CHAPTER XXV
THE DANCE AT THE SCHOOLHOUSE
The weeks went by. Haying time came and all hands were busy cutting,hauling and stacking. The winter had been one of heavy snows, and waterwas plentiful in the irrigating ditches. Rains had been more frequentthan usual that spring and summer, and in many a little meadow, toosmall for fencing, there was a growth of grass worth cutting. One ofthe labors of the summer about which the men growled bitterly was thenever-ending work of keeping the range cattle away from these littleunfenced pieces, in order to protect the growing grass. The cattlereturned again and again to these patches of fresh green grass, and themen were forced to exercise constant vigilance to keep them off themeadows.
At last the haying was over. The stacks were all protected from thewind and carefully fenced against ravages of the range stock. Now thenights were growing shorter and cooler; sometimes there was a frost,with a skim of ice. The leaves of the aspens began to turn yellow.Down on the lake the broods of young ducks which had been reared therewere gradually being added to by the arrivals of early migrants fromthe north. The last time Jack and Donald went out on the mountainsfor fresh meat for the house, they had killed a bull elk whose horns,though still wearing the velvet, were full-grown and hard, and theanimal was fat. September was at hand, and before many days Jack wouldbe obliged to turn his face eastward and get back to college and work.
"Well, boys," Mr. Sturgis said one morning at breakfast, "it's abouttime for us to gather our beef and start it in to the railroad. Weought to find it all pretty close at home, and I hope we can beginto-morrow, and gather it and take it to the railroad in short order."
The day was devoted to getting up the horses and preparing the wagonfor the short trip, for early the next morning they were to start fora little stream twelve or fifteen miles away, where there was a corraland a good camping place. Hugh had declared that on this trip he woulddrive the team and would cook, and Jack, Donald, Jack Mason, Rube andMr. Sturgis were to gather the beef.
Donald, who had become reasonably skilful with the rope and at homeon a cow horse, declared that if Hugh could cook he could wrangle thehorses, and that he would do that in addition to his riding. It was notlikely that there would be any night herding to be done. The beeves, asthey were cut out in considerable bunches, could be sent back to theranch and held in the pasture for a short time; while the horse bunchwould be likely to stay with the old bell mare that most of them knewso well.
Long before sunrise, the riders set out, traveling to the northeast,intending to ride circle of the basin and to turn in toward the campall the cattle found. These could be turned loose again after the beefhad been cut out; and possibly there would be time for another circleto the south, when more cattle could be brought in the same night orthe next morning; when again the beef would be cut out, and the cowsand young stock turned loose.
Not long after the riders had gone, Hugh climbed into the wagon and,chirruping to his team, soon disappeared down the valley.
It was a fine morning for riding, and all the men felt its invigoratinginfluence. The air was keen but dry, a light breeze just stirred thetops of the sage and the taller grass stems, and from the busheseverywhere sounded the sweet, melancholy, autumn whistle of themeadow-lark.
Few cattle were found as the riders went north, but as soon as theyturned east and south they came on frequent groups, brought in not longbefore from the round-up. The cattle were fat and logy, and the workof pushing them along was slow, so that not nearly so much ground wascovered, nor so much accomplished as had been hoped. Nevertheless, itwas a respectable bunch of cattle that was driven up that afternoonnear the wagon, where the work of cutting began.
Some years before, Mr. Sturgis had built near this place a large andstout corral of poles hauled from the mountains, and it was in thisthat the beeves were to be put and held, until enough had been broughttogether to drive up to the ranch.
The work of cutting went on rapidly, and before night all the steersfit to ship had been put in the corral. Then two of the men set out anddrove the cows and the young stock up toward the mountains, throwingthem back as far as possible on to the ground from which they hadbeen brought that morning. This would leave the country to be riddenthe next day free from cattle until they started to make their circleand would meet an entirely new lot. The steers were to be held in thecorral until morning, when two of the men would take them back to theranch and throw them into the pasture. While that was being done--forthe next twenty-four hours--there would be only three men to ride andcut, instead of five, but Hugh said that he would help.
