A FRANTIC HERD
The next morning at breakfast, Henry West told his mother that he was
going to meet James Fletcher and six of his cowboys, over at the ferry,
as they came with a bunch of steers from the range about the Big Arm.
Then they would drive them South to Selish, where they were to be
loaded and shipped to a large stock ranch in Wyoming, to a man whose
winter loss had been great.
Bess became at once deeply interested in the affair, and asked if she
might go over to the ferry with him to witness the feat of swimming the
bunch across the Pend d’Oreille.
“I am going to have half a dozen Indians take cattle across the river,
and the boys will cross on the ferry with their horses so that they
will be in shape to continue with the drive. Otherwise they would all
be delayed by getting into dry clothing,” explained West. “Yes, you and
Mother both come. It will be quite a novel sight, for you, at least,
Bess.”
The girl was delighted and hastened to help straighten up the house,
so that Mrs. West might go also. She stopped a moment in her task, as
she watched West get into his riding togs. The heavily fringed leathern
chapps, the belt, with its cartridges and gun, the spurs and quirt
were all quickly and deftly adjusted by the experienced hand.
“Let me tie that for you,” suggested Bess, as Henry fumbled with his
white silk ’kerchief, trying to fasten it about his throat without
removing his gloves which he had already drawn on his hands. She tucked
the dish-towel which she had been using under her arm, and standing on
her tip-toes, tied the handkerchief about his neck.
As her soft, dainty fingers touched his throat he closed his eyes to
shut out the sight of the sweet girl so near him lest they reveal the
exquisite pain which thrilled his whole being. He gripped his hands
together behind him, fearing, in spite of himself, they would snatch
her to him and crush her in an embrace. Through his closed teeth he
said, “Hurry, Bess,” for fear he should yet lose control of himself;
and once the floodgates of his passion be opened, there would be no
pause till he had poured out all the longings and hopes and desires of
his very soul. He knew the girl was entirely ignorant and unsuspicious
of his love for her, and he did not dare frighten her by a confession,
for fear the consequences might deprive him of even the comfort of
being near her and seeing and hearing her.
“Oh,” said Bess, as she gave him a saucy tap on the cheek, “can’t you
stand still a moment! Now see, you have undone it. Really, you are more
impatient to start than Mauchacho usually is.”
“Give it a half-hitch, Bess, and call it fixed,” said West, as he
backed away from the girl to free himself from her delicious touch.
Snatching his sombrero and starting for the door, he continued: “You
and Mother be at the ferry within an hour. One of the men will saddle
your horses for you. Good-bye.” Then hastily returning, as if he had
forgotten an important item he called: “Oh say, Bess! How about your
gun practice? Are you improving any?”
“Do you know, Henry, that the last time I tried, I only had to hold one
eye shut, and once I nearly hit the mark!”
“Nearly—how nearly?” laughed West. “Remember, when you can shoot with
both eyes open and hit the bull’s-eye three times in succession,
then—then you are to have the 38 Smith and Wesson, you know.”
With that he was gone to the gate, touched his foot in the stirrup,
sprang with the agility of a cat into the saddle and started off
quickly. Just then, however, Bess noticed that he had dropped his
handkerchief, and saw the rider swing his horse quickly about, drop low
over the side of the saddle, snatch the handkerchief from the ground,
resume his position in the saddle and gallop on as though it were no
feat at all. She cried out in her astonishment, so that Mrs. West
came hurriedly in to learn the cause of her alarm. When Bess told her
what she had just witnessed, Mrs. West smiled, and explained that at
the July celebration she would have an opportunity to see some really
wonderful feats in riding.
“Henry told me just now that I must hurry to win the new gun he
promised me,” said Bess, as she and Mrs. West hurried about, finishing
the breakfast work. “Do you know,” continued the girl, “it seems to me
I would be very conspicuous with a gun stuck into my belt. James and
Henry both agree that if I insist upon going about alone with my horse,
that I must have a gun.”
“Yes, dear, one cannot tell what unexpected danger might arise. A
drunken Indian, or an infuriated steer, or even a rattlesnake may
molest one, and the boys are wise in insisting,” answered Mrs. West.
At first, when Henry West brought out the 22 rifle to give Bess her
first lesson, she ran behind a tree and thrust her fingers in her ears.
After a little she would pull the trigger with both eyes shut tight,
if he would hold the gun. At length she submitted to having it placed
against her shoulder and to holding it unassisted.
“Oh, Bess! Don’t be such a baby,” said her brother to her one day, as
she was trying to overcome her aversion to shooting the 22. Instantly
her eyes _looked daggers_ at the boys; snatching the gun, she thrust
it up against her shoulder, pulled the trigger and banged away! When
she opened her eyes she saw James peering from behind one tree and
Henry from another. Both were smiling at her impetuosity, but James
then and there told her that the first essential was to handle a weapon
carefully.
