CHAPTER IX
THE CARAVAN
At last came the day, and the dawn of it showed a cloudless sky, asleeping town and a little caravan winding, with rattle of chains andsqueak of harness, past the silent, straggling houses, bound westwardfor the "prairie ocean." Despite the mud and the slowness of the goinghigh spirits ruled the little train. Youth was about to do and dare,eager for the gamble with fate; and age looked forward to the lure ofthe well-known trail even as it looked backward in memory for faces andexperiences of the years gone by. The occasion was auspicious, for thestart was prompt to the minute and earlier than any they would makelater. They were on the luxuriant and better wooded eastern rim of thegreat plains, and would be on it for several days.
Joe Cooper, driving the small wagon with Patience seated at his side,led the way, eager and exultant. Following him closely came his twogreat Pittsburg wagons with their still spotless new sheets, each loadedwith nearly three tons of selected merchandise, their immense wheelsgrumbling a little as they slid a fraction of an inch along theirwell-greased axles, their broad, new tires squashing out twin canyons inthe mud. Next came two emigrant wagons, their proprietors fearing thatthey would not reach the Oregon-bound train at its rendezvous in time toleave with it. Under their stained and patched canvases two women sleptas though in a steady bed, their children at their sides. Weeks of thistraveling had given to them the boon of being able to fall asleep almostat will. Then came Enoch Birdsall and Alonzo Webb, sober and gay,abusing each other humorously, each in his own wagon, handling theirstrung-out teams with nonchalant ease. Close to the rear of the lastwagon came the eight mules of Tom Boyd and Hank Marshall, four to astring, followed by their horse-mounted owners; and behind them were JimOgden and Zeb Houghton, each driving two mules before them.
The road was in execrable condition, its deep ruts masked by a mud asmiry as it appeared to be bottomless, and several times the great wagonswere mired so hard and fast that it took the great ox teams of Alonzoand Enoch, hooked on in addition to the original mule teams, to pullthem out; and the emigrant wagons, drawn by over-worked oxen, gavenearly as much trouble. The story of their progress to Council Grovewould be tiring, since it would be but little more than a recital of thesame things over and over again--the problems presented by the roads.
At Round Grove they said good-bye to the emigrants, who joined the rearguard of their own caravan at this point. Along the so-called Narrows,the little ridge forming the watershed between the Kansas and Osagerivers, for a stretch extending quite some distance westward from RoundGrove, the roads were hardly more than a series of mudholes filmed overand masked by apparently firm ground. In some of these treacherous trapsthe wagons often sank to the hubs, and on two occasions the bottom ofthe wagon-box rested on the mud. It was hopeless to try to pull themout with the animals so deep in mud, and only by finding more firmground along the side of the trail, the use of long chains and the aidof every draft animal in the train were the huge wagons dragged out. Themen themselves waded into the traps, buried at times almost to thewaist, and put their shoulders to wheels and wagon-boxes and pushed andheaved and floundered; and they kept their spirits high despite thepenetrating cold of the mire. Under these conditions stops were frequentto rest both teams and men, the "noonings" were prolonged, camp madeearlier in the evening than was usual and left later in the morning. Thetally of miles was disheartening, and to make matters worse a heavydownpour of chilling rain fell half a day before they reached 110 MileCreek which, besides making everyone miserable and spoiling the cooking,swelled the stream so much that it was crossed only with the greatestdifficulty.
One of the few things they were grateful for was the fact that they didnot have to keep regular guard watches at night, for while the Kaws andOsages might steal an animal or two in hope of receiving a littlewhiskey, powder, or tobacco for its return, there was no danger ofwholesale stampeding, and a man or two was sufficient to watch the camp.
