It sounded rather simple to Bess, but then he said, “The really good bucking horses fool you. They know what you’re doing. They put their head in one direction, then go the other. We don’t have any of those here.”
Calf roping was pretty simple, but fun to watch. They would take a calf and hold him, then let him go and hope that he would run straight ahead. Some of them didn’t; they just stood there, and when that happened, everyone laughed. Others would dash off straight ahead and then the cowboy would chase it and try to rope it. Sometimes they were successful and sometimes they were not. The really funny ones were those calves who didn’t cooperate and started to run straight ahead, but then would dart off in another direction or completely turn around and start running the other way.
The rodeo—if you could call it that—was fun, but Marion slept through most of it except when Doc would come by to chat. Afterwards, they held a social gathering right in the middle of the street in town. Everyone could get something to eat from the food that members of the audience had brought for all to share. It had been a great day in Haley. Life on the prairie is good. Thought Bess.
When Bess and Doc got back to the homestead, they noticed some activity down in the southwest corner. They had left the sheep in the fenced- in pasture, and there were a couple of coyotes that had killed one of their older lambs. While Bess hated coyotes because they killed farm animals, she had respect for them. They had been there first. They had already been there well before any homesteaders arrived, and they were doing what an animal did out of instinct: hunt for food and kill so they could eat.
Coyotes were very smart animals and sometimes they hunted together. They seemed to learn from one another, and homesteaders knew they were always watching the herds of sheep, which were easy prey and a good meal for them and their pups. About the only way you could get rid of coyotes was to shoot them, but they were very wily and never let a human get too close.
Some homesteaders tried to set traps for them, but those were generally ineffective against those smart animals. Bess had heard that there were three-legged coyotes, those who had been caught in a steel trap and then chewed the trapped leg off to get away. Doc said he had seen one a few years back.
Doc went inside the house and came out with the 30-30 rifle, but by the time he started down toward them, the coyotes had already run off. What was left of the sheep was mostly the hindquarters, so Doc brought the carcass back to the homestead and severed the hind legs because they had been untouched and could be used by the family.
“Not much sense in letting good food go to waste,” Doc said. He took the remainder of the mutilated carcass and buried it down in the pasture by the corner of the fence. The loss of one sheep didn’t hurt Doc and Bess because now they had over one hundred head. But the coyote experience was a lesson learned, and from then on they would never leave the homestead with sheep in the pasture unattended.
Bess had a developed a ritual. Every week she enjoyed walking up the hill behind the buildings and adding another flat rock to the stone Johnnie, and ensuring that what she had built was stable. Bismarck always accompanied her up the hill and seemed to like raising his leg to pee on it-- ownership of some sort, and marking it to show any other animal that might come near that it belonged to him. Bess would stand by the stone Johnnie and look at the land. In early September, it was a beautiful tan color of prairie grass growing in all directions, with plenty of strips of harvested wheat and flax.
The landscape had changed slightly over the two years she had lived here, and the number of grain fields had increased considerably. In the late spring or early summer when she would stand on the hill, she loved to see the blue-flowering flax and alfalfa fields. Now and then she would look toward the west and think of Miles City and Linda, and an occasional pang of grief would pass through her body. She wondered about Martha—what she was doing and if she and Don were happy with the family business in Wisconsin. But her life on the homestead was good and she was happy. Doc was an excellent partner—affectionate, hard-working, and a good father to Marion. She enjoyed being married, as being married made her feel secure and she loved having Doc as a companion.
Bess also enjoyed being a mother to Marion. She wondered how growing up on a ranch would affect her. Will Marion take after me and like working with her hands? What will she be like when she is older? Bess wondered. She hoped that whatever she became, she would be adventurous and confident in her life.
