Friar Tuck
Page 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
A PROGRESSIVE HUNT
The Friar sez it's all rot about men bein' better for havin' sowedtheir wild oats when young. He sez 'at it's utter foolishness to sowany crop ya don't want to harvest; but I dunno. I don't mind havin' acolt try to turn himself inside out with me on its back; but I'm someprejudiced again' an old hoss which is likely to pitch when I've gotother business to attend to. When a young hoss is mean, why, ya canreason it out of him; but when an old hoss turns bad, you might justas well put the outlaw label on him an' turn him adrift.
We couldn't do a thing with Horace after he'd taken his shot at thefeller who potted one of Olaf's cows. Ol' Tank Williams was huge insize an' had a ponderous deep voice which rumbled around in him like abulldog croakin' in a barrel; an' he decided that it was his duty tobe firm with Horace, seein' the way 'at he had bluffed him when wewent on that trip for the nerves; so the follerin' mornin' he put ascowl on his face, grabbed Horace by the chest of his shirt, liftedhim so 'at nothin' but the tips of his toes touched, an' sez: "Lookhere, you little whippersnapper, we agreed to go where you said an'stay as long as you said; but we meant on a game-huntin' trip. Youhaven't any idee what you're up again' out here, an' you got to givein an' come back with us."
Tank's free eye rolled about in his head, runnin' wilder 'n I'd everseen it; but Horace wasn't as much phazed as if a fly had bit him. Hescowled down his eyebrows, an' piped out in his squeaky tenor: "Takeyour hand off me, Tank--and take it off now."
"I've a notion to raise it up an' squash ya," sez Tank.
"Yes," sez Horace, without blinkin' a winker, "you've got notions allright; but they lie so far to the interior of ya that they generallyweaken before they find their way out. Take your hand off me."
Well, Tank was beat. He gave Horace a shove, but Horace was light onhis feet, an' he never lost his balance. He just danced backward untilhe had his brakes set, an' then he fetched up in front o' the fire,put his fists on his hips, an' stared up at Tank haughty.
"Ignorance," sez he, "is the trouble with most people. The ignorantallus judge by appearances. If body-size was what really counted, why,we'd have an elephant for an emperor. Instead of which we use 'em topush logs around. Goliath did a lot o' talkin' about squashin' David,but as soon as David got around to it, he fixed Goliath all ready forthe coroner. Napoleon was of small size, an' fat, an' nervous, but hedidn't count it a fair day's work unless he had presented one of hisrelatives with a full-sized kingdom. Where are the buffalos--where arethey--the big clumsy brutes! They're shut up out o' harm's way, that'swhere they are; but where are the mosquitoes? Why the mosquitoes aretakin' life easy at all the fashionable summer resorts. If you feellike freightin' your big, fat carcass back to where it don't run anyrisk o' bein' bumped into, why go ahead; but I'm goin' to stick aroundhere an' see what happens."
Well, there we were: we didn't none of us have the courage to own up'at we were afraid of anything 'at Horace wasn't afraid of; so wedecided to stick with him, but that he had to take the blame. It wasTillte Dutch who said this, an' Horace looked at him an' grinned."Take the blame?" sez he. "Why you big chump, it's the small-sized menwho allus take the blame. The big boobs rush about, makin' a lot o'noise; but they only do what the small-sized men tell 'em to. I'lltake the blame all right, an' if you back me up, you'll be rightpleased to have a share in the kind o' blame the's goin' to be. ThisTy Jones outfit is nothin' but a set o' cowardly bullies who sneakaround in the dark doin' underhanded work; but I intend to let thedaylight in."
"I'll bet the daylight will be let in, somewhere," sez I; "but I'mjust fool enough to stick with ya."
Tank was still smartin' from the way it had been handed to him. "Say,"sez he, "p'raps you don't know it; but that David you was cacklin'about a while ago wasn't nothin' but a sheep-herder."
"That don't change no brands," sez Horace, who didn't have any moreuse for a sheep-herder 'n we did. "He was a small-sized man, an' hejust drove sheep a while to help his father out. Sheep-herdin' wasn'this regular trade. Bossin' men an' fightin' an' bein' a king was hisnatural line o' business. It allus seems to me 'at big, overgrown menought to be sheep-herders, so they could drive about in house-wagons,an' not wear down so many good hosses."
Ol' Tank slammed about, makin' a lot o' noise; but he had lost thisdeal, an' it was plain to see.
"I'm goin' to ride over to Olaf's, an' tell him about what happenedlast night, an' say 'at we'll keep an eye on his stuff if so be hewants to take a little trip to Billings," said Horace; and when hestarted I went along with him. At first Olaf was so white-hot abouthavin' another cow killed that he couldn't think; but finally helooked at Horace a long time, an' said: "You have very brave flame,an' you speak true. I shall go to Billings, an' trust everything withyou."
I was flabbergasted clear out o' line at this; but Olaf packed somestuff on one hoss, flung his saddle on another, an' set off at once.Now, I knew Olaf to be slow an' stubborn, an' I couldn't see throughthis.
After Olaf had rode out o' sight to the north, Horace sez: "Has heallus been crazy?"
"He's not crazy," sez I.
"Then what did he mean by sayin' I had a very brave flame an' that Ispoke true?" sez Horace. "Course he's crazy. Didn't you notice hiseyes."
