by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER XIV
RODEO TIME
In those days of large leisure and cyclonic bursts of excitement andactivity; of midday siestas and moonlight serenades--and a duel,perchance, at sunrise--the spring rodeo was one of the year's events, tobe looked forward to all winter by the vaqueros; and when it was over,to be talked of afterwards for months. A mark from which to measure thepassing of time, it was; a date for the fixing of incidents in thememory of men.
In the valley of Santa Clara, rodeo time really began when the Picardovaqueros cinched saddles upon restive mustangs some misty morning, andwith shouts and laughter and sombreros waving high over black heads inadieu to those who remained behind, swept down the slope like a chargeof gayly caparisoned cavalry, driving the loose saddle horses beforethem. Past the stone and adobe wall of the home pasture, past the fenceswhere the rails were held to their posts with rawhide thongs, which thecoyotes sometimes chewed to pulp and so made extra work for the peons,they raced, exultant with life. Slim young Spaniards they were, clothedpicturesquely in velvet and braid and gay sashes; with cumbersome, hairychaparejos, high-crowned sombreros and big-roweled, silver spurs to marktheir calling; caballeros to flutter the heart of a languorous-eyedsenorita, and to tingle the pulse of the man who could command and seethem ride gallantly to do his bidding.
Fairly in the midst of them, quite as gaudy to look upon and every whitas reckless in their horsemanship, rode Dade and Jack. If their heartswere not as light, their faces gave no sign; and their tongues flungback the good-humored jibes of their fellows in Spanish as fluent as anythey heard.
When they left the highway and rode straight down the valley through themustard that swept the chests of their plunging horses with daintyyellow and green, the two fell behind and slowing their horses to aneasy lope, separated themselves from their exuberant fellows.
"I wish you were going along," Dade observed tritely. "If Jose Pachecochanges his mind and stays at home, I'll send you word and you can comeon, if you want to."
"Thanks." Jack's tone, however, did not sound thankful. "If I wanted togo, do you think I'd hang back because he's going?"
"No, I don't. I think the prospect of a fine, large row would be atemptation; and I must say I'm kinda surprised that you've been able toresist it. Still, I realize there's compensations."
"Sure, there are. I never denied it, did I?"
"Never. I reckon you've sent by Bill Wilson for a trumpet to proclaim--"
"Oh, shut up. I think," Jack decided suddenly and without any visiblecause, "I'll turn off here and ride around by Jerry Simpson's. Adios,old man, and heaps of good luck to you." He swung abruptly off to theright and galloped away, looking back over his shoulder when he hadridden a hundred paces, to wave his sombrero and shout a last word ortwo of farewell.
"Truly, Jose will be disappointed when he does not see Senor Jackamongst us," smiled Valencia, reining in beside Dade and looking afterthe departing horseman with friendly eyes. "Though if he had good sense,he would be thankful. Me, I should not like to have trouble with thatfriend of yours, Senor. In San Francisco they talk yet of that day whenhe fired three times from a galloping horse and killed three men. Dios!That was pretty shooting. I would have given much to see it. There willbe few men so bold now as to make war with that blue-eyed hombre; butJose is a fool, when his will is crossed. Me, I fight--yes, and love theheat of fighting in my blood; but I do not bellow threats before, asJose has been doing. Carramba! To hear him, one would think he believedthat men may die of curses; if they did, the Senor Jack would be lyingnow with candles burning at his head and his feet! Truly, love takes thesense out of a man quicker than wine."
Dade agreed with him, though his lips did not open to form any wordsupon the subject.
Their first stopping place was Jose's ranch down near Santa Clara, andhe wondered just how far Jose's hatred of him would interfere with thetraditions of hospitality. It was not likely that Jose's vaqueros wouldbe ready to start that day; and although he carried his own campequipment on pack-horses, and, guided by Valencia, ordered the camp setup in its accustomed place beside a little stream half a mile from thehouse, he sent many a questioning glance that way.
If he feared a hostile reception, he was soon reassured. Jose and Manuelspeedily appeared, galloping side-by-side through the lush yellow andgreen. Jose's manner was irreproachable, his speech carefullyconsidered. If his eyes lacked their usual warm glow of friendliness,it was because he could not bring that look at will to beam upon theguest whom his heart failed to welcome. He invited Dade to dinner withhim; and Dade, hoping to establish a better understanding between them,accepted.
