by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER X.
A RACE.
"I don't think, Broncho," Hugh said one evening, "that I should doanything more about that race, if I were you, or if you do, don't layout any money on it. There is just as much interest in a race if it isfor a dollar or two as if all the boys in the outfit piled their moneyupon it. That horse beat yours pretty easily, quite as easy, I shouldsay, as Prince could beat him for that distance, and I really don'tthink that Prince would have any pull of him in races of the lengthyou have on here. In a twenty-mile gallop I feel sure he would leaveanything in camp behind easily, but I certainly would not race him anylong distance of that sort. If I had a troop of Indians after me Princewould have to do his best whether it was twenty miles or fifty; butI would not press him when it was merely a question of making moneyon him. Your horse was beaten, and, of course, we none of us like toown that the cross T's men have got a better horse than we have. I amquite willing that Prince should run for the honour of the ranche, butI don't feel at all sure about his winning, and should be sorry to seethe boys plank their dollars down heavily upon him."
"All right, Hugh! it is your horse, and I will do as you want; but Ishould like to take that fellow down a bit. He is one of those fellowsas is always blowing. He rather likes to be thought a bad man, and issaid to be very handy with his six-shooter."
On Sunday morning after breakfast was over the cow-boy in question,with two or three men of the same ranche, came across from their waggonto that of the [brand circle triangle] men.
"Have you got anything else that can go in this crowd?" he said,addressing Broncho Harry. "There don't seem any horses worth talkingabout in the whole round-up. Some of our boys say as how they have seenone of your lot on a likely-looking bay."
"Well, I don't deny he is a good-looking horse," Broncho Harry said,"and can go a bit, but he is slow at starting, and that critter ofyours is too speedy for the bay to have a chance of catching him upin a quarter of a mile. Make it a bit over, and I will ride him myselfagainst you if you like."
"I don't care about a half-mile," the man said, "but I will splitthe difference, if you like; or if you fancy your critter for a longjourney, I am open to make a match ten miles out and back, each side toput down two hundred dollars."
"What do you say to that, mate?" Broncho Harry said, turning to Hugh.
Hugh shook his head decidedly. "I wouldn't have him ridden at racingspeed twenty miles if there were a thousand dollars at stake," he said;"but if you like to take up the other offer you can ride him."
"Oh! it is your horse, is it?" the cow-boy said; "why don't you ridehim yourself?"
"Because I ride something like two stone heavier than you do," Hughsaid; "and if the horse is going to race he may as well have a fairchance."
"Well, how much shall it be for?" the cow-boy said, turning again toBroncho Harry. "I suppose we may as well say the same stake. A hundreddollars a side, I suppose. That won't hurt you if you fancy the horse."
Two or three of the [brand circle triangle] men broke in together,"Take him up, Broncho, we will all chip in."
"Very well, then, that is settled," Broncho Harry said. "Shall we sayfive o'clock? I suppose we shall ride the same course as last time. Iwill go out now and step the distance if you will go on with me."
"All right!" the man said; and they at once proceeded to mark out adistance of seven hundred paces, which they both agreed was somewhereabout half-way between a quarter and half a mile. A wand, to whichBroncho attached his neckerchief, was stuck up as the winning-post,while a low bush marked the point from which they had started tomeasure. The news soon spread through the camp, and many of thecow-boys of the other ranches strolled in to find out what the [brandcircle triangle] men thought of their chances, and to see whether theywere disposed to back their horse. Hugh, however, persuaded them not torisk their money.
"You see," he said, "my horse didn't beat Broncho's by much."
"No more did the other chap, Hugh; he just jumped two lengths ahead,and after that Broncho held him."
"Yes, I know that," Hugh replied, "but we don't know that he was doinghis best."
"That is so," Broncho agreed. "He knew he had got me, and there wasno use in giving his horse away. I expect he had got a bit in hand.I don't think it is good enough to bet on. Now let us get this moneytogether."
