A TEXAS MATCHMAKER

by

ANDY ADAMS

Author of 'The Log of a Cowboy'

ILLUSTRATED BY E. BOYD SMITH

1904

[Illustration: ROLLING THE BULL OVER LIKE A HOOP (page 207)]

TO

FRANK H. EARNEST

MOUNTED INSPECTOR U. S. CUSTOMS SERVICE

LAREDO, TEXAS

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. LANCE LOVELACE

 II. SHEPHERD'S FERRY

 III. LAS PALOMAS

 IV. CHRISTMAS

 V. A PIGEON HUNT

 VI. SPRING OF '76

 VII. SAN JACINTO DAY

 VIII. A CAT HUNT ON THE FRIO

 IX. THE ROSE AND ITS THORN

 X. AFTERMATH

 XI. A TURKEY BAKE

 XII. SUMMER OF '77

 XIII. HIDE HUNTING

 XIV. A TWO YEARS' DROUTH

 XV. IN COMMEMORATION

 XVI. MATCHMAKING

 XVII. WINTER AT LAS PALOMAS

XVIII. AN INDIAN SCARE

 XIX. HORSE BRANDS

 XX. SHADOWS

 XXI. INTERLOCUTORY PROCEEDINGS

 XXII. SUNSET

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

ROLLING THE BULL OVER LIKE A HOOP

WE GOT THE AMBULANCE OFF BEFORE SUNRISE

FLASHED A MESSAGE BACK

GAVE THE WILDEST HORSES THEIR HEADS

HE SPED DOWN THE COURSE

UTTERING A SINGLE PIERCING SNORT

CHAPTER I

LANCE LOVELACE

When I first found employment with Lance Lovelace, a Texas cowman, Ihad not yet attained my majority, while he was over sixty. Though nota native of Texas, "Uncle Lance" was entitled to be classed among itspioneers, his parents having emigrated from Tennessee along with a partyof Stephen F. Austin's colonists in 1821. The colony with which hispeople reached the state landed at Quintana, at the mouth of the BrazosRiver, and shared the various hardships that befell all the early Texansettlers, moving inland later to a more healthy locality. Thus theeducation of young Lovelace was one of privation. Like other boys inpioneer families, he became in turn a hewer of wood or drawer ofwater, as the necessities of the household required, in reclaiming thewilderness. When Austin hoisted the new-born Lone Star flag, and calledupon the sturdy pioneers to defend it, the adventurous settlers camefrom every quarter of the territory, and among the first who respondedto the call to arms was young Lance Lovelace. After San Jacinto, whenthe fighting was over and the victory won, he laid down his arms, and returned to ranching with the same zeal and energy. The firstlegislature assembled voted to those who had borne arms in behalf of thenew republic, lands in payment for their services. With this land scripfor his pay, young Lovelace, in company with others, set out for theterritory lying south of the Nueces. They were a band of daring spirits. The country was primitive and fascinated them, and they remained. Somesettled on the Frio River, though the majority crossed the Nueces, manygoing as far south as the Rio Grande. The country was as large as themen were daring, and there was elbow room for all and to spare. LanceLovelace located a ranch a few miles south of the Nueces River, and, from the cooing of the doves in the encinal, named it Las Palomas. 

"When I first settled here in 1838, " said Uncle Lance to me one morning, as we rode out across the range, "my nearest neighbor lived forty milesup the river at Fort Ewell. Of course there were some Mexican familiesnearer, north on the Frio, but they don't count. Say, Tom, but she was apurty country then! Why, from those hills yonder, any morning you couldsee a thousand antelope in a band going into the river to drink. Andwild turkeys? Well, the first few years we lived here, whole flocksroosted every night in that farther point of the encinal. And in thewinter these prairies were just flooded with geese and brant. If youwanted venison, all you had to do was to ride through those mesquitethickets north of the river to jump a hundred deer in a morning's ride. Oh, I tell you she was a land of plenty. "

The pioneers of Texas belong to a day and generation which has almostgone. If strong arms and daring spirits were required to conquer thewilderness, Nature seemed generous in the supply; for nearly all werestalwart types of the inland viking. Lance Lovelace, when I first methim, would have passed for a man in middle life. Over six feet inheight, with a rugged constitution, he little felt his threescoreyears, having spent his entire lifetime in the outdoor occupation of aranchman. Living on the wild game of the country, sleeping on the groundby a camp-fire when his work required it, as much at home in the saddleas by his ranch fireside, he was a romantic type of the strenuouspioneer. 

