A RATTLESNAKE DIET.
Everything was now ready, and one morning four waggons started. The
[brand circle triangle] was one of the most northern of the ranches,
and the four outfits would therefore travel south, searching the whole
width of country as they went along. Those from the other ranches
would come up from the south, or in from the east, all moving towards
a general meeting-place. The range of country which served as common
pasturage to some eight or ten ranches was about two hundred miles
from north to south, and nearly as much from east to west. The eastern
portion of this great tract consisted of plain, sometimes flat and
level, but more often undulating. The western portion was broken up
into valleys and gorges by the spurs of the great ranges included under
the name of the Rocky Mountains.
The cattle of each ranche were as far as possible kept in that portion
of the territory nearest their own stations, but during the winter
they scattered to great distances in search of better grazing ground
or shelter. In the more northern ranges, when snow-storms with violent
wind swept down from the north-west, the cattle would drift before
it, always keeping their heads from the wind, and feeding as they
travelled. Sometimes great herds would thus travel hundreds of miles,
until brought up by some obstacle. At this time such things as fences
were absolutely unknown on the plains, and when, years after, they
came to a certain extent into use, they were, in the regions exposed
to snow-storms, causes of terrible disaster; for when a herd drifting
before a snow-storm came to one of them, it would be checked, and many
thousands of cattle would, when the snow cleared, be found frozen or
starved to death in a mass.
Two of the outfits of the [brand circle triangle] ranche were to
proceed due west, and then to search the ranges among the hills, while
the other two were to work the plains. Nos. 1 and 2 were chosen for
the former work, and were to keep within twenty or thirty miles of each
other, so as to be able to draw together for support should the Indians
prove troublesome. It was not until the afternoon that the cow-boys
mounted, and the men of each outfit, collecting their own horses
into a bunch, started for the spot where their waggon was to halt for
the night. It had brought up near a stream, and the cook had already
lighted his fires and put on his cooking pots when they arrived.
Each outfit consisted of ten cow-boys and a man who acted as
waggon-driver and cook. The duties of the cook of an outfit were by
no means a sinecure, as he had to prepare two meals a day, breakfast
and supper, at all times, and dinner for the men whose work allowed
them to ride in to it. He had to bake bread, to wash up pots, pans,
and dishes, and to cut wood for the fire. In the latter task he was
always assisted by the first arrivals at the camping place. The bread
was baked in iron pans. The dough was made of flour and water with a
mixture of saleratus, which took the place of yeast, and caused the
dough to rise. The pans were placed in the wood embers, a quantity of
which were piled upon the flat iron lid, so that the bread was baked
equally on all sides. Meat was cut into steaks and fried, those of the
men who preferred it cutting off chunks of the meat and grilling or
roasting them on sticks over the fire.
Once or twice a week there was duff or plum-pudding. The cook was up
long before daybreak preparing breakfast, and the men started as soon
as it was light. Directly the meal was over, plates, pots, and pans
were washed and packed in the waggon, the horses or mules harnessed,
and he started for the spot named as the evening camping ground, where
he had his fires lighted and the meal well on its way by the time the
cow-boys arrived. A good deal more meat than was required was cooked at
breakfast, and each man before he started on his day's work, cut off a
chunk of bread and meat for his mid-day meal.
Hugh had ridden Prince, who had been having a very easy time of it
for the last three weeks. The horse had for the first few days kept
somewhat apart, and had resented any advances on the part of the
strangers. He had now, however, fallen into their ways, and as soon as
the saddle was taken off he, like those ridden by the other cow-boys,
went off at a trot to join the bunch of horses a short distance out on
the plain.
"Well, Hugh, how do you think you shall like cattle work?" one of the
men, known as Long Tom, asked him, as they sat round the fire after
supper was over.
"So far I like it immensely," Hugh replied; "but, of course, I have
only seen the smooth side of it. I have not been on night cattle-guard
yet."