Twenty of the men put down their five dollars at once; and as theothers wished also to have a share, Broncho Harry said, "Well, youthree put in your five dollars each, and Hugh and I will make it up tofifty. Like enough they will be laying odds on their horse, especiallywhen they find we won't bet, so that at the last moment I will takethem up for this fifty, and if we win we will put it to the stakes anddivide up all round."
The proposal was at once agreed to.
Towards the afternoon they found that the [brand X] men were offeringthree and four to one upon their horse, for the odds had run uprapidly, as none of the other cow-boys were disposed to back the[brand circle triangle], seeing that the men of that ranche wouldnot bet on their horse. At the appointed hour the two competitorswent to the post. There had been several minor races, but these hadattracted comparatively little interest; every man in camp, however,had assembled for the purpose of seeing this contest, and they were nowgathered near the winning-post. A cow-boy belonging to a neutral ranchewas to act as starter. The two riders had divested themselves of theirheavy boots.
"You must shake him up to begin with, Broncho," Hugh had said to himbefore he mounted. "He will do his best afterwards. He hates beingpassed, and when he sees the other ahead of him he will go all heknows."
"Now," the starter said, when the two horses stood side by side in aline with him, "I shall walk on twenty or thirty yards ahead so thatyou can both see me, then I shall hold up my six-shooter and fire.Don't either of you start till I do. I may fire straight off. I maywait a minute after I have got my hand up. You have got to keep youreyes on me, and when you see the flash then you let them go."
Both men fastened their spurs on to their stockinged feet, and as thepistol went off struck their heels into their mounts, while, at thesame moment, Broncho Harry brought down his whip smartly on Prince'squarter. Astonished at this treatment, the animal gave a bound forwardand started at full gallop.
There was no occasion for the other man to use his whip; his horseknew what was expected of it, and with its hind legs gathered underit, had been expecting the signal, and was even more quickly away thanPrince. It did not, however, gain more than a length. For the firstthree hundred yards the horses maintained their relative position, butPrince was tugging at his bridle; and his rider, though shouting andyelling as if to urge him to his fullest speed, was yet holding him in.Then the leading horseman, thinking that Prince was doing his best, andfeeling certain that he had the race in hand, dug his spurs into hishorse, and the animal in a few bounds had added another length to hislead; but Broncho Harry loosened his pull at the reins and let Princego, and before another hundred yards had been passed his head was levelwith the other's stirrup.
The [brand X] man whipped and spurred, while Broncho Harry sat quiet onhis horse, and contented himself by maintaining his present position.When a hundred yards from home he shook his horse up, and slightlytouched him with his spur. Almost instantaneously Prince was levelwith his opponent, and then dashing on ahead passed the flag-post threelengths in advance amidst a loud cheer from the [brand circle triangle]men, and from most of the other cow-boys; for although few had venturedto back the horse, there was a general feeling of satisfaction atseeing the [brand X] man beaten. The latter without a word circledround and rode straight back to his waggon, and the stakeholder handedover the stake and bets, which had both been deposited with him, toBroncho Harry.
"Two hundred and fifty dollars," he said, as he put the roll of notesin his pocket, for the bets had been made at three to one. "I call thatan easier way of making money than cow-punching. I can't stand treat,boys, because there is no liquor in camp, but reme
mber I owe you oneall round the first time we meet in a saloon."
Returning to camp the division was made, and each of the twenty-fivemen received his share of ten dollars, together with the money he hadstaked.
"I shouldn't be surprised, Hugh," Broncho Harry said as they sat roundthe fire, "if we have trouble with that skunk. He is a bad-temperedlot at best, and he dropped his money heavy, for I hear he put in allthe stake himself, and he bet some besides. He took twenty off me lastweek, but he has dropped pretty well half his season's money. You seeif he don't try and get up trouble."
"If he does, leave him to me, Harry."
"I don't want to leave him to you, Hugh. I rode the race, and if hewants fighting, he will get it here; but I am afraid it is likelyenough he will try and make trouble with you. He knows that I am apretty tough hand, but he thinks you nothing but a tender-foot, andthat sort of fellow always fixes a quarrel on a soft if he gets thechance."
