Following the Grass

by Harry Sinclair Drago

  “You hate me so?” Joseph asked.

  Thad glared at him, contempt on his lips.

  “I despise you!” he cried. “You won’t marry her!”

  “Temper blinds you,” said Joseph. “I wonder how you could prevent my marrying your granddaughter if I chose to do so. A word from me and you would not leave this spot to-day. Take some sense unto yourself! You have ever been a rash man. You were the first to accuse my father, and now you do not hesitate to defame me.”

  “I was right about your father, too, wa’n’t I? Maybe that’s why I hate you. And to think of Necia takin’ up with you, knowin’ what she does.”

  “You are make another meestake, as usual, señor!” Andres exclaimed. “Joseph’s father was not on the mountain that night.”

  “Humph! Took you a long time to find that out, didn’t it?”

  “Mebbe I have good reason for not say anytheeng. I shot Kit Dorr.”

  “My God! You?”

  Thad gazed helplessly from one to the other as Andres nodded his head, realizing that he had been the last to learn the secret.

  “Andres speaks the truth,” Necia assured him, her voice tired. “It was so long ago; it cannot matter now. My father shot Timoteo, and Andres shot him. I am afraid it was the sort of thing you always approved of, grandfather.”

  “Maybe it was,” Thad answered sharply when she had finished telling him how her father had died. “Leastwise, a man knew where he stood in those days. Young girls wa’n’t runnin’ off with every Tom, Dick, and Harry. Now you’ve got laws and religion! What’s it done for you?

  “I’m an old man with nothin’ else in the world but you. I been workin’ for you for years; layin’ up a fortune. Now you’re leaving me; the drought is burnin’ up my range. I ain’t got nothin’ left. God!”

  Thad raised his clenched fists to heaven. “I don’t care about the ranch! I can lose it if I have to; but I can’t see you go, Necia. I can’t!” His voice caught in his throat.

  Joseph stared at him with mingled feelings. Necia heard a sigh escape him.

  “You love her so much then?” Joseph asked.

  Thad’s eyes blazed as he fixed them on him.

  “Yes; and it ain’t the kind of love a young fool dressed in rags offers a girl. Your grandpa is a goin’ to take you in now. He’s a goin’ to put a roof over your head. Well, even so, you ain’t done nothin’ to make me believe you’re the kind of a man a girl could depend on. Why’d your father keep away and leave your mother here to starve? The same blood’s in you.”

  Joseph bit his lips at the accusation. Remorse-lessly, he said:

  “You ought to know why my father could not come back. You ordered your men to shoot him on sight. It is idle to deny it. You have no God, but you have set yourself up as one. You have always been quick to judge your fellowmen.

  “I doubt that you love Necia half as much as you think. At least, you shall prove it to me. You despise me, but I will trust you. Because I permit you to, you leave here. Between now and to-morrow noon, you can take whatever steps you choose to prevent me from marrying Necia. That shall rest with you.

  “Listen to my offer: you said you could see your ranch destroyed if Necia were left to you. Only she matters. So be it! I feel that God has appointed me to bring a new life to this country. My own happiness must not stand in the way.

  “No matter how I suffer, I will not fail these men. They have humbled themselves to me. I have sworn to repay them, and I shall. At noon to-morrow I will lead Necia to my grandfather’s house. If you come there prepared to accept these men as your friends, to work with them for the common good—I will go! I will leave here.”

  “Joseph!” Necia cried, and she ran to him. “No! You cannot do this thing! Where you go, I go, too.”

  Joseph drew her to him and they gazed into each other’s eyes longingly.

  “It must be as I have said,” he murmured at last. “I swore to you that I would accept what God sent to me. I will not fail Him nor you, Necia. Let your grandfather do as he will. My mother left a message here on this very spot for me. ‘Above all else,’ she said, ‘be true to yourself.’ If you have found me worthy, Necia, it is because I have been true to myself. Others have sacrificed for me and now I shall accept my rôle without complaint.”

  Necia could not answer for her tears. Joseph raised his hand to Andres.