One pleasant incident occurred when they pulled in sight of Switzler'sCreek, where they found another section of the caravan in camp. Theaugmented train now numbered about twenty-six wagons and formed a rearguard worthy of the name. The weather had cleared again and the sunshone brightly all the way to Council Grove. To offset the pleasanteffect of joining the other train, it was at Switzler's Creek that ahard-pushed mule train overtook them. With it came the little Mexicanand half a dozen of his compatriots, and several of EphriamSchoolcraft's chosen bullies. At their appearance Hank Marshall found anew interest in life, and there was very little occurring in the newmule train that he missed. His habits now became a little similar tothose of the cat tribe, for he resorted to his old trick of dozing whileriding, catching naps at the noonings, before dark and after dawn. Withhim awake at night and Tom awake during the day, and with Jim Ogden'sand Zeb Houghton's nocturnal prowlings thrown in the balance, it lookedas though Hank's remark about "nobody ketchin' these beavers asleep"would be fully justified.
Council Grove was reached one noon, and they learned that they wouldhave plenty of time to do the many little things neglected on the way,for they would stay here two days. This was welcome news, as it gavethem an opportunity to let the draft animals rest and feed well inpreparation for the long prairie haul ahead.
Council Grove of the caravan days is worthy of notice. It was themeeting place as well as the council place for those who were to crossthe prairies together. To it ran the feeding roads, gradually growing asstrands feed a rope, the loose and frayed ends starting from theMissouri River points and converging as they neared the grove. Namedfrom a council and a treaty which took place there between a governmentcommission sent out to survey a wagon road to the Arkansas River, and atribe of Osages, in which safety for the traders was obtained from thesesavages, it was doubly well named because of the yearly councils whichwere held between the traders themselves to perfect the organization ofthe caravan.
The grove itself, of oak, ash, hickory, elm, and many other kinds oftrees, was about half a mile wide and extended along the sides of thelittle valley of Council Grove Creek, a large tributary of the NeoshoRiver. With its dense timber, its rich bottom pastures, and fine, highprairies it made an ideal spot for a rendezvous; and it was about thelast of the really fine and productive country seen from Independence.Here were hard woods in plenty, the last to be found on the long trip,from which to obtain replacements for broken axles and other wagonparts. This also was the farthest point reached by the trains withoutreal organization, for from here on every important movement wasofficially ordered.
Scattered about the beautiful, green little valley were wagons great andsmall, and piles of mule packs, each camp somewhat by itself. There wasmuch calling and getting acquainted, fun and frolic, much hewing oftrees, mending of gear, and, in general, busy preparation for thejourney over the land of the short buffalo grass. Tenderfeet wastedtheir time and ammunition at target practice or in hunting for smallgame, and loafed to their hearts' content; but the experienced travelerput off his loafing and play until he knew that he had done everythingthere was to be done. There were horse races and mule races and evenox-team races; tugs of war, running, jumping, and, in fact, everythinganyone could think of to help pass the time.
After a good night's sleep the Cooper party found there was little to doexcept to get timber for "spares," and notwithstanding that a spare axlewas slung from under each of the huge freighters, Uncle Joe insistedthat each wagon carry another, and he personally superintended thecutting. They had been obtained and slung in place beside the otherswhen a bugle was heard and criers passed among the little camps callingeveryone for roll call. Nearly two hundred persons answered, all but oneof them being men, and then the electioneering began for the choice ofcaptain. To be a success a caravan must have one head, and the moreexperienced he was the better it would be for the caravan.
Now came the real excitement of the day, for party spirit was strong andinsistent, and the electioneering was carried on with such gusto thatseveral fights grew
out of it. There were four parties at first, amongwhich was Mike Wardell's, comprising the rougher, more lawless frontierelement. He was a close friend of Ephriam Schoolcraft and he had hisadmirers outside of his own class, for a group of tenderfeet which wasimpressed by his swaggering, devil-may-care manners backed him in abody; and another group which was solidly behind him was composed of thepoorer Mexican traders. The second of the larger parties with acandidate in the field, who had been nominated by a series of caucuses,was made up of the more experienced and more responsible traders,veterans of the trail who put safety and order above all otherconsiderations. This party nominated Zachary Woodson, who had morewagons in the caravan than any other one man, therefore having more atstake, and who had not missed his round trip over the route for a dozenyears. His nomination split the Mexicans, for half of them had wagonsand valuable freights, and were in favor of the best leadership.
