"This is Master Tad Butler, Mr. Stallings," announced the Professor.
"I think I have met the young man before," answered the foreman, with a peculiar smile.
"Tad, I am surprised that you should involve yourself in trouble so soon after getting out of my sight. I"
"The boy was not to blame, Mr. Professor. My cowpunchers were wholly in the wrong. But you need have no fears of any future trouble. The bunch will be given to understand that the young gentlemen are to be well treated. You will find no luxuries, but lots of hard work on a cattle drive, young men"
"Dodo we get plenty to eat?" interrupted Stacy Brown apprehensively.
All joined in the laugh at the lad's expense.
"Chunky's appetite is a wonderful thing, Mr. Stallings," said Tad.
"I think we shall be able to satisfy it," laughed the foreman. "Our cook is a Chinaman. His name is Pong, but he knows how to get up a meal. I believe, if he had nothing but sage grass and sand, he could make a palatable dish of them, provided he had the seasoning. Have you boys brought your slickers with, you?"
"What's a slicker?" demanded Chunky.
"A rubber blanket that"
"Oh yes. We bought an outfit of those at Austin," answered Tad. "Anything else that you wish us to get?"
"The boys don't carry guns, do they?"
Professor Zepplin shook his head emphatically.
"Most certainly not. They can get into enough trouble without them. We have rifles in our kit, but I imagine there will be little use for such weapons on this trip."
"You can't always tell about that," smiled the foreman. "I remember in the old days, when we used to have to fight the rustlers, that a rifle was a pretty good thing to have."
"Who were the rustlers?" asked Walter.
"Fellows who rustled cattle that didn't belong to them. But the old days have passed. Such a drive as we are making now hasn't been done on so large a scale in nearly twenty years."
"Why not?" asked Ned.
"The iron trails have put the old cow trails out of business."
"Iron trails?" wondered Tad.
"Railroads. We men of the plains refer to them as the iron trails. That's what they are in reality. Professor, do you wish the boys to take their turns on the herd to-night?"
"As you wish, Mr. Stallings. I presume they will be anxious to begin their life as cowboys. I understand that's an ambition possessed by most of your American boys."
"All right," laughed the foreman. "I'll send them out as I find I can, with some of the other cowpunchers, until they learn the ropes. There is too great a responsibility on a night man to trust the boys alone with that work now. But they can begin if they wish. I'll see first how the bunch get back from their celebration of the glorious Fourth. You'll come out and have supper with us?"
"No, I think not. We shall ride out just after supper, if you will have some one to show us the way," answered the Professor.
"Sure, I'll send in Big-foot Sanders to pilot you out. You boys need not be afraid of Big-foot. He's not half so savage as he looks, but he's a great hand with cows."
Big-foot Sanders rode up to the hotel shortly after six o'clock. Leading his pony across the sidewalk, he poked his shaggy head just inside the door of the hotel.
"Ki-yi!" he bellowed, causing everybody within hearing of his voice to start up in alarm. "Where's that bunch of tenderfeet?"
"Are you Mr. Sanders, from the Miller outfit?" asked the Professor, stepping toward him.
"Donno about the Mister. I'm Big-foot Sanders. I'm lookin' for a bunch of yearlings that's going on with the outfit."
"The young gentlemen will join you in a moment, Mr. Sanders. They will ride their ponies around from the stable and meet you in front of the house."
"You one of the bunch?"
"I am Professor Zepplin, a sort of companion, you know, for the young men."
"Huh!" grunted Big-foot. "I reckon you'd better forget the hard boiled hat you're wearin' or the boys'll be for shooting it full of holes. Take my advicedrop it, pardner."
"Oh, you mean this," laughed the Professor, removing his derby hat. "Thank you. I shall profit by your advice, and leave it here when I start."
"All the bunch got hard boiled ones?"
"Oh, no. The boys have their sombreros," answered the Professor.
Big-foot grunted, but whether in disapproval or approval, Professor Zepplin did not know. The cowpuncher threw himself into his saddle, on which he sat, stolidly awaiting the arrival of the Pony Riders.