  “Go, Andres, for your brothers; you, grandfather, to your task; and you, vain man, to your home. To-morrow at noon we shall come to the valley.”

  Minutes passed before the sound of their going died away. A white wind-cloud sailed across the sun. Slippy-foot crawled into the shade of the mesquite leaving Joseph and Necia alone with the grieving Grimm.

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  A SHEPHERD SHALL LEAD THEM.

  THAD did not return to his ranch immediately after leaving Buckskin. In fact, it was evening before Little Billy saw him ride into the ranchyard. Thad had wanted to be alone so that he could think, but such thinking as he had done had not made his course any clearer to him.

  Little Billy offered him food, and food was the last thing in the world that mattered to him now; but he suffered the man to pester him as he never had before. Race Eagan came in for a word about the yearlings he had moved that day. Race had slouched out without waiting for any word from Thad.

  At supper-time his men looked in at him as they went in to eat. Thad thought they were a sullen lot. Surely they knew there was something wrong.

  He wondered if they suspected where Necia was. He could not ask them nor would they question him. They would grumble and mutter among themselves, but at his approach a leaden silence would descend on them.

  After supper they stood about discussing something. Thad saw them glance into the room where he sat—watching them, although he tried not to—and he felt the accusing thought in their eyes. He pulled down the shades before Little Billy lighted the lamps.

  “Going to be a big meeting at the Basque's place to-morrow,” the man announced.

  Thad was too tired to answer, but the cook’s words explained those glances outside his window. The news of Angel’s meeting had come in with a teamster. He wondered what they were saying; he got an echo of their talk immediately for Little Billy, taking Thad’s silence for permission to continue, said:

  “Guess the Circle-Z will be ’bout the only outfit missin’ when the meeting is called.”

  Thad repeated the words to himself. So they knew! Damn the man’s indirection! Why couldn’t he come out and say that they didn’t want him to go to the meeting and exact the price Joseph had set? Thad understood that they were not thinking of their jobs.

  It was Necia they were thinking of. Fools that they were, they would rather see her have Joseph, poor and roofless, than anything he could give her. He felt that he could blame Andres for informing them. It didn’t matter.

  He would go on by himself. And then he knew it did matter for, as Little Billy went out and left him alone, Thad felt isolated—cut off from the very things that were his own.

  Race came in before the cook returned to turn out the lights. It was after ten.

  “Men are still waitin’ for their money,” he said.

  “Money?” Thad looked at his foreman for enlightenment.

  “Pay-day,” Race muttered briefly.

  Thad had quite forgotten that it was the last of the month. He nodded to Race and said:

  “Right. Got it made out?”

  Eagan handed him the pay-roll, and Thad opened his safe and counted out the different amounts due his men.

  “Reckon they’ll be leavin’ in the morning’,” Race drawled. “Necia’s horse came in to-day. Somebody made it his business to find out what was happenin’. They can’t see it your way, so they’re through.

  Thad did not try to deceive his foreman. The blow hurt, and he showed that it did.

  “Men will be cheap soon,” he said after a pause. “I’ll git along. What you a goin’ to do?”

  R
ace finished counting the money Thad had given him before he replied:

  “I stay with the brand.”

  This fealty destroyed whatever reserve Thad had left.

  “That’s the proof of a man, Race,” he murmured. “That’s the way I was raised—to stick! To stick to the end! And I got to go on this time. I’m a goin’ to throw in with the others—Basques included. The ranch will go to hell. We won’t save it, Race, but I’ll have Necia. You know how he put it up to me?”

  “I reckon so. You couldn’t back down.”

  “That’s it! That’s it, Race, I couldn’t back down. I couldn’t go to town and fix things so he couldn’t marry her. I couldn’t do it after the way he put it up to me. I know he thinks I’m bluffin’, but I won’t welch. I’m a goin’ to that meetin’.

  “What water we’ve got we’ll share. Maybe we’ll have to let somebody else’s stuff come in on the only range we’ve got left. I won’t hold back. I’m a goin’ through clean. He won’t have no reason to come back on my account.”