"Yes, that is the worse part of the work," the man said, "especially
when you are short-handed, for then there is only one relief. Of course
on a fine night, if the cattle are quiet, there is no hardship about
it; but on a dark night, when you cannot see your horse's ears, and the
wind is blowing and the rain coming down, and the cattle are restless,
it is no joke. I have been a sailor in my time, and I tell you that
keeping watch on a wild night at sea isn't a circumstance to it. You
know that if the cattle break, you have got to ride and head them off
somehow; and I tell you, when you cannot see your horse's ears, and are
going at a wild gallop, and know that if he puts his foot in a hole
there is no saying how far you may be chucked, and you have got the
herd thundering along beside you, you begin to feel that a cow-boy's
life is not all meat and molasses. There is one comfort, when you do
have to ride like that, you have no time to funk. Your blood just boils
up with excitement, and the one thing that you think of is to head the
herd."
"Shall we place a horse-guard to-night?"
"Yes, there is always a horse-guard when we are away from the
station. The horses are more inclined to wander at first than they
are afterwards, and ours are a pretty wild lot at present; but I don't
think we shall have trouble with them, for we have brought that white
jackass along, and the horses are sure to keep round him. There is
nothing like a jack for keeping horses quiet. They seem to know that he
has more sense than they have. As long as he takes things quietly there
is not much fear of their moving."
"Do you think a donkey has more sense than a horse?" Hugh asked in
surprise.
"Ever so much," the man replied; "and so have mules, haven't they,
mates?"
There was a general chorus of assent. "I had no idea of that," Hugh
said. "I should have thought that horses would look down upon a
donkey."
"That is where you are wrong," a cow-boy called Broncho Harry said.
"Trust to a jack to find out the best forage and the nearest water. He
would manage to pick up a living where a horse would starve. He doesn't
get scared and lose his head about nothing as a horse does. If there is
a noise, he just cocks one ear forward and makes up his mind what it is
about, and then goes on eating, while a horse fidgets and sweats, and
is ready to bolt from his own shadow; besides, the horses know that the
jack is their master."
"Why, you don't mean to say that a donkey can kick harder than a horse?"
"I don't say he can kick harder, though a mule can, and twice as quick;
but a jack does not fight that way, he fights with his teeth. I have
seen several fights between stallions and jacks, and the jack has
always got the best of it. I remember down at the Red Springs there
was a big black stallion with a bunch of mares came down the valley
where we camped, and he went at the horses and stampeded them all down
the valley. Well, we had a jack with us; he did not seem to pay much
attention to what was going on until the stallion came rushing at him,
thinking no doubt that he was going to knock his brains straight out
with a blow of his fore-foot, but the jack went at him with open mouth,
dodged a blow of his hoofs, and made a spring and caught him by the
neck. He held on like a bull-dog. The stallion reared and plunged, and
lifted the jack off his feet time after time, but each time he came
down with his legs stiff and well apart.
"The stallion struck at him with his fore-legs, and cut the skin off
his shoulders. Once or twice they fell, but the jack never let go his
hold, and he would have killed the stallion, sure, if it had not torn
itself away, leaving a big bit of skin and flesh in the jack's mouth.
The stallion went up the valley again like a flash, and the jack turned
off and went on grazing as if nothing had happened. Jacks don't have
a chance in towns; but give them a free hand out on the plains, and I
tell you they are just choke-full of sense. But it is getting dark, and
I am first on guard, so I must be off."
The other three men who had been told off for guard had each brought in
a horse and fastened the ends of their ropes to picket pins driven into
the ground, so that they could graze a little and yet be near at hand
when the time came to relieve the guard.
"How do you know when to wake?"
"It is habit," Broncho Harry said. "One gets to wake up just at the
right time, and if you ain't there within a quarter of an hour of the
time you ought to be, you are likely to hear of it. One of the guards
will ride in, and talk pretty straight to you, or like enough he will
drop his rope round your foot or arm, and give you a jerk that will
send you ten yards. When you have been woke up once or twice like that,
there ain't much fear of your over-sleeping yourself. Ah! there is
black Sam's accordion."
Black Sam was the cook, a merry good-tempered negro, and the outfit
which secured Sam with the waggon considered itself in luck. Cow-boys
are very fond of music, and Sam's accordion helped to while away the
evening. For the next two hours there was singing and choruses, and
then the men rolled themselves in their blankets with their feet to the
fire, and the camp was soon asleep.
