Henty George Alfred
Redskin and Cow-Boy: A Tale of the Western Plains

"What is the work for to-morrow?"

"Well, your lot and the men of the other two outfits are to be in the yard. We have got a spell off, except, of course, that we have got to look after our own bunch of cattle."

"How many are there of them?"

"About 6000 I should say. I expect some of us will start driving them up north day after to-morrow."

The next morning Hugh went down to the cattle-yard as soon as they had finished breakfast. Day had just broken, and while they were waiting for the herd to be brought up he looked round at the yard. The paling was composed of very strong posts six feet high, placed at intervals of two or three inches apart. It had been built three or four years before, as this place was the most convenient and central upon the plains. A few waggon loads of timber had been taken out there a fortnight before the arrival of the teams, with a gang of men, who took up any posts that showed signs of rottenness and replaced them by others, the various ranches in the round-up performing this duty by turns. The fence inclosed a space of upwards of an acre.

Beside the contingent from the ranche some forty or fifty cow-boys from the other ranches were gathered within it. Several fires were lighted for heating the brands, and the overseer who was in charge of the work for the day divided the men into parties, each group consisting of representatives of four or five different ranches. In a short time a great herd was seen approaching, driven in by a number of mounted cow-boys. The cross-bars were removed from the opening that served as a gate at the upper end of the yard, and the reluctant animals, unable to withstand the pressure of those behind, poured in. Several hundreds entered; the bars were dropped again, and the animals inclosed stood in a dense group, stamping the ground, and threatening an attack as the cow-boys approached them.

These all carried their ropes, some holding them in their hands ready for throwing, while others had them coiled over their left shoulder, while in their right hands they held their heavy whips. Those who were to fetch out the calves first approached. Half a dozen ropes were thrown, and the calves were dragged out, struggling and calling, or, as the cow-boys called it, bawling, to their mothers for assistance. The call was not in vain. The cows rushed out furiously to the assistance of their calves. As each did so the cow-boy whose comrade was dragging the calf towards one of the fires shouted out the brand on the cow, and then, cracking their whips, and if necessary using them, they drove the animal back into the mass and kept her there, while the calf was thrown down and branded with the same mark as its mother.

Hugh was among those told off to fetch out the calves. He had had some practice, as many of the mavericks found had calves by their side, and these as well as the cows had been branded with the. Another cow-boy assisted him to haul the calf by main force towards the fire, and held the rope while Hugh ran up to it. Placing himself beside it he leaned over it, grasped it by the flank with both hands, and then lifted it and flung it down on its side. His comrade then ran up and pinned its head to the ground, while Hugh knelt on its haunches, and the brander came up with a hot iron and marked it. The iron was held on long enough only to burn off the hair and slightly singe the hide, and the mark so made was almost indelible.

In addition to this the calf's ears were cut, each ranche having its particular mark, such as two long slits and a short one, a square piece cut out and a notch on either side of it, a semicircular piece and two notches, a semicircle and a square, &c. These marks were very durable, but even these often became confused owing to the ears getting torn by a rush through thorns, or by the action of a neighbour's horn in a close press or during a stampede. It required but small exercise of strength to throw a calf of three months old; but many of them were eight or nine months and nearly full grown, and it needed a great exertion of strength and a good deal of knack to throw down animals of this size. Once or twice Hugh had narrow escapes, for some of the cows, in spite of the cow-boys' whips, burst through them and rushed to the assistance of their calves; but each time the ropes descended over their heads or caught them by their legs, and threw them to the ground before they reached him.

After an hour of this work he was relieved by one of the other men, and took his turn of the lighter work of keeping back the cows. When every calf in the yard had been branded the gate at the lower end was opened and the animals driven out, while a fresh mob was admitted from the herd. So the work went on until the herd had all passed through the yard, and the calves been branded. Then there was a quarter of an hour's rest while another herd was driven up, and the work recommenced. By nightfall some nine thousand animals had passed through the yard, and nearly four thousand calves had been branded. Begrimed with sweat and dust, the cow-boys went down to the stream, where most of them bathed and all had a thorough wash, and then went up to their waggons to supper.

