Tales from the X-bar Horse Camp: The Blue-Roan Outlaw and Other Stories

by Will C. Barnes

  PABLO

  By permission _The Breeder's Gazette_, Chicago, Ill.

  "And Pablo."

  "Senor?" And the boy looked inquiringly at the speaker. "You stay righthere around this meadow. Here's plenty of feed and water for your bandtill I come back from town. Savvey?"

  "Si, Senor."

  "I won't be gone but three days, Pablo," continued the man, shiftinguneasily in his saddle, "an' it's a tough deal to give you, but there'snothing else to do. That misable, onery Mack is drunk down in town an'won't never git out till his money's all gone an' somebody takes him bythe scruff of the neck an' kicks him out of the saloon an' loads himonto his horse. You've got twelve hundred ewes an' 'leven hundred of thebest lambs that this here range has ever seen. There's ten _negros_,_tres campanas_, an' _cinco chivos_; reckon you can keep track of 'emall?"

  "Si, Senor," assented the boy, in whose veins flowed the blood of almostthree centuries of sheepherders, "_tres_ bells-_campanas_," and threefingers indicated the number of belled ewes in the bunch, "_cinco_goats," and one outspread hand showed the number of goats with the ewes,"_diez_ black-a markers," holding up all ten fingers.

  "That's right, _muchacho_," answered the man; "you keep track of yourmarkers an' bells an' goats, an' you won't lose any sheep. There'splenty of water here for your camp, and the sheep won't need any forsome days. There's a lot of poison weeds lower down on the mountain, an'it won't do to graze the band that-a-way. Take 'em up toward the top ifyou go anywhere; but keep your camp here an' stay with it till I comeback, savvey?"

  "Si, Senor," with a quick nod of the head.

  The man dropped off his horse, gave the curly black mop on the boy'shead a hasty pat, picked up the lead rope of a pack mule standing nearand, mounting, rode off down the trail.

  The little meadow was located on a small bench high on the breast of amountain whose bare granite peaks rose rough and ragged far above thetimber line. At one side of the meadow, under a mighty fir tree, stoodthe herder's tent, a white pyramid among the green foliage. If there wasanother human being nearer than the little railroad town forty-fivemiles away, the boy knew it not. He watched the man ride slowly down thetrail until he disappeared behind a mass of trees. The dog at his sidewhined as the man was lost to view and poked his cold muzzle into theboy's hand.

  "Ah, _perrito mio_," and he hugged the fawning animal close to his body,"the _patron_ has gone and left us here all alone to care for the sheep.Think of it, I, Pablo, to be trusted with so much. Shall we not care forthem as for our own? Didst hear him say we were not to leave this campwhile he was away? Ten black ones for markers, three bells and fivegreat _chivos_. Aha, we shall count them each a hundred times a day, andsly indeed will be the ewe that shall escape from us. Is it not so, mybrave Pancho?" And for answer the dog barked and romped about the lad asif to show he also appreciated the honor and responsibility thrust uponthe two.

  Down the trail the sheepman, Hawk, jogged along toward the town whereMac, the recreant herder, was doubtless wasting his substance in riotousliving. "If ever I git holt of that there rascal, I'll wear out theground with him," he soliloquized. "To go off and leave me with a bandof ewes on my hands at such a time and not come back as he promised.Serves me right for letting him go, for I might 'a' known he'd not comeback in time. That there Pablo's a good kid all right, but it's a prettybig risk to turn over to a twelve-year-old boy that many ewes and lambs.Lucky for me he happened to stay in camp after the lambing was over; hisfather's about the best sheepherder on the whole range, and them Mexicankids would rather herd a bunch of sheep than ride on a merry-go-round.Well," and he slapped his horse with the end of his rope, "he's got agood dog, the best in the mountains, an' if he keeps track of his bellsan' markers 'tain't likely he'll lose any sheep. However, there ain't nouse worrying over it, for I couldn't stay there myself any longer, an'the sooner I gits to town an' hustles that there red headed Mac out tocamp, the better."

  "_Hawk met a forest ranger leading a pack mule_"]

  Down at the foot of the mountain he met a forest ranger leading a packmule.

  "What's doing?" asked Hawk of the government man.

  "Big fire over on 'tother side of the mountain," answered the ranger."Old man phoned me to get over there as soon as ever I could and lend ahand. Mighty dry season now, and if fire ever gets started it'll take alot more men to stop it than we got in this forest. I been riding nownight and day for the last thirty days patroling my district, to lookoutfor fires, and I hate to have to go clear over on the other side andleave it all uncovered."

  "How big a district you got, anyhow?" queried the sheepman.

