by Andy Adams
V
A COLLEGE VAGABOND
The ease and apparent willingness with which some men revert to anaimless life can best be accounted for by the savage or barbarianinstincts of our natures. The West has produced many types of thevagabond,--it might be excusable to say, won them from every conditionof society. From the cultured East, with all the advantages whichwealth and educational facilities can give to her sons, they flocked;from the South, with her pride of ancestry, they came; even theBritish Isles contributed their quota. There was something in theprimitive West of a generation or more ago which satisfied them.Nowhere else could it be found, and once they adapted themselves toexisting conditions, they were loath to return to former associations.
About the middle of the fifties, there graduated from one of ourEastern colleges a young man of wealthy and distinguished family. Hiscollege record was good, but close application to study during thelast year had told on his general health. His ambition, coupled with alaudable desire to succeed, had buoyed up his strength until the finalgraduation day had passed.
Alexander Wells had the advantage of a good physical constitution.During the first year at college his reputation as an athlete had beenfirmly established by many a hard fought contest in the college games.The last two years he had not taken an active part in them, as hisstudies had required his complete attention. On his return home, itwas thought by parents and sisters that rest and recreation would soonrestore the health of this overworked young graduate, who was nowtwo years past his majority. Two months of rest, however, failed toproduce any improvement, but the family physician would not admit thatthere was immediate danger, and declared the trouble simply the resultof overstudy, advising travel. This advice was very satisfactoryto the young man, for he had a longing to see other sections of thecountry.
The elder Wells some years previously had become interested in westernand southern real estate, and among other investments which he hadmade was the purchase of an old Spanish land grant on a stream calledthe Salado, west of San Antonio, Texas. These land grants were madeby the crown of Spain to favorite subjects. They were known by name,which they always retained when changing ownership. Some of thesetracts were princely domains, and were bartered about as thoughworthless, often changing owners at the card-table.
So when travel was suggested to Wells, junior, he expressed a desireto visit this family possession, and possibly spend a winter in itswarm climate. This decision was more easily reached from the factthat there was an abundance of game on the land, and being a devotedsportsman, his own consent was secured in advance. No other reasonexcept that of health would ever have gained the consent of hismother to a six months' absence. But within a week after reaching thedecision, the young man had left New York and was on his way to Texas.His route, both by water and rail, brought him only within eightymiles of his destination, and the rest of the distance he was obligedto travel by stage.
San Antonio at this time was a frontier village, with a mixedpopulation, the Mexican being the most prominent inhabitant. There wasmuch to be seen which was new and attractive to the young Easterner,and he tarried in it several days, enjoying its novel and picturesquelife. The arrival and departure of the various stage lines for theaccommodation of travelers like himself was of more than passinginterest. They rattled in from Austin and Laredo. They were sometimeslate from El Paso, six hundred miles to the westward. Probably a brushwith the Indians, or the more to be dreaded Mexican bandits (forthese stages carried treasure--gold and silver, the currency of thecountry), was the cause of the delay. Frequently they carried guards,whose presence was generally sufficient to command the respect of theaverage robber.
Then there were the freight trains, the motive power of which wasmules and oxen. It was necessary to carry forward supplies and bringback the crude products of the country. The Chihuahua wagon was drawnsometimes by twelve, sometimes by twenty mules, four abreast inthe swing, the leaders and wheelers being single teams. For mutualprotection trains were made up of from ten to twenty wagons. Driversfrequently meeting a chance acquaintance going in an oppositedirection would ask, "What is your cargo?" and the answer would befrankly given, "Specie." Many a Chihuahua wagon carried three or fourtons of gold and silver, generally the latter. Here was a new bookfor this college lad, one he had never studied, though it wasmore interesting to him than some he had read. There was somethingthrilling in all this new life. He liked it. The romance was real; itwas not an imitation. People answered his few questions and asked nonein return.