"How do you feel now?" Broncho Harry asked Hugh when he threw himself down by the fire.

"I feel broken up altogether, Harry. My back and loins feel as if I had been beaten to a pulp. I believe I have strained every muscle of my arms, and my hands and wrists are so stiff that I can't close my fingers."

"Yes; calf-chucking is pretty hard work until you get accustomed to it," the cow-boy said. "It is knack more than strength, though it needs a lot of strength too when you have got a rampagious ten-months calf in your hands."

"I have not got the knack yet," Hugh said; "and anything over six months I had to have roped by the legs and thrown, but I suppose I shall be able to tackle them in time."

In the case of the cows that had been branded only a year or two before there was no difficulty in recognizing the brand, and so to decide upon the ownership of the calf; but in the case of older cows the brand and ear-marks had in some instances both become so far obliterated that it was difficult to decide what they had originally been. Over these brands there were sharp and sometimes angry disputes among the cow-boys belonging to the different ranches. The case was generally settled by the overseer in charge of the day's operations calling upon three cow-boys belonging to ranches unconnected with the dispute to give their opinion as to what the marks had originally been. Their decision was accepted by all parties as final, and the cow rebranded as well as the calf.

"What do you do when the brand is so far gone as to make it altogether impossible to say what it was?" Hugh asked.

"It would not get here at all in that state," the cow-boy replied. "It would have been rebranded at once by the outfit that first found it just as if it had been a maverick. But in that case, of course, any cow-boy could claim the cow as belonging to his ranche if he could convince the others that the old brand was the one used by it. They never brand over the old mark; that must be left as an evidence."

The next day happened to be Sunday, and Hugh felt glad indeed that he had a day on which to recover from his stiffness. Sundays were always kept, except in cases of great emergency, as a day of rest, cow-boys taking the opportunity to wash and mend their clothes, to practise shooting with their revolvers, or to run races with their horses. At rounds-up these races afford one of the chief interests to the cow-boy, for rivalry between the various ranches runs high, and the men are ready to bet their "bottom dollar" upon the representative of their own ranche.

"Have you ever tried that horse of yours against anything fast, Hugh?" one of his comrades asked.

"No. I am sure he is very fast, but I have never really tried him."

"We were fools not to think of that before," Broncho Harry put in. "We ought to have raced him against some of the others, and have found out what he can do, and then we might have made a soft thing of it. I suppose you wouldn't mind trying him, Hugh?"

"Not at all. But if he is to race you had better ride him instead of me. I shouldn't say you were much above nine stone and a half."

"I don't know what you mean by your stone," Harry said. "We don't reckon that way out here. I was a hundred and thirty-five pounds last time I weighed at the head-station."

"That is two pounds more than I said. Well, I am certainly twenty pounds heavier – I should say twenty-five, and that makes a lot of difference."

"I should think so. Still we had best have a trial, Hugh, before we try to make a match. That is a good horse of yours. I mean the one you first mounted and who played such tricks with you. I should like some day to try him against my best, and see how they go. I daresay you will get him again before the round-up is over."

"What length do you run your races here, Broncho?"

"In general they are short dashes, not above half a mile at the outside, but sometimes a match is made for some distance. Well, when we have had dinner we will trot out into the plain. We must go off a goodish bit, and make sure that none of the boys of the other ranches are within sight."

Accordingly, when dinner was over, Broncho Harry and Hugh went out to the horses. Prince come trotting out as soon as he heard Hugh's whistle, and Broncho Harry soon dropped his noose over the neck of his own horse. They then put on the saddles and bridles which they had brought with them, and went off at a canter across the plains. They ran three or four trials. The result showed that Broncho's horse was quicker in getting off, and that in a quarter of a mile dash there was little to choose between them, but at longer distances than this Prince was, in spite of the greater weight he carried, much the faster.

