Riding from Memories

by Jim Cox

  “You’re half right,” Grant said. “Buck’s from Alabama, but I’m from Mississippi.”

  “I imagine you’re like other men I’ve met-up with lately. You’ve come out here to rid yourselves of all the war tragedies and bad memories you’ve gone through the last four years.” Buck and Grant nodded.

  Mr. Summers asked, “Are you boys in a hurry to get to Arizona?” Buck and Grant eyed one another.

  “We ain’t got nothing nor nobody waiting for us if that’s what you mean. Why do you ask?”

  “Have you ever been on a round-up or had any experience with cows?” he asked before responding to Buck’s question.

  “No sir,” Buck answered. “But I’m a good worker. I was born and grew up on a cotton farm before I went to the war.”

  “How about you?” Mr. Summers asked, looking at Grant with a smile.

  “Before I went to the war, I worked for my pa in the town’s livery. I took care of horses and did a good bit of shoeing.”

  Mr. Summers paused in thought, then asked, “Would you men like a job for a couple months? I had to leave three cowhands behind because they were hiding their bottles and drinking on the job. I don’t allow any liquor during the roundup. The pay’s six-bits a day and all the food you want.”

  “What kind of work would we be doin’?” Buck asked after exchanging looks with Grant.

  “We’re in the process of servicing the calves born after our round-up last spring. There ain’t many. Maybe a thousand or so. All ranches don’t follow this practice, but we feel it’s best to get them taken care of and separated from their mammas before the spring calves are born. I won’t lie to ya’, it’s hard work. Some of these calves are nearly a year old and weigh close to four-hundred pounds—they’ll be hard to handle.” Mr. Summers paused to study Buck and Grant’s expressions, which he thought were receptive to the possibility, so he continued, “I expect you to be in the saddle from first light to sundown with a thirty-minute break at noon to eat. There are three main jobs you’ll be doin’. You’ll be roping and bringing the unbranded calves to the fire pits. Some days you’ll do the branding once the calves get to the pits, or you might help castrate the males while they’re there. We take turns singing to the herd at night.”

  “I don’t know how to do any of those jobs,” Buck said. “Are you sure you want to hire me?”

  “You’re hired. Both of ya’. Bones will teach ya’ everything you need to know within a couple days. He’s been with me for several years and has taught a lot of men the jobs. I’ll introduce you to him when he comes in.”

  “Will he learn our horses, too?” Grant asked.

  “You’ll be riding ours. We have over fifty head in our string, and you boys can pick out the ones you like.” There was only a twinge of light left in the western sky when the cook called out, “Come and get it while it’s still hot.” The men quickly lined up, filled their plates with steaming stew and a large piece of cornbread, and went back to their log where they ate without saying a word. Buck and Grant had only eaten a small portion of their food when the cowhands started setting their empty plates aside and pouring their coffee. Some fired-up a cigarette to enjoy while drinking their coffee.

  The cowhands finished their coffee almost in unison and left the campsite. Four men went to their horses and rode off to replace the men who were tending the cows, and the remainder of the men headed for their bedrolls. It had been a long day and daylight comes early.

  Sometime later, sounds of horses being tied to the rope line and stripped of their gear were heard. It wasn’t long before the riders walked in. “How’s the herd, Bones? Is everything all right?” Mr. Summers asked. It was obvious how Bones acquired his nickname. He was a tall, gangly man but stood straight and carried himself well.

  “When I left, most of the cows were laying down chewing their cuds. I did see a wolf cross over a ridge some distance away, but I don’t think it’ll be a bother,” Bones answered as he took the coffee from the cook.

  “I’ve hired a couple new hands,” Mr. Summers said, “but you men get your food and eat before I introduce ’em and tell you what I have in mind.”

  Buck and Grant were eventually introduced and cups topped off when Mr. Summers started, “Bones, you’ll be in charge of these new hires for the first few days, teach ’em what’s expected of ’em and how to do it. Grant said he’s a hand at shoeing horses, so I want him to spend some time examining the horses’ hooves and replacing their shoes if needed. You can show him where we keep the supplies and the trail-forge.” Bones nodded. “Are you boys all right with those assignments?” Mr. Summers asked looking at Grant and Buck.

