by Andy Adams
CHAPTER XIII
A WELCOME GUEST
The heralds of spring bespoke its early approach. April was ushered into the songs of birds, the greening valley, and the pollen on thewillow. The frost arose, the earth mellowed underfoot, and the creekpurled and sang as it hastened along. The cattle played, calves wereborn, while the horses, in shedding their winter coats, matted thesaddle blankets and threw off great tufts of hair where they rolled onthe ground.
The marketing of the peltry fell to Joel. Dell met the wagon returningfar out on the trail. "The fur market's booming," shouted Joel, oncoming within speaking distance. "We'll not know the price for a fewweeks. The station agent was only willing to ship them. The storekeeperwas anxious to do the same, and advanced me a hundred dollars on theshipment. Wolf skins, prime, are quoted from two to two dollars and ahalf. And I have a letter from Forrest. The long winter's over! You canshout! G'long, mules!"
During the evening, Dell read Forrest's letter again and again. "Keepbusy until the herds arrive," it read. "Enlarge your water supply andplan to acquire more cattle."
"That's our programme," said Joel. "We'll put in two dams between hereand the trail. Mr. Quince has never advised us wrong, and he'll explainthings when he comes. Once a week will be often enough to ride aroundthe cattle."
An air of activity was at once noticeable around headquarters. Thegarden was ploughed and planting begun. The fence was repaired aroundthe corn-field, the beaver dams were strengthened, and sites for twoother reservoirs were selected. The flow of the creek was ample to filllarge tanks, and if the water could be conserved for use during the drysummer months, the cattle-carrying capacity of the ranch could begreatly enlarged. The old beaver dams around headquarters had withstoodevery drouth, owing to the shade of the willows overhead, the roots ofwhich matted and held the banks intact. Wagon loads of willow slips wereaccordingly cut for the new dams and the work begun in earnest.
"We'll take the tent and camp at the lower site," announced Joel. "Itwould waste too much time to go and come. When we build the upper one,we can work from home."
The two tanks were finished within a month. They were built severalmiles apart, where there was little or no fall in the creek, merely tohold still water in long, deep pools. The willow cuttings were plantedalong the borders and around the dams, the ends of which were riprappedwith stone, and a spillway cut to accommodate any overflowduring freshets.
The dams were finished none too soon, as a dry spring followed, and thereservoirs had barely filled when the creek ceased flowing. The unusualwinter snowfall had left a season's moisture in the ground, and thegrass came in abundance, matting slope and valley, while the garden grewlike a rank weed. The corn crop of the year before had repaid well inforage, and was again planted. In the face of another drouthy summer,the brothers sowed as if they fully expected to reap. "Keep busy" wasthe slogan of the springtime.
The month of June arrived without a sign of life on the trail. Nearlyone hundred calves were born to the herd on the Beaver, the peltry hadcommanded the highest quotation, and Wells Brothers swaggered in theirsaddles. But still the herds failed to come.
"Let's put up the tent," suggested Dell, "just as if we were expectingcompany. Mr. Paul or Mr. Quince will surely ride in some of theseevenings. Either one will reach here a full day in the lead of his herd.Let's make out that we're looking for them."
Dell's suggestion was acted on. A week passed and not a trail manappeared. "There's something wrong," said Joel, at the end of the secondweek. "The Lovell herds go through, and there's sixteen of them onthe trail."
"They're water-bound," said Dell, jumping at a conclusion.
"Waterbound, your foot! The men and horses and cattle can all swim.Don't you remember Mr. Quince telling about rafting his wagon acrossswimming rivers? Waterbound, your grandmother! High water is nothing tothose trail men."
Dell was silenced. The middle of June came and the herds had notappeared. The brothers were beginning to get uneasy for fear of badnews, when near dark one evening a buckboard drove up. Its rumblingapproach hurried the boys outside the tent, when without a word of hail,Quince Forrest sprang from the vehicle, grasped Dell, and the two rolledover and over on the grass.