"Well, as you know, Harry, I can take care of myself, and I would muchrather it was me than you. I know that you are a good deal better shotthan I am, but you know you are not nearly so quick with your weapon.There would be no occasion to shoot, I fancy."
"You are right there, lad; if you get the drop on him, you will see hewill weaken directly."
The evening, however, passed off without the defeated cow-boy makinghis appearance.
"He reckons it wouldn't do," Long Tom said. "You see the hull crowdwould be agin him if he were to come and get up a muss because hehas been beat in a race. A fellow who runs his horse is bound tolook pleasant whether he wins or whether he loses, and a good manyof the boys was saying as they never see a worse thing than the wayhe galloped off after Broncho came in ahead of him. If he was to comedown here and make a muss, he knows that for sure the crowd wouldn'tstand it, and that if everything wasn't perfectly square, they wouldcome Judge Lynch on him in no time. Now a man may take the chance ofbeing shot in a quarrel; but when, if he ain't shot by one man he islikely to get hung by a crowd, it takes a pretty hard man to run thechances; only, look out for him, Broncho. I believe he has got a touchof Mexican blood in him, although, I dare say, he would shoot the manwho ventured to say so, only it is there for all that, and you know aMexican don't mind waiting months so that he gets even at last."
"That's so," Broncho Harry agreed; "a greaser is about the worst sortof white; that is, if you can call them white. I don't know but I hatethem more than Injuns."
On the following morning half No. 1 outfit started north, with aherd of 5000 cattle that had been picked out from those driven in andbranded; and Hugh, with his four mates, now took their turn at drivingin the herds to the yard. This was much more to Hugh's taste thanthe previous work had been. He did not mind the work of hauling outand throwing the calves, nor of keeping back the cows, but he hatedseeing the calves branded, and still more, the operation of cuttingtheir ears. It was, of course, necessary work, but it was painfulto him to share in, and indeed he had generally managed to get BillRoyce to exchange work with him when he was told off to perform theseoperations.
The herding, on the other hand, was good fun. The animals seemed tohave an instinctive repulsion for the stock-yard; many of them had beenbranded there the previous year, and probably recognized the spot. Atany rate, there were constant attempts to break away, and it needed allthe energy and vigilance of their guard to drive them down to the yard,and still more to keep them there while awaiting their turn to enterit. But more exciting still, and much more dangerous, was the workof those who kept guard at the lower end of the yard. As the animalscame out, the calves were half mad with terror and pain, and the cowsfurious at the defeat of their efforts to succour their offspring, sothat it was dangerous work for the men of the various ranches to pickout the animals bearing their brand and to drive them off to the knotof animals gathered at some little distance away under the guard of twoof their comrades.
Sometimes the cows made furious charges, which it needed all theagility of horse and rider to avoid; then, as the animal rushed past,a rope would be thrown over its head or under its leg, and an instantlater it would come to the ground with a crash. This generally provedsufficient. The cow, when the rope was slackened, rose to its feet ina half dazed way and walked heavily off, with the evident impressionupon its mind that an earthquake had taken place. Hugh was glad when heheard in the middle of the day that the rest of the outfit had arrivedwith the waggon and all the horses--for he felt that Prince had hadenough of it--and he at once galloped off, roped one of his own horses,shifted the saddle on to him, and went back to work.
One or two of the bulls gave a great deal of trouble, charging hitherand thither furiously as they came out from the yard. In these casesthree or four of the cow-boys united, and while one attracted hisattention, the others threw their ropes. Some of the bulls had to bethrown half a dozen times before they were subdued.
A few days later the [brand X] man, who went by the name of Flash Bill,walked up to the fire round which the cow-boys of No. 2 outfit weresitting.
"I have just come across to say I am sorry I rode off that day you beatme, Broncho. I allow it was a mean trick of me, but I was riled prettyconsiderable; still I oughtn't ter have done it; it wurn't the rightthing."
"It wurn't," Harry said; "but now you own up there is an end of it. Sitright down and have a smoke."