Long before daylight the next morning, Rube and Donald set out for theranch with the steers. The animals were hungry and thirsty. At firstthe work of driving them was slow, but as the sun rose and the heatincreased the steers traveled faster, for most of them, knowing therange, knew also that water was to be found six or eight miles ahead,and they were anxious for water. After they had drunk, driving wasagain slow; but in the afternoon they reached the ranch, where withJoe's help the cattle were put in the big pasture. After a bite to eat,the men started back to the wagon, and reached it some time after dark.
Here they found that, notwithstanding the shortness of riders, anothergood gather of cattle had been made, and again there was a corral fullof beef. These Mr. Sturgis declared might as well wait there for a day,when it was hoped that the rest of the country would be covered, thebeef cut out, and the whole herd taken to the ranch, to be sent to therailroad a few days later for shipment.
So it turned out. By evening the whole Basin had been rounded up,all the beef it was desired to ship turned into the corral, and theround-up outfit was ready to start back. On the gather there had beenlittle that was exciting, but an abundance of hard work, althoughthere had been no riding night herd, for which the boys were devoutlythankful.
The return to the ranch was deliberate, and it took them two days toget there. The beeves were driven a short distance in the early morningand allowed to feed and rest, and then another short drive in theafternoon completed the day's travel; but the steers were herded atnight, and because of the small number of men the tours of duty werelong--instead of three reliefs there was only one. However, this wasfor a single night only.
For two weeks the beef was left in the pasture and in this timeregained whatever weight it had lost in the round-up. The men who fromtime to time rode into the pasture and around among the cattle wereproud of their quality--it was certainly a bunch to bring joy to itsowner.
At length Mr. Sturgis received word that in three days the cars for hisshipment would be on the railroad siding, and the beef was started totown. The journey was unmarked by any special incident; but the herdhad not been long on the road before it was learned that another bunchof beef was also on the way to the railroad and would reach there aboutthe same time as Mr. Sturgis' cattle. This was important news, for itwas not certain that the loading corrals were large enough to hold manymore cattle than those in Mr. Sturgis' gather, and if the other peopleshould by any chance get first to the railroad and occupy the corrals,the matter might be a serious one, as there was no feed for the cattlewithin six or eight miles of the town.
That night Mr. Sturgis asked Jack to ride over the next morning towhere the other cattle were being driven, and find out definitely whosethey were, how many, and when they expected to ship. Meantime theSturgis beeves would be driven on to the railroad; but if there shouldbe any likelihood that for any cause the shipment would be delayed, thecattle would be turned off the road before the town was reached, andheld until it was possible to see what should be done.
It was late that night when Jack returned to the camp, and as soon ashe had turned out his horse he went to his uncle.
"It was a false alarm," he reported; "the cattle that are coming areMr. Powell's, and there are only about one hundred of them. He hasordered cars and hopes to ship with you. He and Charley were proposingto go on to Chicago with the
cattle, and to help with ours as well astheirs. That will make four or five men to the train."
"We shall certainly be glad to have the help of those extra men," saidMr. Sturgis. "I've been wondering what we were going to do. There oughtto be at least four men with these cattle; and six would be better. Imay have to get Rube and Mason and Hugh to go; but Hugh is getting alittle bit old for work of that kind."
"I'd like to go," said Jack, "but I must get back, I suppose. I've losttoo much time, as it is. I can help load, but then I must take thepassenger. Another thing; I hear there is going to be a dance in towntwo nights from now. Charley Powell brought the news when he came outthe other day, and Mrs. Powell and Bess are with the Powell outfit,going to the dance."
"I suppose likely the whole country will be there. What do you knowabout the Claib Wood and Mason trouble, Jack? Is that likely to berenewed when we get into town? I don't think Mason is likely to makeany trouble; but Wood has rather a bad name. Suppose you speak toMason about it before we get in, and I'll try to find Wood there andwe'll see if we can't stop, or at least postpone, any renewal of thisquarrel."
Two days later the beeves were in the loading corrals, but the promisedcars had not yet made their appearance. Mr. Sturgis, knowing of oldthe uncertainties of railroad promises, had provided against such acontingency by arranging for a lot of hay, and the beeves were fed thatnight and were to be fed again the next morning. It was hoped thatduring the night the cars would come. Powell's cattle came in a littlelater than the Sturgis herd, and they also had to be fed, and fed withMr. Sturgis' hay. The next day, if it were not possible to load, itwould be necessary to drive the beeves eight or ten miles over to thebanks of the Medicine Bow River and to hold them there.