In a short time they came galloping from the stable at the rear of the hotel, and pulled up, facing the cowman.
"This, Mr. Sanders, is Tad Butler," announced the Professor.
"Huh!" grunted Big-foot again. "Hello, Pinto!" he said after a sharp glance into the freckled face. "Who's the gopher over there?"
"That's Stacy Brown, otherwise known as 'Chunky,'" laughed Tad. "This is Ned Rector, and the young gentleman at your left is Walter Perkins, all members of the Pony Rider Boys' party. We are ready to start whenever you are."
For answer, Big-foot touched his pony with a spur, the little animal springing into a gallop without further command. The Pony Riders followed immediately, Tad riding up beside the big, muscular looking cowboy, which position he held for half an hour without having been able to draw a word from him.
Leaving the town due east of them, the party galloped off across the country in a straight line until finally the cowman pointed off across the plain to indicate where their destination lay.
A slow moving mass of red and brown and white met the inquiring gaze of the boys. At first they were unable to make out what it was.
"Cows," growled the guide, observing that they did not understand.
"What are they doing, Mr. Sanders?" asked Tad.
"Don't 'mister' me. I'm Big-foot. Never had a handle to my name. Never expect to. They're grazing. Be rounding them up for bed pretty soon. Ever been on a trail before?"
Tad shook his head.
"We have been up in the Rockies on a hunting trip. This is my first experience on the plains."
"Huh! Got good and plenty coming to you, then."
"And I am ready for it," answered the lad promptly. "The rougher the better."
"There's the bunch waiting for us. All of them got back from town. The foreman don't allow the fellows to hang out nights when they're on a drive like this."
Now, the rest of the Pony Rider Boys, understanding that they were nearing the camp of the cowboys, urged their ponies into a brisk gallop and drew up well into line with Tad and Big-foot. That is, all did save Stacy Brown, who, as was his habit lagged behind a few rods.
The cowboys were standing about watching the approach of the new arrivals curiously, but not with any great enthusiasm, for they did not approve of having a lot of tenderfeet with the outfit on a journey such as they were taking now. They were bent on grim and serious businessman's workthe sort of labor that brings out all that is in him. It was no place for weaklings, and none realized this better than the cowmen themselves.
Yet, they did not know the mettle that was in these four young American boys, though they were to realize it fully before the boundaries of the Lone Star State, had been left behind them.
The Pony Riders dashed up to the waiting cowpunchers with a brave showing of horsemanship, and sprang from their saddles their eyes glowing with excitement and anticipation.
Bob Stallings, the foreman, was the first to greet them.
"Fellows, this is the bunch I've been telling you about," was Bob's introduction. "Where's Lumpy?" he demanded, glancing about him with a scowl.
"Lumpy's over behind the chuck wagon," answered the cowboy of whom the question had been asked.
"Lumpy!" bellowed the foreman.
The fellow with whom Tad Butler had had such an unpleasant meeting, earlier in the day, came forward reluctantly, a sudden scowl on his face.
"Lumpy, this is Tad Butler. Stick out your fist and shake hands with hi
m!"
Lumpy did so.
"Howd'y," he growled, but scarcely loud enough for any save Tad to hear.
The lad smiled up at him good-naturedly.
"You and I bumped ponies this morning, I guess," said Tad. "Maybe I was to blame after all. I'll apologize, anyway, and I hope there will be no hard feelings."
"Lumpy!" warned Stallings when he noticed that the cowpuncher had made no reply to Tad's apology.
"No hard feelings," grunted Lumpy Bates.
He was about to turn away and again seek the seclusion of the chuck wagon, as the cook wagon was called by the cow boys, when Chunky came rolling along. In the excitement of the meeting the boys had forgotten all about him. The Pony Riders swung their sombreros and gave three cheers for Chunky Brown as he dashed up.
Chunky took off his sombrero and waved it at them.