  “Yes, sir,” Grant said with a smile and Buck approved with a nod.

  Mr. Summers continued, “You can teach Buck how to do the normal chores in our round-up, see to it he pulls his weight. He’s been a cotton farmer back in Alabama and ain’t had experience with cows.”

  When Mr. Summers said Buck had been a farmer in Alabama, one of the cowhands jerked his head around, quickly stood up, and interrupted. Buck sized him up. His light brown hair hung to his shoulders from under a black, high-crowned hat that had lost its shape, and his jaws were covered with several days’ growth. He was a mite taller than most men but thicker around the belly. His clothes were extra dirty with several holes, and his boot heels were badly worn. “You ain’t gonna hire them farmers, are you, Boss? There’re the scum of the earth and ain’t fit to be in our outfit,” the cowhand blurted out in a loud voice, his face in a snarl. “They’re lazy and ain’t capable to tend cows, and if we ain’t careful, the west will be overrun with the likes of ’em.”

  “That’s right, Boss, I agree with Jude,” chimed in another man who wore shabby clothes and had similar characteristics to Jude. “We don’t want the likes-of-’em around us. They’ll only be in our way. Besides, if we ain’t careful they’ll be plowing up our range land leaving us without land to raise cattle.”

  The other wranglers around the fire quickly looked from one to another before Mr. Summers spoke. “I don’t want to hear any more talk like that. I’ve already hired ’em, and that’s the end of it. I expect both of you men to apologize to Buck and Grant. Do you understand me?” The camp became deathly quiet as Jude and Wade stared with snarled lips and glaring eyes, and then, without saying a word, they turned and headed toward their bedrolls.

  “I’m sorry for the way they acted,” Mr. Summers said. “I shouldn’t have hired ’em. They’re troublemakers.”

  “Maybe Buck and I should head out come morning, Mr. Summers. We don’t want to cause any problems.”

  “Don’t worry about those two. I’ll take care of ’em,” Mr. Summers said with a firm tone, “you just be ready for work come first light.”

  »»•««

  At first Buck and Grant were laughed at by the other wranglers. Their ropes missed the cow’s legs nearly every time. They clung to their saddle horns as the ranch horses they were riding made quick turns and stops, and they were only able to castrate one bull calf while the other men castrated five. But the newcomers learned fast and within a couple weeks were pulling their weight. They were now considered to be true wranglers and part of the Lazy Horseshoe team—that is, with the exception of Jude and Wade. They still looked down on the farmers and avoided them.

  Mr. Summers’ description of the round-up jobs was accurate. The days were long, very stressful, and by days end, exhausting. Snow and rain hampered the work from time to time, but the weather was generally tolerable if the men wore coats.

  Servicing the ranch’s late calves was completed by mid-February, and for a week afterward Buck and Grant laid around the Lazy Horseshoe’s homestead enjoying the food and soft bunkhouse beds. They were making plans to leave when Mr. Summers approached them over coffee one morning. “We’ll be starting our spring roundup in another month. Would you boys be willing to stay on? I’ll pay your wages for the month you’ll be waiting around. You’ve been good help and I need men like
you. The roundup will be over by the middle of May and you can leave then with a pocket full of money.”

  Buck looked at Grant who was wearing a grin. “Like I said when we first met, Mr. Summers, we ain’t got nothing nor nobody waiting for us, so I guess we’ll stay on.” All three men smiled as they shook hands to consummate their agreement.

  Grant’s mind turned to the roundup. “Will we be done by mid-May, Mr. Summers? It seems to me it’d take a lot longer. It took us two months to service the late calves and there’ll be a lot more calves to tend to in the upcoming main roundup.”

  “You’re right, Grant, there’ll be over five thousand calves, but we’ll have three times the number of wranglers and the calves will be smaller and easier to handle.”

  “When will the other men get here?” Buck asked.

  “They normally get here a week before the work starts,” he answered.