"I just wanted to roll him in the dirt to make him grow," explainedForrest to an elderly man who accompanied him. "These are my boys. Lookat that red-headed rascal--fat as a calf with two mothers. Boys, shakehands with Mr. Lovell."
The drover alighted and greeted the boys with fatherly kindness. He wasa frail man, of medium height, nearly sixty years of age, with an energythat pulsed in every word and action. There was a careworn expression inhis face, while an intensity of purpose blazed from hungry, deep-seteyes which swept every detail of the scene at a glance. That he wasworried to the point of exhaustion was evident the moment thatcompliments were exchanged.
"Show me your water supply," said he to Joel; "old beaver ponds, if I amcorrectly informed. We must move fifty thousand cattle from Dodge to thePlatte River within the next fortnight. One of the worst drouths in thehistory of the trail confronts us, and if you can water my cattlebetween the Prairie Dog and the Republican River, you can name yourown price."
"Let's drive around," said Forrest, stepping into the blackboard,"before it gets too dark. Come on, boys, and show Mr. Lovell the water."
All four boarded the vehicle, the boys standing up behind the singleseat, and drove away. In a mile's meanderings of the creek were fivebeaver ponds, over which in many places the willows interlapped. Thepools stood bank full, and after sounding them, the quartette turnedhomeward, satisfied of the abundant water supply.
"There's water and to spare for the entire drive," said Forrest to hisemployer. "It isn't the amount drank, it's the absorption of the sunthat gets away with water. Those willows will protect the pools untilthe cows come home. I felt sure of the Beaver."
"Now, if we can arrange to water my herds here--"
"That's all arranged," replied Forrest. "I'm a silent partner in thisranch. Anything that Wells Brothers owns is yours for the asking. Am Iright, boys?"
"If Mr. Lovell needs the water, he is welcome to it," modestly repliedJoel.
"That's my partner talking," said Forrest; "that was old man Joel Wellsthat just spoke. He's the senior member of the firm. Oh, these boys ofmine are cowmen from who laid the rail. They're not out to rob aneighbor. Once you hear from the head of the Stinking Water, you canorder the herds to pull out for the Platte."
"Yes," said Mr. Lovell, somewhat perplexed. "Yes, but let's get thewater on the Beaver clear first. What does this mean? I offer a man hisprice to water my cattle, and he answers me that I'm welcome to it fornothing. I'm suspicious of the Greeks when they come bearing gifts. Areyou three plotting against me?"
"That's it," replied Forrest. "You caught the gleam of my axe all right.In the worry of this drouth, you've overlooked the fact that you havefive horses on this ranch. They were left here last fall, expecting topick them up this spring. Two of them were cripples and three were goodcow horses. Now, these boys of mine are just branching out into cattle,and they don't need money, but a few good horses are better than gold.That's about the plot. What would you say was the right thing to do?"
Mr. Lovell turned to the boys. "The five horses are yours. But I'm stillin your debt. Is there anything else that you need?"
The question was repeated to Forrest. "By the time the herds reachhere," said he, mildly observant, "there will be quite a number oftender-footed and fagged cattle. They could never make it throughwithout rest, but by dropping them here, they would have a fightingchance to recuperate before winter. There won't be a cent in anabandoned steer for you, but these boys--"
"Trim the herds here on the Beaver," interrupted Mr. Lovell. "I'll giveall my foremen orders to that effect. Cripples are worthless to me, butgood as gold to these boys. What else?"
"Oh, just wish the boys good luck, and if it ever so happens, speak agood word for the Wells Brothers. I found them white, and
I think you'llfind them on the square."
"Well, this is a happy termination," said Mr. Lovell, as he alighted atthe tent. "Our water expense between Dodge and Ogalalla will not exceedfive thousand dollars. It cost me double that getting out of Texas."
