THE STOLEN CATTLE.
Arthur Gordon built his homestead on the Assiniboian prairie, mostly
of slender birch-logs and sods, because he was too wise to waste what
money he had left on sawn timber. He also built a sod stable and
barn; and being clever enough to realise how little he knew, which
some men as well as boys are not, hired a grim old Scotchman, Peter
Mackenzie, to advise and help him. Meantime he bought two big
working oxen, a few cattle, a team of horses, a heavy breaker-plough
to rip up the matted sod, harrows, a light waggon, and a seeder to
sow the grain, besides a binder which would both cut and tie the
sheaves. Then finding he had very little money left, he at once
proceeded to plough for his first crop, while Charley always
remembered the day they drove the first furrow.
There was a straggling wood of slender birches behind them, a clear
blue sky above, and on every other side a great white waste of grass
dotted by sloos, or lakes of melted snow, which would dry up in
summer. Still, a breadth of yellow stubble ran across it where
another man had raised a crop. They slept in the barn because the
house was not finished yet, and Charley, whose clothes now showed
more than signs of wear, was lighting fires with a bundle of old
newspapers among the stubble. The warm wind caught them, and with a
loud crackling a red blaze raced across one part of it, while he ran
to and fro lighting those which had gone out again, until he was
sooty all over. Next he led his brother's oxen, tapping them with a
stick, while Arthur laughed when the heavy breaker-plough which tore
a long furrow through the snow-bleached sod zig-zagged awkwardly, or
the oxen stopped dead as its share struck some soil still frozen
beneath the surface. Afterwards, old Peter let him have the lines,
and clutching the handles of the lighter plough he turned up the
mould where the stubble had been; and so with an hour's rest at
noonday, when he had to wade deep into a sloo after the oxen, the
work went on until the stars were blinking down upon the prairie. At
first Charley lost his patience with the slow moving beasts,
especially when they ran into water too deep for him and would not
come out, while he wet himself all over trying to make them.
It was the same every day. They rose at five in the morning, worked
hard, lived plainly, until at last both ploughing and sowing were
done, and, leaving the grain to the care of the kindly earth, they
resumed the house-building. Meantime a tender flush of green crept
across the prairie, the silver birches in the bluff put out their
whispering leaves, and it grew hotter day by day. The mosquitoes
came down in millions, and bit them until sometimes their faces were
so swollen that they could hardly see; little gophers like squirrels
scurried among the tender grain; while the coyotes, which are the
wolves of the grassland, howled on moonlit nights along the edge of
the prairie. Then there was hay to cut for winter, and Charley drove
the tinkling mower through the long grass of the sloos, and rode home
under the moon on a waggon piled high with dry white trusses which
smelt of peppermint. Also he grew strong of limb and cheerful, and
learned it was not beneath him to clean out either the stable or
chicken-house, and that it was better to have sometimes very dirty
hands than keep them clean by idleness, though the sharp-tongued
Peter saw he had little chance of this. Sometimes he grew angry with
Peter.
Then it happened that one day, when the tall wheat grew yellow
towards the harvest, Arthur sent him to count their half-wild cattle
which wandered at will across the prairie. He rode out in the early
morning with a Marlin rifle slung across his shoulders, feeling proud
of himself, but though he swept the prairie until noon there was no
sign of the beasts. It grew blazing hot, he was tired and thirsty,
but he still rode on until he discovered by the trampled grasses and
dints of hoofs that not only had a drove of cattle passed that way,
but that several horsemen accompanied them. Then he patted the
bronco's neck and turned back for home, swinging through a dust cloud
across the long levels which had grown white again, and towards dusk
dropped stiffly from the lathered horse, while, when grimed with dust
and perspiration he told his story, old Peter said, "Ay; I was partly
expectin' this. The Rustlers have lifted our beasts for us."
Now a little time earlier a very bad state of things existed across
the American border, where the rich owners of many head of stock--the
Cattle Barons they were called--tried to drive the poor men off their
small plots of land. In return, the poor men burnt the others'
homesteads, and shot some of the greediest, while afterwards very
cruel deeds were done by either side, until when there was peace at
last, bands of desperate men who had lost everything wandered about
the country, robbing where they could, and it was some of these Peter
meant when he said the Rustlers.
