Montana Madness

by Sioux Dallas

  “I’m sorry that you lost Chaska Magi. I could not get back for the funeral. He was one of the best.”

  “He sure was and I’ll always love him. He was called Mike around here.”

  “Come on. Mount up and I’ll see you back home.”

  “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. I see two of the guard dogs coming for me. Someone must have awakened and discovered that my horse was gone. They will worry about me, especially in this storm. Please come for a visit soon. Juanita would love to see you.”

  “Thank you. I will. Try to get over and visit with my parents. I know they would enjoy seeing you and talk about good times of the past.”

  * * * * *

  Ginger rode in to face a frightened and angry Hank with several ranch hands. “What’s going on? Why did you foolishly go out in the dark in this storm without rousing some of us to go with you?” Hank demanded.

  “Someone was in the barn tonight and it wasn’t a friend. I don’t know how he got past the guard dogs, but he hit me and knocked me down. The dogs were so upset that I rode out to check on the horses and the mustangs, and it’s a good thing I did.” She told them what had happened.

  One of the ranch hands had taken War Shield in and wiped him down before placing him in his stall. The man came out with a piece of raw meat in his hand. “Here’s why the dogs didn’t attack. Someone brought meat with them and I can bet it had a sleeping medicine on it.”

  Hank was so angry that he paced furiously and barked orders. “Juan take two men with you and go check on the horses and the mustangs. Merika keep someone with you and bed down here in the barn for the rest of the night. Tomorrow I’ll assign regular duties.”

  He turned to Ginger. “Young lady, I know you’re technically the boss, but I want you to go back inside. Take a hot shower and dress in dry clothes and stay inside until morning.” She meekly acquiesced knowing Hank was concerned for her safety.

  Juanita had been awakened and was concerned. “What is going on, little one? Why are you so wet and muddy?”

  “Juanita, darling, I haven’t been a little one for almost twenty years. Let me get dry and dress and I’ll be down to tell you all about it. Do you have hot mint tea and some of your delicious egg toast?”

  “You know I do. I’ll get everything ready. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

  Ginger was thankful for Juanita. She had been with the family since her birth because her mother had been the housekeeper for the grandparents and then for Ginger’s parents. Juanita’s mother had died three years ago at age ninety-one. Juanita was considered a family member. Ginger knew she loved her and was concerned for her safety. She was only six years older than Ginger but they had grown up together.

  In about twenty minutes, Ginger was back in the kitchen gratefully accepting the tea and egg toast. She told Juanita all that had happened.

  “Oh, did you know Tokala Deerhunter is home?”

  “I knew he had come home to help his mother. He is a very good man. He only had an older sister, Marlene, who is now an ADA (assistant district attorney) in Iowa. She’s married and I can’t remember when she’s been back here. She’s fourteen years older than Tokala.”

  Ginger had too much on her mind to go back to sleep. It would be time to get up and start working in about two hours. Six o’clock came around whether one was ready for it or not.

  She wanted to do her chores as quickly as possible and then ride out in daylight to see where the thieves had come on her property. Too, she wanted to check on the mustangs and assure herself that they were all right. Some of the very old might have been hurt. The very young could have easily been hurt crowded among the frightened larger horses.

  Hank had ridden out before dawn. He and two ranch hands had found the cut fence and repaired it. They also checked the favorite watering hole of the herd to make sure there was no trap set. He was angry because of the careless treatment of the innocent animals and what the end results might have been. He felt that Ginger didn’t deserve the aggregation.

  Ginger decided to let War Shield rest, so she saddled Dakota Joe and took him out. She was ashamed of herself to be annoyed at Hank for getting out in the mustang pasture before she did. She knew she should be grateful, but she hoped to find a clue as to who was on her property uninvited. Hank was a welcome sight as she quickly rode to him.

  “Hey, Hank. Find anything that will help us?”

  “No. It’s strange how they can come all over the property and there are no clues anywhere.”

  “We’ll keep searching and hopefully come up with something in a few days. Was there anything in the barn that would give us a clue?”

  “No. My guess is they’re wearing gloves and plastic bags on their boots to leave no prints in the barn. These are men who have had some well-thought out training and I bet there’s a big boss in the picture.”

  “Shades of the old west. Grandfather will be turning in his grave. I’m going to report this to the sheriff and to the BLM. I know you don’t want me to be involved, but this property has been in my family at least one hundred years. I owe it to my ancestors to do all within my power to protect it and all that’s on it. I’m sorry my mother lost three babies before they were born. I sure could use a sibling to help me now.”

  “I’m going to assign night patrol for a while. In the meantime I’m going to think of some way of identifying stolen mustangs. I know you don’t approve of branding, Ginger, but we need to mark the mustangs in some manner so they can be identified.” Hank was so angry he was gnashing his teeth.

  “Yes, you’re right,” she said with a sigh. We’ll have a planning session about this later when we both have time. In the meantime, I’ll contact BLM and discuss it with them. I’m going back now and train some of the boarder’s horses. After all, I’ve gotta earn what they’re paying me. See you later. Thank you, men,” she called to the hands as she rode off.