Before they reached town, Jack spoke to Mason about the possibility offurther trouble with Claib Wood, and Mason declared that, so far as hewas concerned, he had got through with Wood, and had absolutely nothingagainst him.
"Of course," said Mason, "I'll be on the lookout, and if Claib triesany of his tricks on me, I'll have to be just a little bit quicker thanhe is; but I've no quarrel with Claib, and don't want any."
Soon after they reached town Mr. Sturgis looked up Claib, and had quitea talk with him. He was apparently fully recovered from his injuries,but the weeks that he had spent under a roof had bleached away hisoutdoor color and he looked pale and thin.
"I tell you, Mr. Sturgis," said Claib, "I've no very good feelingstoward Jack Mason, for he picked a quarrel with me, and hurt me justfor meanness."
"In one way, I suppose that's true," answered Mr. Sturgis; "but, on theother hand, it's only fair for you to remember that you shot Rufe Masonwithout any particular provocation or quarrel, and it's natural thatJack should remember what you had done to his brother."
"Well," admitted Claib, "that's so. I never ought to have shot Rufe,and I wouldn't have done it, only I was drunk and quarrelsome. I expectit was natural for Jack Mason to want to get even with me. I've hadtime during the last two months to do a whole lot of thinking, and I'llsay this, that if Jack Mason is willing to wipe it out, I'll say thesame and shake hands with him on it."
"I'm mighty glad to hear you say that, Claib," said Mr. Sturgis; "andI'll be glad to see you two shake hands. You're both good men, and I'dbe sorry to see either killed. I feel sure that Mason is willing tocall it square, if you will. The next time you see Mason, go up to him,man fashion, and tell him how you feel. I'm sure you'll find him readyto make peace."
Early that day people from the neighboring ranches--men, women andchildren--began to gather for the coming dance, and the town showedunusual excitement. Women, young girls and children passed along thestreets, going from one store to another, tasting the delights of theshopping tours that came to them so infrequently. In more than oneof the saloons were heard sounds of the fiddles to be played by themusicians for the dance; but the master of ceremonies, dreading lestthese musicians should become too tipsy during the day to furnish themusic in the evening, had appointed a trustworthy person to go aboutwith each one and see that he did not drink.
Soon after dark, wagons began to drive up to the schoolhouse and tounload their freight of laughing, chattering people, excited by theprospect of the dance; and a little later the frequent pounding ofquick galloping hoofs told that the cowboys were gathering. Before longthe rail to which the horses were tied was crowded from end to end,while their riders gathered on either side of the door, squatted on theground and smoked their pipes and cigarettes and discussed the eventsof the range--the calf crop, the incidents of the round-ups, and thepiece of beef.
Presently from within the building came the sound of music, and anumber of the men rose to their feet, threw away their cigarettes and,with rasping shaps and clinking spurs, entered the door. In the littleanteroom, each man paused to divest himself of spurs, shaps, belt andsix-shooter--all these things being tied together and placed in acorner of the room.
In the ballroom the women and children sat on one side and the men,rather shamefacedly, tiptoed over to the other side and seatedthemselves. The costumes were those of everyday wear, though most ofthe men were freshly shaven. Some of them wore coats and most of themoveralls, often turned up for eight or ten inches, so as to show thetrousers beneath. Almost all of them wore the high-heeled cowboy bootsof the period, and not one carried a weapon. The women and childrenwere dressed in their best; some of the younger girls wore white,perhaps with a bright ribbon tied about the neck. Eyes shone brightand faces were expectant.
The schoolhouse benches had been moved back close to the wall andthe extra ones put out through the windows and piled up outside thebuilding. At the end of the room, on a little platform where commonlythe teacher sat, were the musicians. Four oil lamps on the four sidesof the room gave abundant light.