So when Charley added, "I think they must have taken Caryll's beasts
as well!" Arthur, whose face grew stern, said sharply, "If they once
get them across the border it means ruin, for the money I hope to get
for those cattle must keep us through the winter. Get into the
saddle; we'll ride over to Caryll's. I'll borrow another horse, and
meet you, Peter."
Slinging his rifle he mounted the bronco barebacked, and while little
Reggie watched them enviously they rode out at full gallop under the
starlight with the dust whirling up behind them, Charley's horse
stumbling now and then. It was five miles to Caryll's homestead, and
they found him sitting on the doorstep, a big, good-humoured Ontario
man, who said gravely, "If they've lit out with my cattle they might
have taken the farm as well. Well, it's a long way to the American
border, and we might come up with them; cattle travel slow. I should
say somebody will get hurt if we do."
"Mayn't I come?" asked Charley, and while Arthur hesitated, Caryll,
who noticed the longing in the boy's eyes, laughed, as he said,
"Bring him along. If you're raising him to the prairie he may as
well see the rough side of it; and if you want to teach a dog to hold
fast, you must begin when he's a pup. I'm a peaceful man myself if
other folks will let me--but I don't lie down while they put on big
boots to tramp on me."
Caryll found fresh horses, and brought a young Blackfoot Indian
called Coyote too, while after meeting Peter they pressed on fast
until Charley showed them the trail of the cattle. After that he
rode like one in a dream, almost falling asleep in the saddle; while
at last, when the red sun leapt up, and Caryll said they must rest,
dropping, aching all over, from the horse, he fell asleep in earnest.
It was in the heat of afternoon he awoke, and Arthur said that Coyote
reported the stolen cattle were not very far ahead, and when night
came they hoped to recover them. "You see, if they once crossed the
border while we went collecting help, the beasts would be corned beef
in Chicago before we took up the trail again," said Caryll. "So
we're going quietly to steal them back again. There are six thieving
Rustlers with them, big, bad, hard men, but I figure somehow we'll
come out ahead of them."
Starting once more they rode circuitously, following the hollows
between each higher roll of grass, while Coyote the Indian went
scouting before them until long after the stars were out. Then
leaving the horses tethered behind them, they crept on hands and
knees towards the edge of a ravine which wound steeply through the
edge of a plateau, and Charley never forgot what he saw, when, at a
whisper from Caryll they lay still among the grass. A few willows
clothed the sides of the declivity, and a herd of long-horned cattle
moved restlessly below, while a fire blazed redly among a clump of
dew-damped bushes. Tethered horses stood beside it, and lower down
white mist filled a deeper hollow. Beyond this, where the steep
sides fell away, a dim stretch of grass faded into the distance, and
the stars were pale overhead.
"Can't do nothin' by force," said Caryll. "They're armed, every man,
an' watchin' too. So we'll wait 'til they get sleepy, and then
stampede the herd on them. Guess I'm a peaceful person and don't
want a rifle bullet in me if I can help it. It's not nice when it
goes in, and it hurts worse to get it out."
After that, there was silence, and Charley, lying flat on his chest,
could feel his heart beating as he breathed the scent of wild
peppermint and the smell of hot earth drinking in the dew. The
cattle were uneasy, and at times surged to and fro, bellowing, a
dusky mass of tossing horns, with white vapour rising from it, while
now and then a black shape rose up from the shadows and growled at
them. Once, too, Charley nearly cried out when with the red light on
him he saw a big bearded man, who balanced a rifle, staring up at the
head of the ravine; then remembering that, if only because of the
firelight, the man could not see those who watched him. Meantime
Coyote was very busy tying together bunches of dry grass, or crawling
snake-like into the ravine; after which there was a fresh disturbance
among the cattle, and Caryll said they were mad with thirst and it
would not take much to stampede or start them racing across the
prairie in mad panic.
Slowly the glimmer of firelight died, and at last Caryll whispered it
was time to commence, for the beasts were moving towards them. So
Coyote was sent for the horses, and Arthur said, "Keep in the rear,
Charley, and take care of yourself. You are growing a big lad now,
and it's only fitting you should learn the rough work as well as the
smooth, but I would sooner lose the farm and everything on it than
that any injury should happen to you."