At first Woodson flatly refused to run, sneeringly reminding his friendsof the lack of cooperation he could expect from the very men who neededlaw and order and leadership most. He knew by bitter experience that thecaptain of a Santa Fe caravan had no real authority and that his orderswere looked upon as mere requests, to be obeyed or not, as the moodsuited. He was obdurate in his refusal until a split occurred in theother strong party and resulted in a disgraceful fight among itsmembers, which was kept from having disastrous results only by thedetermined interposition of the more resolute members of his own party.This caused the two smaller factions to abandon their own candidates andthrow themselves against Wardell, and resulted in the overwhelmingelection of the man best suited for the position.
His first act after grudgingly accepting the thankless leadership was toask for a list of the men, wagons, and pack animals, and he soengineered the division of them that each section had as its lieutenanta man whom he could trust and who did not lack in physical courage somuch needed to get some kind of order and to keep it. The great trainwas divided into four divisions, at the present to join so as to marchin two columns; but later to spread out and travel in divisional orderof four straight columns abreast, far enough apart so that the width ofthe whole front roughly would equal the length of a column.
Next came the arrangement of the watches, the most cordially hated ofall caravan duties. In this train of nearly ninety wagons there werenearly one hundred and eighty men physically able to stand a guard, andno one who was able to stand his trick was let off. The captainpreferred the regular and generally accepted system of two watches, eachof four squads, which put one squad on duty for three hours eachalternate night; but there were so many men for this disagreeable taskthat he allowed himself to be over-ruled and consented to a three watchsystem, six squads to the watch, which put one watch of nine men and acorporal on duty for two hours every third night. Almost any concessionwas worth making if it would arouse a little interest and a sense ofduty in this very important matter of guarding the camp. The corporal ofeach squad arranged to shift up one tour each time their squad went on,which would give no one squad the same hours for its successive tours ofduty. Nothing could have been fairer than this, but there were objectorsin plenty. Each one of the kickers had his own, perfect plan. Somewanted smaller squads with the same number of watches so that each tourof duty would be less; some wanted two watches and smaller squads, tothe same end, both of which would have caused endless changing of theguard, endless awakenings all night long, with practically continuousnoise and confusion. Captain Woodson, having abandoned the regular andtried system so as to let the men feel a sense of cooperation, flatlyrefused to allow any further changes, and in consequence earned thesmoldering grudges of no small number, which would persist until the endof the trail and provide an undercurrent of dissatisfaction quick toseize on any pretext to make trouble.
For the division officers he chose the four men he had in mind, afterover-ruling a demand for a vote on them. As long as he was responsiblefor the safety of the caravan he declared that it was his right toappoint lieutenants whom he knew and could trust. The bickering hadfresh fuel and continued strong all day, and it would last out thejourney.
Arranging the divisions so far as possible to put friends together, withthe exception of some of the tenderfoot parties, they were numbered,from left to right, as they would travel, and he was careful to put themore experienced plainsmen on the two outside ranks and, where possible,the better drivers in the two inner columns. These latter had a littlemore complex course to follow in case of sudden need to corral thecaravan. For corralling while traveling in two columns, he instructedthe drivers to follow the wagon ahead and to stop when his own wagontongue came even with the rim of the rear wheel of the wagon he wasfollowing. In case of corralling in face of danger, they were to swingtheir teams to the inside of the leading wagon, so as to have all theanimals on the inside of the corral; in ordinary camping they were toswing their teams in the other direction, so the animals would be readyto graze outside of the corralled wagons. They were to pay no attentionto direction or to sudden inspirations, but were blindly to follow thewagon in front of them and to close up the gaps. The leading driver ofeach column would set the curving track which would bring the wagonsinto a great ellipse or a circle while moving in the two columnformation.
