Man Called Ty

by Dicksion, William Wayne

  Sam told the men that the drive would begin Monday morning after they had had a chance to get into town, buy what they needed, see the girls at the saloon, and get drunk. The drive would take about three months.

  Ty and Gabe drove one of the freight wagons into town so they could haul the cowboys back to the ranch who were too drunk to ride their horses. While the men were getting drunk, Ty went to the boarding house to say goodbye to Mrs. Gaither and Wilma.

  Wilma was surprised to see him and kissed him on the cheek. “Ty,” she asked, “is there a chance you might be returning?”

  Ty took her hands and replied, “Yes, I left some unfinished business on a riverbank a few days’ ride east of here. Someday I’ll return to finish that business. You’re a fine young woman, in a land full of single men. One day, one of those men will look at you and realize what a fine wife you would make.”

  Chapter 8

  Ty and Gabe attended a meeting of the cattlemen at the Harmony home.

  “Tomorrow,” Sam said to the ranchers, “we begin the drive. It’ll take about three months to complete and return with your money. I can’t guarantee that we’ll get all your cattle to market, and I have no way of knowing how much they’ll sell for. All I can tell you for sure is that we’ll get as many of them through as we can, and we’ll get the best price possible. Each of you will be paid full price for every cow we get to market. I’ll charge you two dollars per head for driving them. If you’d like to sell them here, I’ll buy’em at two dollars a head, but I’ll have to pay you after I get back.”

  “What if you lose the entire herd?” a cattleman asked.

  “I’ll put up one acre of my ranch as security for each cow I buy,” Sam responded.

  “I’ll sell my animals here,” a man said.

  “A sure thing sounds good to me,” another of the ranchers joined in.

  “If that’s what you want to do, go with Gabe and count your animals. He’ll draw up the papers. Is there anyone else? . . . No? . . . Well, I’d appreciate it if you’d have your men guard the herd tonight, so my men can get a good night’s sleep before we start the drive. Thank you for coming. I’ll see you when I return.”

  The ranchers left. Ty noticed that Mrs. Harmony had been sitting in an adjoining room listening. He smiled. Now that’s a smart woman, and Sam is lucky to have her for a wife.

  There was no drinking or gambling in the bunkhouse that night, but there was a lot of talk about what they might encounter on the drive. The night was warm. Shorty and Hermano sat outside, playing their guitars and singing lonely songs. Their music lulled Ty to sleep.

  * * *

  Morning came and the drive began. Sam and Ty led the herd, followed by the remuda, the two freight wagons, and the chuck wagon. The remuda contained the horses that the cowboys would use while driving the herd. Sam and Ty’s job was to find the best places to cross the rivers and canyons and make sure there was plenty of water and grass.

  The job of following the herd and watching for stragglers was called “riding drag.” It was a dusty job and the men took turns riding that position.

  As Ty rode, he practiced with his lariat. He was not as good with the lariat as the other cowboys, but he was learning fast. By watching Sam, he learned the job of ramrod. If anything happened to Sam, Ty would have to take over. In the evenings, Sam told Ty and Gabe what to expect. One of their biggest obstacles was the Red River. It wasn’t deep, but it was wide and treacherous with quicksand.

  “I know a place where we can cross,” Sam said. “The river banks are not too steep and the quicksand is not too bad. Quicksand is deceptive. You have to actually wade into it before you can know for sure that it’s there, and you can lose your horse if you’re not careful.”

  “Are you saying that we’ll have to get off our horses and walk across the quicksand to find it?” Ty asked.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s the only way, unless you’re willing to sacrifice your mount, and that isn’t fair to your horse.”

  “I would rather be fair to me,” Gabe confessed. “What happens if I walk into the quicksand before I realize it’s there?”