In this frontier village at a late hour one night young Wellsoverheard this conversation: "Hello, Bill," said the case-keeper ina faro game, as he turned his head halfway round to see who was theowner of the monster hand which had just reached over his shoulder andplaced a stack of silver dollars on a card, marking it to win, "I'vemissed you the last few days. Where have you been so long?"
"Oh, I've just been out to El Paso on a little pasear guarding thestage," was the reply. Now the little pasear was a continuous nightand day round-trip of twelve hundred miles. Bill had slept and eatenas he could. When mounted, he scouted every possible point of ambushfor lurking Indian or bandit. Crossing open stretches of country, heclimbed up on the stage and slept. Now having returned, he was anxiousto get his wages into circulation. Here were characters worthy of apassing glance.
Interesting as this frontier life was to the young man, he preparedfor his final destination. He had no trouble in locating his father'sproperty, for it was less than twenty miles from San Antonio. Securingan American who spoke Spanish, the two set out on horseback. Therewere several small ranchitos on the tract, where five or six Mexicanfamilies lived. Each family had a field and raised corn for bread. Aflock of goats furnished them milk and meat. The same class of peoplein older States were called squatters, making no claim to ownershipof the land. They needed little clothing, the climate being in theirfavor.
The men worked at times. The pecan crop which grew along the creekbottoms was beginning to have a value in the coast towns for shipmentto northern markets, and this furnished them revenue for their simpleneeds. All kinds of game was in abundance, including waterfowl inwinter, though winter here was only such in name. These simple peoplegave a welcome to the New Yorker which appeared sincere. They offeredno apology for their presence on this land, nor was such in order, forit was the custom of the country. They merely referred to themselvesas "his people," as though belonging to the land.
When they learned that he was the son of the owner of the grant, andthat he wanted to spend a few months hunting and looking about,they considered themselves honored. The best jacal in the group wastendered him and his interpreter. The food offered was something new,but the relish with which his companion partook of it assisted youngWells in overcoming his scruples, and he ate a supper of dishes he hadnever tasted before. The coffee he declared was delicious.
On the advice of his companion they had brought along blankets. Thewomen of the ranchito brought other bedding, and a comfortable bedsoon awaited the Americanos. The owner of the jacal in the mean timeinformed his guest through the interpreter that he had sent to anear-by ranchito for a man who had at least the local reputation ofbeing quite a hunter. During the interim, while awaiting the arrivalof the man, he plied his guest with many questions regarding theoutside world, of which his ideas were very simple, vague, andextremely provincial. His conception of distance was what he couldride in a given number of days on a good pony. His ideas of wealthwere no improvement over those of his Indian ancestors of a centuryprevious. In architecture, the jacal in which they sat satisfied hisideals.
The footsteps of a horse interrupted their conversation. A few momentslater, Tiburcio, the hunter, was introduced to the two Americans witha profusion of politeness. There was nothing above the ordinary inthe old hunter, except his hair, eyes, and swarthy complexion, whichindicated his Aztec ancestry. It might be in perfect order to remarkhere that young Wells was perfectly composed, almost indifferent tothe company and s
urroundings. He shook hands with Tiburcio in a manneras dignified, yet agreeable, as though he was the governor of hisnative State or the minister of some prominent church at home. Fromthis juncture, he at once took the lead in the conversation, and keptup a line of questions, the answers to which were very gratifying.He learned that deer were very plentiful everywhere, and that on thisvery tract of land were several wild turkey roosts, where it wasno trouble to bag any number desired. On the prairie portion of thesurrounding country could be found large droves of antelope. Duringdrouthy periods they were known to come twenty miles to quench theirthirst in the Salado, which was the main watercourse of this grant.Once Tiburcio assured his young patron that he had frequently counteda thousand antelope during a single morning. Then there was also thejaveline or peccary which abounded in endless numbers, but it wasnecessary to hunt them with dogs, as they kept the thickets and cameout in the open only at night. Many a native cur met his end huntingthese animals, cut to pieces with their tusks, so that packs, trainedfor the purpose, were used to bay them until the hunter could arriveand dispatch them with a rifle. Even this was always done fromhorseback, as it was dangerous to approach the javeline, for theywould, when aroused, charge anything.
