LEFT HANDED BRANDING IRONS
The following morning Harmon dispatched Milk River Bill to town with
a four-horse-team to haul back the supplies for the round-up. An
hour later he rode away in search of riders, after issuing orders
that set all hands busy overhauling tents, wagons, harness, cook
outfit, branding irons, and rope corral; and putting all in shape for
the round-up that would take them from the ranch for fifty or sixty
days.
Connie took an active interest in everything from the setting of a
wagon tire to the overhauling of harness and it was not until late in
the afternoon that he found himself alone with Tex.
"Harmon is wondering whether I'm going to ride the round-up," he
said, "But I didn't tell him. I wanted to have a talk with you
first. Do you think it would spoil our chance of catching him if I
went along?"
"On the start it won't make no difference one way or the other. He
won't try any monkey business till the wagons are way down behind the
Little Rockys, which is the furthest end of the range we work, an'
likewise the clostest to the Mizoo. His ranch is over on Shonkin,
an' he ferries or flat boats the calves acrost. It's accordin' to
how things frames up. One of us has got to be there to keep cases on
him so we'll know when to spring our party. I've got a hunch that if
you want to ride the round-up I'll be the one that's elected to stick
on the ranch an' nurse them hospitals. I seen last evenin' when he
found us two together that he figured he'd made a mistake. You see,
he ain't got me guessed. He don't like me a-tall. He ain't restin'
easy as long as I'm with the outfit, an' yet he don't dare to fire me
because he don't know how much I know. He don't like me because he
don't savvy me--an' I don't like him because I do--an' there you are.
I reckon he'll try to keep us two apart as much as he can anyway till
after he gets them calves branded, or else gets rid of me.
"The way it looks from here the best bet would be for you an' me not
to pay no attention to one another. You tell him you'll ride the
round-up, an' chances are he'll leave me here at the ranch. Then
along at the tail end of the round-up, he an' Alex, an' Milk River,
an' Kid will haul out for a couple of days, pertendin' they're goin'
to work some creek, an' send the wagons on with a straw boss.
They'll be gone a couple of days an' then they'll come back. What
you got to do is to stay with the wagons till they get back an' then
kind of let on that you're tired of the round-up, er get sick, or
somethin' an' hit for the ranch. Then's when we get busy. Meanwhile
I'll get holt of McLaughlin, he's the Sheriff, an' Dave Hall, the
stock inspector, an' kind of let on that they better be ready to come
on the jump when they hear from me. They can get here in a day, an'
the next night there'll be somethin' doin' somewheres down in the
sage brush."
"But, won't they have time to make away with the calves before we can
get back there?" asked the boy.
"No, this here sage brush work is particular business, an' has got to
be worked just so. It takes about a week or ten days to work it, an'
if everything goes accordin' to Hoyle, it's the safest cattle
rustlin' scheme that's be'n invented. What we got to do is to kind
of slip a gravel under their saddle an' upset the dope. When we get
through with 'em they'll have a chance to say: 'Good Mornin', Judge,'
down to Benton. An' the judge, he'll pick 'em out anywheres from two
to twenty years apiece--with most judges favorin' the twenty."
"I don't see how they work it," said Connie. "If he puts his brand
on the calves anyone could see that they were following Round Seven
cows, and if he waits till the Round Seven brand is on them, how does
he get it off?"
"They's a lot of tricks these rustlers is onto. There's three
schemes that's used more than others. First, there's the hair
artists. They don't use any irons at all. They work with horses,
mostly, where they can trail the stuff out of the country and get rid
of it quick. All they do is to clip the hair around the brand so it
leaves ridges that look just like a brand mark. These ridges connect
onto the regular brand and make it look like another brand
altogether. Take your own brand for instance," Tex stopped and
traced the Round Seven Bar in the dust. [Round Seven Bar] "There she
is, now some hair artist comes along an' dobs his rope onto a calf or
a colt an' throws an' hog ties 'em an' goes to work. Suppose he
leaves a ridge of hair shaped like another Round Seven Bar, reversed,
on the right hand side of that brand, with the two bars connected
like this: [Flyin' H brand] Now when the critter gets up, he ain't a
Round Seven critter no more--he's a Flyin' H, plain as day. Of
course when the hair grows out he's a Round Seven critter again, but
by that time he's be'n trailed clean out of the country, an' sold,
an' the hair artist is maybe five hundred miles away doctorin' brands
on some other range. That's one way.