  "Little over six townships and a half; that's over a hundred and fiftythousand acres, and it's all a-standing on edge too"--he waved hisgloved hand toward the range about them--"so there's twice as much, ifyou count the mountain sides. The Super, he asked for six more rangerslast fall when he sent in his annual report, but the high collars backthere in Washington said Congress was cutting down expenses and so we'dhave to spread ourselves out and cover the ground, and do the best wecould. That's why the boss rustled the boys out in such a hurry, for wecan't afford to take any chances on a fire getting a start. If it everdoes, it's good-bye trees, for once a fire gets under good headway inthese mountains, with conditions just right, all the fire fighters inhell couldn't stop it. So long, old man, I've got to be a-drifting."

  As the ranger moved off up the canyon, the sheepman turned and glanced upat the sky toward the spot where he had left Pablo and his charges.There were no signs of smoke in the clear blue above, so he touched thehorse with his spurs and resumed his journey, content to leave the firefighting to the ranger force until he was called on for aid. Anyhow, itwas clear over on the other side of the mountain and he wasn'tinterested there, and it would be time enough to worry when it got overon to his side. Meanwhile, there was that miserable Mac drunk in townand another band of lambs and ewes somewhere on the range, that he oughtto look in on before long.

  Back on the mountain meadow Pablo and his ewes and lambs got onfamously. The boy pushed the band out on to the mountainside, away fromcamp, telling Pancho to care for them while he went to find the two packburros and drive them back to camp. All day long the boy watched theherd as a hen watches her chicks. Over and over again he counted the tenblack "markers," those black sheep that come in every flock and withoutwhich no herder would work. If all ten of them were there in the herd itwas safe to presume that none of the ewes had been lost, for, as theygrazed back and forth through the timber, "cuts" might happen to thebest of herders. Once he counted but nine. Yes, surely there were butnine. He called the dog to his side, pointed to a ridge beyond them andtold the animal to go over there and look for the missing ones.

  Away Pancho bounded, stopping often to look back at his master fororders. The boy waved his arm and the dog went on until he stood a blackspeck at the top of the ridge. With foot upraised and ears cocked, hewatched again for commands. Another wave of the arm and the dog dashedover the ridge and out of sight. Half an hour later an eager bark camefrom the ridge, and there, slowly toiling through the trees, came thelost sheep, followed by the faithful dog, keeping them moving towardthe herd and yet not hurrying them beyond the speed of the lambs. Intheir lead was the black marker. Once more his ten _negros_ were allthere.

  The next night from over the mountain-top rolled a great wave of blacksmoke. The sheep, "bedded down" near the camp, were uneasy and keptsniffing at the heavy air. At daylight the boy pushed them from the bedground and worked them up toward the mountain-top, where the treesstopped growing and there was little danger of fire reaching them.Leaving the dog to care for the sheep, the boy climbed up higher untilhe could see about him. On every side was a sea of smoke. Great blackbillows rolled up from below him and the wind blew a gale from thedirection of the other side of the mountain. The _patron_ would be backthat night, but until then Pablo must stay where he was, for had he notbeen told to do so? All day he watched the smoke boiling up about him.The
sheep were restless and bunched up in spite of his efforts to getthem to scatter out and graze as they should.

  In the afternoon he worked his way down the mountainside, below themeadow and, perched on a huge boulder, watched the fire licking its wayslowly through the forest. As far as he could see the red line stretchedlike a fiery snake, but unless the wind changed it would not reach hiscamp for some time yet.

  If only the _patron_ would come and relieve him of this responsibility!All those ewes with their fine lambs grazing there, and depending onhim, Pablo, for protection and care. What should he do? He must notleave the camp, and still, if he kept the sheep there and the firereally came to the meadow, they might all die.

  Late that evening the wind changed and blew up the canyon like a gale,carrying with it clouds of smoke and burning brands which started firesfar in advance of the main line. But the boy stayed with the sheep, wideawake and watchful, hardly taking time to eat his simple meals of_frijoles_, mutton and bread. Below him, the sky was alight with theflames. Now and then a thunderous crash told where some giant of theforest had given up the fight--three hundred and fifty years' workundone in an hour. Half a dozen coyotes and a wildcat skulked out of thetimber that fringed the meadow and buried themselves in the little clumpof willows that grew about the spring. By midnight he realized that tostay where he was meant death for himself and his woolly charges. Thesheep were restless, constantly moving about on the bed ground, thelambs running and bleating through the herd as if they, too, realizedthe danger. The dog whined and looked anxiously toward the coming light,which now made the night almost as bright as noonday.

  "What would'st thou do, Panchito?" said the boy. "Did not the _patron_tell us to remain here until he came, and yet, shall we stay and diewhen the fire comes?" Then the thought came to him that up higher on themountain the sheep would be safe if once there.

  At the first sign of coming day he set about his preparations forleaving. First, he tore from its pins the light tent, spread it out onthe ground, swept into it the small supply of food which the campcontained, and rolled the tent about it. Then, with a short-handledcamp shovel he dug a shallow hole in the soft mountain soil into whichhe placed, first, the sheepskins and blankets which formed his bed andthen the bundle of the tent, covering it all with the dirt, thussecuring it from the fire.