The first and fourth columns were commanded by Jim Ogden and Tom Boyd,while the two inner columns were under a trader named Haviland and asullen, mean-tempered trader of Independence and a warm friend ofSchoolcraft. His name was Franklin, and while his personal attributeswere unpleasant and he was a leader of the Schoolcraft element, he wasa first class caravan man and had proved his coolness andresourcefulness in many a tight place. His appointment also served in ameasure to placate the rebellious element, which nursed the thought thatit could do about as it pleased in its own column. Whether they wereright or wrong in this remained to be seen. While the two columnformation was in use the first and second divisions made up one of them;the third and fourth, the other. To Tom's delight he found that theCooper wagons had been assigned to his own division; but as an offset tothis two wagons belonging to gallivanting tenderfeet had been placeddirectly behind them. It was not pleasant to think of these dandifiedcity sports being so close to Patience Cooper all the way to Santa Fe.Like many men in love, he was prone to discount the intelligence andaffections of the loved one and to let his fears threaten his commonsense.
The first great watch went on duty at seven o'clock that night, more forthe purpose of breaking the men in to their work than for any need ofdefense, for no Indian troubles, despite the rumors afloat inIndependence, were to be looked for so far east. There was a great dealof joking and needless challenging that night and very little attempt tofollow instructions. An Indian likes nothing better than a noisy,standing sentry; but this savage preference hardly would be shown in thevicinity of Council Grove. Woodson knew that discipline could not beobtained and that every man would do as he pleased until the encampmentreceived a good scare, but his own sense of responsibility impelled himto make an effort to get it.
The next day was passed in resting, in placing the wagons in their orderof march, and in drilling the drivers in caravan tactics; and that nightthe guard was as noisy as it had been the night before. The squad whichwent on duty at one o'clock contained two tenderfeet and between themthey succeeded in shattering the monotony.
A quarter of an hour after the guard had been changed tenderfoot NumberOne thought he heard a sound and saw a movement. He promptly challengedand fired in the same instant. His weapon was a double-barreled fowlingpiece charged with buckshot, and there was no doubt about the deadlyefficiency of such a combination when the corporal found the carcass ofa mule with a hole in it nearly as big as a hat. The camp was throwninto an uproar, guns flashed from the wagons to the imminent peril ofthe rest of the sentries, and only the timely and rough interference ofa cool-headed trapper kept the two four-pounders from being fired. Theywere loaded with musket balls and pebbles and trained on three wagonsnot fifty yards from them. Orders, counter orde
rs, suggestions, shoutsfor balls, powder, flints, caps, patches, ramrods, and for abouteverything human minds could think of kept the encampment in apandemonium until sense was driven into the panicky men and the campallowed to resume its silence.
Tenderfoot Number Two heard and saw an Indian approaching him and firedhis pistol at the savage. This took place near the end of the same guardtour. Only his fright and the poor light which made his wobbling aim allthe more uncertain saved the life of his best friend who, restless andlonely, was going out to share the remainder of the watch with him.Again pandemonium reigned and weapons exploded, but this time thecattle stampeded in the darkness, doing the best they could with theirhandicap of hobbles.
At dawn the caravan was astir, the blast from the bugle not needed thistime, for almost every man had animals to hunt for and drive in, and asa result of this breakfasts were late and the whole day's operationswere thrown out of step. Finally after all the stampeded animals hadbeen rounded up and the morning meal was out of the way, and things doneat the last minute which should have been done the day before,preparations were started to get under way. Mules and horses broke looseand had to be chased and brought back; animals balked and kicked andhelped to turn the camp into a scene of noisy confusion. Several partiesfound that they had neglected to cut spare axles and forthwith salliedoff to get them. Others frantically looked for articles they hadmisplaced or loaned, one wagon being entirely unpacked to find a coffeepot and a frying pan which someone else later discovered at the edge ofthe creek where they had been dropped after they had been washed, theirowner having left them to get a shot at a squirrel he thought he saw.The forehanded and wiser members of the caravan took advantage of thedelay and turmoil to cut an extra supply of firewood against a futureneed, add to their store of picket stakes and also to fill their watercasks to keep them swelled tight beyond question, against the time whenthe much dreaded dry stretch should be reached.