He was a man of simple tastes, true as tested steel in his friendships, with a simple honest mind which followed truth and right as unerringlyas gravitation. In his domestic affairs, however, he was unfortunate. The year after locating at Las Palomas, he had returned to his formerhome on the Colorado River, where he had married Mary Bryan, also of thefamily of Austin's colonists. Hopeful and happy they returned to theirnew home on the Nueces, but before the first anniversary of theirwedding day arrived, she, with her first born, were laid in the samegrave. But grief does not kill, and the young husband bore his loss asbrave men do in living out their allotted day. But to the hour of hisdeath the memory of Mary Bryan mellowed him into a child, and, whenunoccupied, with every recurring thought of her or the mere mention ofher name, he would fall into deep reverie, lasting sometimes for hours. And although he contracted two marriages afterward, they were simplymarriages of convenience, to which, after their termination, hefrequently referred flippantly, sometimes with irreverence, for theywere unhappy alliances. 

On my arrival at Las Palomas, the only white woman on the ranch was"Miss Jean, " a spinster sister of its owner, and twenty years hisjunior. After his third bitter experience in the lottery of matrimony, evidently he gave up hope, and induced his sister to come out andpreside as the mistress of Las Palomas. She was not tall like herbrother, but rather plump for her forty years. She had large gray eyes, with long black eyelashes, and she had a trick of looking out from underthem which was both provoking and disconcerting, and no doubt many anadmirer had been deceived by those same roguish, laughing eyes. Everyman, Mexican and child on the ranch was the devoted courtier of MissJean, for she was a lovable woman; and in spite of her isolated life andthe constant plaguings of her brother on being a spinster, she fittedneatly into our pastoral life. It was these teasings of her brother thatgave me my first inkling that the old ranchero was a wily matchmaker, though he religiously denied every such accusation. With a remarkablecomplacency, Jean Lovelace met and parried her tormentor, but herbrother never tired of his hobby while there was a third person tolisten. 

Though an unlettered man, Lance Lovelace had been a close observer ofhumanity. The big book of Life had been open always before him, and hehad profited from its pages. With my advent at Las Palomas, there wereless than half a dozen books on the ranch, among them a copy of BretHarte's poems and a large Bible. 

"That book alone, " said he to several of us one chilly evening, as wesat around the open fireplace, "is the greatest treatise on humanityever written. Go with me to-day to any city in any country inChristendom, and I'll show you a man walk up the steps of his churchon Sunday who thanks God that he's better than his neighbor. But youneedn't go so far if you don't want to. I reckon if I could see myself, I might show symptoms of it occasionally. Sis here thanks God daily thatshe is better than that Barnes girl who cut her out of Amos Alexander. Now, don't you deny it, for you know it's gospel truth! And that bookis reliable on lots of other things. Take marriage, for instance. It isjust as natural for men and women to mate at the proper time, as it isfor steers to shed in the spring. But there's no necessity of making allthis fuss about it. The Bible way discounts all these modern methods. 'He took unto himself a wife' is the way it describes such events. Butnow such an occurrence has to be announced, months in advance. And afterthe wedding is over, in less than a year sometimes, they are glad tosneak off and get the bond dissolved in some divorce court, like I didwith my second wife. "

All of us about the ranch, including Miss Jean, knew that the oldranchero's views on matrimony could be obtained by leading up to thequestion, or differing, as occasion required. So, just to hear him talkon his favorite theme, I said: "Uncle Lance, you must recollect this isa different generation. Now, I've read books"--

"So have I. But it's different in real life. Now, in those novels youhave read, the poor devil is nearly worried to death for fear he'll notget her. There's a hundred things happens; he's thrown off the scentone day and cuts it again the next, and one evening he's in a heaven ofbliss and before the dance ends a rival looms up and there's hell topay, --excuse me, Sis, --but he gets her in the end. And that's the way itgoes in the books. But getting down to actual cases--when the money's onthe table and the game's rolling--it's as simple as picking a sire and adam to raise a race horse. When they're both willing, it don't requireany expert to see it--a one-eyed or a blind man can tell the symptoms. Now, when any of you boys get into that fix, get it over with as soon aspossible. "

"From the drift of your remarks, " said June Deweese very innocently, "why wouldn't it be a good idea to go back to the old method of lettingthe parents make the matches?"

"Yes; it would be a good idea. How in the name of common sense couldyou expect young sap-heads like you boys to understand anything abouta woman? I know what I'm talking about. A single woman never shows hertrue colors, but conceals her imperfections. The average man is not tobe blamed if he fails to see through her smiles and Sunday humor. Now, Iwas forty when I married the second time, and forty-five the last whirl. Looks like I'd a-had some little sense, now, don't it? But I didn't. No, I didn't have any more show than a snowball in--Sis, hadn't you betterretire. You're not interested in my talk to these boys. --Well, if everany of you want to get married you have my consent. But you'd better getmy opinion on her dimples when you do. Now, with my sixty odd years, I'mworth listening to. I can take a cool, dispassionate view of a womannow, and pick every good point about her, just as if she was a cow horsethat I was buying for my own saddle. "

Miss Jean, who had a ready tongue for repartee, took advantage of thefirst opportunity to remark: "Do you know, brother, matrimony is asubject that I always enjoy hearing discussed by such an oracle asyourself. But did it never occur to you what an unjust thing it was ofProvidence to reveal so much to your wisdom and conceal the same from usbabes?"