Secure on the Beaver, the brothers were unaware of the outside drouth,which explained the failure of the herds to appear on the trail as inother years. It meant the delay of a fortnight, and the concentration ofa year's drive into a more limited space of time. Unconscious of itsvalue, the boys awoke to the fact that they controlled the only waterbetween the Prairie Dog and the Republican River--sixty miles of theplain. Many of the herds were under contract and bond to cattlecompanies, individuals, army posts, and Indian agencies, and no excusewould be accepted for any failure to deliver. The drouth might prove anill-wind to some, but the Beaver valley was not only exempt but couldextend relief.
After supper, hosts and guests adjourned to the tent. Forrest hadunearthed the winter struggle of his proteges, and gloating over themanner in which the boys had met and overcome the unforeseen, he assumedan observant attitude in addressing his employer.
"You must be working a sorry outfit up on the Little Missouri," said he,"to lose ten per cent of straight steer cattle. My boys, here on theBeaver, report a measly loss of twelve head, out of over five hundredcattle. And you must recollect that these were rag-tag and bob-tail, theflotsam of a hundred herds, forty per cent cripples, walking oncrutches. Think of it! Two per cent loss, under herd, a sleet over therange for six weeks, against your ten per cent kill on an open range.You must have a slatterly, sore-thumbed lot of men on your beef ranch."
Mr. Lovell was discouraged over the outlook of his cattle interests."That was a first report that you are quoting from," said he to Forrest."It was more prophecy than statement. We must make allowances for youngmen. There is quite a difference between getting scared and being hurt.My beef outfit has orders to go three hundred miles south of our rangeand cover all round-ups northward. It was a severe winter, and the driftwas heavy, but I'm not worrying any about that sore-fingered outfit.Promptly meeting government contracts is our work to-day. My cattle aretwo weeks behind time, and the beef herds must leave Dodge to-morrow.Help me figure it out: Can you put me on the railroad by noon?" heconcluded, turning to Joel.
"Easily, or I can carry a message to-night."
"There's your programme," said Forrest, interceding. "One of these boyscan take you to Grinnell in time for the eastbound train. Wire your beefherds to pull out for the Platte. You can trust the water to improvefrom here north."
"And you?" inquired the drover, addressing his foreman.
"I'll take the buckboard and go north until I meet Paul. That will coverthe last link in the trail. We'll know our water then, and time ourdrives to help the cattle. It's as clear as mud."
"Just about," dubiously answered Mr. Lovell. "Unless I can get anextension of time on my beef contracts, the penalty under my bonds willamount to a fortune."
"The army is just as well aware of this drouth as you are," saidForrest, "and the War Department will make allowances. The governmentdon't expect the impossible."
"Yes," answered the old drover with feeling. "Yes, but it exacts a bond,and stipulates the daily forfeiture, and if any one walks the plank,it's not your dear old Uncle Samuel. And it matters not how much sleep Ilose, red tape never worries."
The boys made a movement as if to withdraw, and Forrest arose. "Theprogramme for to-morrow, then, is understood," said the latter. "Thehorses will be ready at daybreak."
It was midnight when the trio sought their blankets. On the part of thebrothers, there was a constant reference to their guest, the drover, anda desire, if in their power, to aid him in every way.
"I wanted you boys to meet and get acquainted with Mr. Lovell," saidForrest, as all were dozing off to sleep. "There is a cowman in athousand, and his word carries weight in cattle matters. He's ratherdeep water, unless you cross or surprise him. I nagged him about the menon his beef ranch. He knew the cattle wouldn't winter kill when theycould drift, and the round-up will catch every living hoof. He was toofoxy to borrow any trouble there, and this long yell about the drouthinterfering with delivery dates keeps the trail outfits against thebits. Admitting his figures, the water expense won't be a drop in thebucket. It affords good worrying and that keeps the old man in fightingform. I'm glad he came along; treat him fair and square, and hisfriendship means something to you, boys."