EZRA, THE LIFE-SAVING GOAT.
Ted had engaged several sections on the through sleeping car to North
Platte, Nebraska, the old home of Colonel William Cody, known all over
the world as "Buffalo Bill."
But they were to leave the train at Green River, ostensibly to buy
cattle for their ranch. This, of course, was to avert suspicion from
their real purpose of hunting down the express robbers.
For Mrs. Graham and Stella the stateroom of the car _Orizaba_ had been
engaged, and the boys made it a sort of ceremonial chamber.
The car was well filled with other passengers, many of them tourists on
the way to Colorado or the Pacific coast, and they were much amused at
the free-and-easy spirit with which the boys conducted themselves, and
when it became generally known that they were the broncho boys, with Ted
Strong at their head, they received a great deal of attention, which was
not particularly to Ted's liking.
As usual, wherever they were, Bud Morgan, Ben Tremont, and Carl Schwartz
provided a fund of amusement for everybody.
Little Dick Fosdick had never known such happiness as he was now
experiencing. He worshiped Stella, admired Ted, and looked upon Bud as
the greatest pal a boy ever had.
He and Bud were inseparable, and Bud never tired of telling him yarns
about cow-punching and Indian fighting, while the boy proved a
breathless listener, hanging upon every word that fell from the
yellow-haired cowboy's lips.
He knew by heart many of the adventures through which Ted Strong had
passed, and often surprised Ted by correcting some inaccuracy which,
through a lapse of memory, Ted had made.
They were sailing across Missouri toward the West, and the boy kept his
face glued to the window, watching for the first glimpse of the golden
West of his fancy. Just at present he saw only farms and little towns,
through which the fast train whizzed without stopping.
The boy knew this sort of country well, and was rather disappointed that
the boundless prairie did not roll before him from horizon to horizon.
Then he turned his attention to the luxury of the car, but being a
healthy boy, this did not impress him long, and he turned to his heroes
for relief.
Bud was sitting comfortably sprawled out on two seats, singing softly to
himself. Bud could not sing a little bit, but he thought he could, which
served his purpose personally quite as well as if he could.
Ben was in the seat behind him, reading. After a while Bud's music, or
the lack of it, got on Ben's nerves, and he reached over and poked Bud
on top of his golden head with the corner of his book.
"Say," said he, "put on the soft pedal, won't you? Perhaps you can sing,
and maybe some one told you you could, but take it from me you have no
more voice or musical ability than a he-goat."
"Oh, mercy!" retorted Bud. "Does my music annoy you?"
"It certainly does," snapped Ben.
"Then why don't yer move away?"
"Bah! You're an old goat."
"Thanks fer ther compliment, although yer don't mean it thet away. But
when yer likens me ter a goat yer do me proud. If yer were more goatlike
yerself ye'd be a heap more wiser."
"I'm glad you like it. The pleasure's all yours. But if a fellow called
me a goat, I know what I'd do."
"Maybe, perhaps. But yer needn't be afraid that any one will liken yer
ter a goat. Any self-respectin' goat would get sore at it. If I wuz ter
pick out yer counterpart in ther animile world, I'd say yer most
resembled the phillaloo?"
"What's a phillaloo?"
"A phillaloo is a cross between a penguin and a jassack."
"Say, you long-haired lobster!" cried Ben, leaping to his feet,
apparently in great anger, "don't you call me anything like that."
"Well, didn't yer jest call me a goat?"
"Yes, but--"
"Then sit down an' git back ter yer love story; we're square. Nothin' is
lost on both sides. But callin' me a goat don't make me sore none. I
jest dote on goats. If I wasn't jest what I am, I'd sooner be a goat
than a collidge gradooate."
"I've heard about enough, if you're alluding to me."
"Take it er leave it. But, ez I wuz goin' ter say before my conversation
was cut inter by a loud an' empty noise, speakin' o' goats reminds me o'
a time down on ther Pecos--"
"By Jove! I'm going to ask the conductor to move me into another car.
This is too much. I might, perhaps, stand for being called a phillaloo,
but I swear I'll not be compelled to stay here and listen to one of
those silly and impossible stories of this insane cow-puncher."
At first some of the passengers thought that Bud and Ben were really
angry at one another, but the wise ones soon saw that it was all bluff,
as, of course, the broncho boys knew.
But it was very real to Dick Fosdick, who had yet many things to learn
about the boys and their ways, and while the little chap was far too
clever naturally to show his feelings, he sided with Bud, and thought
that Ben was very unreasonable, especially as the boys, and some of the
passengers, had flocked around Bud, who appeared not to notice them.
"I reckon, Dick, you'd like ter hear thet thar story erbout the time I
lied down on ther Pecos in the summer o'--"
"Conductor," said Ben, detaining that official as he was passing through
the car, "is there no way of stopping the noise this person is making? I
cannot take my nap on account of his chatter."