The next morning at daybreak the cow-boys started in pairs; two of them
accompanied the waggon in charge of the spare horses, the rest went in
various directions to hunt up cattle.
Before nightfall they had collected fifty or sixty cattle, mostly in
bunches of threes and fours. At least a third of the number were calves
by their mother's side. Some of them were only captured after a long
chase, as they ran with a swiftness far beyond anything of which Hugh
could have supposed cattle to be capable.
The cows and steers were for the most part branded, but a few were
found without marks. These were, Hugh learned, called mavericks. They
were animals that had escaped search at the previous round-up, and it
was consequently impossible to tell to what herd they belonged. When
the day's work was done these were roped, thrown down, and branded
with the [brand circle triangle], and became the property of the ranche
whose cow-boys discovered them.
"There is many a man has become rich by branding mavericks," one of
the cow-boys said. "It was a regular business at one time. Of course no
one could tell whose cattle they were, and when a man had put his brand
on them he became the owner; but it was carried on so that the ranche
owners all came to an agreement, and any man caught branding cattle
with his own brand, except at the regular round-up, got shot. Of course
the calves belonged to one or other of the ranches round, and as each
ranche sends out a number of outfits to the round-up in proportion to
the numbers of its cattle, the present rule is fair enough."
When night fell the cattle were bunched down by the stream by which
the party had camped. Six of them were told off on night guard, while
three others, of whom Hugh was one, were to look after the horses. Hugh
was to take the first watch, and as soon as he had eaten his supper he
received his instructions from John Colley, the overseer of the outfit.
"You will have little enough to do," he said. "You have merely got
to keep near them, and you needn't even keep on your horse unless you
like. As long as they graze quietly leave them alone. If you see two or
three wandering away from the rest ride quickly and head them in."
Hugh mounted one of the quietest of his horses and rode out to the
bunch a few hundred yards from camp. At his whistle Prince at once
trotted out from the rest and came up to him and took from his hand the
piece of bread Hugh had put in his pocket for him.
"Go back to the others, Prince," he said with a wave of his hand; "your
business is to eat at present."
The horses were all quiet, and Hugh, when darkness had fairly fallen,
was struck with the quiet of the plain. Above, the stars shone through
the clear, dry air. Near him were the dark bunch of horses, and he was
surprised at the loudness of the sound of their cropping the grass,
broken only by that of an occasional stamp of a hoof. He could easily
hear the accordion and the singing away back at the camp. When this
ceased there came occasionally the crack of a breaking twig as the herd
of cattle forced their way through the bushes by the stream on his
left, and the songs of the cow-boys on watch as they rode in circles
around them. The time did not seem long, and he was quite surprised
when Bill Royce cantered up and told him his watch was over.
The next day's work was similar to the first, except that, soon after
starting, on ascending a slope they saw a small herd of deer some
eighty yards away. Before Hugh had time to think, Broncho Harry, who
was his companion, had drawn his revolver, and, as the deer bounded
off, fired. One of them leaped high in the air, ran fifty yards, and
then dropped, while the others made off at the top of their speed.
"That was a good shot," Hugh said. "I should hardly have thought of
firing at an object so far distant."
"Oh, these Colts carry a long way," the cow-boy said carelessly. "They
will carry four hundred yards, though you can't depend upon their
shooting much over a hundred. I have seen a man killed, though, at over
three hundred; but I look upon that as a chance shot. Up to a hundred a
man ain't much of a shot who cannot bring down a deer four times out of
five. I don't mean hitting. Of course you ought to hit him every time,
but hit him so as to stop him. I don't mean to say as the shot would
be sure if you were galloping over rough ground, but in a steady saddle
you ought not to miss."
On riding up to the deer Broncho Harry dismounted, lifted it on the
horse, and lashed it to the back of the saddle. "I am not particularly
partial to deer-meat," he said, "but it makes a change to beef."
"I own I prefer beef," Hugh said, "especially after living on venison,
as I have been doing, for the last three months."