It took some little time for the gentle reproof to take effect, butUncle Lance had an easy faculty of evading a question when it wascontrary to his own views. "Speaking of the wisdom of babes, " said he, "reminds me of what Felix York, an old '36 comrade of mine, once said. He had caught the gold fever in '49, and nothing would do but he andsome others must go to California. The party went up to Independence, Missouri, where they got into an overland emigrant train, bound for theland of gold. But it seems before starting, Senator Benton had made aspeech in that town, in which he made the prophecy that one day therewould be a railroad connecting the Missouri River with the PacificOcean. Felix told me this only a few years ago. But he said that allthe teamsters made the prediction a byword. When, crossing some of themountain ranges, the train halted to let the oxen blow, one bull-whackerwould say to another: 'Well, I'd like to see old Tom Benton gethis railroad over _this_ mountain. ' When Felix told me this hesaid--'There's a railroad to-day crosses those same mountain passes overwhich we forty-niners whacked our bulls. And to think I was a grown manand had no more sense or foresight than a little baby blinkin' its eyesin the sun. '"

With years at Las Palomas, I learned to like the old ranchero. There wassomething of the strong, primitive man about him which compelled ayouth of my years to listen to his counsel. His confidence in me was acompliment which I appreciate to this day. When I had been in his employhardly two years, an incident occurred which, though only one of manysimilar acts cementing our long friendship, tested his trust. 

One morning just as he was on the point of starting on horseback tothe county seat to pay his taxes, a Mexican arrived at the ranch andannounced that he had seen a large band of _javalina_ on the border ofthe chaparral up the river. Uncle Lance had promised his taxes by acertain date, but he was a true sportsman and owned a fine pack ofhounds; moreover, the peccary is a migratory animal and does not waitupon the pleasure of the hunter. As I rode out from the corrals to learnwhat had brought the vaquero with such haste, the old ranchero cried, "Here, Tom, you'll have to go to the county seat. Buckle this money beltunder your shirt, and if you lack enough gold to cover the taxes, you'llfind silver here in my saddle-bags. Blow the horn, boys, and get theguns. Lead the way, Pancho. And say, Tom, better leave the road aftercrossing the Sordo, and strike through that mesquite country, " he calledback as he swung into the saddle and started, leaving me a sixty-mileride in his stead. His warning to leave the road after crossing thecreek was timely, for a ranchman had been robbed by bandits on that roadthe month before. But I made the ride in safety before sunset, payingthe taxes, amounting to over a thousand dollars. 

During all our acquaintance, extending over a period of twenty years, Lance Lovelace was a constant revelation to me, for he was original inall things. Knowing no precedent, he recognized none which had not theapproval of his own conscience. Where others were content to follow, heblazed his own pathways--immaterial to him whether they were followed byothers or even noticed. In his business relations and in his own way, hewas exact himself and likewise exacting of others. Some there are whomight criticise him for an episode which occurred about four years aftermy advent at Las Palomas. 

Mr. Whitley Booth, a younger man and a brother-in-law of the oldranchero by his first wife, rode into the ranch one evening, evidentlyon important business. He was not a frequent caller, for he was also aranchman, living about forty miles north and west on the Frio River, butwas in the habit of bringing his family down to the Nueces about twice ayear for a visit of from ten days to two weeks' duration. But this time, though we had been expecting the family for some little time, he camealone, remained over night, and at breakfast ordered his horse, as ifexpecting to return at once. The two ranchmen were holding a conferencein the sitting-room when a Mexican boy came to me at the corrals andsaid I was wanted in the house. On my presenting myself, my employersaid: "Tom, I want you as a witness to a business transaction. I'mlending Whit, here, a thousand dollars, and as we have never taken anynotes between us, I merely want you as a witness. Go into my room, please, and bring out, from under my bed, one of those largest bags ofsilver. "

The door was unlocked, and there, under the ranchero's bed, dust-covered, were possibly a dozen sacks of silver. Finding one taggedwith the required amount, I brought it out and laid it on the tablebetween the two men. But on my return I noticed Uncle Lance had turnedhis chair from the table and was gazing out of the window, apparentlyabsorbed in thought. I saw at a glance that he was gazing into the past, for I had become used to these reveries on his part. I had not beenexcused, and an embarrassing silence ensued, which was only broken as helooked over his shoulder and said: "There it is, Whit; count it if youwant to. "