  The month leading up to the spring roundup was a little boring for Buck and Grant, but they stayed busy doing repairs, tending to the stock, and performing other odd jobs. Grant gave Buck a few lessons on how to shoe horses. Once during a lesson, Buck observed Grant putting a flat bar across the mouth of the horseshoe he was making for his gelding. “Why are you doing that, Grant? I’ve noticed all four of your horse’s footprints are made from shoes like that, but I’ve not seen any other prints with that shape except for a few Army mounts.”

  “My grandpa followed this practice and taught Pa and me to do the same. There was a good deal of horse stealing during Grandpa’s growing up years, so he started shoeing his horses like this to make the prints unique. It gave him a way to track ’em if they were stolen. I’ve always made it a practice.”

  “That sounds like a good idea, Grant. Could we make shoes like that for Black and Bell?”

  “We’ll make one for Black’s left front and Bell’s right front. That way we’ll know which horse is leaving the print.” Buck nodded with a big smile.

  A week before the roundup, men started straggling in, and by the last day before the roundup was to start, over thirty men had arrived not counting the regulars. As in past years, a cookout had been planned for the night before the long, three-month hard work schedule began.

  A beef half had been turning since early morning, a tub of beans was being stirred a few feet from the roasting beef, and in the cookhouse, kitchen bread was being baked. Sassafras tea had already been set out. The party started in late afternoon, went without a hitch, and concluded an hour after sunset with the men heading for their bunkhouse bedrolls, knowing the cook’s breakfast call would be coming an hour or two before daylight.

  The work days got longer as the springtime hours lengthened, and with it a strong camaraderie developed among the cowhands, which made the time pass quickly. March ended, then April, and soon the month of May came with the end of the roundup in sight.

  Buck and Grant were making plans to leave since their work would soon be finished, but Mr. Summers confronted them again, asking them to stay on to help get the two-year-old cattle ready for the long cattle drive to California. They agreed, but got a firm promise from him they wouldn’t be asked again to stay on when this job was completed, no later than the end of August.

  The third roundup went reasonably well for Buck and Grant except for two incidents. During the third week, the ranch horse Grant was riding stepped into a gopher hole and fell on top of him. The horse’s thrashing as it stood back up caused Grant to be bruised and holed-up for several days but luckily no bones were broken. The second incident occurred a week before the completion of the roundup. Mr. Summers had become suspicious cattle were being stolen, so he came to Buck and Grant in secret with a request. “I have a feeling someone is rustling our cattle and I’m thinking Jude and Wade are the guilty ones. I want you to keep an eye on ’em and determine if you see anything suspicious. Be careful and don’t take any chances, they both have pistols at their side.”

  Two days later Grant found tracks leading from the main herd into a thicket of brush and trees, and after summoning Buck, the two men followed the tracks. Nearly thirty minutes later they topped a hill and saw a small fire burning in its valley, with several head of cattle standing close by. Buck and Grant dismounted, tied their horses, and after pulling their handguns crept downhill from tree to tree being extra careful not to alert the rustlers who were busy with branding irons. When they crept to within thirty feet of the fire, they could make out the altered Lazy Horseshoe brands.

  Buck hiked up his pants, took a deep breath, and walked out from behind the trees. As he started toward the fire, he shouted, “You men raise your hands and stand up! Don’t try anything, there’s two guns aimed at your bellies.”

  Jude and Wade jerked around with startled expressions. “It’s you two! How did you find us?”

  “It wasn’t hard. We were taught to trail the likes of you in the Army. Now get your hands up, I ain’t telling ya’ again.”

  “We ain’t done nothing wrong,” Jude said. “I know it looks suspicious, but it ain’t what it looks like.”

  “It’s exactly what it looks like. You’re trying to rustle Lazy Horseshoe cattle, but you ain’t getting away with it. We aim to take you back to Mr. Summers, he can deal with ya’.”

  Grant looked at Buck and said, “I’ll fetch their horses and bring ’em along while you take these men to camp. They can walk…do ’em good.”