  Ginger worked and trained four horses for boarders. When she broke late for lunch, she had to admit how tired she was. Instead of riding in the afternoon, she decided to work some of the young horse on a lunge line. She not only taught voice commands but hands signals as well.

  She was working with a very obstinate two year old when she saw a movement in her peripheral vision. With a startled gasp, she whirled around and was relieved to see James Deerhunter.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I don’t want to interfere with the training of that beauty. He’s Quarter Thoroughbred isn’t he. Is he one of yours?”

  “No, he’s a boarder, but I would gladly claim him any day. He has a determined mind of his own, but, when he’s completed his training, he’ll be worth a fortune. Look at those lines. Have you ever seen a better put together horse?”

  “He has great lines. Do you know his breeding?”

  “Sure. He’s by Rocking Fellow out of Affectionately Mine and is a direct line of Top Deck. He’s going to be great at halter and conformation as well as performance. I hope to take him in halter next month in the Horse Show and Rodeo at St. Ignatius. I have about half a dozen that I’d like to make the show part of their training. I’m going to have to find some young people who are willing to learn how to care for horses and show them properly. I can’t afford to pay a large sum, but I’ll give free riding lessons and a nominal salary.”

  “More power to you. I think you’re a woman of the future. Is there something I can do to help? And you won’t have to pay me. St. Ignatius? When did they start having shows and rodeos?”

  “Not too long ago. They’re a surprisingly very modern city even though they are mostly on the Flathead Indian Reservation. I love going there to shop because it’s only seven miles from my house and I can usually find all I want or need. Otherwise, I go to Billings.”

  “Okay Ginger, help me out here. I’ve been there, of course, but not in several years. What’s going on there?”

  “Well, it is in Lake County and was established in about 1854 in Mission Valley by Jesuit Priests. T
he town was named after Saint Ignatius Loyola. In it was the first residence school for Native American children, the first hospital and the first saw mill. Indians and missionaries worked together to build the beautiful mission church which is a tourist attraction. Friar Joseph Carignano painted some gorgeous murals on the interior walls. They are worth a trip just to see them.”

  “Is the population only Indian now?”

  “The majority is. It’s about eighty per cent Indian with Salish, Kootenal and Flathead Indians. There are a lot of German speaking Amish farmers who make excellent neighbors. The horse show and rodeo is to earn money to support a retirement and nursing home for seniors. There is a Senior Citizens Community Center for social gatherings and meetings. Tim Ryan, the country singer, is a resident and Diane Sands in House of Representatives, was born there.”

  “Fascinating,” he said with a grin. “No, seriously, that’s wonderful. So it’s a small but growing town. I understand.”

  “Grandfather was active in the Cattlemen’s Association that met in St. Ignatius and everyone knew him and liked him.”

  “I can believe that. He was a man worth knowing; honest, hard-working, reliable, and determined to make this a better place for everyone.”

  “James, since you left, there have been some farmers trying the new organic farming. They even have a farmers’ market now. People come from all around to buy and sightsee.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. This is a thriving community then.”

  “Oh, yes. The Indians on the Flathead Reservation are much better off than those on other reservations because the soil is great for raising crops and feeding animals on the natural grasses. They are not poverty stricken as others are. There are lots of trout in the waters for food.’”

  “So there’s plenty to eat and work to do.’

  “That’s correct. A source of amusement for the tourists is the name of the county seat of Lake County. It’s named Poison after David Poison, one of the earlier settlers. There are more women than men, and the average income has been listed as thirty-four thousand a year. The Salish Kootenal College attracts a lot of people because of its great rating.”

  “It seems as if the place as taken off into the wild blue yonder while I was away. I’m proud to be part of this community.”

  “Me, too. Juanita’s mother actually raised me. Juanita and I grew up together even though she’s six years older. Her mother died three years ago and Juanita, thankfully, decided to stay on. Hank and the men have been my guardian angels and I’m so blessed to have all of them.”

  “I know. I’m thankful, too, for your sake. Well, if I can’t help, I’ll go.”

  Chapter Three

  The following Friday, Ginger and Hank attended the bimonthly meeting of The Cattlemen’s Association at the north end of Third Avenue near Airport Road.

  Alan Barker, owner of the Double B cattle ranch, had been elected president of the Association. He called the meeting to order and then welcomed everyone. He called attention to Ginger and gave her a warm welcome as representative of her beloved grandfather. Hank reminded them that she was now the only owner.

  Alan then asked Lisa Swift, Secretary and Treasurer, to read the minutes of the last meeting. Ginger was shocked to hear of the number of cattle missing and mustangs stolen from various properties. She knew Lisa was the wife of Dave Swift and they owned the Circle S Guest Ranch (Dude Ranch). They had reported their guests being shot at while on trail rides through the mustang areas.

  Belinda Mercer, wife of Sheriff Brandon Mercer, had reported that her husband had contacted the Reservation Police and the National Park Rangers for cooperation. It wasn’t just in their area. There were thieves in many surrounding states. Belinda assisted Lisa when necessary.