Just then Chunky met with one of those unfortunate accidents that were always occurring to him. His galloping pony put a forefoot into a gopher hole, going down in a heap.
Chunky, however, kept on.
When the accident happened he was almost upon the waiting cowboys, his intention having been to pull his pony up sharply to show off his horsemanship, then drop off and make them a sweeping bow.
Stacy Brown was possessed of the true dramatic instinct, yet few things ever came off exactly as he had planned them.
As he shot over the falling pony's head, his body described a half curve in the air, his own head landing fairly in the pit of Lumpy Bates's stomach.
Cowboy and Pony Rider went over in a struggling heap, with the Pony Rider uppermost.
Stacy had introduced himself to the cowboys in a most unusual manner, and to the utter undoing of one of them, for the boy's head had for the moment, knocked all the breath out of the surly Lumpy Bates.
* * *
CHAPTER III
PUTTING THE COWS TO BED
The cowpunchers roared at the funny sight of the fat boy bowling over their companion.
Stallings, however, fearing for the anger of Lumpy, sprang forward and hauled the lad back by the collar, while Lumpy was allowed to get up when he got ready. He did so a few seconds later, sputtering and growling, scarcely able to contain his rage.
"That's a bad way to get off a pony, young man," laughed the foreman. "I hope you won't dismount in that fashion around the cattle at night. If you do, you sure will stampede the herd."
Chunky grinned sheepishly.
"It doesn't take much to start a bunch of cows on the run after dark," continued the foreman, "I've known of such a thing as a herd being stampeded because they were frightened at the rising moon. Haven't you, Big-foot?"
Sanders nodded.
"The gopher'll do it, too; he's a clumsy lout," he answered, referring to Stacy in a withering tone.
"And now, boys, I will tell you how our watches are divided, after which you can go out with the cowboys and see them bed down the cows."
"Bed them down?" spoke up Chunky, his curiosity aroused. "That's funny. I didn't know you had to put cattle to bed."
"You'll see that we do. Boys, the night of the cowman on the march is divided into four tricks. The first guard goes on at half past eight, coming off at half past ten. The second guard is on duty from that time till one o'clock in the morning; the third, from that hour till half past three, while the fourth remains out until relieved in the morning. He usually wakes up the cook, too. And, by the way, you boys haven't made the acquaintance of Pong, have you? I'll call him. Unless you get on the right side of Pong, you will suffer."
"Pong? That's funny. Sounds like ping-pong. I used to play that," interrupted Stacy.
"Pong is as funny as his name, even if he is a Chinaman," laughed Stallings. "Pong, come here."
The Chinaman, having heard his name spoken, was peering inquiringly from the tail of the chuck wagon.
Hopping down, he trotted over to the group, his weazened, yellow face wreathed in smiles.
"Shake hands with these young gentlemen, Pong. They will be with us for the next two weeks," said the foreman.
"Allee same likee this," chuckled Pong, clasping his palms together and gleefully shaking hands with himself.
"That's the Chinaman's idea of shaking hands," laughed Stallings. "He always shakes hands with himself instead of the other fellow."
Stacy Brown suddenly broke into a loud laugh, attracting all eyes to him.
"Funniest thing I ever heard of," he muttered, abashed by the inquiring looks directed at him.
"Now watch the heathen while I ask him what he is going to have for breakfast," said the foreman. "Pong, what are you going to give us out of the chuck wagon in the morning?"
"Allee same likee this," chattered the Chinaman, quickly turning to his questioner, at the same time rapidly running through a series of pantomime gestures.
The Pony Riders looked at each other blankly.
"He says we are going to have fried bacon with hot biscuit and coffee," Stallings informed them with a hearty laugh. "Pong is not much of a talker. That's about as much as you ever will hear him say. He's weak on talk and strong on motions."
The foreman glanced up at the sky.
"It's time to put the cows to bed. You young gentlemen may ride along on your own ponies, but keep well back from the cattle. Those of you who go out to-night will have to ride our ponies. All ready, now."