At last from the captain's camp the well-known summons of "Catch up!"was heard, and passed on from group to group along the creek. Those whohad not yet hitched up their teams, almost at every case old hands atthe game who were wise enough to let their animals graze until the lastminute, now exultantly drove in their teams and filled the little valleywith the rattle of chains, the clicking of yokes, the braying ofindignant mules, and their own vociferations. Soon a teamster yelled"All's set!" and answering shouts rolled up and down the divisions. Atthe shouted command of "Stretch out!" whips cracked, harness creaked,chains rattled and wagons squeaked as the shouting drivers straightenedout their teams. "Fall in!" came next, and the teams were urged into theagreed-upon order, the noses of the leaders of one team close to thetailboard of the wagon ahead. The second and third divisions, falling inbehind the first and fourth, made two strings rolling up the longwestern slope of the valley toward the high prairie at its crest.
Songs, jokes, exultant shouts ran along the trains as the valley wasleft behind, for now the caravan truly was embarked on the journey, andevery mile covered put civilization that much farther in the rear.Straight ahead lay the trail, beaten into a plain, broad track leadingtoward the sunset, a mark which could not be mistaken and which renderedthe many compasses valueless so far as the trail itself was concerned.
The first day's travel was a comparatively short one, and during thedrive the officers rode back along the lines and again explained theformation which would be used at the next stopping place. This point wasso near that the caravan kept on past the noon hour and did not stopuntil it reached Diamond Spring, a large, crystal spring emptying into asmall brook close to a very good camping ground. The former camp nosooner had been left than the tenderfeet began to show theirpredilection to do as they pleased and to ride madly over the prairie insearch of game which was not there, finally gravitating to a common bodya mile or more ahead of the wagons, a place to which they stuck with adetermination worthy of better things.
At Diamond Spring came the first clash against authority, for thecaptain had told each lieutenant to get his division across all streamsbefore stopping. The word had been passed along the twin lines andseemed to have been tacitly accepted, yet when the wagons reached thebrook many of the last two divisions, thinking the farther bank toocrowded and ignoring the formation of the night encampment, pulled upand stopped on the near side. After some argument most of them crossedover and took up their proper places in the corral, but there were somewho expressed themselves as being entirely satisfied to remain wherethey were, since there was no danger from Indians at this point. Theanimals were turned loose to graze, restrained only by hobbles untilnightfall, the oxen in most cases yoked together to save trouble withthe stubborn beasts until they should become trained and more docile.They were the most senseless of the draft animals, often stampeding forno apparent cause; the sudden rattle of a chain or a yoke often beingall that was needed to turn them into a fleshy avalanche; and while theIndians did not want oxen, they seemed to be aware of the excitablenatures of the beasts and made use of their knowledge to start stampedesamong the other animals with them, much the same as fulminate of mercuryis used to detonate a charge of a more stable explosive.
The first two watches of the night were pleasant, but when Tom Boyd'ssquad went on duty an hour before midnight there was a change in theweather, and before half an hour had passed the rain fell in sheets andsent some of the guards to seek shelter in the wagons. Two of them weretenderfeet, one of Schoolcraft's friends and a trader. Tom was theso-called corporal of this watch and he was standing his trick asvigilantly as if they were in the heart of the Kiowa or Comanchecountry. He carefully had instructed his men and had posted them in thebest places, and he knew where each of them should be found. After halfan hour of the downpour he made the rounds, called the roll and thenslipped back into the encampment in search of the missing men. Notknowing them well enough at this time he did not know the wagons towhich they belonged, and he had to wait until later to hunt them out.