Several persons who were not in the secret were for interfering in
behalf of Bud and his story, which they wanted to hear, but were headed
off by the conductor, who said:
"Sorry, but I cannot interfere with the gentleman. He does not seem to
be annoying the other passengers. If you wish to take a nap you are at
liberty to go up ahead in the smoking car."
At this Bud began to gloat.
"I hear they've put a cattle car up next ter ther injine fer sech
sensitive people like you. Yer might enj'y a leetle siesta on ther
straw."
Ben sank back into his seat, and began to snore gently.
"What about the story down on the Pecos, Bud?" said Dick.
"You'd like to hear it, eh? Then I'll tell it to you. Of course, the
other folks may listen to it, but it is understood betwixt me an' you
thet it's all yours, an' whatever goes inter their ears is jest ther
leavin's. Is that a go?"
The boy nodded eagerly, even though he didn't understand the drift of
Bud's remarks.
"What's the story about?" asked the boy.
"The goat, my boy. Perhaps you don't know it, but the goat is one of
the noblest animals what walks. He is also one o' ther smartest, an' in
former years used ter be able ter talk, but ez soon ez he got ter be so
popular in secret societies ther gift o' speech was withdrawed from him,
so thet he wouldn't be able ter give erway ther secret things what he
saw an' heard at ther meetin's."
"But, Bud, are they really smart?" asked Dick.
"Smart ain't no name fer it. All yer got ter do to find out if they're
smart is ter look at their whiskers. The smartest o' all animiles is
man, an' don't he wear whiskers? An' I want ter ast yer what other
animile hez whiskers exceptin' ther goat. Ther goat knew what he was
about when he begin ter raise whiskers. He says ter hisself--"
"What bosh!" exclaimed Ben, snorting in his sleep.
"Aire you addressin' yer remarks ter me?" asked Bud, looking over the
back of the seat at Bud. But the only answer was a gentle snore.
"What did he say?" asked Dick eagerly.
"'Why,' says he, 'if they won't let me talk they can't keep me from
bein' ez near a man ez I kin go; by gravy, I'll raise whiskers like
Deacon Smith,' who was a member o' ther lodge in which ther goat
officiated; and, by jinks, he did, an' ther fashion wuz follered, an'
they wear them ter this day.
"There ain't no question o' their smartness, an' their prominence. Ain't
one o' ther signs o' the zodiac up in ther heavens named after ther
goat--Capricornus is ther feller ter what I refer--an' them heathen
chaps what wuz half man an' half goat? Didn't they come pretty near
bein' ther whole thing?"
"But about the Pecos?" inquired Dick, who was not partial to preaching,
but wanted to get at the heart of the story.
"Oh. yes. I wuz leadin' up ter it gradooal, fer what I'm goin' ter
relate--if thet yap will choke off on thet moosical snore--"
"Here, wake up, you're snoring so loud we can't hear ourselves holler,"
said Kit, reaching over and shaking Ben.
"I can't keep awake while that fellow persists in yarning away like a
fanning machine. It's so monotonous I can't keep awake," and Ben
stretched and yawned.
"Let's get away from here and go to some other part of the car,"
whispered Dick.
"No, we'll just stay here an' spite him. He'll wake up after a while an'
be glad to listen to ther story. So here goes!
"I was punchin' cow's down on the Pecos one summer fer ther Crazy B
Ranch. We had eight punchers in ther bunch, a good chuck wagon, an' easy
work, so I wuz pretty well suited, an' thet summer I gained twelve
pounds, even if it wuz a hundred an' forty in ther shade, which we hed
forgotten ter bring along with us."
"Forgotten to bring what?" asked the boy.
"Our shade. Yer see, down in thet country ther sun is so strong thet
every one carries his own shade, fer there isn't a tree in ther whole
country big enough ter cast a shadder o' any sort. Out on ther ranches,
at certain seasons o' ther year, they serve out shade ter ther men jest
ther same ez they do bacon an' saleratus ter ther outfit thet goes out
herdin'."
Dick looked seriously at Bud for a moment, hardly knowing whether or not
to doubt him, but Bud's face was as grave as a deacon's.
"I don't understand it, I'm sure," he said. "But where do they get the
shade to give to the men?"
"That's easy enough. It's always gathered on dark nights, generally late
in ther fall er in ther winter, so thet it'll be real cool."
"But where do they get it?"
"What--ther shade? Why, they just go out an' gather it off the ground in
thin shapes, kinder longer than broad. It can be rolled up just like a
blanket, an' carried behind ther saddle. It's gathered in ther cold
months. Ye've heard o' ther 'cool shade.' Well, that's why they gather
it late in the year. Summer shade is no good, because it's too warm."
"But what is it like?"
"Oh, it's black, an' I hear they strip it off close ter ther ground. We
don't get no shade like it in this part o' ther country. Ther only place
what hez it is ther West, whar it's needed most."
"But how about the Pecos?"