The entire outfit mounted and set off over the plain to where the cattle were moving slowly about, but not grazing much. They had had their fill of grass and water and were now ready for the night.
"Where's their beds?" asked Chunky, gazing about him curiously.
"Right ahead of you," answered Stallings.
The foreman's quick eye already had picked out a nice elevation on which the old dry grass of the previous summer's growth lay matted like a carpet for the cattle to bed down on.
"How many of them are there in the herd?" asked Tad.
"About two thousand. That was the first count. Since then we have picked up a few stray cows. We will be cutting those out in a day or so, when you will see some real cow work. Perhaps you will be able to help by that time."
Now the cowmen galloped out on the plain, separating widely until they had practically surrounded the herd. They began circling slowly about the herd, at the same time gradually closing in on them.
The animals appeared to understand fully what was expected of them, for they had been on the road several nights already. Besides, having had their fill they were anxious to turn in for the night.
As they found spots to their liking, the animals began to throw themselves down.
Tad uttered an exclamation of delight as he watched the steers going to their knees in hundreds, then dropping on their sides, contentedly chewing their cuds. It was such a sight as he never before had seen.
"What are those steers on the outside therethose fellows without any horns?" asked Stacy.
"Those are the muleys. Having no horns, they keep well out of the bunch and wait until the others have gone to bed as you see," the foreman informed him. "You will notice after a while that they will lie down outside the circle. If any of the cows get ugly during the night the muleys will spring up and get out of the way."
In half an hour the last one of the great herd had "bedded down," and those of the cowboys who were not on guard, rode leisurely back toward camp.
It had been decided that Tad Butler should go out on the first guard; Walter Perkins on the second; Ned Rector third and Stacy Brown fourth.
Tad was all eagerness to begin. One of the cowmen exchanged ponies with him, riding Tad's horse back to camp.
"You see, our ponies understand what is wanted of them," explained Stallings, who had remained out for a while to give Tad some instruction in the work before him. "Give the ordinary cow pony his head and he will almost tend a herd by himself."
Three men ordinarily constituted the guard. In this case Tad Butler made a fourth. Taking their stations some four rods from the
edge of the herd, they began lazily circling it, part going in one direction and part in another. In this position it would have been well-nigh impossible for any animal to escape without being noticed by the riders.
"Now, I guess you will be all right," smiled the foreman. "Make no sudden moves to frighten the cattle."
"Do they ever run?" asked Tad.
"Run? Well, rather! And I tell you, it takes a long-legged Mexican steer to set the pace. Those fellows can run faster than a horseat least some of them can. A stampede is a thing most dreaded by the cowmen."
"Our ponies stampeded in the Rockies. I know something about that," spoke up Tad.
"Well, compare the stampeding of your four or five ponies with two thousand head of wild steers and you'll get something like the idea of what it means. In that case, unless you know your business you had better get out of the way as fast as hoss-flesh will carry you. Now, Master Tad, I'll bid you good night and leave you to your first night on the plains."
"How shall I know when to come in?"
"When the second guard comes out. You will hear them. If you should not they will let you know as they pass you."
With that the foreman walked his pony away from the herd. After some little time Tad heard him galloping toward camp.
At first Tad took the keenest enjoyment in his surroundings; then the loneliness of the plains came over him. He began to feel a longing for human companionship.
A dense mantle of darkness settled down over the scene.
Remembering the advice of the foreman, the lad gave his pony the rein. The hardy little animal, with nose almost touching the ground, began its monotonous crawling pace about the herd. It seemed more asleep than awake.
In a short time a sheet of bright light appeared on the eastern horizon. Tad looked at it inquiringly, then smiled.
"It's the moon," he decided.
The boy felt a great sense of relief in his lonely vigil. Just ahead of him he saw a pony and rider leisurely approaching.
It proved to be Red Davis, one of the first guard.
Red waved his hand to the boy in passing, but no word was spoken on either side.
The Pony Rider Boys in Texas Page 2