Early in the fall, Bess and Doc sold some of the sheep. They had purchased about forty ewes from a homesteader that had decided to give up on his land, so they now had a reasonably sized herd of one hundred and forty. Bess had heard that more than half of the homesteaders would not prove up on their land, because they incurred debts--mainly from purchasing equipment for grain farming--and didn’t make enough money to cover their loans. Some just were not good managers of their homesteads and let expenses get out of hand. Others simply didn’t like the hard work that was required; maybe they hadn’t thought about all the challenging work that would be in store for them. And still others just didn’t choose the right piece of property that would fit the kind of farming or ranching that they wanted to do.
Doc also sold about two dozen work horses. “The business is starting to soften--the tractors and automobiles.” He looked worried. “I think there’s still a market for horses, particularly good saddle horses. I’m going to keep about a hundred.” He gazed into the distance, a frown creasing his forehead. “I wish it was sensible to keep more of ’em. I’ve been raising horses for so long….”
“Well, it’s not as if you have to give them up entirely,” Bess said.
“I know,” Doc agreed, and tried to smile. “Anyhow, I think there’ll always be a demand for good saddle horses.”
Bes hoped he was right.
In late September, Bess started to smoke cigarettes. She knew that not many women smoked, but she also knew that she wasn’t just any woman. If you could manage a homestead, she thought, you could also smoke.
She started with one Lucky Strike from a package Doc had bought in town. He’d lit it up for her and asked her to try it. His smile almost seemed sinister. At first Bess didn’t like it, but she soon found herself wanting another. Eventually cigarette smoking became a habit.
Mama never smoked, but Bess remembered that Papa always enjoyed his pipe and liked chewing tobacco. He always had a small tin of Copenhagen snuff. He would put a little lump of it between his cheek and gum and occasionally would turn away and spit. He always spat outside the house, because Mama wouldn’t let him do it inside. He told her one time that he was going to get a spittoon, but that idea didn’t last but a moment as Mama flatly told him, “No!”
A pack of Lucky Strikes (“Luckies” as they were called) cost ten cents. Doc said that buying the tobacco and rolling your own was cheaper, so he bought some Bull Durham, which came in a small white bag with a string so you could pull it closed, and some cigarette paper. He showed Bess how to roll her own cigarettes--he could do it with one hand. Bess eventually learned how to do it. It took some time, but eventually Bess became adept at rolling her own—but not with one hand.
Bess was pleased when the Watkins Products salesman, Mr. Hale, came to Haley for the first time. In Cando, the Watkins man—she could never remember his name--would stop by their house once a month and Mama would usually buy pepper, vanilla, and some other spices. Those products were excellent, and Bess was delighted that she now could get them easily, and even happier because she could afford them! On one occasion, Mr. Hale showed her some of the nectars they offered, so she bought one. You mixed it with water and it made a very nice and refreshing drink. Bess liked it—Doc didn’t—but she kept buying a little bit anyway for herself.
Marion was a healthy child and very cheerful. She didn’t cry much at night, and for that Bess was grateful. Mama had told her that Bess often kept her up nearly all night when she was that age. Bess had brought a heavy shawl from Cando; she sewed parts
of it together and fashioned a sling into which she could put the child by putting the sling around her neck and over her shoulders. It was similar to the slings she had seen the Indian women use, which she thought very clever. It was secure and there was no risk of Marion falling out when Bess would ride Annabel into town with the sling holding the little girl safely.
In November, Bess and Doc had some major luck, while two farmers had severe misfortunes. Doc came home shortly after noon after stopping at the bank and speaking to Elmer Thune, the bank president, with whom Bess and Doc did their business.
“Bess,” he said, “just talked to Elmer Thune. He said that there are a couple farmers who are giving up on their land. Guess they can’t make their payments. One has a full section just east of us and the other has a full section just south of it.”
Bess knew that banks were usually apt to contact successful homesteaders or land owners who were on adjacent properties because acquiring adjacent land could make sense both to the purchaser and to the bank.
“Elmer’s coming out here later. I told him we might be interested. Said he’ll be here around three o’clock.”
Bess greeted Mr. Thune as he rode up to the house promptly at three.