"I consider bear-meat to be about as good as anything you get in these
parts," the cow-boy said. "I don't say as it isn't tough, but it has
got flavour. I don't want to put my teeth into anything better than
a good bear ham. If we have any luck we shall get some up among the
hills. Most things are eatable. I lived on rattlers once for a month at
a time. I tell you a rattler ain't bad eating."
"Are there many of them out on the plains?"
"A good many," the cow-boy said; "but you get them most among the
foot-hills. They like to lie on the rocks in the sun, and I have seen
them by dozens on a sunny ledge."
"Do many people get killed by them?"
"Bless you, no. The natives are afraid of them, 'cause, you see, they
often go barefoot; but they cannot bite through our thick boots. The
only danger is when you lie down, or something of that sort. They are
fond of warmth, and if you camp near where they are thick they will
crawl down to the fire, and sometimes get into your blanket."
"I suppose their bite is fatal if they do bite."
"Not once in fifty times if you take them right. I have known Mexicans
killed by them, but, then, a Mexican gives himself away directly and
makes no fight for it. Now if we are bitten we just whip out a knife
and cut the part out straight, clap a poultice of fresh dung on it, and
tie a string round tight above it. Of course, if you have got spirits
handy, you pour some in directly you cut it out, and drink as much as
you can; but then, you see, we don't often have spirits out here. I was
bit once. There." And he pointed to a scar on his right hand, between
the little finger and the wrist. "A rattler bit me just on the fleshy
part there. I blew his head off with my revolver, and then whipped out
my knife and cut the bit out. There wasn't any dung handy, and I had
no spirits, so I broke up a revolver cartridge and poured the powder
in, and clapped a match to it. It hurt a bit, of course, because it
was bleeding and the powder didn't all flash off at once; but I was all
right afterwards. My arm felt numbed for an hour or two, and there was
an end of it. Cattle and horses get bit sometimes on the head when they
are grazing, and it swells up to pretty well twice its proper size,
but they generally get over it in a day or two. No, there is no great
danger about rattlers, but if you are in the neighbourhood where they
are thick it is just as well to look round before you sit down."
"But how was it you came to live on rattle-snakes for a month?"
"Well, I was up north a bit. I had been looking after a bunch of cattle
that had gone up a cañon when I saw a party of Indians coming my way.
Lucky I saw them before they saw me, and you guess I was off the horse
pretty sharp. I turned his head up the cañon, and sent him galloping
on, and then I sheltered among the rocks. The Indians came up, no
doubt, to look for cattle. I heard them pass by and then come galloping
down again, and I knew they had happened upon my horse. They hunted
about that place for two days, but the soft rocks had fallen, and they
were piled thick along the foot of the cliffs on both sides, and you
may guess I had worked myself down pretty deep in among them.
"I was in too much of a hurry to think of the rattlers as I got in,
but I had noticed as I went up what a lot of them there were lying on
the rocks, and I thought a good deal about them as I was lying there.
Of course I had my knife and pistol with me, but the pistol was no
good, for a shot would have cost me my scalp, sure, and a knife ain't
the sort of weapon you would choose to use in a tussle with a rattler.
When night came I could have shifted, but I guessed I had got as good a
place as another, and I might have put my foot into a nest of rattlers
in the dark, so I lay there all night and all next day. I slept a
bit at night, but all day I kept awake and listened. I could hear the
Injuns going about and shoving their lances all about down the holes
among the rocks.
"Luckily, the place I had got into was just at the foot of the cliffs,
and you could not see that there was a hole unless you climbed up
there. Well, when night came again I guessed they would give up
searching, and take to watching. I got out and went a good bit higher
up the gorge. I was pretty nigh mad with thirst, and there weren't
no water, as I knew of, within well-nigh a hundred miles. I felt sure
the Injuns wouldn't come up the valley again, but would keep watch at
the mouth, for the hills went up both sides and there was no getting
out anywhere 'cept there. Soon as it got light I cut a stoutish stick,
tore off a strip of my sash, and tied my bowie to the end. Then I hid
up agin there, but so that I could see out a bit. About ten o'clock,
as there wur no signs of the Injuns, and the sun wur blazing down fit
to frizzle up one's brain, I guessed rattlers would be out. I had got
so bad with thirst by that time that I b'lieve, even if I had seen the
Injuns, I should have gone out. I had not long to search. I had not
gone five yards when I saw a rattler lying on a rock.