For some time the conversation turned upon horses. Two or three othermen of the [brand X] ranche sauntered up and joined in. Presently FlashBill turned to Hugh, who had taken no part in the conversation, andsaid, "Have you a mind to trade that horse?"
"No, I wouldn't sell it at any price," Hugh said. "It exactly suits me,and I should find difficulty in getting another as good."
"Seems to me as I have seen that horse before," the man said. "Had himlong?"
"I have had him about eight months," Hugh replied.
"Curious; I seem to know him. Can't think where I have seen him;somewhere out West."
"I bought him at M'Kinney," Hugh said.
"Oh! You bought him, did you?"
"How do you suppose I got him?" Hugh asked shortly.
"Oh! there are plenty of horses out on these plains as never was paidfor," Flash Bill said.
"I don't say there are not," Hugh replied. "At any rate, I expect youare a better authority about that than I am."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean exactly what I say," Hugh said quietly.
"Do you mean to say as I have been a horse-thief!" the man exclaimedfuriously.
"I mean to say exactly what I did say," Hugh replied.
"Then you are a liar!" and the man's hand went to his hip. To hisastonishment, before his finger had closed on the butt of his pistol,he was looking down the barrel of Hugh's revolver.
"Drop that," Hugh exclaimed, "or I fire!" Flash Bill threw up his hand.
"Now you will take that back," Hugh said.
"I take it back," Flash Bill said sullenly. "You've got the drop onme, though how you did it I don't know. There ain't nothing more to besaid. I take it back."
"There is an end of it, then," Hugh said, replacing his pistol in hisbelt. "You thought you had got a soft thing. You see you've made amistake."
"You had better git, Flash Bill," Broncho Harry said. "You ain't wantedhere. You came over to make a muss, and only I knowed as Hugh couldhold his own with you I would have put a bullet into you myself whenI saw your hand go to your pistol. You git, and if you will take myadvice, you will git altogether. You can't play the bad man in thiscamp any longer, after weakening before a young chap as is little morethan a tender-foot."
With a muttered execration Flash Bill got up, and, followed by the menof his own ranche, walked off.
"You did mighty well, considering that it is the first trouble you'vebeen in, Hugh; but you did wrong in not shooting. The rule on theplains is, if one man calls another either a liar or a coward, thatfellow has a right to shoot him down if he can get his gun out first.That's the rule, ain't it, boys?"
There was a chorus of assent.
"You may call a man pretty nigh everything else, and it don't go formuch. We ain't chice as to our words here; but them two words, liar andcoward, is death, and you would have done well to have shot him. Youbet, you'll have trouble with that fellow some day. You'll see he willgo now, but you'll hear of him again."
"I could no more have shot him than I could have flown," Hugh said,"for he was really unarmed."
"He would have shot you if he had been heeled first," Long Tom said,"and there ain't a man in the camp but would have said that you hadbeen perfectly right if you had shot him, for it is sartin he came overhere bound to kill you. I agree with Broncho. You have done a mightysoft thing, and maybe you will be sorry for it some day. I have heardsay that Flash Bill has been a mighty hard man in his time, and I guessas stealing horses ain't been the worse thing he has done, and I reckonhe has come back here to work for a bit, because he has made it too hotfor himself in the settlements. Well, it's a pity you didn't shoot."
The next morning, as they were saddling their horses, Flash Billrode past. He had his blankets and kit strapped behind his saddle. Hechecked his horse as he came up to them. "I give you warning," he saidto Hugh, "that I'll shoot at sight when we meet again! You too, BronchoHarry."
"All right!" Broncho Harry replied. "We shall both be ready for you."Without another word Flash Bill put spurs to his horse and gallopedaway.
This was the regular form of challenge among the cow-boys. Sometimesafter a quarrel, in which one had got the drop of the other, and thelatter had been obliged to "take back" what he had said, mutual friendswould interfere; and if the row had taken place when one or other ofthe men had been drinking, or when there was no previous malice ordislike between the men, the matter would be made up and things goon as before. If, however, the quarrel had been a deliberate one,and one or other considered himself still aggrieved, he would takehis discharge and leave the camp on the following morning, giving hisantagonist notice that he should shoot at sight when they next met,and whether the meeting was alone on the plains, in a drinking saloon,or in a street, both parties would draw and fire the moment their eyesfell on each other.