"Yes," I sez, "I've noticed his eyes a lot; but I don't think he'scrazy--except in thinkin' 'at Kit Murray'll marry him. Why, she wouldas soon think o' marryin' a he-bear as Olaf."
"Well, I think they have drove him crazy," sez Horace; "but I'm goin'to bestir myself in his favor."
He took himself as serious as if he had been Napoleon an' David both;an' I could smell trouble plain. We decided to move our camp down toOlaf's, an' wrangle his herd into the Spread every night. Pearl CrickSpread was as fine a little valley as a body ever saw; filled withcottonwoods an' snugglin' down out o' the wind behind high benches.The crick came in through a gorge, an' went out through a gorge; an'it was plain to me that the Spread was worth fightin' for.
When we got back to the camp we found that a couple o' Cross brandboys had happened along, by accident, of course, an' were tryin' toswap news o' the weather for news o' the neighbors. Our crowd hadn'tloosened up none; and as soon as we came back the Cross-branders left.
Horace looked pleased. "I bet I got one of 'em last night," sez he,shakin' his head.
Well, we all grinned, we couldn't help it. "I bet you get anotherchance at 'em, too," sez Slim. Our outfit had been peaceable for solong that the prospect of trouble actually made us feel nervous enoughto show it.
We moved down to Olaf's, and each night we fetched in his little buncho' cows, an' allus kept up some hosses in the corral. TheCross-branders used to wander by our place purty frequent, but allusin the matter o' business.
One day, after we'd been livin' at Olaf's about a week, Badger-faceFlannigan, an' a pair of as mean-lookin' Greasers as ever I saw, cameridin' along. Me an' Horace had been up in the hills after some freshmeat, an' we see them before they saw us. They were ridin' slow an'snoopin' about to see what they could pick up, an' when they saw usthey looked a bit shifty for a moment.
Then Badger wrinkled up his face in what was meant for a friendlygrin, an' sez: "Hello, fellers. Have you-un's bought Olaf out?"
"Nope," sez I. "We're just out here for a little huntin'; an' Olaf gotus to look after his stuff for a few days while he went visitin'."
"Wasn't the' any huntin' closer to home?" sez Badger-face, a littlesarcastic.
"Not the kind o' huntin' we prefer," sez Horace, sort o' dreamy like.
Badger-face drilled a look into Horace, who had put on his mostno-account expression. "What's your favorite game," sez he, "snow-shoerabbits?"
"Oh, no," drawled Horace as if he felt sleepy, "silver-tips an' humansis our favorite game; but o' course the spring is the best time--forsilver-tips."
"Where might you be from?" asked Badger-face.
"I might be from Arizona or Texas," sez Horace; "but I ain't. I'm aregular dude. Can't you tell by my whiskers?"
Badger-face was so puzzled when Horace gave a little rat-laugh that Ihad to laugh too; and ya could see the blood come into Badger'scheeks, but still, he couldn't savvy this sort o' game, so he couldn'tquite figure out how to start anything.
Horace had practiced what he called a muscle-lift, which he said heused to see the other kids do on parallel bars; and now he slipped tothe ground an' tightened his cinch an' cussed about the way it hadcome loose, as natural as life. Then he put one hand on the horn an'the other on the cantle an' drew himself up slow. He kept on pushin'himself after his breast had come above the saddle until he rested atarm's length. Then he flipped his right leg over, an' took his seat asthough it was nothin' at all. Any one could see it was a genuwinestunt, though it was of no earthly use to a ridin' man.
Now, just because the' was no sense to this antic, it made more of animpression on Badger-face than the fanciest sort o' shootin' or ropin'would 'a' done; an' he puzzled over what sort of a speciment Horacemight be, till it showed in his face.
"Come on down an' have supper with us," sez Horace. "You can see foryourself what the prospect for fresh meat is; so you can be sure of awelcome."
"No, we can't very well come this evenin'," sez Badger-face.
"Why not?" sez Horace. "You look to me like a man who was gettin'bilious for the want of a little sociability. Come on down an' we'llswap stories, an' have a few drinks, an' I'll sing ya the best songyou ever hearkened to."
"No, we got to be goin'," sez Badger-face; an' he an' the Greasersrode off while Horace chuckled under his breath as merry as a magpie.
"That's what you call a bad man, is it?" sez he. "I tell you thatfeller's a rank coward."
"Would you have the nerve to pick up a horn-toad?" sez I.
"No," sez he; "cause they're poison."
"They ain't no more poison 'n a frog is," I sez; "but most peoplethinks they are, an' that is why strangers are afraid of 'em. Now,Badger-face ain't no coward. He's a shootin' man; but he can't makeyou out, an' this is what makes him shy of ya."
"Well," sez Horace, "I'd rather be a free horn-toad than a mule inharness. Come on, let's go eat."
The next afternoon Horace went along to help bring in the bunch o'cattle; an' some one up on the hill took a shot at him. He couldn'tride up the hill, so he hopped off the pony, an' started up on foot.Mexican Slim was closest to him, an' he started after; but the fellergot away without leavin' any trace. Horace was wonderful pleased aboutit, an' strutted more than common.
"There now," sez he after supper; "do you mean to tell me 'at thatfeller wasn't a coward? Why the' ain't enough sand in their wholeoutfit to blind a flea!"
We just set an' smoked in silence. When a feller as little as him oncebegins to crow, the's nothin' to do but wait till his spurs getclipped.