All this was gratifying to young Wells, and like a congenial fellow,he produced and showed the old hunter a new gun, the very latest modelin the market, explaining its good qualities through his interpreter.Tiburcio handled it as if it were a rare bit of millinery, but managedto ask its price and a few other questions. Through his companion,Wells then engaged the old hunter's services for the following day;not that he expected to hunt, but he wanted to acquaint himself withthe boundaries of the land and to become familiar with the surroundingcountry. Naming an hour for starting in the morning, the two men shookhands and bade each other good-night, each using his own language toexpress the parting, though neither one knew a word the other said.The first link in a friendship not soon to be broken had been forged.
Tiburcio was on hand at the appointed hour in the morning, and beingjoined by the two Americans they rode off up the stream. It wasOctober, and the pecans, they noticed, were already falling, asthey passed through splendid groves of this timber, several timesdismounting to fill their pockets with nuts. Tiburcio frequentlycalled attention to fresh deer tracks near the creek bottom, andshortly afterward the first game of the day was sighted. Five or sixdoes and grown fawns broke cover and ran a short distance, stopped,looked at the horsemen, and then capered away.
Riding to the highest ground in the vicinity, they obtained a splendidview of the stream, outlined by the foliage of the pecan groves thatlined its banks as far as the eye could follow either way. Tiburciopointed out one particular grove lying three or four miles farther upthe creek. Here he said was a cabin which had been built by a whiteman who had left it several years ago, and which he had often used asa hunting camp in bad weather. Feeling his way cautiously, Wells askedthe old hunter if he were sure that this cabin was on and belonged tothe grant. Being assured on both points, he then inquired if there wasanything to hinder him from occupying the hut for a few months. On thefurther assurance that there was no man to dispute his right, he beganplying his companions with questions. The interpreter told him that itwas a very common and simple thing for men to batch, enumerating thefew articles he would need for this purpose.
They soon reached the cabin, which proved to be an improvement overthe ordinary jacal of the country, as it had a fireplace and chimney.It was built of logs; the crevices were chinked with clay for mortar,its floor being of the same substance. The only Mexican feature itpossessed was the thatched roof. While the Americans were examining itand its surroundings, Tiburcio unsaddled the horses, picketing one andhobbling the other two, kindled a fire, and prepared a lunch from somearticles he had brought along. The meal, consisting of coffee, chippedvenison, and a thin wafer bread made from corn and reheated overcoals, was disposed of with relish. The two Americans sauntered aroundfor some distance, and on their return to the cabin found Tiburcioenjoying his siesta under a near-by pecan tree.
Their horses refreshed and rested, they resaddled, crossing thestream, intending to return to the ranchito by evening. After leavingthe bottoms of the creek, Tiburcio showed the young man a trail madeby the javeline, and he was surprised to learn that an animal with sosmall a foot was a dangerous antagonist, on account of its gregariousnature. Proceeding they came to several open prairies, in one ofwhich they saw a herd of antelope, numbering forty to fifty, makinga beautiful sight as they took fright and ran away. Young Wellsafterward learned that distance lent them charms and was the greatestfactor in their beauty. As they rode from one vantage-point to anotherfor the purpose of sight-seeing, the afternoon passed rapidly.
Later, through the interpreter he inquired of Tiburcio if his servicescould be secured as guide, cook, and companion for the winter, sincehe had fully made up his mind to occupy the cabin. Tiburcio wasoverjoyed at the proposition, as it was congenial to his tastes,besides carrying a compensation. Definite arrangements were nowmade with him, and he was requested to be on hand in the morning. Onreaching the ranchito, young Wells's decision was announced to theirhost of the night previous, much to the latter's satisfaction. Duringthe evening the two Americans planned to return to the village in themorning for the needed supplies. Tiburcio was on hand at the appointedtime, and here unconsciously the young man fortified himself in theold hunter's confidence by intrusting him with the custody of his gun,blankets, and several other articles until he should return.