  “The best thing to do is to fall over on your face with your arms and legs spread like an eagle in flight,” Sam advised. “Most people have a misconception about quicksand. All it is, is sand held in suspension in still water. If you step into it, it’s like stepping into water. You will sink. The difference is that in water, you can swim, but in quicksand, it closes over you, and if you don’t get out right away, it’ll trap you. If you lay flat so that your body weight is distributed, you’ll float just as if you were in water. The trick is to move quickly. Once you go under and the sand closes over you, no one will ever know what happened to you.”

  “I think I’ll watch you do it first, Sam,” Gabe concluded.

  “If someone sees you go under, can they pull you out?” Ty asked.

  “Yes, that would be possible, but it would be very risky for the one doing the pulling. They would have to get into the sand and keep it stirred up so it will remain in solution. Once you disturb the water that is holding the sand in suspension, the sand settles to the bottom and the water runs off, leaving you trapped. It gets rather iffy. A lot depends on how deep the quicksand is. I’ll show you how it works when we get to the Red. We’ll reach the crossing in about a week. It’ll probably take us all day to cross. After we cross, we’ll be in Indian Territory, and then there’ll be a lot of other things to worry about.”

  “I’d like to take your word about the quicksand,” Gabe said, “but I’m afraid I’m not going to get the chance.”

  Ty got up from where he was sitting. “It’s time for me to relieve Curly. He’s riding night herd.” Ty found Curly by listening for his singing. Curly always sang as he made his rounds. He was riding on the outer fringes of the sleeping herd.

  “The cattle are resting quietly,” Curly commented. “They’ll continue resting if you sing to them. There’s something about a cowboy’s singing that soothes cattle. Coyotes are howling east of here—they probably won’t bother the cattle too much. But a panther snarled in those trees, and that might spook them, so keep your eyes open.”

  A half-waning moon gave light and a soft summer breeze was blowing in from the south. What a wonderful night; if only I had a pretty girl to share it with. Ty’s time on duty passed without incident. Hermano relieved him at two in the morning, and Ty hurried to his bedroll hoping to get a few hours sleep.

  Chapter 9

  As Sam had predicted, they reached the Red River in about a week. The cowboys all expected to push right on across, but Sam said, “Bed’em down here, boys. We’ll let’em rest for the night and cross’em in the morning.”

  The call for breakfast came while it was still dark. They had their usual strong black coffee, bacon, biscuits, and gravy. The men sat cross-legged on the ground and ate. Then they saddled their horses and were on the job by daylight, knowing it was going to be a big day.

  “Ty, you and Gabe come with me. We’ll look for a safe place to cross. Gabe, when the crossing starts, I want you on the other side, counting the cattle. You’ll miss a few, but your count will be close enough. We’re going to lose some cows while crossing, and I need an estimate of how many.”

  “Sam,” Ty said, “last night when I walked upstream to wash up, I noticed that the riverbanks were not too steep and the sand in the bottom was solid, so maybe that would be a good place to cross.”

  “Let’s take a look,” Sam said.

  A sandy slope led down to the river with a wide valley on the other side.

  “The banks look good,” Sam agreed. “Let’s check the riverbed for quicksand. Leave your horses here, and we’ll wade across. Ty, you check for quicksand about fifty yards upstream—Gabe, you check fifty yards downstream. Now remember, if you feel the bottom give way, fall over on your face and wiggle out like a snake. Carry a rope with you, but leave your guns here. If any of us get into trouble, the others will thr
ow us a rope to pull us out.”

  “I don’t feel so good about this,” Gabe admitted.

  In an assuring tone, Sam replied, “You won’t sink if you lie over on your belly, and I’ll double your pay if we lose you in the sand.”

  “Thanks a bunch,” Gabe chuckled as he waded into the river.

  They began crossing cautiously.

  “This water is discolored by the red sand,” Ty called out.

  “Yeah, that’s where the Red River got its name,” Gabe answered.

  When they were about halfway across, Sam yelled, “The bottom is solid here!”

  They all made it across and met in Indian Territory.

  “Cattle have a tendency to drift downstream in a crossing. We’d better check a little farther down,” Sam said.

  * * *

  Past the bend in the river an eddy had formed.