“Afternoon, Bess,” said the banker.
“Good afternoon,” returned Bess. “Come inside. I’ll get Doc—he’s out in the corral.”
After Doc came inside to join them, Mr. Thune told them about the two properties, and asked if they were interested. Elmer always wore a black suit and a matching derby hat that was a half size too small. He always looked like he was busy and in a hurry. Bess could see that the properties would fit well with what they currently had. Doc and Bess agreed to come to the bank the next day and finalize the deal.
Doc and Bess went to the bank in Haley early the next morning and Mr. Thune agreed to let them purchase both properties at a very low price. Within two days, Bess’s property had grown from a 160-acre homestead to 1,440 acres. 1,280 acres were entirely their own—not dependent on proving up on the land. About one hundred acres on each of the two properties had been plowed and sown with flax. The remaining acreage was fine grassland. The land was put in Bess’s name only because her homestead could be used as security, as well as the land they acquired. Bess and Doc had confidence that the loan was well within their means--and what they could earn from their expanded herd of sheep, as well as sales of Doc’s horses, would enable them to pay it off within a couple of years.
They wouldn’t be able to take advantage of their newly acquired property until the following spring, but they enjoyed talking about the possibilities of what they could do.
“We’ll get some cattle. Good land, plenty of grass and water. One of the sections is fully fenced in, with access to a fine well, and the other section has a rather large stock dam with plenty of water.”
Doc and Bess celebrated that evening with a nice pheasant dinner, and counted their blessings. Even Marion seemed to understand that something very good had happened. She smiled and laughed all evening.
Chapter Thirty
In February, while the snowdrifts were still deep, Bess learned that she was pregnant again. The inevitability of a second child made Bess wonder just how much she would be able to do around the homestead once she was the mother to two growing children. She knew Doc would be pleased, though.
She was right--Doc took the news of Bess’s pregnancy by giving her a big hug and kiss. “Maybe a boy this time, Bess?” he said with a smile.
“Sure,” Bess said. “Like ordering one from Ward’s wish book! Maybe we’ll order two!” Bess laughed at her own joke. Maybe two? I’m becoming a housewife, she thought, and felt her heart sink. This wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she filed for her land claim. She felt a sudden longing for the lonely days before she married Doc, even though she loved her daughter, and would surely love the new baby just as much.
Bess was always attentive to Marion and was able to do her work effectively around the place while keeping a close eye on the small child. She knew that Bismarck was an excellent watchdog and very possessive of Marion. He would always lie close to her when Marion slept and loved to lick her face, which made Marion laugh hysterically. Being a mother was harder than she imagined—Not only do you have to feed and clothe them, she thought, you have to be attentive. And there would be so much to do around the place with the additional land and the possibility of acquiring cattle. Not in my plan, she thought, but I’ll learn to live with it. Even enjoy it!
Doc recognized the increased burden on Bess, so in late summer he hired a sheepherder, Jim Edgar. Jim was an older man, slightly balding, slim, and walked with a limp, which was the result of a wound he had received while fighting in the Civil War. He was probably in his seventies and sometimes used a crooked walking stick that looked like an old tree branch, but he knew how to tend to the sheep.
Doc bought an old covered wagon that had been used by one of the early settlers, so it needed some work. He and Ken replaced the hickory bows at the top and put on as a cover a double layer of new heavy-duty canvas. They closed the front end of the wagon completely and modified the rear of the wagon to provide easy access.
Ken put in two long planks on one side of the wagon box for a bed and installed a small stove near the front of the wagon with an exhaust to the outside. He also built a couple of small cabinets for storage of food and whatever supplies Jim might need.
The wagon was on wheels so it could be moved from pasture to pasture as needed. It was easy for one horse to pull, so long as the wagon was empty. After only a couple of days of work, Doc and Ken had converted what used to be known as a “prairie schooner” into a full-fledged “sheep wagon.” It didn’t look like the wagons settlers used in wagon trains when they trekked west, but Bess could tell that it originally had been one of those. The wagon was where Jim Edgar would stay and sleep as he herded the sheep and protected them from coyotes.