Dawn found a wet and dispirited camp as the last guard returned to thewagons an hour before they should have left their posts. Not a firewould burn properly and not a breakfast was thoroughly cooked. Everyoneseemed to have a chip on his shoulder, and the animals were mean andrebellious when driven in for the hobbles to be removed and picket ropessubstituted to hold them. Breakfast at last over, the caravan was aboutto start when Tom went along his own division and called four mentogether.
"Last night you fellers quit yer posts an' slunk back ter yer wagons,"he said, ominously. "Two of ye air tenderfeet, an' green ter this life;one is a trader an' th' other is an old hand on th' trail. You all oughtter know better. I'm lettin' ye off easy _this_ time, but th' next manthat breaks guard is goin' ter git a cussed fine lickin'. If it'snecessary I'll make an invalid out o' any man in my squad that sneaksoff his post. Git back ter yer wagons, an' don't fergit what I've said."
The tenderfeet were pugnacious, but doubtful of their ground; the traderwas abashed by the keen knowledge of his guilt and the enormity of hisoffense. He was a just man and had no retort to make. The teamster, abully and a rough, with a reputation to maintain, scowled around theclosely packed circle, looking for sympathy, and found plenty of itbecause the crowd was anxious to see the corporal, as personifyingauthority, soundly thrashed. They felt that no one had any right toexpect a man to stand guard in such a rain out in the cheerless dark fortwo hours, especially when it was admitted that there was no danger tobe feared. Finding encouragement to justify his attitude, and eager towipe out the sting of the lecture, the bully grinned nastily and took astep forward.
"Reg'lar pit-cock, ain't ye?" he sneered. "High an' mighty with yermouth, ain't ye? Goin' ter boss things right up ter th' hilt, _you_ air!Wall, ye--I'm wettin' yer primin', hyar an'----"
Tom stopped the words with a left on the mouth, and while the fightlasted it was fast and furious; but clumsy brute strength, misdirectedby a blind rage, could not cope with a greater strength, trained, agile,and cool; neither could a liquor soaked carcass for l
ong take the heavypunishment that Tom methodically was giving it and come back for more.As the bullwhacker went down in the mud for the fifth time, there was afinality about the fall that caused his conqueror to wheel abruptlyfrom him and face the ring of eager and disappointed faces.
"I warn't too busy ter hear some o' th' remarks," he snarled. "Now's th'time ter back 'em up! If ye don't it makes a double liar out o' ye! Comeon--step out, an' git it over quick!" He glanced at the two pugnacioustenderfeet. "You two make about one man, th' way we rate 'em out hyar;come on, both o' ye!"
While they hesitated, Captain Woodson pushed through the crowd into thering, closely followed by Tom's grim and silent friends, and a slenderMexican, the latter obviously solicitous about Tom's welfare. In a fewmoments the excitement died down and the crowd dispersed to its variouswagons and pack animals. As Tom went toward his mules he saw Franklin,the tough officer of the third division, facing a small group of his ownfriends, and suddenly placing his hand against the face of one of them,pushed the man off his balance.
"I'll cut yer spurs," Franklin declared. "Fust man sneaks off guard in_my_ gang will wish ter G-d he didn't!" He turned away and met Tom faceto face. "We'll larn 'em, Boyd," he growled. "I'm aimin' ter bust th'back o' th' first kiyote of _my_ gang that leaves his post unwatched. Ifone o' them gits laid up fer th' rest o' th' trip th' others'll standter it, rain or no rain. Ye should 'a' kicked in his ribs while ye had'im down!"
After a confused and dilatory start the two trains strung out over theprairie and went on again; but the rebellious wagon-owners on the eastside of the creek were not with the caravan. They were learning theirlesson.