  Barry Morton and his wife, Glenda, owners of the Rocking M, had expressed appreciation for the Sheriff and all the law officers. They pointed out that this was a large area and the officers could not cover everything at once. Ranchers would have to do their part and patrol their own property.

  There were no corrections to the minutes, so Alan asked for new business.

  Daniel Grey Wolfe stood with his arm and shoulder bandaged and his arm in a sling. He reported that during the week, some men had gotten bolder and came in closer to his house where his wife and children were. He and his men had fired at them only after the intruders opened fire on Daniel and his men. His horse had been shot dead and fell on him.

  Roy Service, owner of the Elk Run Ranch, Vice President of the Association, suggested that everyone hire more hands and patrol better. Several talked at once stating they could not afford to hire more hands. Ginger sat quietly, knowing she couldn’t afford to hire more.

  James stood, and was warmly welcomed. He said a list of ranchers, phone numbers, addresses, and how to get in touch should be distributed to everyone. Then if a rancher had trouble, the nearest neighbor could be called for help or alerted to trouble. His suggestion was approved and Lisa and Belinda promised to get that done as quickly as possible.

  There was no more business, so the meeting was adjourned. There were refreshments for those who wanted to stay and socialize. It was difficult for the ranchers, and their families, to get together much, so they enjoyed this time together.

  Ginger was pensive on the way home. Hank was quiet because he wanted to think. They could not afford to hire more hands and the men they now had were working overtime. The human body could stand just so much. What could be done?

  Juanita had waited up anxiously for Ginger, wanting to hear about what had been discussed. She was heart sick knowing that Ginger didn’t have much ready cash. All ranchers had land, machinery and animals, but very little actual money. They would just have to keep praying and keep their minds on what was going on around them so that a law breaker could not sneak up on them.

  * * * * *

  Hank was worried because Ginger was working shoulder to shoulder with the men and doing far too much. His heart ached for her. She is young and should be having a good time with others her age. She’ll make a top notch wife and excellent mother, but she won’t stand a chance if she continues to work so hard here on the ranch.

  The Proudfoot and the Deerhunters had about the same number of hands. They each trusted all their workers but the men could just do so much without breaking down. James was afraid the younger hands would get discouraged and leave to find work in other areas, and he could not afford to neglect his parents’ property to help Ginger.

  For the first time Ginger noticed how white Hank’s hair had gotten. I don’t know how old he is. I do know he’s worked for the Proudfoot for at least twenty-five years or more. I’m very fond of Hank and just accepted him as part of the family. I need to find time to go over the papers for all the hands and learn more about them.

  “Hank, how long have you been foreman here?”

  “I started out as a hand and your grandfather asked me to be his foreman thirty-two years ago. Frank Royce has been here about twenty-five years and will step in if something happens to me.”

  Ginger reached up to the six-three man who had been a handsome man in his youth and still was. She hugged him and said, “Hank, don’t, please don’t talk about anything happening to you. I couldn’t stand it. I know you were married. Don’t you have children?”

  “My precious wife died very young with breast cancer. Our three children grew up and left here. My oldest, a girl, married an attorney who has now entered politics and they don’t have time for anything or anyone else. They live in California and I rarely hear from them. My two youngest, boys, were both killed in service. You’re the only child I have.”

  Ginger fought the tears and hugged him again. She ran to the barn and got her equipment to work the horses. She was pleased with a rangy fifteen hand buckskin and thought he was going to make an excellent cutting horse. He could spin on a dime and give change, as the old saying went.

  * * * * *

  Hank could not say why, but he had a feeling th
at they would have unwelcome visitors that night. He and five men rode out to watch over the mustangs. They would take turns sleeping on a bedrolls near the gate.

  Around two that morning, the horses began to get up and snorting in fright, ran one direction then another.

  Hank got his men together and rode out to where the biggest commotion seemed to be. He discovered that a group of men had indeed invaded the property and brought their own Judas horse.

  Billy Carson got excited and, without permission from Hank, started yelling and running in the direction of the intruders. The trespassers opened fire and ran toward them instead of away. Hank knew Billy was twenty one and just now starting the work, so he was understanding of the immature young man. Hank and his men rode to meet the intruders.

  Even though Hank’s men were armed, he had instructed them not to shoot except to defend themselves. His men were angry at the situation and fired back. The horses were frightened and running in all directions. Hank heard one of his men make a sound of hurt and a saw a horse with no rider streak by him. Gunfire from both directions, in the dark, meant that anything could happen.

  Finally the intruders turned and left. Juan called for Hank. No answer. The men hunted frantically. Arturo Rodriguez yelled that Hank was on the ground and had been hit. The men gathered anxiously around him. Where was Buster Mitchell? He was found dead near the gate. It looked as if he was either going for more help or leaving them. They didn’t care which. A buddy was gone and they were angry enough to have a pitched battle.

  Jimbo Boyd rode back to the house to tell Ginger and to call the sheriff and paramedics. Ginger was heartbroken to think of Hank being hurt and Buster dead. She first gritted her teeth to keep from crying in front of her men and then was too angry to hold it in. The hands, in the bunkhouse, who had been asleep, came out and caught horses in the field to ride out to the mustang pasture.