But Mr. Booth, knowing the oddities of Uncle Lance, hesitated. "Well--why--Look here, Lance. If you have any reason for not wanting toloan me this amount, why, say so. "

"There's the money, Whit; take it if you want to. It'll pay for thehundred cows you are figuring on buying. But I was just thinking: cantwo men at our time of life, who have always been friends, afford totake the risk of letting a business transaction like this possibly makeus enemies? You know I started poor here, and what I have made andsaved is the work of my lifetime. You are welcome to the money, but ifanything should happen that you didn't repay me, you know I wouldn'tfeel right towards you. It's probably my years that does it, but--now, Ialways look forward to the visits of your family, and Jean and I alwaysenjoy our visits at your ranch. I think we'd be two old fools to allowanything to break up those pleasant relations. " Uncle Lance turned inhis chair, and, looking into the downcast countenance of Mr. Booth, continued: "Do you know, Whit, that youngest girl of yours reminds me ofher aunt, my own Mary, in a hundred ways. I just love to have your girlstear around this old ranch--they seem to give me back certain glimpsesof my youth that are priceless to an old man. "

"That'll do, Lance, " said Mr. Booth, rising and extending his hand. "Idon't want the money now. Your view of the matter is right, and ourfriendship is worth more than a thousand cattle to me. Lizzie and thegirls were anxious to come with me, and I'll go right back and send themdown. "

CHAPTER II

SHEPHERD'S FERRY

Within a few months after my arrival at Las Palomas, there was a danceat Shepherd's Ferry. There was no necessity for an invitation to suchlocal meets; old and young alike were expected and welcome, and a dancenaturally drained the sparsely settled community of its inhabitants fromforty to fifty miles in every direction. On the Nueces in 1875, theamusements of the countryside were extremely limited; barbecues, tournaments, and dancing covered the social side of ranch life, andwhether given up or down our home river, or north on the Frio, so theywere within a day's ride, the white element of Las Palomas could alwaysbe depended on to be present, Uncle Lance in the lead. 

Shepherd's Ferry is somewhat of a misnomer, for the water in the riverwas never over knee-deep to a horse, except during freshets. There mayhave been a ferry there once; but from my advent on the river there wasnothing but a store, the keeper of which also conducted a road-housefor the accommodation of travelers. There was a fine grove for picnicpurposes within easy reach, which was also frequently used forcamp-meeting purposes. Gnarly old live-oaks spread their branches likea canopy over everything, while the sea-green moss hung from every limband twig, excluding the light and lazily waving with every vagrantbreeze. The fact that these grounds were also used for camp-meetingsonly proved the broad toleration of the people. On this occasion Idistinctly remember that Miss Jean introduced a lady to me, who was thewife of an Episcopal minister, then visiting on a ranch near Oakville, and I danced several times with her and found her very amiable. 

On receipt of the news of the approaching dance at the ferry, we setthe ranch in order. Fortunately, under seasonable conditions work ona cattle range is never pressing. A programme of work outlined for acertain week could easily be postponed a week or a fortnight for thatmatter; for this was the land of "la maņana, " and the white elementon Las Palomas easily adopted the easy-going methods of their Mexicanneighbors. So on the day everything was in readiness. The ranch was atrifle over thirty miles from Shepherd's, which was a fair half day'sride, but as Miss Jean always traveled by ambulance, it was necessary togive her an early start. Las Palomas raised fine horses and mules, andthe ambulance team for the ranch consisted of four mealy-muzzled brownmules, which, being range bred, made up in activity what they lacked insize. 

Tiburcio, a trusty Mexican, for years in the employ of Uncle Lance, wasthe driver of the ambulance, and at an early morning hour he and hismules were on their mettle and impatient to start. But Miss Jean hada hundred petty things to look after. The lunch--enough for around-up--was prepared, and was safely stored under the driver's seat. Then there were her own personal effects and the necessary dressing andtidying, with Uncle Lance dogging her at every turn. 

"Now, Sis, " said he, "I want you to rig yourself out in somethingsumptuous, because I expect to make a killing with you at this dance. I'm almost sure that that Louisiana mule-drover will be there. You knowyou made quite an impression on him when he was through here two yearsago. Well, I'll take a hand in the game this time, and if there's anymarry in him, he'll have to lead trumps. I'm getting tired of having mydear sister trifled with by every passing drover. Yes, I am! The nextone that hangs around Las Palomas, basking in your smiles, has got todeclare his intentions whether he buys mules or not. Oh, you've got abrother, Sis, that'll look out for you. But you must play your part. Now, if that mule-buyer's there, shall I"--

"Why, certainly, brother, invite him to the ranch, " replied Miss Jean, as she busied herself with the preparations. "It's so kind of you tolook after me. I was listening to every word you said, and I've got mybest bib and tucker in that hand box. And just you watch me dazzle thatMr. Mule-buyer. Strange you didn't tell me sooner about his being in thecountry. Here, take these boxes out to the ambulance. And, say, I putin the middle-sized coffee pot, and do you think two packages of groundcoffee will be enough? All right, then. Now, where's my gloves?"