"That horse can go," the cow-boy said admiringly. "I shouldn't mind if there were a pack of Redskins coming behind me if I was on his back. The worst of him is he is so good-looking. If he was ugly to look at we might clean out all the camps, but he looks so good that I am afraid we sha'n't be able to get much money out of him. Well, now, we won't race him this evening. There are sure to be some matches on, and I will ride my horse. That way I shall find what there is in the camp, and whether there is anything that can beat him as much as your horse can do. Don't you go cavorting about on him; just let him run with the rest of the mob. Then he won't be noticed. There is too much to be got through in this camp for men to take stock of the horses. Then if we keep him dark we can get someone to set up his horse against the best of ours. We will put the boys up to it when we get back, or someone may be blowing about your horse."

There were, as the cow-boy anticipated, a number of races run that evening. Broncho Harry beat two other horses, but lost his winnings and more in the third race, when he was beaten somewhat easily by an animal which in point of looks was greatly the inferior of his own.

"That is just what I told you, Hugh," he said, when, after unsaddling his horse and sending it off to join its companions on the plains, he returned to the waggon. "I am a blessed fool, for I ought to have known that when that cross T's man offered to back that ugly-looking brute against mine, he wur a sight better than he looked. He just shot off like an arrow at starting. I didn't loose anything afterwards, but I couldn't pick up them three lengths he got in the first forty yards. If we make a match against him we must see that it ain't less than half a mile."

The next morning the work in the stock-yards was resumed and continued throughout the week.

CHAPTER X.
A RACE

"I DON'T think, Broncho," Hugh said one evening, "that I should do anything more about that race, if I were you, or if you do, don't lay out any money on it. There is just as much interest in a race if it is for a dollar or two as if all the boys in the outfit piled their money upon it. That horse beat yours pretty easily, quite as easy, I should say, as Prince could beat him for that distance, and I really don't think that Prince would have any pull of him in races of the length you have on here. In a twenty-mile gallop I feel sure he would leave anything in camp behind easily, but I certainly would not race him any long distance of that sort. If I had a troop of Indians after me Prince would have to do his best whether it was twenty miles or fifty; but I would not press him when it was merely a question of making money on him. Your horse was beaten, and, of course, we none of us like to own that the cross T's men have got a better horse than we have. I am quite willing that Prince should run for the honour of the ranche, but I don't feel at all sure about his winning, and should be sorry to see the boys plank their dollars down heavily upon him."

"All right, Hugh! it is your horse, and I will do as you want; but I should like to take that fellow down a bit. He is one of those fellows as is always blowing. He rather likes to be thought a bad man, and is said to be very handy with his six-shooter."

On Sunday morning after breakfast was over the cow-boy in question, with two or three men of the same ranche, came across from their waggon to that of the men.

"Have you got anything else that can go in this crowd?" he said, addressing Broncho Harry. "There don't seem any horses worth talking about in the whole round-up. Some of our boys say as how they have seen one of your lot on a likely-looking bay."

"Well, I don't deny he is a good-looking horse," Broncho Harry said, "and can go a bit, but he is slow at starting, and that critter of yours is too speedy for the bay to have a chance of catching him up in a quarter of a mile. Make it a bit over, and I will ride him myself against you if you like."

"I don't care about a half-mile," the man said, "but I will split the difference, if you like; or if you fancy your critter for a long journey, I am open to make a match ten miles out and back, each side to put down two hundred dollars."

"What do you say to that, mate?" Broncho Harry said, turning to Hugh.

Hugh shook his head decidedly. "I wouldn't have him ridden at racing speed twenty miles if there were a thousand dollars at stake," he said; "but if you like to take up the other offer you can ride him."

"Oh! it is your horse, is it?" the cow-boy said; "why don't you ride him yourself?"

"Because I ride something like two stone heavier than you do," Hugh said; "and if the horse is going to race he may as well have a fair chance."

"Well, how much shall it be for?" the cow-boy said, turning again to Broncho Harry. "I suppose we may as well say the same stake. A hundred dollars a side, I suppose. That won't hurt you if you fancy the horse."

Two or three of the men broke in together, "Take him up, Broncho, we will all chip in."

"Very well, then, that is settled," Broncho Harry said. "Shall we say five o'clock? I suppose we shall ride the same course as last time. I will go out now and step the distance if you will go on with me."