"There are two sorts of rattlers; there is the plain rattler and the
rock rattler. The rock ain't so big as the other, but he bites just
as bad. He saw me coming, but he did not trouble to move. He just
sounded his rattles, and lifted up his head as much as to say you
had best leave me alone. When I got near him he lifted his head a bit
higher, and swish went my stick, and his head flew off him. I picked
up the body and went back among the bushes, skinned it, cut it up into
chunks, and ate it just as it was. That was the first of them, and I
had three or four more before the day was over. That night and next
day I remained quiet, except to fill up my larder, and the next night
crawled down to the mouth of the valley; and just where it narrowed I
could hear Injuns talking. They hadn't lighted a fire; they knew better
than that. It would have been just throwing away their lives. So back
I went again, for I could not tell how many of the skunks were there.
I guessed, perhaps, they would come up the valley again the next day,
so I hid again in my old place; and it was lucky I did, for in the
afternoon I heard their horses' feet and knew there must have been a
dozen of them.
"That night I went down again. I could hear no voices, and I crawled
out and out until I was well on the plain, but they was gone. That wur
just what I had expected. They had got my water-skin with my horse,
and knew well enough that no one could have stood that four days'
heat in that valley without dying or going off his head, and as they
could see nothing of me they must have thought that I had got into
some hole and stuck there till I died. Their own water, too, must have
been running short, and they couldn't stay any longer; so off they had
gone. I wasn't much better off than I was before. They had driven the
cattle away, and as to starting to walk a hundred miles without water
the thing wur not to be thought of. I had found there was juice enough
in the rattlers to do me; besides, there wur plants growing about that
would help me a bit if I chewed the leaves, so I made up my mind that
there was nothing else to do but to stop.
"Some of my mates would be sure to get up a hunt for me when they found
that I didn't come back. I didn't care so much now that I could light
a fire, for I was getting pretty sick of raw rattler. I lit one next
morning right up at the head of the valley, choosing a place among the
rocks where I could pitch a stone over it and hide the ashes if the
Injuns should take it into their heads to pay me another visit. Every
morning I cooked enough rattlers for the day, and then took them down
and sat among some bushes high up at the mouth of the valley, so that
I could see if anyone was coming two or three miles away, for I hoped
that a deer, or a bear, or perhaps a head or two of cattle might come
up, but nary one did I see, though I stayed there a month.
"At the end of that time I saw four mounted figures far out on the
plain, and pretty soon made out as they was cow-boys. They was riding
towards the hills, and you bet I tracked out to meet them pretty slick.
They was four men of my own outfit. They had halted for three or four
days after I wur lost, and scoured the plains pretty considerable for
me. Then they wur obliged to go with the rest to drive the cattle into
the station, and as soon as they got there they started out again,
making up their minds that they wouldn't go back till they found
my body. They reckoned for sure that I had been scalped, and never
expected to do more for me than to bury me. They had been four days
riding along at the bottom of the foot-hills searching every valley.
They had a spare horse or two with them with water and grub. Yes, that
is how I came to live on rattlers for a month, and though I don't say
anything against them as food, and allow as they make a change to cow's
flesh, I have never been able to touch them since."
"That was a close shave," Hugh said. "I suppose people do get lost and
die on the plains sometimes."
"Lots of them; but not old hands, you know. A cow-boy gets to know
which way he is going without looking at a mark. At night he has
got the stars to guide him. But tender-feet often get lost; and when
they once lose their bearings there ain't much chance for them unless
someone happens to come along. They most all go out of their mind the
same day. They run a bit and then drop down, and then run another way
and drop again. I tell you there ain't a more awful sight than a man
who has been lost for a day or two, and you have got to look out sharp
if you come upon one of them, for he is as like as not to shoot you,
being altogether off his head, and taking you for an enemy.
"I once came across a chap who was off his head, but who hadn't got
weak. He drew his six-shooter when he saw me. It was a long way from
a station, and I had no time to fool about, and I didn't want to get
shot. He fired once, and the ball went pretty close, so I knew I might
chuck away my life by going near enough to rope him. So I fetched out
my pistol and took a shot at his ankle, and, of course, down he went.