"I will be careful," said Charley, for his brother's voice trembled;
then Coyote came up with the horses, while hardly had he mounted than
a hoarse voice cried out below,
"Who's there? Stand fast before we plug a bullet into you."
But it was too late, for a dark figure rose up among the cattle with
a bunch of blazing grasses in its hand, Caryll charged into the
ravine waving another, and Arthur fired his repeating rifle into the
air. This was sufficient, for the cattle were untamed creatures
which ran wild about the prairie three parts of every year, and
lowering its head one burnt and frightened steer bolted furiously
down the ravine. The others followed it, and next moment the narrow
hollow was filled with a thunder of hoofs, while, scarcely hearing
the rifle bullet that hummed above his head, Charley swayed in his
saddle as his half-broken bronco swept down the slope at a flying
gallop. Coyote was yelling like a whole pack of wolves on the other
flank of the herd, scattering blazing grass among them; Caryll roared
himself hoarse close beside; and riding just clear of the beasts
ahead, Arthur Gordon's soldierly figure rushed through the darkness.
The ground sloped steeply, the beasts were madly afraid, and in that
condition there is nothing that can turn a stampeding herd.
Dwarf willows rose up before the excited lad, and there was a great
crackle of branches as the horse broke through, while some of them
lashed him like a whip. Tangled tussocks of tall grass ripped apart
and were whirled up by the battering hoofs, and Charley knew that he
would probably break his neck or leg if the beast blundered into a
badger hole. Still, he drove his heels against the horse's lathered
flanks, for the sight below and the touch of the cool night wind that
screamed past him set his blood bounding. He had once longed to be a
soldier, but this was as exhilarating as galloping the guns into
action or a charge of cavalry.
Where all the Rustlers went to he never knew, though staring ahead
through the whirled-up dust, he fancied he saw one human figure
running for life before the sea of tossing heads and horns; then with
a smashing of bushes the herd charged through the camp, and he could
dimly see riderless horses that had broken their tethers galloping
among them. Caryll and Coyote had laid their plans well, for the
thieves had no time to mount before the cattle were upon them. Next
Charley felt a sudden cold sickness as the running figure
disappeared, and he wondered if the herd had charged straight over
the fallen man. But he forgot it in the exultation that followed the
mad, headlong rush, until an object which might have been a man, came
blundering as though to cut him off, down one side of the ravine.
Instinctively he bent low over his horse's mane, and it was well he
did so, for there was a red flash before him and the ringing of a
rifle. Then, remembering he had no time to unsling his own weapon,
and that the other man's was probably a repeater, he struck the horse
with his heels and drove him straight at his enemy. There was no
choice left him but to defend himself or be shot, and all these
thieves could shoot well, so, though Charley set his teeth together
and determined to do the former, he was conscious of a painful cold
sinking under his belt. There was a heavy thud, and a shock; and he
lurched backwards in the saddle. Something, or somebody rolled over
among the grasses; and he was flying on again, while Caryll's shout
rang in his ears, "A good beginning for the pup!"
They left the ravine behind at last; the herd ran straight out across
the dim prairie, and Caryll let them run, for he said, "The more
grass they put between themselves an' the Rustlers the better.
They're tough, bad men, an' they'll follow us presently when they
find their horses, though I guess it may take them all night to do
it. When you once start them broncos they don't know how to stop."
It was afternoon next day, and the herd could travel no further, when
dusty and aching they lay hidden among the willows which fringed
another ravine. Below, the cattle waded in the cool water of a creek
which wandered through the hollow, or lay contentedly among the lush
grasses, while on the farther side the prairie stretched towards the
horizon in a succession of swelling ridges. All the party were very
silent, for they knew the thieves were following their trail, while
Arthur's eyes grew anxious as he watched the shadows lengthen,
creeping, black and cool, across the dusty grass. They were safe
while daylight lasted, but the rifles would be useless in the dark,
and they had desperate men to deal with who were not afraid of
murder. Presently a tall man in a blue shirt, holding a heavy rifle,
rode out from behind a rise across the hollow, and looking about him
from under his broad ragged hat, drew near the ravine. He shouted
when he saw the cattle, and several more similar ruffians, also
mounted, appeared behind. Then, standing up in his stirrups with
reckless bravado, he called, "Come out from where you're skulking
like Jack rabbits in your lairs, an' we'll made a deal with you.