  “And yet he ain’t askin’ nothin’ but what’s right,” Race said half under his breath.

  Thad looked at him for a long time before he said:

  “You mean that, Race?”

  “Yep! I reckon he’s doin’ about the biggest thing was ever done for this country. I ain’t intendin’ to tell you what to do or criticizin’ none, but I wouldn’t play it the way you’re doin’ it.

  “I ain’t up much on love, but what little I know about it has proved to me that it’s like water. Dam it up in one place and it ’ll break through in another. It’s got to git somewheres, and it ’ll git where it’s gain’ in spite of hell. And them what stands in its way gits drowned when the flood breaks loose.”

  Race got up and Thad let him go without a word, feeling more alone than ever. Morning came and the men left. Thad watched them ride away. He had seen men quit in a body before, but these men had no spirit of hilarity about them. After they left, Little Billy told Thad where they were going.

  “Reckon they ain’t goin’ to let you send Joseph away,” he said. “They’re goin’ up to talk to him now.”

  Thad got his glasses and followed them as they climbed the mountain. They traveled rapidly, and half an hour after Thad lost sight of them they rode across the coulee.

  The partisanship of these cowboys affected Necia visibly.

  “But, boys,” she exclaimed with trembling lips. “I cannot let you do this. Not a one of you has fifty dollars in his pocket at this moment. Jobs are going to be very, very hard to find. You must go back.”

  “Won’t go back unless you’re goin’ back,” some one answered. The others agreed with the speaker.

  “Well—I—I will be going back, I guess,” Necia said sadly, her eyes turned away from them.

  Larry Dowd, the youngest of the men, came up to Joseph.

  “It’s up to you whether the old man gets away with what he’s trying to do. All you’ve got to do is say the word.”

  “My friends, there is nothing I can say. You cannot help me. Whether I go or not depends solely on Thad Taylor. The decision must come from him.”

  Larry and the others tried to dissuade him, but in the end they left, knowing that they had failed. Necia cried softly as they rode away.

  “Come, Necia,” Joseph said to her tenderly, “we must not give way. You must help me to go on. No matter where I go, my heart remains with you. And our sacrifice will not be in vain. Let that console you.”

  But the moment was too much for Necia. Joseph felt her tremble as she tried in vain to control her grief. His own anguish became almost unbearable as he stood there taking his last look at the spot he had come to iove so well.

  Slippy-foot had the flock ready to move. Grimm, the crow, sad-eyed and silent, stood looking up mournfully as if pleading with him not to go. Below, the valley spread out brown and withered. Tiny dust-clouds moving along the roads told him that men were gathering at his grandfather’s caserio. It was time that he and Necia started.

  “We must go,” he murmured. “Dry your tears, Necia.”

  She drew him closer to her.

  “Joseph,” she cried, “my heart is breaking.”

  “And mine! And yet we must go on. Come, let us kneel here and ask God to give us strength.”

  Silently they knelt and prayed, and when they had finished, Joseph gave the word, and Slippy-foot started the sheep toward the valley. Necia held out her arms to Grimm, and the grieving bird fluttered into them.

  Joseph turned his eyes to the crest of the mountain for a moment. Necia waited for him, and then with her hand in his he led the way down the mountain-side. A chill wind sprang up as they went along. Swallows and thrashers began circling in the air, rising high as each succeeding gust struck them.

  Slippy-foot ran back and forth, her tongue hanging out to drink in the refreshing coolness. A rabbit leaped across the trail, its fur fluffy and wind-kissed. Somewhere in the chaparral a plover cheeped. It was as if bird and beast felt a renewing of life in that cold wind.

  Joseph gazed off toward the east and found the sky a murky white at the horizon. So do sand storms come to the desert. Joseph quickened their pace. When they came to the foot of the mountain they found Angel and his sons there to meet them.

  “And my father?” Joseph asked as Angel approached him.

  “He has come, Joseph, but he will not set foot on my land. Peter and he are at Stiles’s place. I have talked with him; he understands everything. He wants you. Until he has spoken to you he will not give me an answer.”