"All right!" the man said; and they at once proceeded to mark out a distance of seven hundred paces, which they both agreed was somewhere about half-way between a quarter and half a mile. A wand, to which Broncho attached his neckerchief, was stuck up as the winning-post, while a low bush marked the point from which they had started to measure. The news soon spread through the camp, and many of the cow-boys of the other ranches strolled in to find out what the men thought of their chances, and to see whether they were disposed to back their horse. Hugh, however, persuaded them not to risk their money.

"You see," he said, "my horse didn't beat Broncho's by much."

"No more did the other chap, Hugh; he just jumped two lengths ahead, and after that Broncho held him."

"Yes, I know that," Hugh replied, "but we don't know that he was doing his best."

"That is so," Broncho agreed. "He knew he had got me, and there was no use in giving his horse away. I expect he had got a bit in hand. I don't think it is good enough to bet on. Now let us get this money together."

Twenty of the men put down their five dollars at once; and as the others wished also to have a share, Broncho Harry said, "Well, you three put in your five dollars each, and Hugh and I will make it up to fifty. Like enough they will be laying odds on their horse, especially when they find we won't bet, so that at the last moment I will take them up for this fifty, and if we win we will put it to the stakes and divide up all round."

The proposal was at once agreed to.

Towards the afternoon they found that the men were offering three and four to one upon their horse, for the odds had run up rapidly, as none of the other cow-boys were disposed to back the , seeing that the men of that ranche would not bet on their horse. At the appointed hour the two competitors went to the post. There had been several minor races, but these had attracted comparatively little interest; every man in camp, however, had assembled for the purpose of seeing this contest, and they were now gathered near the winning-post. A cow-boy belonging to a neutral ranche was to act as starter. The two riders had divested themselves of their heavy boots.

"You must shake him up to begin with, Broncho," Hugh had said to him before he mounted. "He will do his best afterwards. He hates being passed, and when he sees the other ahead of him he will go all he knows."

"Now," the starter said, when the two horses stood side by side in a line with him, "I shall walk on twenty or thirty yards ahead so that you can both see me, then I shall hold up my six-shooter and fire. Don't either of you start till I do. I may fire straight off. I may wait a minute after I have got my hand up. You have got to keep your eyes on me, and when you see the flash then you let them go."

Both men fastened their spurs on to their stockinged feet, and as the pistol went off struck their heels into their mounts, while, at the same moment, Broncho Harry brought down his whip smartly on Prince's quarter. Astonished at this treatment, the animal gave a bound forward and started at full gallop.

There was no occasion for the other man to use his whip; his horse knew what was expected of it, and with its hind legs gathered under it, had been expecting the signal, and was even more quickly away than Prince. It did not, however, gain more than a length. For the first three hundred yards the horses maintained their relative position, but Prince was tugging at his bridle; and his rider, though shouting and yelling as if to urge him to his fullest speed, was yet holding him in. Then the leading horseman, thinking that Prince was doing his best, and feeling certain that he had the race in hand, dug his spurs into his horse, and the animal in a few bounds had added another length to his lead; but Broncho Harry loosened his pull at the reins and let Prince go, and before another hundred yards had been passed his head was level with the other's stirrup.

The man whipped and spurred, while Broncho Harry sat quiet on his horse, and contented himself by maintaining his present position. When a hundred yards from home he shook his horse up, and slightly touched him with his spur. Almost instantaneously Prince was level with his opponent, and then dashing on ahead passed the flag-post three lengths in advance amidst a loud cheer from the men, and from most of the other cow-boys; for although few had ventured to back the horse, there was a general feeling of satisfaction at seeing the man beaten. The latter without a word circled round and rode straight back to his waggon, and the stakeholder handed over the stake and bets, which had both been deposited with him, to Broncho Harry.

"Two hundred and fifty dollars," he said, as he put the roll of notes in his pocket, for the bets had been made at three to one. "I call that an easier way of making money than cow-punching. I can't stand treat, boys, because there is no liquor in camp, but remember I owe you one all round the first time we meet in a saloon."