As I expected, he let drop his pistol as he tumbled, and before he
could get it again I had ridden up and roped him. Then, of course, it
wur easy enough. I tied him tight first, poured a few drops of water
into his mouth, fastened him across the horse behind the saddle, and
rode with him into the camp. He wur laid up for nigh six weeks with his
ankle, but it saved his life.
"Hello!" he broke off, reining back his horse suddenly; "there is a
good bunch of cattle right up that dip ahead of us. We are on the wrong
side of them now, and if they was to catch sight of us we should have a
long ride before we came up to them. We must work round and come down
on them from the other side and head them this way, then we shall be
travelling in the right direction."
Hugh's eye, less accustomed to search the plains, had not caught the
cattle. "How far are they off?" he said.
"About a mile. You go round to the right and I'll go round to the left.
When you get to where you think you are behind them stop until you see
me; or, look here, you are new at this sort of thing, so we may as well
ride together until we get to your station, else we might miss each
other and lose a lot of time."
So saying he rode off at full speed, Hugh, who was on Prince,
following him. As they went Hugh congratulated himself that he had
not started by himself, for riding up and down the undulations, and
making a half-circle as they were doing, he very soon lost all idea of
direction. After ten minutes' riding the cow-boy reined in his horse.
"Now," he said, "they are in the next dip, just about over the line
of that bush. I will go a bit further round and come down on the
other side of them. You move on to that bush and wait until you see me
coming, and then ride forward. Keep on their flank. That dip lies just
about in the line of the camp, so keep them going that way."
Hugh rode until he approached the bush Harry had pointed out, and
then sat quiet until he saw the cow-boy approaching from the opposite
direction. The latter threw up his arm and Hugh moved forward. A few
strides of the horse took him to the brow, and there, below him, some
forty or fifty cattle were grazing. Broncho Harry was already dashing
down the opposite slope. For a moment the cattle stood with heads up
and snorts of alarm, and then, as the cow-boy uttered a wild yell,
dashed off down the hollow. A little behind them, one on each side,
rode the two cow-boys, and for three miles there was no change in their
relative position. Then the speed of the cattle began to abate, but
they kept on at a run for another two miles, and then settled gradually
into a walk. An hour later the camp was reached.
"There is no occasion to watch them," Broncho Harry said as they
arrived within a quarter of a mile of the waggon. "They will go on
to the stream and have a drink, and then lie down in the shade of the
bushes, or else mix up with the other cattle down somewhere there. They
have done enough running for to-day."
"Back early, Harry?" the cow-boy who had remained behind to look after
the horses said.
"Yes, we have been in luck--got a goodish bunch. Hello, Sam!"
"Hello, Broncho Harry!" the negro replied, putting his head out of the
waggon.
"Got any hot water, because we want tea?"
"Not got now, but make him quick. Plenty of fire in the ashes. Not
expect anyone back to dinner, only just twelve o'clock."
"Well, here we are, Sam, anyhow. Hand me out a frying-pan; a hot dinner
is better than a cold lunch any day. I have brought you in a stag,
Sam."
"Dat's good, Broncho, deer's meat better than cow meat."
"Not a bit of it, Sam. It does for a change; but you cannot go on
eating it every day as you can beef, unless you have got to, and then
one can eat anything."
"Are we going out again after dinner, Harry?" Hugh asked, as they
watched the beef frying over the embers of the great fire.
"No, sirree, we have done our day's work. We have brought in our bunch,
and a good bunch it is. It is just luck that we came on them early,
and are back early. If it had been the other way we might not have got
back until after dark; maybe we mightn't have got back until to-morrow.
After we have done our meal we will go and see if the cattle have
settled down quiet, and if they have joined the rest. If they have, we
will have a bathe in the stream and then wash our shirts. It will be a
good opportunity. One don't get many chances of washing on a round-up."
The cattle were found to have joined those brought in the day before,
and the cow-boys' programme was carried out.