We were all dancing attendance in getting the ambulance off, but UncleLance never relaxed his tormenting, "Come, now, hurry up, " said he, asJean and himself led the way to the gate where the conveyance stoodwaiting; "for I want you to look your best this evening, and you'll beall tired out if you don't get a good rest before the dance begins. Now, in case the mule-buyer don't show up, how about Sim Oliver? You see, Ican put in a good word there just as easily as not. Of course, he's awidower like myself, but you're no spring pullet--you wouldn't classamong the buds--besides Sim branded eleven hundred calves last year. Andthe very last time I was talking to him, he allowed he'd crowd thirteenhundred close this year--big calf crop, you see. Now, just why he shouldgo to the trouble to tell me all this, unless he had his eye on you, isone too many for me. But if you want me to cut him out of your string ofeligibles, say the word, and I'll chouse him out. You just bet, littlegirl, whoever wins you has got to score right. Great Scott! but you havegood taste in selecting perfumery. Um-ee! it makes me half drunk to walkalongside of you. Be sure and put some of that ointment on your kerchiefwhen you get there. "

"Really, " said Miss Jean, as they reached the ambulance, "I wish youhad made a little memorandum of what I'm expected to do--I'm all in aflutter this morning. You see, without your help my case is hopeless. But I think I'll try for the mule-buyer. I'm getting tired looking atthese slab-sided cowmen. Now, just look at those mules--haven't had aharness on in a month. And Tiburcio can't hold four of them, nohow. Lance, it looks like you'd send one of the boys to drive me down to theferry. "

"Why, Lord love you, girl, those mules are as gentle as kittens; and youdon't suppose I'm going to put some gringo over a veteran like Tiburcio. Why, that old boy used to drive for Santa Anna during the invasionin '36. Besides, I'm sending Theodore and Glenn on horseback as abodyguard. Las Palomas is putting her best foot forward this morning ingiving you a stylish turnout, with outriders in their Sunday livery. Andthose two boys are the best ropers on the ranch, so if the mules run offjust give one of your long, keen screams, and the boys will rope andhog-tie every mule in the team. Get in now and don't make any facesabout it. "

It was pettishness and not timidity that ailed Jean Lovelace, for apioneer woman like herself had of course no fear of horse-flesh. Butthe team was acting in a manner to unnerve an ordinary woman. Withme clinging to the bits of the leaders, and a man each holding thewheelers, as they pawed the ground and surged about in their creakingharness, they were anything but gentle; but Miss Jean proudly took herseat; Tiburcio fingered the reins in placid contentment; there was aparting volley of admonitions from brother and sister--the latter wastelling us where we would find our white shirts--when Uncle Lancesignaled to us; and we sprang away from the team. The ambulance gave alurch, forward, as the mules started on a run, but Tiburcio dexterouslythrew them on to a heavy bed of sand, poured the whip into them as theylabored through it; they crossed the sand bed, Glenn Gallup and TheodoreQuayle, riding, at their heads, pointed the team into the road, and theywere off. 

The rest of us busied ourselves getting up saddle horses and dressingfor the occasion. In the latter we had no little trouble, for dressoccasions like this were rare with us. Miss Jean had been thoughtfulenough to lay our clothes out, but there was a busy borrowing of collarsand collar buttons, and a blacking of boots which made the sweat standout on our foreheads in beads. After we were dressed and ready to start, Uncle Lance could not be induced to depart from his usual custom, andwear his trousers outside his boots. Then we had to pull the boots offand polish them clear up to the ears in order to make him presentable. But we were in no particular hurry about starting, as we expected to outacross the country and would overtake the ambulance at the mouth of theArroyo Seco in time for the noonday lunch. There were six in our party, consisting of Dan Happersett, Aaron Scales, John Cotton, June Deweese, Uncle Lance, and myself. With the exception of Deweese, who was nearlytwenty-five years old, the remainder of the boys on the ranch were youngfellows, several of whom besides myself had not yet attained theirmajority. On ranch work, in the absence of our employer, June wasrecognized as the _segundo_ of Los Palomas, owing to his age and hislong employment on the ranch. He was a trustworthy man, and we youngerlads entertained no envy towards him. 