  Having thus protected his food supply, he sent the dog around the sheepto bunch them up and started them up the mountainside. The sheep,frightened by the smoke and approaching fire, moved rapidly, and insideof half an hour the boy had them all bedded down on a great bare granitefield in the middle of a little boulder-strewn valley where, ages ago,some slipping, sliding glacier had smoothed and polished the surface ofthe rocks until they were like some gigantic table top. The valley wasfar above timber and the sheep safe from fire.

  Leaving the dog to watch the sheep, he hastened back to the meadow,there to await the coming of the _patron_ as he had been bidden. Onceupon the prairie, where his father lived, he had seen the men go out tomeet an approaching fire and by means of back firing keep it away fromthe houses and fields.

  In the camp was a stick of pitch pine which some one had brought forstarting fires. Taking the ax, he quickly split off a handful ofsplinters, which he bound together with a handy piece of baling wire.Going to the lower end of the meadow toward the fire with his improvisedtorch, he started a line of small fires, hoping they would spread andthus be some slight protection to the meadow.

  The wind favored him, and in a short time he had a wide swath burnedclear along one side of the meadow and his fire was eating out into theforest and would keep the flames back some distance.

  As the main fire line came along he was smothered with the clouds ofsmoke and waves of heat which swept down as from a furnace. He stood itas long as he could, fighting back the fire at every point where theflames were eating out into the meadow. Burning brands ate holes in hiscotton shirt, and the soles of his "teguas," or rawhide moccasins, wereburned through and through. As the mass of fire reached his back-fireline he ran to the little spring in the middle of the meadow and threwhimself into it, rolling over and over in the mud and water about it.The coyotes and wildcat that had taken refuge there hardly noticed hispresence in the face of the coming danger.

  Half an hour or more of stifling smoke and burning heat and he dared toleave his place in the spring. About the meadow some of the trees wereburning clear to their tops, and great logs were blazing everywhere, butthe force of the fire was spent and had gone on past him and he was leftas on an island in midocean.

  It was far past noon. Perhaps the _patron_ would come today. He foundthe shovel and dug up the buried tent with its precious contents andmade a hasty meal of bread and meat. Then, taking a piece of the meatfor the faithful Pancho, he struck out into the blackened area about himto find the sheep which he had left to the dog's care that morning.

  He was very tired and his almost bare feet were badly cut and burned,causing him to stop and rest frequently, but he finally reached thegranite ledge, and there found the sheep, with the dog watching theirevery movement, and woe unto the ewe or venturesome lamb that attemptedto wander too far into the valley, for he was at its heels in a minuteto drive it back.

  That evening, about dark, two men rode into the upper end of the meadow.The face of each was black and grimy with smoke and sweat. Their eyeswere red and swollen and their horses so tired they stumbled as theymoved. As they came out of the blackened area about the meadow and wereable to see across it the man in advance stopped his horse.

  "Lord, I do hate to think of leaving that poor little devil up here allalone with them sheep," he said to his companion. "Naturally I hate tothink of losing the sheep, but to have him burnt up too is awful."

  Suddenly he straightened up in his saddle and rubbed his eyes. "Say,Bill," he called, "is that a bunch of sheep there, or are my eyesfooling me?" Before Bill could reply a dog barked and came racing towardthem.

  "Well, if it ain't Pancho as I'm a sinner," was the man's delighted cry.

  Then the tinkle of a sheep bell reached their ears. They spurred theirtired horses into a trot and soon reached the spot where once stood thecamp tent. In the dim light they saw a freshly dug hole with a tentlying beside it, upon which was piled a miscellaneous assortment of foodand camping utensils, mutely telling the story of how the camp outfithad been saved.

  Nearby on a pile of sheep skins and under an old blanket lay a boysleeping soundly. The eager barking of the dog and the heavy tread ofthe horses awoke him, and with a start he sprang to his feet. Hisclothing was a mass of mud, his face so black and tear-stained that itwas almost unrecognizable, but the sheepman sprang from his horse andgrabbed him in his arms with a strange choking in his throat he couldhardly conquer.

  "Why, Pablo boy, _muchacho mio_, how did you pull through this hell fireand save yourself and the sheep too?" he asked, patting the dirty cheeksand mud-filled hair.

  "The _patron_ told me to stay here till he returned," said the boy,"there are all the sheep, the ten markers, the three _campanas_, and thefive _chivos_, that the _patron_ left with me. All are there." Thechild's eyes glowed with the pride of accomplishment.

  "Bill," said the sheepman, "what's that little feller's name what weused to recite about in school, him that did the stunt about standing onthe burning deck?"

  "You mean Casabianca?"

  "That's him, that's the chap. Say, Pablo"--his voice choked and heswallowed hard before the words would come to his lips--"Pablo, you'reCasabianca all righty, and then some, for that little feller didn't savehis bacon by stayin' where he was tole to. You not only saved yours buttwelve hundred of the best ewes and lambs in the state besides. I'llpromise you that ole Santa Claus'll bring you somethin' mighty fine nextChristmas to pay you for this here job."