A week later found the young hunter established in the cabin with theinterpreter and Tiburcio. A wagon-load of staple supplies was snuglystored away for future use, and they were at peace with the world.By purchase Wells soon had several saddle ponies, and the old hunteradding his pack of javeline dogs, they found themselves well equippedfor the winter campaign.
Hunting, in which the young man was an apt scholar, was now the orderof the day. Tiburcio was an artist in woodcraft as well as inhis knowledge of the habits of animals and birds. On chilly ordisagreeable days they would take out the pack of dogs and beat thethickets for the javeline. It was exciting sport to bring to bay adrove of these animals. To shoot from horseback lent a charm, yet madeaim uncertain, nor was it advisable to get too close range. Many ayoung dog made a fatal mistake in getting too near this little animal,and the doctoring of crippled dogs became a daily duty. All surplusgame was sent to the ranchito below, where it was always appreciated.
At first the young man wrote regularly long letters home, but as ittook Tiburcio a day to go to the post-office, he justified himselfin putting writing off, sometimes several weeks, because it ruineda whole day and tired out a horse to mail a letter. Hardships wereenjoyed. They thought nothing of spending a whole night going from oneturkey roost to another, if half a dozen fine birds were the reward.They would saddle up in the evening and ride ten miles, sleepingout all night by a fire in order to stalk a buck at daybreak, havinglocated his range previously.
Thus the winter passed, and as the limit of the young man's vacationwas near at hand, Wells wrote home pleading for more time, telling hisfriends how fast he was improving, and estimating that it would takeat least six months more to restore him fully to his former health.This request being granted, he contented himself by riding about thecountry, even visiting cattle ranches south on the Frio River. Now andthen he would ride into San Antonio for a day or two, but therewas nothing new to be seen there, and his visits were brief. He hadacquired a sufficient knowledge of Spanish to get along now without aninterpreter.
When the summer was well spent, he began to devise some excuse to givehis parents for remaining another winter. Accordingly he wrote hisfather what splendid opportunities there were to engage in cattleranching, going into detail very intelligently in regard tothe grasses on the tract and the fine opportunity presented forestablishing a ranch. The water privileges, the faithfulness ofTiburcio, and other minor matters were fully set forth, and heconcluded by advising
that they buy or start a brand of cattle on thisgrant. His father's reply was that he should expect his son to returnas soon as the state of his health would permit. He wished to be adutiful son, yet he wished to hunt just one more winter.
So he felt that he must make another tack to gain his point. Followingletters noted no improvement in his health. Now, as the hunting seasonwas near at hand, he found it convenient to bargain with a renegadedoctor, who, for the consideration offered, wrote his parents thattheir son had recently consulted him to see if it would beadvisable to return to a rigorous climate in his present condition.Professionally he felt compelled to advise him not to think of leavingTexas for at least another year. To supplement this, the son wrotethat he hoped to be able to go home in the early spring. This had thedesired effect. Any remorse of conscience he may have felt over thedeception resorted to was soon forgotten in following a pack of houndsor stalking deer, for hunting now became the order of the day. Theantlered buck was again in his prime. His favorite range was carefullynoted. Very few hunts were unrewarded by at least one or more shotsat this noble animal. With an occasional visitor, the winter passedas had the previous one. Some congenial spirit would often spend a fewdays with them, and his departure was always sincerely regretted.
The most peculiar feature of the whole affair was the friendship ofthe young man for Tiburcio. The latter was the practical hunter, whichactual experience only can produce. He could foretell the coming ofa norther twenty-four hours in advance. Just which course deer wouldgraze he could predict by the quarter of the wind. In woodcraft he wasa trustworthy though unquoted authority. His young patron often showedhim his watch and explained how it measured time, but he had no usefor it. He could tell nearly enough when it was noon, and if thestars were shining he knew midnight within a few minutes. This he hadlearned when a shepherd. He could track a wounded deer for miles, whenanother could not see a trace of where the animal had passed. He couldrecognize the footprint of his favorite saddle pony among a thousandothers. How he did these things he did not know himself. Thesecompanions were graduates of different schools, extremes of differentnationalities. Yet Alexander Wells had no desire to elevate the oldhunter to his own standard, preferring to sit at his feet.