"You ought to practise with that six-shooter of yours, Hugh; a cow-boy
ain't thought much of if he can't shoot straight. Look at that tin on
the low bough there. That has been there ever since we were here a year
ago. I mind that someone stuck it up for a tender-foot to shoot at;
now, you see me knock it off. Jehoshaphat!" he exclaimed, when, as he
put his hand on the butt of his pistol, a sharp crack sounded beside
him, and the tin fell to the ground. A laugh from Hugh accompanied the
shot.
"How in thunder did you do that?"
"The usual way, I suppose," Hugh said. "I drew my pistol, and pulled
the trigger."
The cow-boy looked him over from head to foot. "I tell you what, Hugh,
you are a fraud. You come here as a tender-foot, and you can sit on a
bucking broncho, you've a good notion of throwing a rope, and you can
shoot like lightning. Where did you get it all?"
"I have simply practised," Hugh said, smiling at the other's gravity
of manner. "I made up my mind to take to ranching some months ago, and
I practised with the pistol and rope before I started, and, as I told
you, I have been three months hunting."
"It don't seem nateral," the cow-boy said doubtfully. "I don't say
the shot was out of the way, for it wur an easy mark enough at twenty
yards, but it wur the spryness of the shooting that fetched me."
"That is what I have been specially practising, Broncho. I was told
that the great thing was to be able to draw quick."
"Well, let us see a little more of your shooting." He walked to the
tree and picked up the tin. Hugh put in a fresh cartridge in place of
that he had just fired. "Now I will throw this up, and you fire at
it in the air." Bill Royce had told Hugh that this was a favourite
mark of the cow-boys, and not having any tins out on the plains he
had thrown up sods or the head of a stag for Hugh to fire at. Harry
took his place about five yards from Hugh. "Now," he said. Hugh waited
until the tin reached the highest point and then fired. It flew upward
again; the other five shots were fired in quick succession, and then
the tin fell to the ground. It was a feat frequently accomplished
among the cow-boys, and Broncho Harry was himself perfectly capable
of accomplishing it, but he was not the less surprised at seeing it
performed by a new-comer to the plains.
"Well, you can shoot. Now let us see you draw; your pistol's empty,
so there ain't no fear of an accident. Just put it in your belt again.
Now stand facing me. We will draw together. Keep your hand down by your
side till I say, now; then draw, cock, and pull your trigger. Stop! I
will take my cartridges out, there ain't no use in taking risks, and in
a hurry my trigger might go off too. Now, I am ready--now!"
Broncho Harry rather prided himself on the quickness with which he
could draw, but his pistol was not out of his belt when the hammer of
Hugh's fell, the lad having fired from his hip.
"Waal, I swar!" he exclaimed. "Why, how in thunder did you do it? I
wur looking at your hand, and a'most before I saw it move there was
the thing pinting at me. Why, I am reckoned pretty slick, and I ain't a
spot upon you. Do it again, lad." Hugh repeated the action. "Waal, that
beats me; I can't see how you do it. Your hand goes up to your hip,
thar's a twinkle, and thar's the pistol cocked and the hammer falling
at once; it's like conjuring! Just do it slow." Hugh showed that as
his hand fell on the pistol his thumb rested on the hammer and his
forefinger on the trigger, while the others closed on the butt, drew
the pistol from the belt, and threw the barrel forward.
"It is just practice," he said. "I have been at it for the last six
months."
"Waal, young fellow," Broncho Harry said solemnly, "I have been out on
the plains for ten years, and I have seen pretty considerable shooting,
but I never saw anything that was a circumstance to that. You are all
right. You can get into a muss with the worst bad man in Texas just as
soon as you like, and you have got him, sure. I wouldn't have b'lieved
it if I hadn't seen it; it is a kind of lightning trick. It air useful
to be able to back an unbroken broncho, it air useful to throw a rope
sartin and sure at full gallop over rough ground, but it air fifty
times more useful to be able to draw a pistol like a flash as you do.
Waal, let us go back to camp. You don't mind my telling the boys. It
would be hardly fair as any of them should get into a muss with you,
thinking as they had got a soft thing; and it will keep you out of
trouble, for you may be sure as no one is like to be getting up a muss
with you when they know it would be sartin death."