It was about nine o'clock when we mounted our horses and started. Wejollied along in a party, or separated into pairs in cross-countryriding, covering about seven miles an hour. "I remember, " said UncleLance, as we were riding in a group, "the first time I was ever atShepherd's Ferry. We had been down the river on a cow hunt for aboutthree weeks and had run out of bacon. We had been eating beef, andvenison, and antelope for a week until it didn't taste right any longer, so I sent the outfit on ahead and rode down to the store in the hope ofgetting a piece of bacon. Shepherd had just established the place at thetime, and when I asked him if he had any bacon, he said he had, 'But isit good?' I inquired, and before he could reply an eight-year-old boy ofhis stepped between us, and throwing back his tow head, looked up intomy face and said: 'Mister, it's a little the best I ever tasted. '"

"Now, June, " said Uncle Lance, as we rode along, "I want you to letHenry Annear's wife strictly alone to-night. You know what a stink itraised all along the river, just because you danced with her once, lastSan Jacinto day. Of course, Henry made a fool of himself by trying toborrow a six-shooter and otherwise getting on the prod. And I'll admitthat it don't take the best of eyesight to see that his wife to-daythinks more of your old boot than she does of Annear's wedding suit, yet her husband will be the last man to know it. No man can figure to acertainty on a woman. Three guesses is not enough, for she will and shewon't, and she'll straddle the question or take the fence, and when youput a copper on her to win, she loses. God made them just that way, and I don't want to criticise His handiwork. But if my name is LanceLovelace, and I'm sixty-odd years old, and this a chestnut horse thatI'm riding, then Henry Annear's wife is an unhappy woman. But that fact, son, don't give you any license to stir up trouble between man and wife. Now, remember, I've warned you not to dance, speak to, or even noticeher on this occasion. The chances are that that locoed fool will comeheeled this time, and if you give him any excuse, he may burn a littlepowder. "

June promised to keep on his good behavior, saying: "That's just whatI've made up my mind to do. But look'ee here: Suppose he goes on the warpath, you can't expect me to show the white feather, nor let him run anysandys over me. I loved his wife once and am not ashamed of it, and heknows it. And much as I want to obey you, Uncle Lance, if he attempts tostand up a bluff on me, just as sure as hell's hot there'll be a strangeface or two in heaven. "

I was a new man on the ranch and unacquainted with the facts, so shortlyafterwards I managed to drop to the rear with Dan Happersett, and gotthe particulars. It seems that June and Mrs. Annear had not only beensweethearts, but that they had been engaged, and that the engagement hadbeen broken within a month of the day set for their wedding, and thatshe had married Annear on a three weeks' acquaintance. Little wonderUncle Lance took occasion to read the riot act to his _segundo_ in theinterests of peace. This was all news to me, but secretly I wished Junecourage and a good aim if it ever came to a show-down between them. 

We reached the Arroyo Seco by high noon, and found the ambulance in campand the coffee pot boiling. Under the direction of Miss Jean, Tiburciohad removed the seats from the conveyance, so as to afford seatingcapacity for over half our number. The lunch was spread under an oldlive-oak on the bank of the Nueces, making a cosy camp. Miss Jean hadthe happy knack of a good hostess, our twenty-mile ride had whettedour appetites, and we did ample justice to her tempting spread. Afterluncheon was over and while the team was being harnessed in, I noticedMiss Jean enticing Deweese off on one side, where the two held awhispered conversation, seated on an old fallen tree. As they returned, June was promising something which she had asked of him. And ifthere was ever a woman lived who could exact a promise that would berespected, Jean Lovelace was that woman; for she was like an eldersister to us all. 

In starting, the ambulance took the lead as before, and near the middleof the afternoon we reached the ferry. The merry-makers were assemblingfrom every quarter, and on our arrival possibly a hundred had come, which number was doubled by the time the festivities began. We turnedour saddle and work stock into a small pasture, and gave ourselves overto the fast-gathering crowd. I was delighted to see that Miss Jeanand Uncle Lance were accorded a warm welcome by every one, for I wassomewhat of a stray on this new range. But when it became known that Iwas a recent addition to Las Palomas, the welcome was extended to me, which I duly appreciated. 

The store and hostelry did a rushing business during the evening hours, for the dance did not begin until seven. A Mexican orchestra, consistingof a violin, an Italian harp, and two guitars, had come up from Oakvilleto furnish the music for the occasion. Just before the dance commenced, I noticed Uncle Lance greet a late arrival, and on my inquiring of Junewho he might be, I learned that the man was Captain Frank Byler fromLagarto, the drover Uncle Lance had been teasing Miss Jean about in themorning, and a man, as I learned later, who drove herds of horses northon the trail during the summer and during the winter drove mules andhorses to Louisiana, for sale among the planters. Captain Byler was agood-looking, middle-aged fellow, and I made up my mind at once that hewas due to rank as the lion of the evening among the ladies. 