But finally the appearance of blades of grass and early flowerswarned them that winter was gone and that spring was at hand. Theiroccupation, therefore, was at an end. Now how to satisfy the folksat home and get a further extension of time was the truant's supremeobject. While he always professed obedience to parental demands, yetrebellion was brewing, for he did not want to go East--not just yet.Imperative orders to return were artfully parried. Finally remittanceswere withheld, but he had no use for money. Coercion was bad policyto use in his case. Thus a third and a fourth winter passed, and theyoung hunter was enjoying life on the Salado, where questions of stateand nation did not bother him.
But this existence had an end. One day in the spring a conveyancedrove up to the cabin, and an elderly, well-dressed woman alighted.With the assistance of her driver she ran the gauntlet of dogs andreached the cabin door, which was open. There, sitting inside on adry cow-skin which was spread on the clay floor, was the object ofher visit, surrounded by a group of Mexican companions, playing a gamecalled monte. The absorbing interest taken in the cards had preventedthe inmates of the jacal from noticing the lady's approach untilshe stood opposite the door. On the appearance of a woman, the gameinstantly ceased. Recognition was mutual, but neither mother nor sonspoke a word. Her eye took in the surroundings at a glance. Finallyshe spoke with a half-concealed imperiousness of tone, though hervoice was quiet and kindly.
"Alexander, if you wish to see your mother, come to San Antonio, won'tyou, please?" and turning, she retraced her steps toward the carriage.
Her son arose from his squatting posture, hitching up one side of histrousers, then the other, for he was suspenderless, and following ata distance, scratching his head and hitching his trousers alternately,he at last managed to say, "Ah, well--why--if you can wait a fewmoments till I change my clothes, I'll--I'll go with you right now."
This being consented to, he returned to the cabin, made the necessarychange, and stood before them a picture of health, bewhiskered andbronzed like a pirate. As he was halfway to the vehicle, he turnedback, and taking the old black hands of Tiburcio in his own, said ingood Spanish, though there was a huskiness in his voice, "That ladyis my mother. I may never see you again. I don't think I will. You mayhave for your own everything I leave."
There were tears in the old hunter's eyes as he relinquished youngWells's hands and watched him fade from his sight. His mother, unableto live longer without him, had made the trip from New York, and nowthat she had him in her possession there was no escape. They took thefirst stage out of the village that night on their return trip for NewYork State.
But the mother's victory was short-lived and barren. Within threeyears after the son's return, he failed in two business enterprises inwhich his father started him. Nothing discouraged, his parents offeredhim a third opportunity, it containing, however, a marriage condition.But the voice of a siren, singing of flowery prairies and pecan groveson the Salado, in which could be heard the music of hounds and theclattering of horses' hoofs at full speed following, filled everyniche and corner of his heart, and he balked at the marriage offer.
When the son had passed his thirtieth year, his parents becameresigned and gave their consent to his return to Texas. Long beforeparental consent was finally obtained, it was evident to his manyfriends that the West had completely won him; and once the desireof his heart was secured, the languid son beamed with energy inoutfitting for his return. He wrung the hands of old friends with anew grip, and with boyish enthusiasm announced his early departure.
On the morning of leaving, quite a crowd of friends and relativesgathered at the depot to see him off. But when a former college chumattempted to remonstrate with him on the social sacrifice which he wasmaking, he turned to the group of friends, and smilingly said, "That'sall right. You are honest in thinking that New York is God's country.But out there in Texas also is, for it is just as God made it. Why,I'm going to start a cattle ranch as soon as I get there and go backto nature. Don't pity me. Rather let me pity you, who think, act, andlook as if turned out of the same mill. Any social sacrifices whichI make in leaving here will be repaid tenfold by the freedom andadvantages of the boundless West."