The heavy rain had swollen the waters of the stream, stirred up its softbed and turned its banks into treacherous inclines slippery with mud.When the mean-spirited teams had been hooked to the wagons and sullenlyobeyed the commands to move, they balked in mid-stream and would notcross it in their "cold collars;" and there they remained, halfway over.In vain the drivers shouted and swore and whipped; in vain they pleadedand in vain they called for help. The main part of the caravan, for onceunited in spirit, perhaps because it was a mean one, went on withoutthem, knowing that the recalcitrant rear guard was in no danger; thesullen spirit of meanness in every heart rejoicing in the lesson beinglearned by their stubborn fellow travelers. The captain would have heldup the whole train to give necessary assistance to any unfortunatewagoner; but there was no necessary assistance required here, for theycould extricate themselves if they went about it right; and there was amuch-needed lesson to be assimilated. Their predicament secretly pleasedevery member of the main body, which was somewhat humorous, when it isconsidered that the great majority of the men in the main body had noscruples against disobeying any order that did not suit their mood.
Finally, enraged by being left behind, the stubborn wagoners rememberedone of the reasons advanced by the captain the day before when he hadurged them to cross over and complete the corral. He had spoken of thedifficulty of getting the animals to attempt a hard pull in "coldcollars," when they would do the work without pausing while they were"warmed up." So after considerable eloquence and persistent urging hadavailed them naught, the disgruntled wagoners jumped into the coldwater, waded to the head of the teams and, turning them around, gotthem back onto the bank they had left after vainly trying to lead themacross. Once out of the creek, the teams were driven over a circle amile in circumference to get their "collars warm." Approaching the creekat a good pace, the teams crossed it without pausing and slipped andfloundered up the muddy bank at the imminent risk of overturning thewagons. Reaching the top, they started after the plodding caravan and indue time overtook it and found their allotted places in the lines, tosome little sarcastic laughter. Never after that did those wagonersrefuse to cross any stream at camp time, while their teams were warmedup and willing to pull; but instead of giving the captain any credit forhis urging and his arguments, wasted the day before, they blamed him forgoing on without them, and nursed a grudge against him and his officersthat showed itself at times until the end of the long journey. Theywould not let themselves believe that he would have refused really todesert them.
The caravan made only fifteen miles and camped on a rise of the openprairie, where practice was obtained in forming a circular corral, withthe two cannons on the crest of the rise. The evolution was performedwith snap and precision, the sun having appeared in mid-forenoon andrestored the sullen spirits to natural buoyancy. The first squad of thewatch went on duty with military promptness, much to the surprise of themore experienced travelers. Here for the first time was adopted a systemof grazing which was a hobby with the captain, who believed that hobbledanimals wasted too much time in picking and choosing the best grass andin wandering around. He maintained that picketed animals would eat morein the same time, and so each wagoner was given a stretch of prairie aswide as the space occupied by his wagon and reaching out about onehundred yards, fan-wise, from the corral. Picket ropes of from twenty tothirty feet in length let each animal of his team graze over a circle ofthat radius, the center being a stake of hardwood two inches thick andabout two feet long. Some of the pickets were pointed with iron and hada band of the same metal shrunk around the upper and near the top tokeep them from splitting under repeated axe blows. Many of the othershad their points hardened by fire, and a pointed hickory or ash picketso treated will stand a lot of abuse. Before dark the pickets wereshifted to new places and the animals left to graze all night, forIndian visits still were a matter of the future.
After they had finished their supper and washed and put away the fewutensils, Tom as usual drifted off to spend an hour or two with UncleJoe and Patience. He had not been gone long before Hank got up to loosena pack to get a fresh plug of smoking tobacco, and caught sight ofPedro, the Mexican, sauntering toward him. The visitor grinnedcheerfully and sat down by the dying fire, acting as though he had everyreason to be accorded a cordial welcome.
"Hah!" exclaimed the self-invited guest in rare good humor. "Eet essgood to get out on thee gr-reat pr-rairie; but eet would haf been bettereef we had went weeth thee fir-rst tr-rain. Weeth that tr-rain was theetr-roops. We would be better pr-rotect."