Give us up them cattle, an' we'll let you go. Try to hold them, an'
we'll most certainly make an end of every one of you. We're genuine
ontamed Rustlers, and don't you forget it! Crawlin' up like
sneak-thieves in the dark--I'm ashamed of you!"
[Illustration: "PRESENTLY A TALL MAN, HOLDING A HEAVY RIFLE, RODE
OUT."]
Arthur was rising from the bushes, when Caryll pulled him down.
"Guess he's been drinking somethin' stronger than creek water," he
said. "You don't know their little ways like I do, an' if you show
yourself, the rest might shoot you. I'm a peaceful man, if I can,
but losin' a horse may scare them. That's an easy mark, Peter."
"Go back," roared Arthur, "before we fire on you! If you want the
cattle come and take them," and quick as thought an answering bullet
hummed through the bushes, close above the speaker's head.
Meantime, old Peter stretched himself out full-length, with his left
elbow buried in the mould, and his legs crossed behind him, while his
eye ran down the blue rifle-barrel. "I'm no sayin' it's difficult,"
he answered. "One hunner yards, an' a clear light! Where will I
take him--the puir beast, I mean? I'm thinkin' it's a painful
necessity."
"Where you can," said Arthur, "only do it mercifully. As you say,
it's a painful necessity," and for a few moments Charley held his
breath, as, snapping down the rear-sight, Peter cuddled his cheek
against the stock of his rifle. Then the muzzle tilted, there was a
spitting of red flame, a ringing report, and man and horse went down
together. The man got up again, shaking his fist in the air, and ran
back after his comrades, while the beast lay still, and Peter said
grimly, "I'm sorry for the horse, but it will be a lesson to them."
After that, there was a very anxious waiting, for each of the
watchers knew their enemies would steal on them through the dark, and
Charley felt that anything would be better than this cruel suspense,
until suddenly, with a great beat of hoofs, the Rustlers swept out
straight as a crow flies across the prairie. "I might get one at
long range if I wasn't a peaceful man," said Caryll, longingly; but
Arthur Gordon broke in, "No; we had a right to defend our lives and
property, but they're in full flight now. Why, I don't know."
"I'm thinkin' it's time," said Peter, with a dry laugh. "The
North-West Police are after them. Where did ye put they glasses?
Oh, ay, ye can see the troopers' horses just topping the rise. I ken
the big sergeant on the black charger; it's my second cousin. Ride
ye, Donald--ride!"
The cattle thieves were evidently off in a very great hurry, for
Charley could see them driving home their spurred heels into their
horses' sides, or lashing them with the long hide bridles savagely.
They had good reason to be, for when they grew smaller far down on
the white levels, Gordon's party stood up and cheered, as a
detachment of mounted police raced by. They were very bold horsemen,
each one as well drilled as any cavalry soldier, and when, with a
great pounding of hoofs and jingle of steel, they dashed at headlong
gallop past the ravine, the leader on the big black charger waved a
hand to Peter. As Charley learned subsequently, the sergeant,
hearing of the Rustlers, had called at their homestead, and after
listening to Reggie's story, rode his hardest on their trail. Then
the police also vanished over the rim of the prairie and there was
silence again, for, leaving Coyote to watch, the rest sank into
well-earned slumber, and it was midnight before they started on their
homeward journey. It ended safely, and they learned presently that
two of the desperadoes who had lost their horses were caught, while
the rest got away.
A few weeks later the binders were driven through the crop, and
Arthur was glad when the harvest was over to find that, though frosts
had spoiled a little, his first year's yield of wheat and oats would
pay expenses. Charley rode with him beside the loaded waggons, piled
high with sacks of corn, one bitter day when the snow-dust was
already whirling across the prairie, thirty miles to the railway, and
both felt grateful when that evening they watched the long
freight-train lurch out across the white-sprinkled wilderness bearing
their, and others' grain to the markets in Winnipeg. The fruitful
earth now sinking into its winter sleep had repaid them for their
labour, and they could rest, too, while, because no man can work for
himself alone, they had helped to send the poor in England the cheap
food they badly needed. Next day, Arthur also made a journey by
passenger train, while, when Charley rode home alone he wondered if
his brother had gone to see their friend of the steamer, Miss
Armadale, who lived not very far away, and then wisely decided it was
no business of his if he had done so.