  Both men looked surprised at Grant’s remark, and Wade complained, “You ain’t making us walk all the way to camp, are you? It’s nearly two miles.”

  “You heard him. Now get moving,” Buck said as he stepped into his stirrup.

  Mr. Summers let the two cow thieves off without much punishment. He told them to leave this part of the country and never come back, especially onto the Lazy Horseshoe property, and if he ever caught them around, he’d see to it they got prison time. Then he paid them their full wages for their time in the roundups, supplied them with a couple days of food, and ordered them off the ranch.

  When the cattle thieves topped a hill, and rode out of sight, Mr. Summers turned to Buck and Grant and said, “You boys watch out for those two. They’re probably headed back home to Tucson, but I wouldn’t put it past ’em to hide out someplace along your trail and try to get payback—maybe even rob ya’.”

  “Do you really think they might do that, Mr. Summers?” Buck asked.

  “They’re a mean lot, Buck. It wouldn’t surprise me if they tried something. They’re totally devoid of God’s morals.”

  A few days after the rustlers were ordered off the property, the cattle to be driven to California were ready, and since Buck and Grant’s work was over, they prepared to leave for Arizona. They had enjoyed working with the cattle and the friendships built with the other wranglers. The time had passed rather quickly. Days had become weeks and weeks had turned into the last of August.

  It was around ten o’clock on a bright sunny morning when Buck and Grant said their goodbyes and headed out. Grant on his steel-gray gelding and Buck on Black with Bell following carrying their supplies and a bag full of food. Each man had one-hundred eighty dollars well hidden, which they’d earned during their eight months of work. The sky was cloudless and the temperature was climbing to another hot day—probably in the nineties. Buck removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead as he gazed at the distant mountains rising beyond the grassy, rolling prairie they’d be riding through.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The next two days went fairly well for Buck and Grant. The days were long and the hot sun made the afternoons uncomfortable, but the evenings cooled down considerably, allowing for a good night’s sleep. They were now past the rolling prairie and riding in mountain passes. Occasionally a pass gave way to grassy hills, or in a few cases, flat land where buffalo roamed. Even though it wasn’t talked about, both men had taken Mr. Summer’s advice seriously and kept a lookout for Jude and Wade, especially when they traveled through rough, rocky cliffs full of hiding places.
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  Sometime after midnight on the third night after leaving the Lazy Horseshoe, Buck woke screaming and sat straight up. After he calmed himself, he was surprised to see Grant dressed and sitting on a boulder beside their fire with cup in hand. Buck crawled out, pulled his pants up, and stomped into his boots before going to the fire. “What are you doing up, all dressed with coffee made? Couldn’t you sleep?”

  “You’ve been talking in your sleep about your war days, Buck. It woke me up and caused me to start thinking about battles I fought in. I couldn’t get the war out of my mind and go back to sleep, so I got up.”

  “I’m sorry I woke you with my screaming, Grant. I even woke myself a couple minutes ago. I have nightmares occasionally. Can’t seem to get my war days out of my mind.”

  “You have ’em nearly every night, Buck. Normally, your sleep talking and shouting don’t bother me very much, and I can go back to sleep, but not tonight.”

  Buck thought about Grant’s comment and asked, “You were in the war, Grant. Do you have dreams about it?”

  “I used to have a few but not anymore,” he answered.

  “Why did they stop? How did you get rid of ’em?” Buck asked.

  Grant gazed at Buck for a few seconds and then said, “They stopped because of my faith, because of my dependence upon the Lord. It may not show but I try to keep Him in the center of my life.”

  There was a long pause as Grant refilled his cup before continuing, “When my wife was alive, she insisted we attend church every Sunday with our boys. She brought me and our boys to the Lord.

  “Buck interrupted, “My folks were God-fearing people, but there wasn’t a church within miles of our farm, so we didn’t attend church. They did teach me right from wrong and the need to be a good person and help folks in need. Pa always prayed before meals.”

  “Those are good things to do, Buck, but they don’t mean you’re a person of faith - a person who’s been saved from their sins with an assurance of spending an eternity in Heaven.”