“That is all right!! But don’t you call me a baby again! I’ll beat you
shooting yet! See if I don’t!” flung back the girl.
During the next week, while the boys were at Selish with the shipment
of steers, Bess practiced with the little rifle at every opportunity,
and her progress was marked indeed.
“Mauchacho is feeling gay this morning, Bess,” said Mrs. West, as she
and the girl mounted and started for the ferry at Polson. The dainty
horse shook his head and side-stepped first one way and then the other.
He seemed to know and feel that he carried a graceful rider, and was
doing these little extra steps to add to the charming picture.
Bess’ lithe body swung to each new antic, and the ruddy glow of health
on her cheeks told how keen was the enjoyment.
“My! how dearly I love to feel a horse under me!” she cried as she
leaned forward to smooth a strand in the horse’s mane. “It seems to me
that I shall hate ever having to go on wheels again.”
Mrs. West rode like one thoroughly accustomed to the saddle, erect and
well poised, with her right arm clinging down by her side, and the
reins held firmly up in the left. She, too, rode astride, and her eyes
were bright with as keen an enjoyment as the happy girl’s by her side.
“It does put new life into one, dear, to be on a horse,” responded
the older woman. “I have not had a ride for ever so long, and this is
surely a delight.”
Just as they reached Polson they could see on the opposite shore of
the river several cowboys and half a dozen Indians driving some fifty
or sixty head of cattle. The water in the lake was still very high,—in
fact it had risen two feet since the day before, and now came pouring
into the river, its outlet, with terrific speed. The roar of the falls
about a half-mile below the ferry was distinctly heard, and told of the
immense volume of water which was pouring and bounding over the huge
rocks and precipice.
Henry West was watching with a troubled face the foaming stream and the
reluctant herd on the opposite side. Bess saw her brother signal the
cowboys to cross on the waiting ferry, and then instruct the Indians at
which point to swim the cattle and their ponies across. The water was
icy cold, and with greatest effort and urging were the steers forced
into the stream. Such shouts, and yelling, and riding and driving!
Finally the last steer was driven into the water as some of the others
were already nearly half-way across. The Indians had flung off their
blankets, and with wild and weird shouts, plunged their horses into the
water. The snorts of the reluctant animals mingled with the song that
went up from the bucks. How the cattle fought against the current which
bore them down stream! How the ponies worked, with their burdens now
swimming alongside and clinging to their manes! How the Indians shouted
now to the horses, now to the cattle, and again to each other! A laugh,
almost hideous in its bravado, rent the air, and again the song of
courage could be heard above all the confusion.
Bess was wild with excitement. She was relieved to see James on the
ferry crossing with the cowboys and their horses. She looked for Henry
West and discovered him far down on the bank at about the place where
the herd would come out. He paced up and down with anxiety, and the
girl could feel his care. The first of the cattle had already gained
the land, and another—another. Look! there was one which seemed to be
losing wind and was being borne downward by the current. Instantly
the animal was seen by an Indian, who, in his effort to head off the
course, loosened his grip on his pony’s mane and snatched frantically
for the floating tail. He grasped it, but not firmly enough, and soon
was swimming alone.
“Come straight ahead,” called West to the now dazed Indian. The
rest, with their ponies and the steers, were clambering up the steep
incline of the bank and were entirely oblivious to the danger of
their companion, their bodies, all dripping, gleaming like burnished
copper in the dazzling sunshine. Springing upon their ponies they rode
hurriedly to the approaching ferry, to wrap their naked bodies in the
blankets which Fletcher was bringing across. Only West was conscious
of the peril of the one Indian, except those on the ferry who had seen
the struggle, and Bess, who had ridden Mauchacho down to where West was
standing. He kept urging and exhorting the swimmer, who was constantly
gaining and nearing the shore. Bess noticed that West had removed his
chapps and coat, as if preparing to go to the assistance of the man in
the water.
“If it were not so icy cold he’d make it all right,” said West, unaware
of the girl dismounting near him. In the next instant he had jerked
off his boots, flung his sombrero at Bess’ feet and plunged into the
foaming water some thirty feet further down the stream than where the
Indian was.
“Don’t,” shrieked Bess, but all too late, for he was already swimming
with long measured strokes toward the now exhausted man. Oh! would he
reach the spot in time? Could he force his strength against the current
and save the Indian from being carried onto the Falls and dashed to
pieces on the rocks? Bess held her breath as she watched.
Like a flash she saw his arm shoot out and firmly catch the Indian by
one of his long braids! Now he was turning, now swimming back with his
burden! By this time the excited men reached the spot and watched the
rescue.