  “Was he surprised to learn of me?”

  “Not so much as to find that you and I were friends. He hardly believes it now. But let us go on. Many men have gathered together at my house. Richards and those others who had been leasing the Circle-Z water are there. They have taken my hand. This day will never be forgotten.”

  “My grandfather—has he come?” Necia asked, her face very white.

  Angel shook his head slowly.

  “No, he has not come.”

  Andres, dressed in his Sunday-best, as were his father and his brothers, pointed to the darkening sky.

  “We must go,” he said.

  Joseph looked up at the sun, almost obscured now, although he could see no clouds to hide it. The white collars of the Basques seemed to gleam in the somber half-light that stole over the valley. Little whirlwinds of sand arose funnelwise and went swirling across the sun-baked earth.

  Somehow the serious faces of Angel and the others appeared a fitting complement to the tragic color scheme with which the coming storm had painted the forbidding desert. Necia had tossed Grimm into the air, and he sailed against the sky now, a black blot.

  Angel put Necia between himself and Joseph, and with their sons following them they started on. Their way led past the Circle-Z and as they came to the corner of it they saw old Thad sitting in his buggy, apparently waiting for them.

  He got to the ground before they reached him, and leaving his rig, he came out to meet them. Necia felt Joseph’s hand tighten over hers.

  “Joseph!” she whispered. A pressure of his fingers told her that he heard. She saw him raise his hand, and they stopped and faced Thad.

  “I am here,” Thad said, speaking with an effort. “I am ready to join you.”

  Joseph caught his breath. He stepped forward then and said:

  “And I am ready to do as I have said I would do. Give me some proof that you will do as you say.”

  “You’ve got to take my word for that. I’ll give Richards and the others a new lease on Martin Creek. What water I got in the North Fork I’ll share. If the meetin’ appoints some one to parcel out the range that we have left, I’ll divide what I own.”

  “And you will live in peace with these people?” Joseph continued, pointing to Angel and his sons.

  “I will,” Thad declared.

  “God’s curse be on you if you lie. Where I shall go I do not know, but, be it where it may, if I shoul
d hear that you had broken word, I will come back.”

  “I don’t pass my word when I can’t keep it,” Thad growled. “You’ll have no cause to come back on my account.”

  “I am glad to hear you say so. You have asked a terrible price of me. It is almost impossible for me to forget how dearly I pay; I am only a man. God forgive me if there is any regret in my heart at what I do.

  “I have shown you the way, even as God showed it to me. It is for you men, for you, Thad Taylor, and for you, grandfather, to reap the fruit. I shall pass from this valley forever, but if the memory of me and what I have shown you lingers, it will be enough.”

  “But you will go on to my house for the night, Joseph?” Angel asked excitedly.

  “No, grandfather. I will leave you here. See, it grows dark. It may be that you are to be tried anew this day. I commend you to God’s care. As Solomon in all his wisdom prayed:

  “‘When Heaven is shut up and there is no rain, because they have sinned against Thee; if they pray, and confess Thy name and turn from their sins, when Thou dost afflict them: then hear Thou in Heaven, and forgive Thy people.

  “If there be in the land famine, if there be pestilence, if there be blasting or mildew, locust or caterpillar: whatsoever plague, whatsoever sickness there be . . . Then hear Thou in Heaven, and render unto every man according to his ways.’—So must you pray.

  “I promised myself that should you men forget your quarrels—if you should show me that you were willing to help each other in his need—that if you should do this without any promise of aid, then would I leave nothing undone to help you.

  “Andres knows what I am about to say. It will surprise you. Before this month is over the Reserve will be closed to sheep. The order is signed already.”

  “But there will be no grass left by the end of the month,” Angel declared, apparently not as surprised as Joseph had expected him to be.

  “But there are other years to come,” Joseph went on. “This order has no connection with the drought. It is my father’s doing. He hoped to revenge himself on all the Basques. He has leased many miles of range land in Malheur County. Your people were to pay dearly for it.