"Another way is to alter the brand with runnin' irons. There's two
kinds of runnin' irons. One is simply a straight piece of iron that
the rustler heats the end of an' traces out a brand, or changes one
that's already on, like you would handle a pencil. The other kind is
really two irons, a short bar, and a quarter circle. You can make
any brand there is with a short bar and a quarter circle, an' of
course you can change any brand there is. The runnin' iron work
makes a permanent brand, so whatever changin' is done has got to be
made into some brand that's recorded. Bob Harmon he don't favor
neither one of these ways. He works the short iron game. Come over
to the blacksmith shop a minute, an' I'll show you somethin'. Guess
there ain't no one nosin' around. I happened to stumble onto the
place where Bob keeps his private short irons cached."
In the blacksmith shop Tex removed a small pile of odds and ends of
scrap iron, and lifting a short length of floor planking, reached
beneath the floor and drew out a couple of curiously shaped irons.
Handing one to Connie he asked: "What do you call them?"
"They're Round Seven branding irons!" exclaimed the boy.
"Yeh, they're Round Seven, all right--but, do you see anything funny
about them?"
The boy studied the iron. "Why, it's turned the wrong way!"
"Yup--left handed brandin' iron, all right," grinned the cowboy.
"But, how does he work it? Is his brand the Round Seven Bar turned
the other way?"
"No. If it was he couldn't work your brand none. Bob Harmon's Brand
is the Heart Bar. It goes on the left side, same as yours. It looks
like this:" [Heart Bar brand] Connie stared at the brand that the
cowboy traced on the floor. "Do you get the idea?" asked Tex.
Connie shook his head. "Well, accordin' to the arithmetic, two times
seven is fourteen. But that there is just common sevens, an' not
Round Sevens with a Bar through 'em. If you add two of them
together, one way you get a Flyin' H, like I showed you. An' added
the other way, you get a Heart Bar. Take this here reversed Round
Seven Bar, [Reversed Round Seven] an' _your_ Round Seven Bar, an'
shove 'em together, an' you get the Heart Bar, an' that's Bob's
brand. The way he works it, he's pretty safe. He waits till the
wagons get way down back of the Little Rockys where there ain't no
ranches to bother, an' after they get a bunch of calves branded with
your brand, Bob an' Alex, an' Milk River, an' Kid Owens, they slip
away from the outfit an' round-up anywhere from twenty-five to a
hundred head of cows an' fresh branded calves, an' drive 'em to a
sage brush corral he's got hid down there somewheres. They run the
calves into the corral, an' leave the cows outside. His man that
looks after his outfit is there waitin' an' he camps there right
handy. Bob an' the boys go back to the wagons for a week or ten
days. Meanwhile this other bird stays right there an' watches that
corral from some pinnacle where he can see a good swipe of country.
The cows are circlin' around the fence tryin' to get to the calves,
an' they're bawlin' their heads off. Inside the fence the calves are
tryin' to get out an' they're bawlin' as loud as the cows. As long
as no riders get within earshot everything is lovely. In about a
week or ten days the cows give it up, an' go away. All this time
this lookout has be'n feedin' the calves, an' by the time the cows
pull out they're weaned. Then Harmon an' his gang come back, an'
they slap his reversed iron on the calves, makin' a Heart Bar out of
your Round Seven Bar, an' then they drive them to the river an' ferry
'em across."
"But, suppose someone would happen along and hear the cows and calves
bawling, and decide to investigate?" asked the boy.
"They wouldn't find out nothin'. The lookout would see 'em comin'
from his perch, an' would beat it down an' open the corral gate.
When the investigatin' party got there, all he'd find would be a
bunch of Round Seven cows with Round Seven calves follerin' 'em, all
regular an' proper."
"But, suppose someone should run across them driving the calves to
the river?" persisted the boy. "Wouldn't it look kind of funny to
see a lot of young calves with one-half of their brand new, and the
other half old?"
"It ain't likely they would meet up with anyone way down there,"
answered the cowboy. "Specially as this corral is right close to the
river. But he plays pretty safe by slappin' on his brand before the
Round Seven brand has had time to heal up. If anyone did come Harmon
would scatter the calves in the sage an' round 'em up later. He's
got it worked out pretty slick, all right--but, he's about played his
string out. This year he'll prob'ly brand up a big bunch, 'cause he
figures on quittin' this fall, an' he'll want to make a clean-up."