Marion was now a toddler. She was very cute and happy, laughed a lot, loved to eat, and she didn’t make a fuss when wearing the little dresses Bess had made for her. She had light-brown curly hair and was perpetually smiling. Mama had made three dresses for her and sent them to Bess in September. Two of the dresses looked like they had been made from those that she had left back in Cando, and Bess smiled at the thought of the fun Mama must have had while making them. They were much nicer and far fancier than those Bess had tried to make with her limited sewing skills. Papa taught me more about being a rancher than Mama did about being a housewife or seamstress, thought Bess.
Housewife. Bess didn’t like that idea. She still considered herself to be a rancher. And she could still do the work, except that by September she had grown pretty large with the coming baby. Boy or girl? she wondered. Some of the women in town claimed they could tell the sex of a baby from how an expectant mother was carrying it, but she wasn’t interested in that nonsense. She would find out soon enough.
Doc still had horses over at his homestead and spent about three days a week tending to their needs. He sold forty horses in early September, mostly the working horses, all Percherons. The sale enabled Bess and Doc to pay off their bank loan for the purchase of the two sections of land. They were now debt-free.
While the sale of the horses resulted in positive financial results, Doc’s personality faded, as he became more quiet and subdued. Bess knew that he loved raising horses and she sensed that he was becoming more and more disappointed that one of the main loves in his life—maybe the most important love in his life, she thought—was slowly drifting in a downward spiral toward only a shell of what it used to be. She knew it bothered him deeply because the cheerfulness he had always presented outwardly seemed to be gone. But when she tried to talk about it, Doc became silent or simply changed the subject.
Bess and Doc also bought forty head of cattle in early September from another homesteader who was abandoning his homestead. It was rather sad to see people fail to prove up on their land, but in another way
it was an opportunity for them to acquire livestock at a very low price. We’re now cattle and sheep ranchers, thought Bess.
The cattle they purchased were Hereford heifers, young cows who had not yet had calves. The Hereford was a hardy breed of beef cattle known to thrive in the area. They were large and were a dark rust color, with white faces and white underbellies. Their disposition was good and most of the settlers around Haley, including those who came before the wave of homesteaders, had Herefords. The Lees, who lived over near the Teepee Buttes, had a Hereford bull and agreed that Bess and Doc could use the bull for breeding for the last three weeks of September, which meant that those heifers who became pregnant would be due to deliver in late June or early July of next year. That suited Doc and Bess fine because it would come after lambing time.
On October 14, 1911, baby Helen was born!
She was a beautiful little girl who arrived screaming and was very healthy. Bess had no problems with the delivery, and the midwife, Mrs. Poppe, was with her. Doc was tending to Marion and seemed excited about holding his second baby girl, but Bess could sense a bit of disappointment in Doc because he so much wanted to have a boy.
Marion seemed excited about the new “bubba,” as she called Helen. She didn’t seem jealous and always wanted to see her up close. Marion was too small to hold Helen, but she loved to look at the baby and touch her.
Helen was a noisy child and seemed to enjoy being awake in the middle of the night. Doc started to spend less time with his horses and seemed contented enough being a cattleman. He loved the two little girls -- always being affectionate to Marion, and holding Helen.
With fewer horses to tend to, Doc spent only a couple days a week at his place and more time at Bess’s homestead. He avoided the subject of the horse business. Clearly it’s bothering him, thought Bess. But he seemed to be trying to mobilize his energy about the coming change from being a horseman to a cattle and sheep rancher. He spent time talking with Bess about the ranch, how well they seemed to be doing, and his plans for the cattle. “Wonder how many calves we’ll get in the spring,” he said. “Could get twenty or thirty if we’re lucky.” He smiled.
Bess: A Pioneer Woman's Journey of Courage, Grit and Love Page 21