“You bet—West’ll fetch him!” “Sure—he’s great in the water!” “Here
they are now!” “Keep’er up, old boy, you’re coming!” Bess heard on all
sides. James stood near, white-faced and trembling, lest at the last
moment West’s almost Herculean strength might desert him. Now he would
surely make it! Together James and Bess stretched forth their hands
as if to help West through the last few feet of water. When his feet
touched the earth and he struggled with his now unconscious burden, he
gasped,
“I’m all right. See to the other man!”
Bess looked at Henry’s drawn and anxious face, and tears rushed into
her eyes.
“Never mind, little girl, it’s over now,” he said softly, touched by
her solicitude; and instantly flung all his savagery at the cowboy who
ventured:
“You’re a damn fool, West, to risk your life for just an old Indian!”
“He—he is my brother!” retorted West, with eyes that might have killed
with their intense fire.
Bess hastened away to seek Mrs. West, and was relieved to find that she
had not known of the danger her son had been in.
“Get the bunch started, James,” said West, “and I’ll join you where we
take up the rest of the herd.”
It was evening on the following day, when the weary herd, urged by the
still wearier men and horses, came to the foot of the hill near the
shipping place. The dust raised by the hoofs of two hundred steers was
suffocating, and the cowboys congratulated themselves that plenty of
water and “grub” were in sight.
The drive had been without incident or accident, and West was silently
commending the good judgment of his foreman. By constant shouting,
urging and driving the steers gained the summit of the hill and began
to descend. West saw a long freight train standing on the tracks ready
to start, and he became filled with trepidation for fear the wild
creatures would become frightened, and serious consequences might
follow.
They reached the flat near the corrals. West breathed a sigh of relief
when suddenly the engine gave two long, shrill whistles! The hills
caught the sound and hurled it back and forth again and again, as if
the very fiends of the mountains were exultant at the terror of the
dumb beasts! With a snort every head and tail went up; all seemed
possessed with the instinct of flight from some dreadful danger.
Wheeling, they plunged up the steep hillside. Every man knew instantly
what to do. Three sent their spurs into the tired horses and urged
them up the hill to head off the bellowing, frenzied herd. The horses
intuitively knew that there was trouble, and were filled with new
vim. With red nostrils and wet flanks, out of breath they gained the
position and successfully turned the terrified animals again down
the hill. On they rushed, snorting, bellowing, plunging, completely
enveloped in a cloud of dust. West and Fletcher rode on to head them
off, and now saw, as the dust subsided a little, that the wild things
had begun already to go ‘round and round.’ If they should now get to
milling, doubtless many of them would be crushed to death!
Fletcher, seeing an opening, made a desperate attempt to take it, but
his wise pony wheeled, but not quickly enough to evade the scratch
of a sharp horn. West, with a merciless dig of the spur that caused
the blood to spurt from the horse’s side, made it leap clear off the
ground and come down on four stiffened legs in the only open space
among the steers. Practiced rider tho’ he was, he bounded high in
the air, losing his hat and nearly losing the saddle. With swinging
lariats, with hoarse shouts, with shots and yells, at last the circling
herd were checked and slowly began to fall into line and through the
openings into the corrals. When the last steer was safely behind the
strong enclosure of the stockyards, West turned to his foreman with a
face that showed desperate determination through the grime of dust and
perspiration.
“You better go with the boys and get ready for supper. I have a little
matter of business to attend to first.” Turning to the others, lifting
his bare head high, and with a look of approval in his flashing eyes,
he said, “Boys, you have proven yourselves equal to any occasion! I’m
proud of each one of you!”
He waited till the cheers and waving hats of the cowboys had subsided,
waited till he saw them lead the horses, with now drooping heads, to
shelter and food, waited for James to follow the others, and then rode
his horse over to the station platform. Riding up on the platform he
rapped on the window with the loaded end of his quirt, and motioned to
the man inside to come out. In a low, tense voice he asked: “Where’s
the shipping agent?”
“I’m your man,” came from a large bunch of corduroys.
“I’m the shipper of that bunch of cattle in the yards. Perhaps you saw
our averted catastrophe. Instruct your engineers hereafter to avoid
whistles when wild steers are being driven.”
The corduroy man replied: “That engineer’s resignation has already
been telegraphed to headquarters. A man with no better sense than he
displayed is incapable of holding a job on this division.”
After a few more remarks incidental to the loading and shipping next
morning, West turned his horse in quest of his sombrero. As he wheeled
he came face to face with Fletcher, whose curiosity prompted him to
follow West. For a moment neither spoke, and then James blurted out,
“Well, I’ll be d—d, West; you always know just what to do and what’s
more, do it!”
As they neared the spot where their serious trouble with the cattle
occurred, a faint sound of distress reached West’s acute ear. Searching
behind a huge pile of rock and brush, he discovered one of the best
steers with its front legs broken. In the flash of an instant he had
pulled his gun and the true and sure aim ended the dumb brute’s misery.
All he remarked was, “Another feast for some hungry ‘Injun,’” and
hurried to join the other men at supper.