That Flash Bill should have been forced to take back his words bythis young hand of the [brand circle triangle] ranch was a matter ofthe deepest astonishment to the camp, and Hugh found himself quite apopular character, for Flash Bill had made himself very obnoxious; andwith the exception of two or three men of his own stamp in the [brandX] outfit, the men of that body were more pleased than anyone else thatthe bully had had to leave. None were more astonished than the men ofthe other outfits of the [brand circle triangle] ranche. They had heardHugh addressed as Lightning; but curiosity is not a cow-boy failing,and few had given a thought as to how he had come by the appellation.One or two had asked the question, but Broncho Harry had, the nightbefore his party started to the round-up, said to the others, "Lookhere, boys. If anyone asks how Lightning Hugh came by his name, don'tyou give him away. They will larn one of these days, and it will be asgood as a theyater when he does that gun trick of his. So keep it darkfrom the other boys."
The few questions asked, therefore, had been met with a laugh.
"It is a sort of joke of ours," Broncho Harry had said to one of thequestioners. "You will see one of these days why it fits him."
Hugh was not sorry when the time came for his outfit to start. Theyhad charge of a herd of eight or nine thousand animals all belonging tothe [brand circle triangle]. It was customary for most of the ranchesto drive their own cattle, after a round-up, towards the neighbourhoodof their station for the convenience of cutting out the steers thatwere to be sent down to market, or herds, principally of cows andcalves, for purchasers who intended to establish ranches in the stillunoccupied territory in New Mexico, Colorado, Dakota, and Montana. Someof these herds would have thousands of miles to travel, and be manymonths upon the journey. Many of the cow-boys looked forward to takingservice with these herds, and trying life under new conditions in thenorthern territories.
When the beef herds, and such cow herds as the manager of the ranchewished to sell, had been picked out and sent off, the rest of thecattle would be free to wander anywhere they liked over the wholecountry until they were again swept together for the round-up, unlessother sales were effected in the meantime, in which case parties ofcow-boys would go out to cut out and drive in the number required. Thenumber of cattle collected at the rounds-up was enormous, many of theranches owning from forty to eighty thousand cattle. A considerablenumber were not driven in at the round-up, as the greater portion ofthe beef-cattle, which had already been branded, were cut out and leftbehind by the various outfits, and only the cows and calves, with a fewbulls to serve as leaders, were driven in. Nevertheless, at these greatrounds-up in Texas, the number of the animals collected mounted up tobetween two and three hundred thousand.
Two-thirds of the work was over when No. 2 outfit of the [brand circletriangle] ranche started.
"Well, I am glad that is over, Bill," Hugh said, as they halted at theend of the first day's march.
"I am not sorry," Bill Royce replied; "it is desperate hard work. Allday at the stock-yard, and half one's time at night on guard with theherds, is a little too much for anyone."
"Yes, it has been hard work," Hugh said; "but I don't think I meantthat so much as that it was not so pleasant in other ways as usual.The men are too tired to talk or sing of an evening. One breakfasted,or rather swallowed one's food half asleep before daylight, tookone's dinner standing while at work, and was too tired to enjoy one'ssupper."
"I reckon it has been a good round-up," Broncho Harry said. "There havebeen only four men killed by the cattle, and there haven't been morethan five or six shooting scrapes. Let me think! yes, only five menhave been shot."
"That is five too many, Broncho," Hugh said.
"Well, that is so in one way, Hugh; but you see we should never get onout here without shooting."
"Why shouldn't we?"