  “That eddy looks suspicious. I think I’ll check it out. You men get ready with your ropes,” Sam said. He waded in and when he got to the edge of the eddy, stopped and said, “This doesn’t look good.” Slowly he moved forward. Suddenly, he dropped out of sight.

  “Sam!” Ty yelled as he grabbed a piece of driftwood and ran to the edge of the eddy. He could see Sam just below the surface, struggling to free himself. Ty attached his lariat to the driftwood and pushed the end of the driftwood with the rope attached to where Sam could reach it. Ty saw Sam grab the rope and put it over his head and shoulders. “Pull!” Ty yelled. He and Gabe pulled hard, but they couldn’t budge Sam. The sand had already settled around him. Ty jumped into the sand and began stomping up and down, trying to get the sand back into a solution. They had to free Sam from the sand so that he could get his head above water. “Pull!” Ty yelled again. “If we don’t free him soon, we’re going to lose him!” Slowly, Sam began to move. They got him out, but he was unconscious.

  “Maybe I can revive him,” Gabe said. “I’ve worked on drowning victims before.”

  After only a few tries, Sam coughed. Gabe smiled and said, “He’s going to be fine. Ty, tell the men what happened, and I’ll stay here with Sam until he can make it on his own.”

  “Good idea,” Ty said, as he started back across the tested portion of the river. When he reached camp, the men were milling around not knowing what to do. Pointing to four men Ty said, “You men come with me. The rest of you bring the cattle. We’ll cross upstream from that knoll. You four will mark the boundaries for the crossing. Don’t let the cattle drift downstream—there’s some bad quicksand down there.” When Ty and the men reached the crossing, Ty said, “The river bottom has been tested up to that big cottonwood tree to the left and downstream to that pecan tree on the right. We gotta keep them within that area for the crossing.” The men driving the wagons and the remuda were behind Ty.

  “Follow me,” Ty said, as he rode his stallion into the river. It hadn’t rained for a while and the river was shallow, so the wagons and the remuda made it across with only a little trouble.

  “Gabe,” Ty called out, “can you leave Sam long enough to make your count? We’re bringing’em across.”

  “Go ahead, Gabe,” Sam coughed. “I’ll be fine.”

  As they crossed, some of the men had to bunch the cattle that had already crossed to keep them from straying, while the rest of the men continued driving the herd. There was no time for a noon meal, but the cooks were busy preparing the evening meal. By mid-afternoon, Sam was on his horse watching the finish of the crossing. When the last animal crossed, Gabe called out the number. They had lost only five cows.

  “That was a fine job, men,” Sam said. “This crossing will go down in the records as one of the best ever executed. Give a salute to Ty, a man new to the cattle business. Thank you, Ty, I owe you my life and my herd. Now, let’s eat. We’ll have a drink after supper to celebrate.”

  * * *

  When the sun came up the following morning, it shone down on a herd moving north into Indian Territory. The grass was good and there was plenty of water.

  “What happened back there in that sand?” Ty asked. “Why didn’t your method of survival work?”

  “It was an unusual situation for quicksand,” Sam said. “The water was too deep on top of the sand. I lay over, but my feet had already gotten caught in the sand. If I hadn’t lain over, you would never have been able to see me. It was a lucky thing for me that you had the presence of mind to tie the rope to that driftwood—otherwise, you would never have been able to get the rope to me.”

  “I was wondering if that could have been avoided if we had used a pole to poke the sand in front of us as we waded in the river,” Ty asked.

  “I don’t know, but it’s a good idea, and we’ll try it when we get to the South Canadian River. That river is almost as bad for quicksand as the Red. You sure got a head on your shoulders, Ty,” Sam said. “Things are going good, but we mustn’t get careless. A dozen things can happen to a herd in Indian Territory and all of them bad, so keep your eyes open.”

  * * *

  The herd crossed open land for several days. It was now moving into country with lots of creeks, rocky hills, and deep canyons.

  Late one afternoon, they spotted a band of about fifty Indians on a ridge. The Indians showed no tendency to attack. They just sat on their horses and watched.

