OCCUPATIONS OF A CRIPPLE
A few days after their return from Smith's Hole, Jack met with quite
a bad accident. Joe had driven the waggon around on to the mountain
to get a load of poles, and Hugh and Jack rode up by the short trail
to help him. While they were loading the waggon, Jack carelessly
dropped the end of a heavy pole on to his foot, and crushed it quite
badly. Hugh at once took off his shoe and stocking and examined the
foot, but did not find that any bones were broken. He bandaged it
with a couple of handkerchiefs, wet with cold water, and putting Jack
on his horse, they returned to the ranch. The ride down the mountain
side was very painful for the boy, but whenever they passed a brook,
Hugh bathed the foot in cold water, which somewhat relieved the pain.
When they reached the ranch Jack's foot was badly swollen, and he was
at once put to bed, where he stayed for two days. After that he was
allowed to sit up, with his foot resting on a chair, and the next two
days he spent chiefly in reading, though his uncle and the men often
came in and talked with him, giving him the news. Hugh made a crutch
for him, and on the fifth day he was allowed to hobble about with
that, but was warned not to put his foot to the ground, unless he
wanted to go to bed again.
It was pretty dull work doing nothing, for Jack greatly preferred
riding over the prairie to sitting on a chair in front of the ranch
door.
The first day that he used the crutch, Jack amused himself for a
time by calling his flock of tame wild ducks about him and feeding
them; but after a while, the ducks having had all the grain they
wanted, walked off in single file to the brush, and left him alone.
He thought of getting one of the men to bring the elk to him, but
this was such a stupid beast that he thought it would prove a poor
companion.
As the men were leaving the house after dinner, Jack called to Hugh
and said, "Hugh, can't you think of something for me to do? I'm
getting awful tired of staying right here in one place."
"Well," said Hugh, "I wish it was so you could get on your horse and
ride with me this afternoon. I'm going over into the pasture and then
down round by the lake. I'd like right well to stop here and talk
with you all the afternoon, but I can't do it. Them cows has got
to be looked after. You surely ought to have some one to keep you
company, though. I'll tell you what it is; I'll go down to the barn
and fetch up Pawnee, and picket him around here close to you. Maybe
he'd be sort of company for you."
"That's just the thing," said Jack; "I wish you'd do it. It's nearly
a week now since I've seen him."
Hugh went down to the barn, and after a little while returned,
leading the horse with Jack's rope about its neck. He drove a picket
pin into the sod, not far in front of the boy's chair, and fastened
the rope to it. Then he went into the house, and came out again with
a cup in which were a dozen lumps of sugar.
"Now, son," he said, "I've got a job for you that'll keep you busy
all the afternoon, and it's something that you'll like to do, and
something that may some day be right useful to you. You put in your
time this afternoon teaching this horse to come to you when you
whistle to him. You can't much more than make a start to-day, but if
you keep it up for a few days, you can make him so that he'll come to
you just as far as he can hear you whistle."
"That'll be splendid, Hugh, if I can only do it; but how can I teach
him? I remember reading a book once about a man who lived in Mexico,
and he had trained his horse just that way; and I remember that
whenever he had left his horse and was on foot, and his enemies got
after him, he'd whistle, and the horse would come dashing up, and
he'd jump into the saddle and ride away. You see, his was the fastest
horse in all that country, and they never could catch him."
"Well, now," said Hugh, "there's no reason why you shouldn't teach
yours to do just that same thing, and yours is just about the fastest
one in all this country; so you might be just like the fellow you
read about in the book. Now, after a while, when the horse is feeding
quite a little way from you, you whistle to him, and then pull on
his rope and make him come up to you and give him a lump of sugar.
Don't give him only one, and then let him wander off and pick grass
again, and the next time he gets pretty well toward the end of his
rope, whistle to him again, and draw in on the rope and bring him up
close to you and give him another lump of sugar. Do that half a dozen
times, not too close together, and the first thing you know you'll
see him start toward you just as soon as you whistle. Mind you always
whistle to him the same way. Are you a pretty good whistler? Can you
whistle loud?"
"No, I can't whistle very loud," said Jack. "I can whistle a little,
but I can't whistle real shrill."
"Well, hold on now; what will we do for a whistle? Seems to me your
uncle's got a dog whistle somewhere in the house, that he always used
with old Dan, that bird dog that he hunted with. I think I saw that
whistle this winter in the cigar box on top of the book shelves. Hold
on a minute."
Hugh went into the house and a few minutes later came out again with
the dog whistle and gave it to Jack. "Now," he said, "if you're going
to teach the horse to mind that whistle, you'll have to get your
uncle to give it to you, and carry it with you all the time. If he
gets to learn one sound he'll mind that and no other. Try him now,
before I start off."
Pawnee was busy eating grass, nearly at the full length of the rope,
when Jack gave a long shrill blast on his whistle, and, at the
unusual sound, the horse raised his head and looked about. Jack began
to gather in the rope, and Pawnee, following it, walked up to him and
stuck out his nose. Jack offered him a piece of the sugar, at which
he at first sniffed rather suspiciously, and then ate and seemed to
enjoy. He reached out his nose for more, but Jack threw down the rope
and turned away, and presently the horse walked back and began to eat
the grass again.
"That's all right," said Hugh, "you'll see that before night he'll
come quick when you blow that whistle. Well, so long; I must be
going;" and Hugh walked away to the corral to get his horse.