Returning to camp the division was made, and each of the twenty-five men received his share of ten dollars, together with the money he had staked.

"I shouldn't be surprised, Hugh," Broncho Harry said as they sat round the fire, "if we have trouble with that skunk. He is a bad-tempered lot at best, and he dropped his money heavy, for I hear he put in all the stake himself, and he bet some besides. He took twenty off me last week, but he has dropped pretty well half his season's money. You see if he don't try and get up trouble."

"If he does, leave him to me, Harry."

"I don't want to leave him to you, Hugh. I rode the race, and if he wants fighting, he will get it here; but I am afraid it is likely enough he will try and make trouble with you. He knows that I am a pretty tough hand, but he thinks you nothing but a tender-foot, and that sort of fellow always fixes a quarrel on a soft if he gets the chance."

"Well, as you know, Harry, I can take care of myself, and I would much rather it was me than you. I know that you are a good deal better shot than I am, but you know you are not nearly so quick with your weapon. There would be no occasion to shoot, I fancy."

"You are right there, lad; if you get the drop on him, you will see he will weaken directly."

The evening, however, passed off without the defeated cow-boy making his appearance.

"He reckons it wouldn't do," Long Tom said. "You see the hull crowd would be agin him if he were to come and get up a muss because he has been beat in a race. A fellow who runs his horse is bound to look pleasant whether he wins or whether he loses, and a good many of the boys was saying as they never see a worse thing than the way he galloped off after Broncho came in ahead of him. If he was to come down here and make a muss, he knows that for sure the crowd wouldn't stand it, and that if everything wasn't perfectly square, they would come Judge Lynch on him in no time. Now a man may take the chance of being shot in a quarrel; but when, if he ain't shot by one man he is likely to get hung by a crowd, it takes a pretty hard man to run the chances; only, look out for him, Broncho. I believe he has got a touch of Mexican blood in him, although, I dare say, he would shoot the man who ventured to say so, only it is there for all that, and you know a Mexican don't mind waiting months so that he gets even at last."

"That's so," Broncho Harry agreed; "a greaser is about the worst sort of white; that is, if you can call them white. I don't know but I hate them more than Injuns."

On the following morning half No. 1 outfit started north, with a herd of 5000 cattle that had been picked out from those driven in and branded; and Hugh, with his four mates, now took their turn at driving in the herds to the yard. This was much more to Hugh's taste than the previous work had been. He did not mind the work of hauling out and throwing the calves, nor of keeping back the cows, but he hated seeing the calves branded, and still more, the operation of cutting their ears. It was, of course, necessary work, but it was painful to him to share in, and indeed he had generally managed to get Bill Royce to exchange work with him when he was told off to perform these operations.

The herding, on the other hand, was good fun. The animals seemed to have an instinctive repulsion for the stock-yard; many of them had been branded there the previous year, and probably recognized the spot. At any rate, there were constant attempts to break away, and it needed all the energy and vigilance of their guard to drive them down to the yard, and still more to keep them there while awaiting their turn to enter it. But more exciting still, and much more dangerous, was the work of those who kept guard at the lower end of the yard. As the animals came out, the calves were half mad with terror and pain, and the cows furious at the defeat of their efforts to succour their offspring, so that it was dangerous work for the men of the various ranches to pick out the animals bearing their brand and to drive them off to the knot of animals gathered at some little distance away under the guard of two of their comrades.

Sometimes the cows made furious charges, which it needed all the agility of horse and rider to avoid; then, as the animal rushed past, a rope would be thrown over its head or under its leg, and an instant later it would come to the ground with a crash. This generally proved sufficient. The cow, when the rope was slackened, rose to its feet in a half dazed way and walked heavily off, with the evident impression upon its mind that an earthquake had taken place. Hugh was glad when he heard in the middle of the day that the rest of the outfit had arrived with the waggon and all the horses – for he felt that Prince had had enough of it – and he at once galloped off, roped one of his own horses, shifted the saddle on to him, and went back to work.

One or two of the bulls gave a great deal of trouble, charging hither and thither furiously as they came out from the yard. In these cases three or four of the cow-boys united, and while one attracted his attention, the others threw their ropes. Some of the bulls had to be thrown half a dozen times before they were subdued.