"Do as you like, Broncho; but it seems to me that there is no fear of
quarrelling, everyone seems to be wonderfully good-tempered, and not to
mind a bit what jokes are played upon him."
"That is so, Hugh; people are apt to keep their temper when they know
that if they don't someone gets killed; but it won't be always like
this. You see we have all been going through the winter, and some of us
have been having pretty hard times, and anyhow we are all pleased to be
at work again and out on the plains. But you will see that this kind of
thing won't last long. When the work gets heavy and men don't get four
hours a night in their blankets, and the herds take to stampeding, and
one thing and another, men's tempers won't be as they is now; some of
them grow sulky, and won't open their lips all day; and others get that
crusty that they are ready to jump down the throat of the first man
that speaks to them. Then trouble begins, you bet. Besides, when we get
further south, we may come upon Mexican villages, and where there is
Mexicans there is spirits, and where there is spirits there is trouble.
I tell you, lad, you don't begin to know about a cow-puncher's life
yet."
That evening, after the rest of the outfit had returned and supper
was over, Broncho Harry said, "I have had about the biggest surprise
to-day, boys, that I have ever had. I looked upon Hugh here as a
tender-foot; a good un, but still new to it, and I found out that when
it comes to a six-shooter, there ain't a man in the camp, nor in the
ranche, and I doubt whether there is in all Texas, as can shoot as he
does."
No one expressed a doubt as to the cow-boy's assertion, for on the
plains to doubt a man's word is a grave insult; but there was a murmur
of surprise.
"I don't say as he is the straightest shot," Harry went on; "he is a
good shot, although maybe there are plenty who can beat him; but when
it comes to quickness of drawing, I never see a man who was a spot to
him."
"That's so," Bill Royce put in. "Hugh can shoot straight, wonderful
straight; but I have seen men shoot better, and he ain't quite sartin
in his shooting when he is going at a gallop, although he'll learn
that; but as for quickness--well, I don't know how he does it; his
pistol is out before I have time to get a grip of mine."
"Let us see you, Hugh," two or three of the cow-boys said
simultaneously.
"I have no objection," Hugh said, standing up; "what shall I fire at?"
"Oh, fire at anything. It ain't the aim, it's the quickness Broncho and
Bill are talking about."
"Here's a mark I have often seen him fire at when we were out on the
plains together." And taking a stick of about the thickness of his
wrist from the fire, Bill Royce walked ten or twelve paces away; then
he held out the stick, which was blazing at the end.
All eyes were fixed on Hugh, who drew and fired from his hip, and the
burning end of the brand flew in fragments. There was an exclamation of
astonishment from all present.
"Waal, I never!" Long Tom said. "In course the shot wur nothing from
the shoulder, but there ain't many as could do it from the hip; but
that ain't so much, it wur the quickness! How on arth did you do it?
I had my eyes on your hand, and I don't know how it wur done no more
nor a baby. Waal, Hugh, I have never felt like quarrelling with you,
and you may take your davie I shall never feel like it now. Waal, I am
jiggered!"
The rest all assented with much variety of strange oaths, and then the
cow-boys' favourite topic having been broached, there was a good deal
of talk about shooting, and several exhibitions of skill that surprised
Hugh. Long Tom picked a tiny gourd, about the diameter of a penny, from
a trailing vine common on the plains, and after giving a stir to the
fire to make it blaze up, went ten paces away and held it up between
his finger and thumb, and Broncho Harry shattered it with a bullet;
then Broncho went the same distance out, turned himself sideways, and
Long Tom smashed the bowl of his pipe.
"Would you like to have a try, Hugh?" he asked.
"No, thank you, Broncho! I daresay I might hit the pipe if it were
fixed at that distance, but I would not try when it was within three
inches of your nose for anything."
"It will come in time, Hugh; it is just nerve; but I wouldn't mind
holding it out to you now. I should not be a bit afeard."
Then they sat down to the fire again, and Hugh heard many anecdotes
of marvellous shooting. Hitherto he had borne no nickname, being
the only one in camp addressed by his simple name; but he found next
morning that he had been re-christened, and henceforward he was always
addressed as Lightning.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]