It is useless to describe this night of innocent revelry. It was arustic community, and the people assembled were, with few exceptions, purely pastoral. There may have been earnest vows spoken under thosespreading oaks--who knows? But if there were, the retentive ear whichlistened, and the cautious tongue which spake the vows, had no intentionof having their confidences profaned on this page. Yet it was a nightlong to be remembered. Timid lovers sat apart, oblivious to the gazeof the merry revelers. Matrons and maidens vied with each other inaffability to the sterner sex. I had a most enjoyable time. 

I spoke Spanish well, and made it a point to cultivate the acquaintanceof the leader of the orchestra. On his learning that I also played theviolin, he promptly invited me to play a certain new waltz which he wasdesirous of learning. But I had no sooner taken the violin in my handthan the lazy rascal lighted a cigarette and strolled away, absentinghimself for nearly an hour. But I was familiar with the simple dancemusic of the country, and played everything that was called for. Mytalent was quite a revelation to the boys of our ranch, and especiallyto the owner and mistress of Las Palomas. The latter had me play severalold Colorado River favorites of hers, and I noticed that when she hadthe dashing Captain Byler for her partner, my waltzes seemed never longenough to suit her. 

After I had been relieved, Miss Jean introduced me to a number of nicegirls, and for the remainder of the evening I had no lack of partners. But there was one girl there whom I had not been introduced to, whoalways avoided my glance when I looked at her, but who, when we were inthe same set and I squeezed her hand, had blushed just too lovely. Whenthat dance was over, I went to Miss Jean for an introduction, but shedid not know her, so I appealed to Uncle Lance, for I knew he couldgive the birth date of every girl present. We took a stroll through thecrowd, and when I described her by her big eyes, he said in a voice soloud that I felt sure she must hear: "Why, certainly, I know her. That'sEsther McLeod. I've trotted her on my knee a hundred times. She's theyoungest girl of old man Donald McLeod who used to ranch over on themouth of the San Miguel, north on the Frio. Yes, I'll give you aninterslaption. " Then in a subdued tone: "And if you can drop your ropeon her, son, tie her good and fast, for she's good stock. "

I was made acquainted as his latest adopted son, and inferred the oldranchero's approbation by many a poke in the ribs from him in theintervals between dances; for Esther and I danced every dance togetheruntil dawn. No one could charge me with neglect or inattention, for Iclose-herded her like a hired hand. She mellowed nicely towards me afterthe ice was broken, and with the limited time at my disposal, I madehay. When the dance broke up with the first signs of day, I saddledher horse and assisted her to mount, when I received the cutest littleinvitation, 'if ever I happened over on the Sau Miguel, to try andcall. ' Instead of beating about the bush, I assured her bluntly that ifshe ever saw me on Miguel Creek, it would be intentional; for I shouldhave made the ride purely to see her. She blushed again in a way whichsent a thrill through me. But on the Nueces in '75, if a fellow took afancy to a girl there was no harm in showing it or telling her so. 

I had been so absorbed during the latter part of the night that I hadpaid little attention to the rest of the Las Palomas outfit, thoughI occasionally caught sight of Miss Jean and the drover, generallydancing, sometimes promenading, and once had a glimpse of themtęte-ā-tęte on a rustic settee in a secluded corner. Our employer seldomdanced, but kept his eye on June Deweese in the interests of peace, forAnnear and his wife were both present. Once while Esther and I weremissing a dance over some light refreshment, I had occasion to watchJune as he and Annear danced in the same set. I thought the latteracted rather surly, though Deweese was the acme of geniality, and wasapparently having the time of his life as he tripped through the mazesof the dance. Had I not known of the deadly enmity existing betweenthem, I could never have suspected anything but friendship, he wasacting the part so perfectly. But then I knew he had given his plightedword to the master and mistress, and nothing but an insult or indignitycould tempt him to break it. 

On the return trip, we got the ambulance off before sunrise, expectingto halt and breakfast again at the Arroyo Seco. Aaron Scales and DanHappersett acted as couriers to Miss Jean's conveyance, while the restdallied behind, for there was quite a cavalcade of young folks going adistance our way. This gave Uncle Lance a splendid chance to quiz thegirls in the party. I was riding with a Miss Wilson from Ramirena, whohad come up to make a visit at a near-by ranch and incidentally attendthe dance at Shepherd's. I admit that I was a little too much absorbedover another girl to be very entertaining, but Uncle Lance helped out byjoining us. "Nice morning overhead, Miss Wilson, " said he, on riding up. "Say, I've waited just as long as I'm going to for that invitation toyour wedding which you promised me last summer. Now, I don't know somuch about the young men down about Ramirena, but when I was a youngsterback on the Colorado, when a boy loved a girl he married her, whether itwas Friday or Monday, rain or shine. I'm getting tired of being putoff with promises. Why, actually, I haven't been to a wedding in threeyears. What are we coming to?"