Presently Jim Decker, master of ceremonies, walked over the floorholding a candle in one hand and a jack-knife in the other, shaving waxon the floor, and then trying with his foot to rub it into the wood;and at length, when his candle was exhausted and he put his knife inhis pocket, a burst of music sounded from the two fiddlers and theclarionet man.
"Take your partners for the quadrille!" Decker shouted in stentoriantones.
A number of men at once crossed over, each bowing low or nodding beforethe lady of his choice, and asking her to dance; and in a few minutesthe room was crowded with promenading couples.
It was only a moment before this that Jack and Donald, having come upfrom the corral where they had been feeding and watering the stock, hadentered the room. Jack had told Donald about Bess Powell, and wantedhim to dance with her, but they were too late for the first dance. Asthey lingered by the door, looking for Mrs. Powell, to whom Donald mustbe presented, the sets were formed and the dance began. Jim Decker wascalling off the figures in a rude rhyme.
"Adams all, swing your Eves,"
was soon followed by the direction,
"Balance to your limberger cheese."
Donald nudged Jack.
"Great, isn't it?" he whispered.
Jack assented by making the Indian sign for "chief," raising theupturned forefinger high above the head and turning it downward.
A few moments later they were speaking with Mrs. Powell.
"Why didn't you get here earlier, so that you could have danced thefirst quadrille with Bess?" she said to Jack. "She hoped you would askher."
"Why, Mrs. Powell," he explained, "we were down at the corral feedingand watering and only just got here. Mr. Donald and I both want somedances with Bess."
"She'll be glad to dance," was the response; "but you'll have to wait awhile."
The dancers were enjoying themselves greatly. Though the men largelyoutnumbered the women, there were at first some girls without partners.The novelty of the surroundings struck terror to the hearts of some ofthe most daring riders and ropers, and kept them glued to their seats.Buck Wilson, Twenty-One Johnson, and Red Casey of the Bar Lazy A, whosefeats in broncho busting and roping had made them famous on
the range,felt their courage ooze away when it came to facing a girl and askingher to dance. Their bashfulness was added to by the shouts of JimDecker and other older men, who tried to induce them to pluck up heartand choose partners for the dance.
One by one timid men, who had not yet dared to come into the ballroom,slipped through the door and, apparently trying to make themselves assmall as possible, sidled over to seats on the men's side, and sat downto look on.
Most of those who danced did so with real feeling and great spirit. Oneor two men were extremely expert in cutting pigeonwings, and jumpinghigh in the air; and some of them stamped in time to the music, so thatthe air was full of dust. Most of the men, however, were extremelyquiet. At the end of each dance, the men took the girls to their seatsand, leaving them, either retired to their side of the room or slippedout of the door to smoke a cigarette or talk with those who had not yetdared to venture into the room.
About midnight came supper--pies, cakes and lemonade. Before this,Jack had had two dances with Bess and Donald three, and Jack hadalso succeeded in persuading Mrs. Powell to walk with him through aquadrille.
It was at the dance that Jack Mason and Claib met. Claib had come inwhile Mason was dancing, and had seated himself to look on. As soon asMason left his partner, he walked directly over to Claib.
"Well, Claib, how goes it?" he asked cheerily.
"All right now, Jack; and I'd like to shake hands with you, and callbygones bygones."
"That'll suit me to death, Claib," said Mason, giving his former enemya hearty handshake.
A little later, Mr. Sturgis appeared in the ballroom. He shook handswith Mrs. Powell and Bess and then looked about for the faces of hisown outfit. When he saw Mason, he told him that the cars had arrived,and that he wanted all hands down to begin to load by daylight, andasked him to tell the others.
Daylight had come before the dance ended, but when it broke up theSturgis outfit were down in the loading corrals, hard at work gettingthe steers into the cars as fast as they could.
And the next morning Jack's heart-strings were stretched when he shookhands with his friends and took the passenger for the Atlantic coast.
THE END
Transcriber's Note:
Small capitals have been rendered in full capitals.
Italics are indicated by _underscores_.
Footnote is placed at the end of chapter.
Apparent typographical errors have been corrected.
On page 44 "Photo." corrected to "Photo"
Jack the Young Cowboy: An Eastern Boy's Experiance on a Western Round-up Page 27