"Sho! I almost fergot it, didn't I, while teachin' yer something erbout
ther way they do things in Arizony an' her sister-in-law, Noo Mexico?
Now I'm off, shore.
"Ping-pong Martin wuz in ther outfit thet year. Mebbe yer knows him?"
Bud looked at the small boy inquiringly, much to his embarrassment.
"No, sir, I never heard of him before."
"Well, no matter, but this Ping-pong cuss, he had a personal friend, a
goat, what couldn't no more be shook than a sore thumb, and had follered
Ping off ter ther wars, so to speak.
"Ping run off from home on ther quiet ter join our outfit, leavin' ther
goat to home, locked up in ther barn. Ping thought he hed ther goat
faded, but one day, when we wuz half asleep in our saddles, a feller
over on ther other side come a-runnin' in.
"'What's ther matter?' sez I.
"Thar's a funny animile over here. He shore is ther devil, fer he wears
horns, an' hez a face exactly like thet o' ole man Pillsbury. I ain't
bettin' none it ain't him. But if it is Pillsbury, he better not go
home lookin' like thet 'thout lettin' his wife know first.'
"Ping an' me rode over ter ther other side, an' thar stood a goat,
lookin' so nice an' socierble.
"'Great hevings!' shouted Ping, makin' a rush fer ther goat, 'thet's my
goat Ezra, ain't you?'"
"Did the goat understand him?"
"Did he understand him? Well, I should whisper sweetly. Why, thet goat
jest jumped all over Ping, a-runnin' his whiskers inter his eyes, an'
laughin', he wuz so glad ter see him. He'd traced Ping plumb ercross
ther desert ter get ter us, an', o' course, we couldn't sic him home
after that.
"We all got ter love Ezra fer his lovely ways; that is, all except
'Boney Bill' Henderson."
"Why? Didn't the goat like him?"
"Well, it wuz this way: Boney Bill had a habit o' beggin' ther grease
from ther fryin' pan every night ter ile his boots. This made 'em good
an' strong, ez well ez easy ter chew on. One night, Ezra bein' fond o'
boots, finds 'em an' chews ther tops off'n 'em. They wuz ther only boots
Bill hed, an' we wuz two hundred mile ter another pair, so Bill hed ter
go through ther season barefoot, an' ther sun jest nacherly warped his
feet out o' all shape.
"But thet wuzn't what I wuz goin' ter tell yer erbout. That fall ther
Utes went on ther warpath, an' wuz headin' our way, an' I want ter tell
yer we wuz some scared. We hed several brushes with ther Injuns, an'
ther courier we sent ter ther fort fer help wuz killed an' scalped.
"Thar we wuz, in a little valley entirely surrounded by Injuns thirstin'
fer our gore. How long we could hold out agin' 'em wuz ther problem. But
whenever one o' 'em showed his head we took a pop at it, an' they
returned ther compliment. We wuz prayin' fer ther comin' o' ther
soldiers, which wuz ther only thing what could save us from a horrible
death.
"Ther Injuns got next ter ther fact thet our ammunition wuz runnin'
short, an' they wuz gittin' some gay; sorter takin' advantage o' us in a
way. I could see thet they wuz gettin' ready ter make a rush down inter
ther valley an' massacree us all, an' we prepared ter sell our lives
dearly.
"One mornin' we missed Ezra, ther goat. I'll never fergit ther misery on
ther face o' Ping-pong when he finds it out.
"'Bud,' he says ter me, 'I'm goin' out ter find Ezra, an' if them Injuns
hez got him, I'm goin' ter bust ther whole tribe wide open.'
"I tried ter persuade him not ter go, but he will, so I goes with him.
We sneaks up ther side o' ther hill, an' looks over ther ridge right
down inter ther Injun village. The sight what met our gaze almost, but
not quite, made me bust open with laughin'.
"Ther Injuns wuz all down on their hands an' knees, bowin' ter Ezra, who
wuz walkin' eround on his hind legs, sashayin' sideways an' noddin' his
head jest like a live bock-beer sign. Yer see, ther Injuns hed never
seen a goat before, an' when Ezra walks onto them, waggin' his whiskers
in a wise sort o' way, they thinks he's some kind o' a god, er somethin'
like that. But when he got up on his hind legs an' begin ter sashay thet
settled it. They wuz shore o' it then.
"We watched ther performance fer a while, then ther Injuns got up an'
begin ter mosey. In an hour thar wuzn't a Injun within twenty mile. They
jest hit ther high places fer home.
"Thet wuz ther way Ezra saved our party. After thet he could hev et
every boot in ther outfit, an' thar wouldn't hev been a kick."
"What became of him?" asked Kit.
"Oh, he went back home with Ping an' raised a large family, an' they
wuz talkin' o' runnin' him fer ther legislature an account o' his
whiskers an' his smartness."
"He was a smart goat, wasn't he?" said Dick.
"You bet. Thet's why I said that some goats wuz jest ez smart ez lots o'
collidge gradooates what I hev met."