"Because we are an all-fired rough lot out here. There ain't no law,and no sheriffs, and no police, and no troops. How in thunder would youkeep order if it weren't for the six-shooter? Thar would be no peace,and the men would be always quarrelling and wrangling. How would youwork it anyhow? It is just because a quarrel means a shooting scrapethat men don't quarrel, and that every one keeps a civil tongue inhis head. There ain't nowhere in the world where there is so littlequarrelling as out here on the plains. You see, if we didn't all carrysix-shooters, and were ready to use them, the bad-tempered men, andthe hard men, would have it their own way. Big fellows like you wouldbe able to bully little fellows like me. We should get all the badmen from the towns whenever they found the settlements too hot forthem. We should have murderers, and gamblers, and horse-thieves comingand mixing themselves up with us. I tell you, Hugh, that without therevolver there would be no living out here. No, sirree, the six-shooterputs us all on a level, and each man has got to respect another. Idon't say as there ain't a lot wiped out every year, because there is;but I say that it is better so than it would be without it. When theseplains get settled up, and the grangers have their farms on them, andthe great cattle ranches go, and you get sheriffs, and judges, andall that, the six-shooter will go too, but you can't do without ittill then. The revolver is our sheriff, and judge, and executioner allrolled in one. No one who is quiet and peaceable has got much occasionto use it."
"I nearly had to use it the other day, Broncho, and I reckon I am quietand peaceable."
"Waal, I don't altogether know about that, Hugh. I don't say as youwant to quarrel, quite the contrary, but you made up your mind beforeyou came here that if you got into trouble you were going to fight, andyou practised and practised until you got so quick that you are sureyou can get the drop on anyone you get into a muss with. So though youdon't want to get in a quarrel, if anyone wants to quarrel with youyou are ready to take him up. Now if it hadn't been so there wouldn'thave been any shooting-irons o
ut the other night. Flash Bill came overto get up a quarrel. He was pretty well bound to get up a quarrel withsome one, but if you had been a downright peaceable chap he could nothave got up a quarrel with you. If you had said quietly, when he kindersaid as how you hadn't come by that horse honest, that Bill here hadbeen with you when you bought him, and that you got a document in yourpocket, signed by a sheriff and a judge, to prove that you had paid forit, there would have been no words with you. I don't say as Flash Bill,who was just spoiling for a fight, wouldn't have gone at somebody else.Likely enough he would have gone at me. Waal, if I had been a quiet andpeaceable chap I should have weakened too, and so it would have gone onuntil he got hold of somebody as wasn't going to weaken to no one, andthen the trouble would have begun. I don't say as this is the place foryour downright peaceable man, but I say if such a one comes here he canmanage to go through without mixing himself up in shooting scrapes."
"But in that way a man like Flash Bill, let us say, who is known to beready to use his pistol, might bully a whole camp."
"Yas, if they wur all peaceable people; but then, you see, they ain't.This sort of life ain't good for peaceable people. We take our chancespretty well every day of getting our necks broke one way or another,and when that is so one don't think much more of the chance of beingshot than of other chances. Besides, a man ain't allowed to carry ontoo bad. If he forces a fight on another and shoots him, shoots himfair, mind you, the boys get together and say this can't go on; andthat man is told to git, and when he is told that he has got to, ifhe don't he knows what he has got to expect. No, sirree, I don't sayas everything out in the plains is just arranged as it might be in NewYork; but I say that, take the life as it is, I don't see as it couldbe arranged better. There was a chap out here for a bit as had read upno end of books, and he said it was just the same sort of thing wayback in Europe, when every man carried his sword by his side and wasalways fighting duels, till at last the kings got strong enough to makelaws to put it down and managed things without it; and that's the wayit will be in this country. Once the law is strong enough to punishbad men, and make it so that there ain't no occasion for a fellow tocarry about a six-shooter to protect his life, then the six-shooterwill go. But that won't be for a long time yet. Why, if it wasn't forus cow-boys, there wouldn't be no living in the border settlements. Thehorse-thieves and the outlaws would just rampage about as they pleased,and who would follow them out on the plains and into the mountains? Butthey know we won't have them out here, and that there would be no moremarcy shown to them if they fell into our hands than there would beto a rattler. Then, again, who is it keeps the Injuns in order? Do youthink it is Uncle Sam's troops? Why, the Red-skins just laugh at them.It's the cow-boys."