Jack sat there most of the afternoon, and from his chair trained his
horse, and it proved as Hugh had said, that before supper time Pawnee
knew that a blast on the whistle meant that he was to be offered a
lump of sugar, which he was always ready to take. Jack was perfectly
delighted with his success, and determined that he would keep up this
education of the horse until it had been so thoroughly trained that
it would seek him at the whistle wherever he might be. The interest
that he felt in this lightened up the next two or three days
wonderfully. Each day he hopped about on his crutch a little more
easily, and at last he was able to put his injured foot to the ground
without much pain. He worked with Pawnee down in the corral and out
on the flat in front of the house, and at last he took the rope off
the animal and turned it loose, letting it wander where it would, and
when he found that he could call the loose horse from a distance of
a quarter of a mile, and it came galloping or trotting toward him at
the sound of the whistle, he felt that he had really accomplished a
great feat.
Hugh congratulated him heartily on his success. "I had a horse once,"
he said, "that I trained to do this, and there was lots of times when
it was mighty handy to me. Most folks think that a horse is just a
fool and don't know nothing; but it ain't so. A horse, if you treat
it right, is a mighty knowledgeable critter, but most people don't
know enough to see what there is in one, and think you can't get
nothing out of it without you use a quirt, spurs, and maybe a club.
Of course it's a mighty nervous animal, and it's always been used
to being chased, and so it is scary, but there's lots of sense to a
horse if you take it right."
At length Jack's foot was well enough for him to ride; but his first
two or three rides were close about the ranch and on old Grey, which
could be trusted not to make any sudden movements, and so not to
oblige Jack to use his lame foot, which, however, was recovering
rapidly, the cold water treatment, which Hugh had insisted on giving
it having proved very effective.
During this period of his confinement, Jack had seen more of Shep,
the ranch dog, than he ever had before. This was a big yellow shaggy
shepherd dog, very affectionate and a very good watch dog, but rather
a foolish, puppy-like beast, that was not especially popular with
anyone. Hugh had said of him, "That dog there thinks he's a runner,
and he thinks he's a fighter too, and he ain't neither one nor the
other. He'll start off and chase an antelope or a jack rabbit, like
he thought he was going to catch it without any trouble, but the
things run off ahead of him, not a bit scared, and he just runs
himself down and comes back with his tongue hanging out a yard,
looking, and I expect feeling, like a fool. He ain't never caught
nothing yet, and I don't expect he ever will catch anything."
It was after dark one evening, when Jack and Hugh were sitting before
the ranch door, and Shep was lying at Hugh's feet, that they heard a
coyote howl right close to the house. The dog sprang to his feet and
rushed around the corner of the house to where the sound had come
from, and they could hear the patter of his feet as he raced down
toward the blacksmith's shop. Suddenly from the shop there came a
tumult of growling, yelling and worrying, a noise as if a lot of dogs
were fighting.
"By George!" said Hugh, "I believe that fool dog has ran into a nest
of coyotes." Hugh ran around the corner of the house, and toward the
sounds, which still continued, and Jack, grasping his crutch, half
ran, half hopped, after him. In a moment he heard Hugh shouting, the
noise of the fighting ceased, and as Jack reached the corner of the
blacksmith's shop, he met Hugh coming back with Shep running before
him.
"Well, now, what do you suppose I found when I got down there?" said
Hugh. "Just inside the garden fence was this dog and six or eight
coyotes on top of him, just everlastingly making the fur fly. It's
mighty lucky for him that he's got so much of this long yellow hair;
if he hadn't had, he'd have been eaten up before I got there. I
expect he's some cut up as it is." They took Shep into the kitchen,
and by the light of the lamp looked over him, and found that, as Hugh
had said, he was bitten and cut in a dozen places. None of the wounds
were very serious, but only his shaggy coat had protected him.
"Do you know," said Hugh, after they were again seated in the bright
moonlight, "I believe that was just a scheme of them coyotes to
kill this dog. You took notice, didn't you, how close that one that
howled was to us? I never saw a coyote come so close to the house
before. I believe he just came up here to tole Shep down behind the
blacksmith's shop, where his partners were waiting. It was a pretty
sharp trick now, wasn't it?"
A few days after this, Hugh and Mr. Sturgis looked at Jack's foot and
pronounced it well. It no longer pained him at all, but sometimes
he thought it felt a little stiff as he walked. He now resumed his
riding after the saddle horses and the milk cows, and besides this,
went out almost daily with Hugh or with his uncle on their excursions
in one direction or another, after horses and cattle.
One day, the cows that had been kept in the pasture were brought up
to the corrals, in order that the calves might be branded. They were
all put in one of the large corrals and then, one by one, the cows
were cut out and driven through a chute into another large corral,
leaving all the calves together; then the branding began. Fires were
built just outside the corral fence, and the branding irons put in
them to heat. Then, one by one the calves were roped, thrown and held
down until the hot iron had been put on them. It took a long time to
brand the hundred and four calves in this bunch, and by the time the
work had been finished all hands were hot, tired and covered with
dust. It was a relief to every one when the gates were opened and the
calves and their mothers allowed to come together again.
"I'll tell you what it is, son," said Hugh, "working cattle and
horses isn't all fun; there's a heap of hard work to it, and I
believe I'm getting pretty old to do work of that kind. Fact is, you
see, I wasn't raised to this sort of business. We didn't have no
cattle in this country till about ten or a dozen years ago. That's
the reason I always said I ain't no cowman and won't never be. A
man's got to be brung up to the business to do it well."