it now, I'm sure,' said Jack, gazing admiringly at the
gorgeous scene before them. '_Sangre de Christo_, Blood of Christ,' he
repeated slowly. 'I like that name for it.'
'Aye,' returned Pedro, 'the old Spanish explorers gave nicer names to
places than the new settlers have done later. Which d'ye think is
prettiest, names like _Huerfano_ (Orphan), _Buena Vista_ (Good View),
_Rosita_ (Little Rose), and _Rio Dolores_ (River of Sorrow); or
_Smith's Park_, _Taylor's Creek_, _Gibson's Peak_, and _Georgetown_,
and such-like? Mr. Stuart was talking to me once about it, and he said
it struck him as his own countrymen were mostly like them folk
mentioned in the Bible as called their lands after their own names.'
'I like the old names best, for it seems as if they had some meanin' in
'em,' said Jack. 'I never saw anythin' like them mountains at
Longview, and I'm glad to think our new home is somewhere near 'em.'
They stood watching until the glorious colour had quite faded out of
the sky, and then turned into the tent, sorry to see the last of it.
The next morning Jack was tidying out the tent, when he saw Pedro and
Senor hurrying towards him.
'Here's the boss himself!' cried Pedro, in a state of excitement.
'He's coming across the prairie in the spring waggon. Let's make up a
good fire, as he'll be terrible cold after his long drive.'
Jack helped to bring in logs, and they soon had a roaring fire in the
stove.
'Pedro,' asked the boy anxiously, 'd'you think he'll take me back with
him to his ranch?'
'I'm sure he will,' returned the Mexican, 'and I'll miss you sadly,
lad. I believe I couldn't part with you if I didn't know as you were
longing to see your father and mother.'
'I've been very happy along with you and Senor,' said Jack, 'but I'm
bound to go on to my own folks.'
'You're right. You belong to 'em first,' replied Pedro, 'though I'd
give a good deal to keep you. But now we must go and collect the
sheep, as the boss 'll want to see 'em.'
With Senor's help they ran the sheep into the big corral, and waited
there. The waggon soon rattled up to them, and Jack stood quietly by,
while the new-comer warmly greeted the Mexican.
'Well, Pedro, how are you making it this cold weather? Hope you and
the sheep keep fit.'
'Couldn't be better,' returned Pedro; 'and how are you all at the
ranch?'
'First-rate, thanks. If it hadn't been so cold, I'd have brought the
children with me for the drive. But, hello! who have you got here?'
And Mr. Stuart stared with surprise at Jack's quaint little figure
dressed in his leather suit. As he drove up he had noticed what he
thought was a young Mexican by Pedro (as Jack's face was tanned quite
brown), but when he had looked again, he was struck with the
intelligent look on the boy's face, and began to ask questions.
In answer, Pedro said, 'He's a little English boy who was left behind
at Las Vegas by a mining outfit he was travelling with. He tried to
follow 'em up, but got lost on the prairie in that bad thunderstorm we
had about a couple o' months back. When Senor and I found him, he had
an attack o' mountain fever, but I brought him to my tent and nursed
him round. He's right enough now, and I thought maybe, when you hear
his story, you'd help him on a bit.'
'What's your name, my boy?' asked the gentleman.
'Jack Wilson, please, sir,' answered the boy promptly.
'Well, Jack, you must tell me all about yourself when I come back. I'm
going to look at the sheep with Pedro now, and I'll have a talk
by-and-by.'
So saying, Mr. Stuart went away towards the corral, leaving Jack in
great excitement. He liked the look of this fine young Englishman, who
smiled so pleasantly at him, and he felt hopeful he would help him.
While the men inspected the sheep, Jack made himself useful by carrying
all the small things out of the waggon into Pedro's hut, where the
provisions were stored. He had to leave the large sacks of flour, as
they were too heavy for him to lift by himself.
[Illustration: 'JACK MADE HIMSELF USEFUL.']
When the men returned and Mr. Stuart saw how busy Jack had been, he
said, 'Well done, my boy! I like to see a lad make himself of use of
his own free will. It shows he likes to work, without being told. And
now I want to know how you came to take up your abode with my
sheep-herder?'
Encouraged by the kind interest Mr. Stuart showed in him, Jack told his
story in a simple way, from the time he first started out from
Longview, to where he had been so opportunely found by Pedro and Senor.
Mr. Stuart was greatly surprised, as he listened and learned how far
the boy had already travelled.
'Do you really mean to tell me,' he asked, 'that you started out alone,
with strangers, to try and reach your parents living at a place nearly
three hundred miles away? I'm astonished that you have got as far as
this. Indeed, I can hardly believe it;' and he looked searchingly at
Jack.
'It's the truth, sir, all the same,' said the boy quietly, but there
was a hurt expression on his open face which convinced the Englishman
more than anything else of his honesty.
'Well,' he said kindly, 'I shall trust you, anyhow. At first it seemed
impossible to me that a little lad, not ten years old, would dare to
venture on along, perilous journey alone; but your straightforward
answers have satisfied me, and I will gladly give you all the
assistance I can. I'll take you back with me to my ranch; but I'm
afraid you must give up the idea of crossing the mountains until next
spring, as it is so dangerous at this time of year--very few people
care to attempt it.'