A few days later the man, who went by the name of Flash Bill, walked up to the fire round which the cow-boys of No. 2 outfit were sitting.

"I have just come across to say I am sorry I rode off that day you beat me, Broncho. I allow it was a mean trick of me, but I was riled pretty considerable; still I oughtn't ter have done it; it wurn't the right thing."

"It wurn't," Harry said; "but now you own up there is an end of it. Sit right down and have a smoke."

For some time the conversation turned upon horses. Two or three other men of the ranche sauntered up and joined in. Presently Flash Bill turned to Hugh, who had taken no part in the conversation, and said, "Have you a mind to trade that horse?"

"No, I wouldn't sell it at any price," Hugh said. "It exactly suits me, and I should find difficulty in getting another as good."

"Seems to me as I have seen that horse before," the man said. "Had him long?"

"I have had him about eight months," Hugh replied.

"Curious; I seem to know him. Can't think where I have seen him; somewhere out West."

"I bought him at M'Kinney," Hugh said.

"Oh! You bought him, did you?"

"How do you suppose I got him?" Hugh asked shortly.

"Oh! there are plenty of horses out on these plains as never was paid for," Flash Bill said.

"I don't say there are not," Hugh replied. "At any rate, I expect you are a better authority about that than I am."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean exactly what I say," Hugh said quietly.

"Do you mean to say as I have been a horse-thief!" the man exclaimed furiously.

"I mean to say exactly what I did say," Hugh replied.

"Then you are a liar!" and the man's hand went to his hip. To his astonishment, before his finger had closed on the butt of his pistol, he was looking down the barrel of Hugh's revolver.

"Drop that," Hugh exclaimed, "or I fire!" Flash Bill threw up his hand.

"Now you will take that back," Hugh said.

"I take it back," Flash Bill said sullenly. "You've got the drop on me, though how you did it I don't know. There ain't nothing more to be said. I take it back."

"There is an end of it, then," Hugh said, replacing his pistol in his belt. "You thought you had got a soft thing. You see you've made a mistake."

"You had better git, Flash Bill," Broncho Harry said. "You ain't wanted here. You came over to make a muss, and only I knowed as Hugh could hold his own with you I would have put a bullet into you myself when I saw your hand go to your pistol. You git, and if you will take my advice, you will git altogether. You can't play the bad man in this camp any longer, after weakening before a young chap as is little more than a tender-foot."

With a muttered execration Flash Bill got up, and, followed by the men of his own ranche, walked off.

"You did mighty well, considering that it is the first trouble you've been in, Hugh; but you did wrong in not shooting. The rule on the plains is, if one man calls another either a liar or a coward, that fellow has a right to shoot him down if he can get his gun out first. That's the rule, ain't it, boys?"

There was a chorus of assent.

"You may call a man pretty nigh everything else, and it don't go for much. We ain't chice as to our words here; but them two words, liar and coward, is death, and you would have done well to have shot him. You bet, you'll have trouble with that fellow some day. You'll see he will go now, but you'll hear of him again."

"I could no more have shot him than I could have flown," Hugh said, "for he was really unarmed."

"He would have shot you if he had been heeled first," Long Tom said, "and there ain't a man in the camp but would have said that you had been perfectly right if you had shot him, for it is sartin he came over here bound to kill you. I agree with Broncho. You have done a mighty soft thing, and maybe you will be sorry for it some day. I have heard say that Flash Bill has been a mighty hard man in his time, and I guess as stealing horses ain't been the worse thing he has done, and I reckon he has come back here to work for a bit, because he has made it too hot for himself in the settlements. Well, it's a pity you didn't shoot."

The next morning, as they were saddling their horses, Flash Bill rode past. He had his blankets and kit strapped behind his saddle. He checked his horse as he came up to them. "I give you warning," he said to Hugh, "that I'll shoot at sight when we meet again! You too, Broncho Harry."

"All right!" Broncho Harry replied. "We shall both be ready for you." Without another word Flash Bill put spurs to his horse and galloped away.