Dade had not lived half his life amongst the dark-skinned race fornothing. He sipped the home-made wine with Jose, talked of many thingsin his soft, easy-natured drawl, and by letting his inner friendlinesswith the whole world look out of his eyes when they dwelt upon his host,went Jose one better in courtesy. And Jose, sauntering afterward acrossthe patio to the porch, met Manuel face to face and paid tribute to DonAndres' new majordomo in a single sentence.
"If all gringos were like this Senor Hunter, one could tolerate theircoming to live amongst us," he said frankly.
"Si," grudged Manuel. "But then, he is not all gringo. Many years hedwelt with our people in Texas, so that he has the Spanish ways; but me,I want none of him."
Jose laughed without much mirth to lighten the sound. "The blue-eyedone--did you find from the vaqueros why he did not come? He need nothave been afraid of me--not if his fame was earned honestly." If histone were patronizing, Jose perhaps had some excuse, since Fame had notaltogether passed him by with face averted.
"Part of the way he came, and turned back. The vaqueros do not know why,except Valencia. And Valencia--he is growing a gringo heart, like thepatron. He will speak nothing but boasts of what that blue-eyed one cando. Me, I came near fighting with Valencia; only he would not doanything but smile foolishly, when I told him what I think of traitorslike himself."
"Let him smile," advised Jose, "while he may." Which was not a threat,in spite of its resemblance to one, but rather a vague reference to thespecter of trouble that stalks all men as a fox stalks a quail, andmight some day wipe that broad smile from the face of Valencia, as ithad swept all the gladness from his own.
He went back and smoked a final cigarette in Dade's company; and if hesaid little, his silences held no hint of antagonism. It was not untilDade rose to return to camp for the night that Jose put the questionthat had tickled the tongue of him ever since the arrival on his ranchof the Picardo vaqueros.
"Your friend, the Senor Allen--he is to join you later, perhaps?"
"Jack was left to look after the ranch." Dade's eyes were level intheir glance, his voice quiet with the convincing ring of truth. "Hewon't be on rodeo at all."
Jose went paler than he had been two weeks before with his hurt, but asimple word of polite surprise held all his answer. For Jack to stay athome, to be near Teresita every day, to have nothing in the way of hislove-making--nothing, since those doting two, her parents, would butsmile at whatever she might choose to do--there was acid enough in thatthought to eat away all the warmth, all the generosity Jose possessed.He let Dade go without even the perfunctory phrases of regret, whichcustom had made almost compulsory; and Manuel, sitting in silent wrathupon the porch, listened to the steady footfalls moving up and down theroom behind him until the moon, that had been shining in his smolderingeyes, slipped over the red tiles of the roof and left all but thetree-tops in black shade.
"Dios! There will be one gringo the less when those two meet," hemuttered, staring at the tiny glow of his cigarette; and afterwardfolded his arms tightly over a chest that heaved with the impatiencewithin. When those two met, Manuel meant to be there also to see. "Me, Ishould like to drag him to death with the six-strand riata he despised!"was the beautiful thought he took to bed with him.
Sunshine was lifting the morning fog high above the tree-tops when theold, gray mare, whose every movement t
inkled the bell hung around herneck, shook her rough coat vigorously to free it from the moisture whichthe fog had left; and so jangled a peremptory summons to the herd ofsaddle horses that bore the brand of Don Andres Picardo upon their rightthighs. At the camp upon the bank of the Guadalupe, the embaladors wereshouting curses, commands, jokes, and civilities to one another whilethey brought orderly packs out of the chaos of camp-equipment thatlittered the ground.
The vaqueros were saddling their mounts and fairly bubbling with apurely animal joy in the open; and Dade, his cigarette sending up a tinyribbon of aromatic smoke as if he were burning incense before the altarof the soul of him that looked steadfastly out of his eyes, walked amongthem with that intangible air of good-fellowship which is so hard todescribe, but which carries more weight among men than any degree ofimperious superiority. Valencia looked up and flashed him a smile as hecame near; and Pancho, the lean vaquero with the high beak and thetender heart, turned to see what Valencia was smiling at and gaveinstant glimpse of his own white teeth when he saw Dade behind him.
"To-day will be hot, Senor," he said. "Me, I wish we were already atTres Pinos."