Hank was undecided whether he should turn his back on the visitor andwalk away, or grab him by the collar and the slack of his trousers andthrow him from the fire, when habitual cunning made him grunt hisendorsement of the other's remarks. He never was above acquiring whatinformation he could get, no matter how trivial it might be.
"Yeah," he replied, passing the plug to his guest. "Fill yer pipe, ormake a cigarette," he invited. "Them danged settlements air all rightfer a change, but this hyar is a hull lot better; an' th' mountings airbetter'n this. As fer th' dragoons with th' fust train, it's plumbwelcome to 'em. Thar more trouble than thar worth; an' they allus willbe till they larn ter fight Injuns in th' Injun way. Th' idear o' usin'th' right hand fer a sword an' th' left fer a pistol! I'd ruther be witha passel o' mounting boys, fur's fightin' Injuns air consarned. Anyhow,jest when they git whar they're needed most, down on th' edge o' th'Kiowa an' Comanche country, th' danged dragoons has ter stop."
"But senor; they must not tr-read on Mexican soil," protested Pedro.
Hank grinned and choked down the retort he was about to make, noddinghis head instead. "Shore; that's th' trouble. Now, if that dangedGovernor o' yourn would meet th' train at Cimarron Crossin' an' go th'rest o' th' way with it, thar'd be some sense ter troop escorts. Tharain't a sojer along th' worst stretch o' th' whole trail. I'll bet ye wewon't see hide ner hair o' 'em this side o' Cold Spring, when th' dangerfrom raidin' Injuns is 'most over."
Pedro spread his hands helplessly. "That ees but too tr-rue, senor.Theese time we weel not see thee br-rave tr-roops of Mexico befor-re wer-reach thee Wagon Mound."
"Thar!" triumphantly exclaimed Hank. "What did I tell ye? They used tergit as fur as Cold Spring, anyhow; but now thar waitin' at th' WagonMound. Next thing we know they'll be waitin' at San Miguel fer ter seeus safe th' last
fifty miles through th' settlements!"
"Eet ees thee Apaches that ar-re to blame theese time," explained Pedrowith oily smoothness. "They ar-re ver' bad theese year along thee RioGr-rande del Norte. Ver' bad!"
"Yeah," grunted Hank, puffing reflectively on his pipe. "Mexico an'Texas both claim all that country east o' th' Grande, but th' Apachesshore own it, an' run it ter suit theirselves. Bad Injuns, they air."
"Thee customs they ar-re ver' str-rict theese year," commented Pedro,closely watching his companion. "They ar-re ver' har-rd on my poorcountrymen. They keep thee pr-rices so high on all theese goods."
"Tarnation bother," grunted Hank, beginning to get the reason for theMexican's interest in him. "Too bad we don't know somebody that kin gitus past 'em," he suggested, hopefully.
Pedro rubbed his hands complacently and helped to maintain a prolongedsilence; which at last was broken by small talk concerning the caravanand its various members. After half an hour of this aimless conversationhe arose to leave.
"Thee customs, as you haf so tr-ruly said, ar-re ver' gr-reat bother,Senor Hank. I know thees ver' much, for I haf a br-rother in thee customhouse. We ar-re ver' close, my br-rother an' me. I weel see you again,senor. Eet ees good that we get acquaint, weeth so ver' many _milla_ yetto tr-ravel together. _Buenos noches_, senor."
"Good night," replied Hank, carefully pulling the unburned wood out ofthe fire to serve for the cooking of the breakfast. He glanced after thedapper Mexican and grinned, re-roped the pack, and wandered off to joinhis trapper friends at their fire.
"Grease is slippery; an' so is greasers," he chuckled. "Wall, thar'splenty o' time to figger _jest_ what he's arter. Might be cheatin' th'customs, an' then ag'in it might not."
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