  “Why aren’t they attacking? There are sure plenty of them,” Shorty asked.

  “They don’t need to attack to get what they want,” Sam replied. “They don’t want the whole herd; they only want a few animals for food. They’re lined up like that for our benefit. They hope to spook us with their numbers. They’ve probably been following us for several days and know exactly how many men we have.”

  “Well, if their intention is to scare us, it’s working,” Shorty remarked. “They’ve scared me. What do you think they’re going to do?”

  “If we don’t allow ourselves to be intimidated by their numbers and let them take a few animals, they’ll stampede the herd tonight and take all they want before we can get the herd rounded up,” Sam explained.

  “We’re bound to lose some animals in a stampede. Why don’t we give them five or ten cows and save ourselves the trouble of having to round up the herd?” Gabe asked.

  “That would seem to be a logical solution, but it won’t work,” Sam said. “Indians think differently than we do. If they get the idea that we’re afraid of them, they’ll lose respect for us and they’ll attack. We’ll kill a few of them, and they’ll probably kill a few of us; then they’ll take what they want and scatter the rest to hell and gone.”

  “We passed a canyon back there that will hold this whole herd,” Ty said. “They can’t stampede the herd in a canyon. There’s no place for the cows to run. We can guard the mouth of it by using the boulders as cover.”

  “I think that’ll work,” Sam agreed. “Men, drive the cows into the canyon.”

  * * *

  Before dark, the animals were secure.

  “How long do you think we’ll have to wait?” Pete asked.

  “We can stay here several days if we have to,” the cook chimed in. “There’s good water in this canyon. We can stay as long as the cows have grass.”

  “I don’t think we’ll have to be here that long,” Ty remarked.

  “We can deal with the Indians from a position of strength. I don’t know much about Indians, but I know a little about men. If we talk to them, we could work out something that would be agreeable to all of us. Is there anyone here who can speak their language?”

  A sandy-haired young cowboy stepped forward. “The Comanche took me captive when I was a kid, and I learned to speak their language. A few years later, the Rangers rescued me.”

  “Will you serve as an interpreter while Ty and I try to work something out?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll go with you, but you’d better understand that none of us will be coming back if this doesn’t work.”

  “Maybe we should all go,” Gabe said.

  “Nah, that won�
��t work,” Sandy replied. “They’d see that as an attack. We’d beat them in a fight because we got guns, but we’d lose some men in the process. They know that, and that’s why a powwow might work.”

  “When do you think would be a good time to try to talk to them?” Sam asked. “How about tonight?”

  “We couldn’t get in there tonight,” Sandy responded. “They’ll have sentries posted. Tomorrow at daybreak would be the best time.”

  “Won’t they have sentries posted tomorrow morning?” Ty asked.

  “They’ll have sentries posted, but they’ll see that we want to talk. I think they’ll talk or I wouldn’t be going with you. This is a very dangerous thing we’re doing,” Sandy remarked.

  “We all better sleep with our boots on, and with one eye open,” Sam said. “Tomorrow morning, Ty, Sandy, and I will try to talk to them. If we don’t get back, Gabe, you’ll be in charge of getting the herd through.”

  * * *

  Just after sunrise, the three men rode to the Indian encampment. Sam held his right hand up as a sign of peace. The sentries let them pass. A tall Indian who looked to be about forty years old met them. “He’s old for a warrior,” Ty muttered.

  The old warrior had three younger men with him all wearing feathers, obviously expecting the visit. The older Indian motioned for them to sit. They sat in a semi-circle. Ty had his rifle across his lap, and he shifted his pistol so he could get to it easily. The Indians noted the movement. Ty was pleased that they had noticed because he wanted them to know that one or more of them would die if they tried anything. The situation was tense.

  Sam opened the powwow with a question. Sandy translated:

  “What do you want?”

  “We want beef.”

  A direct answer required a direct response. “How many?”

  The old Indian held up ten fingers.