"No, you don't," grinned Dade, "for then you would not have the Sunalrancho before you, to build hopes upon, but behind you--and hope, theysay, is sweeter than memory, Pancho."
Pancho, being ugly to look upon, liked to be rallied upon the onesenorita in the valley whose eyes brightened at sight of him. He grinnedgratifiedly and said no more.
A faint medley of sounds blended by distance turned heads towards theeast; and presently, breasting the mustard field that lay level andyellow to the hills, came Jose's squad of vaqueros, with Jose himselfleading the group at a pace that was recklessly headlong, his crimsonsash floating like a pennant in the breeze he stirred to life as hecharged down upon them.
"Only for the silver trimmings, you looked like a band of warlike Injunscoming down on us with the sun at your back," laughed Dade, as Joseswung down near him. "They're riders--the Indians back there on theplains; and when they pop over a ridge and come down on you like a tidalwave, your backbone squirms a little in spite of you. The way yourvaqueros parted and galloped around our camp was a pretty good imitationof their preliminary flourishes."
"Still, I do not come in war," Jose returned, and looked full at theother. "I hope that we shall have peace, Senor Hunter; though one day Ishall meet that friend of yours in war, if the saints permit. And maythe day come soon."
"Whatever quarrel you may have with Jack, I hope it will not hinder usfrom working together without bad feeling between us." Dade threw awayhis cigarette and took a step nearer, so that the vaqueros could nothear.
"Don Jose, I know you don't like a gringo major domo to lead Don Andres'vaqueros on rodeo. I don't blame you Californians for being prejudicedagainst Americans, because you've been treated pretty shabbily by acertain class of them. But you're not so narrow you can't see that we'renot all alike. I'd like to be friends, if you will, but I'm not going toapologize for being a gringo, nor for being here in charge of this camp.I didn't choose my nationality, and I didn't ask for my job. I'll giveyou a square deal, and I want you to know that if there's any grudgebetween us, it's all on your side."
Jose's fingers fumbled the little corn-husk wrapping for the cigarettehe meant to make. "Senor, I repeat what I said to Manuel last night," hesaid, after a pause. "If all gringos were like you, we Californianswould like the name better. But I thought you would stand by yourfriend--"
"And so I will, to the last--" Not being of a theatrical temperament,Dade balked at protestations of his loyalty. "Jack and I have worked andfought and played elbow to elbow for a long time, Don Jose. But I don'tmix into his personal quarrels, unless I see him getting a crooked deal.I believe you'll fight fair. The rest lies between you two."
"But is it not your boast that the Senor Allen is the supreme caballeroof California?" Jose was frank, at least, and Dade liked him the betterfor it. "For three years I have held the medalla oro [gold medal] forriding and for riata throwing; if it is true that you boast--"
Dade, as was the way of him when disgust or chagrin seized him, flungout both hands impatiently. "I did say he couldn't be beat. I said it toManuel, when Manuel was sneering that Jack didn't know a good riata froma bad one. I won't take it back. I haven't seen your work in the saddle,Don Jose. I have seen Jack's, and I never saw any better. So, until Ido, I can believe he's the best, can't I?"
"Si." Jose smiled without effort. "You are honest, Senor Hunter, andthat pleases me well. I do not like you less because you are loyal toyour friend; but that friend I hope one day to kill." He looked at theother questioningly. "Now I am honest also," his eyes said plainly.
"That's your affair and Jack's, as long as you don't try to get him whenhe isn't looking."
"I am not an assassin, Senor Hunter," Jose retorted stiffly.
"Then we understand each other, I guess. Let's get these fellowsstarted. It's going to be hot, they say, and the horses are soft yet--atleast, ours are. We took them off pasture yesterday, most of them."
"Mine are the same, Senor. But to-day's marcha will be an easy one. ToSunal Rancho is not far." He turned to remount and give the signal forstarting. And with a little of the pride that had impelled Jack to showoff his skill that day when the Captain of the Committee commanded himto mount the buckskin, Jose also vaulted into the saddle withoutdeigning to touch the stirrup.
There was doubt in the senor's mind about his horsemanship being thebest in all California? Very good. The senor would have the opportunityto judge for himself. Still, Jose had put to sleep most of hisantagonism towards Dade, and his attitude of friendliness was not sodeliberately forced as Manuel, watching eagerly for the first sign of aclash, believed it to be.