Jack's face flushed with pleasure as he thanked the Englishman, and,
although he could not but feel sorry at the thought of saying good-bye
to Pedro and Senor, yet it was satisfactory to make a fresh start
towards home, after the long delay.
He made his little collection of curiosities into a small parcel, and
soon had all ready. It was quite touching to see the parting between
the boy and his two friends. Over and over again Jack thanked the
Mexican for his kindness to him, and a few tears fell on Senor's rough
head.
'We'll remember you for many a long day,' said Pedro, 'and don't you
forget Senor and me.'
'I'll come and see you again, when I'm bigger,' said little Jack, half
crying. 'Good-bye, Pedro; good-bye, Senor.' And the waggon rolled
slowly away.
'Adios!' cried poor Pedro huskily, and turned away with a tear in his
eye. He had got so fond of his bright little visitor, and for the
first time he felt really lonely in his tent, as he sat down to his
supper the evening after Jack's departure. For some days he kept
looking around at times, half expecting to see the well-known little
figure playing about. Senor, too, seemed very disconsolate, and
wandered about uneasily, coming from time to time to look up in Pedro's
face in an inquiring way, as if to ask--'Where is he gone to? I can't
find him.'
It was a long drive to the ranch, but Mr. Stuart was very kind in
talking to Jack, and he enjoyed himself very much. It was a nice
change to be borne so fast over the prairie, and when his new friend
let him take the reins for a short time, he was exceedingly pleased.
Once he saw a flock of big birds a short distance off, feasting on the
carcase of a dead beast. He got very excited, and exclaimed: 'Look
there, sir! Ain't them eagles?'
'No, no, Jack!' replied Mr. Stuart. 'Those are not eagles; they are
buzzards, or prairie scavengers, and are more like vultures than
eagles. They are nasty creatures, but so useful in carrying away and
devouring all carrion, that the State authorities won't allow them to
be shot.'
The birds rose slowly in a great cloud as the waggon approached. There
were about thirty of them, and they had picked nearly every particle of
flesh off the animal's bones, which already looked white.
'The buzzards do their work quickly,' remarked Mr. Stuart. 'That beast
had not long died when I passed it this morning.'
But after a while Jack got very tired and drowsy, and by the time they
reached the door of the ranch-house, he was lying fast asleep at the
bottom of the waggon, rolled up in rugs.
As the horses stopped at the door, Mrs. Stuart came out to welcome her
husband, and the bright blaze of light that streamed from the house
looked pleasant in truth to the cold and hungry man after his long
drive.
'I'm glad to see you back safely,' said his wife. 'How did you find
Pedro and the sheep?'
'In grand form,' he answered; 'and look here, in the waggon! I've got
a surprise for you and the children.'
Mrs. Stuart looked at the bundle curled up and asked, 'What have you
got there, Tom?'
'A little English boy, who'll take your heart by storm when you hear
his story. He's quite tired out, so I'll just carry him quietly in and
not disturb him.'
As he spoke he lifted the sleeping boy in his arms, and carrying him
into a nice warm room, laid him on a sofa near a stove, where a fire
was crackling merrily. Mrs. Stuart brought a soft blanket, and covered
him gently, and as he did not stir, they wisely decided to leave him to
finish out his sleep.
[Illustration: 'CARRYING HIM INTO A NICE WARM ROOM.']
The tired horses were looked after by one of the ranch hands, and Mr.
Stuart sat down to his supper. While he was eating it, he told his
wife Jack's story. It at once roused her sympathy, and she said,
'Brave little fellow! What miles he has come, to be sure! We must do
all we can to help him on to his people.'
'Yes; but I don't see any chance of his crossing the mountains until
next spring,' returned Mr. Stuart. 'It's very late now, and no one is
likely to come past here who would go over the divide at this time.'
'That's true,' agreed Mrs. Stuart, 'so we must do our best to make him
happy, and keep him here during the winter months.'
'I only hope he'll find his mother alive, if he does get to their
ranch,' remarked the Englishman dubiously. 'From what he told me, she
must have been very ill when she left Longview, and I should be afraid
the shock of his supposed death might have killed her.'
'Oh, Tom! How dreadful!' exclaimed his wife, quite distressed. 'I
can't bear to think of such a sad thing. I am sure the little fellow's
heart would break with grief.'
'Well! We will sincerely hope for the best, dear,' said her husband,
'and trust he will find her strong and well. She ought to be proud of
her son, for it's a plucky thing for such a child to attempt a journey
like this.'
'Come and look at him,' said the lady, rising and leading the way into
the other room, while her husband followed her.
'Poor little Jack!' she said softly, 'and poor mother! How thankful
she will be to see him again, after such a long separation! Fancy,
Tom, if it had been our own little laddie!'
Her heart went out to the sleeping boy, and bending down, she kissed
him lightly on the forehead. Jack stirred uneasily in his sleep and
muttered, 'Mother.'
The word brought tears to Mrs. Stuart's eyes as she turned again to her
husband, saying, 'Do you hear that, Tom? His thoughts are with her by
day, and he dreams of her at night. It is most touching.'
'He is certainly a devoted little chap to his mother,' said Mr. Stuart.
'I wonder what the children will think of him?'
'They will be delighted to have a playfellow, and I expect they will
never tire of listening to his adventures. We must leave him now till
to-morrow;' and with another tuck in of the blanket round the boy, they
left him still undisturbed for the night.