"It ain't so long ago," Long Tom put in, "as a boss commissioner cameout to talk with the natives, and make them presents, and get them tolive peaceful. People out in the east, who don't know nothing aboutInjuns, are always doing some foolish thing like that. The big chiefhe listens to the commissioner, and when he has done talking to him,and asks what presents he should like, the chief said as the thingthat would most tickle him would be half a dozen cannons with plenty ofammunition."
"'But,' says the commissioner, 'we can't give you cannon to fight ourtroops with.'
"'Troops!' says the chief; 'who cares about the troops? We can justdrive them whenever we like. We want the cannon to fight the cow-boys.'
"That chief knew what was what. It is the cow-boys as keep back theRed-skins, it's the cow-boys as prevent these plains getting filled upwith outlaws and horse-thieves, and the cow-boys can do it 'cause eachman has got six lives pretty sartin at his belt, and as many more as hehas time to slip in fresh cartridges for; and because we don't placemuch valley on our lives, seeing as we risk them every day. We knowthey ain't likely to be long anyhow. What with death among the herds,shooting scrapes, broken limbs, and one thing and another, and thework which wears out the strongest in a few years, a cow-boy's life isbound to be a short one. You won't meet one in ten who is over thirty.It ain't like other jobs. We don't go away and take up with anothertrade. What should we be fit for? A man that has lived on horseback,and spent his life galloping over the plains, what is he going to dowhen he ain't no longer fit for this work? He ain't going to hoe acorn-patch or wear a biled shirt and work in a store. He ain't going toturn lawyer, or set up to make boots or breeches. No, sirree. He knowsas ten years is about as much as he can reckon on if his chances aregood, and that being so, he don't hold nothing particular to his life.We ain't got no wives and no children. We works hard for our money, andwhen we gets it we spend it mostly in a spree. We are ready to shareit with any mate as comes along hard up. It might be better, and itmight be worse. Anyway, I don't see no chance of changing it as longas there is room out west for cattle ranches. Another hundred years andthe grangers will have got the land and the cow-boys will be gone, butit will last our time anyhow."
Hugh was much struck with this estimate of a cow-boy's life by one ofthemselves, but on thinking it over he saw that it was a true one.These men were the adventurous spirits of the United States. Hadthey been born in England they would have probably either enlistedor run away as boys and gone to sea. They were men to whom a life ofaction was a necessity. Their life resembled rather that of the Arabor the Red Indian than that of civilized men. Their senses had becomepreternaturally acute; their eyesight was wonderful. They could hearthe slightest sound, and pronounce unhesitatingly how it was caused.There was not an ounce of unnecessary flesh upon them. Their musclesseemed to have hardened into whip-cord.
They were capable of standing the most prolonged fatigue and hardship,and just as a wild stag will run for a considerable distance afterreceiving a wound that would be instantly fatal to a domestic animal,these men could, as he had seen for himself, and still more, as hehad heard many anecdotes to prove, sustain wounds and injuries of themost terrible kind and yet survive, seeming, in many cases, almostinsensible to pain. They were, in fact, a race apart, and had verymany good qualities and comparatively few bad ones. They were, indeed,as Long Tom had said, reckless of their lives, and they spent theirearnings in foolish dissipation. But they knew of no better way. Thelittle border-towns or Mexican villages they frequented offered noother amusements, and except for clothes and ammunition for theirpistols they had literally no other need for their money.
Nothing could exceed the kindness with which they nursed each other inillness or their generosity to men in distress. They were devoted tothe interests of their employers, undergoing, as a matter of course,the most prolonged and most prodigious exertions. They were frank,good-tempered, and kindly in their intercourse with each other, asaddicted to practical jokes as so many school-boys, and joining asheartily in the laugh when they happened to be the victims as when theywere the perpetrators of the joke. Their code of honour was perhaps aprimitive one, but they lived up to it strictly, and in spite of itshardships and its dangers there was an irresistible fascination in thewild life that they led.