[Illustration: WE GOT THE AMBULANCE OFF BEFORE SUNRISE]

On reaching the road where Miss Wilson and her party separated from us, Uncle Lance returned to the charge: "Now, no matter how busy I am when Iget your invitation, I don't care if the irons are in the fire and thecattle in the corral, I'll drown the fire and turn the cows out. And ifLas Palomas has a horse that'll carry me, I'll merely touch the highplaces in coming. And when I get there I'm willing to do anything, --givethe bride away, say grace, or carve the turkey. And what's more, I neverkissed a bride in my life that didn't have good luck. Tell your pa yousaw me. Good-by, dear. "

On overtaking the ambulance in camp, our party included about twenty, several of whom were young ladies; but Miss Jean insisted that everyone remain for breakfast, assuring them that she had abundance forall. After the impromptu meal was disposed of, we bade our adieus andseparated to the four quarters. Before we had gone far, Uncle Lancerode alongside of me and said: "Tom, why didn't you tell me you was afiddler? God knows you're lazy enough to be a good one, and you ought tobe good on a bee course. But what made me warm to you last night was theway you built to Esther McLeod. Son, you set her cush about right. Ifyou can hold sight on a herd of beeves on a bad night like you did her, you'll be a foreman some day. And she's not only good blood herself, butshe's got cattle and land. Old man Donald, her father, was killed inthe Confederate army. He was an honest Scotchman who kept Sunday andeverything else he could lay his hands on. In all my travels I never meta man who could offer a longer prayer or take a bigger drink of whiskey. I remember the first time I ever saw him. He was serving on the grandjury, and I was a witness in a cattle-stealing case. He was a strangerto me, and we had just sat down at the same table at a hotel for dinner. We were on the point of helping ourselves, when the old Scot arose andstruck the table a blow that made the dishes rattle. 'You heathens, 'said he, 'will you partake of the bounty of your Heavenly Father withoutreturning thanks?' We laid down our knives and forks like boys caught ina watermelon patch, and the old man asked a blessing. I've been at hishouse often. He was a good man, but Secession caught him and he nevercame back. So, Quirk, you see, a son-in-law will be a handy man in thefamily, and with the start you made last night I hope for good results. "The other boys seemed to enjoy my embarrassment, but I said nothing inreply, being a new man with the outfit. We reached the ranch an hourbefore noon, two hours in advance of the ambulance; and the sleeping wedid until sunrise the next morning required no lullaby. 

CHAPTER III

LAS PALOMAS

There is something about those large ranches of southern Texas thatreminds one of the old feudal system. The pathetic attachment to thesoil of those born to certain Spanish land grants can only be comparedto the European immigrant when for the last time he looks on the land ofhis birth before sailing. Of all this Las Palomas was typical. In thecourse of time several such grants had been absorbed into its baronialacres. But it had always been the policy of Uncle Lance never to disturbthe Mexican population; rather he encouraged them to remain in hisservice. Thus had sprung up around Las Palomas ranch a little Mexicancommunity numbering about a dozen families, who lived in _jacals_ closeto the main ranch buildings. They were simple people, and rendered theirnew master a feudal loyalty. There were also several small _ranchites_located on the land, where, under the Mexican régime, there had beenpretentious adobe buildings. A number of families still resided at thesedeserted ranches, content in cultivating small fields or looking afterflocks of goats and a few head of cattle, paying no rental save aservice tenure to the new owner. 

The customs of these Mexican people were simple and primitive. Theyblindly accepted the religious teachings imposed with fire and swordby the Spanish conquerors upon their ancestors. A padre visited themyearly, christening the babes, marrying the youth, shriving thepenitent, and saying masses for the repose of the souls of the departed. Their social customs were in many respects unique. For instance, in courtship a young man was never allowed in the presence of hisinamorata, unless in company of others, or under the eye of a chaperon. Proposals, even among the nearest of neighbors or most intimate offriends, were always made in writing, usually by the father of theyoung man to the parents of the girl, but in the absence of such, by agodfather or _padrino_. Fifteen days was the term allowed for a reply, and no matter how desirable the match might be, it was not accountedgood taste to answer before the last day. The owner of Las Palomaswas frequently called upon to act as _padrino_ for his people, and sosuccessful had he always been that the vaqueros on his ranch preferredhis services to those of their own fathers. There was scarcely a vaqueroat the home ranch but, in time past, had invoked his good offices inthis matter, and he had come to be looked on as their patron saint. 

The month of September was usually the beginning of the branding seasonat Las Palomas. In conducting this work, Uncle Lance was the leader, andwith the white element already enumerated, there were twelve to fifteenvaqueros included in the branding outfit. The dance at Shepherd's haddelayed the beginning of active operations, and a large calf crop, tosay nothing of horse and mule colts, now demanded our attention andpromised several months' work. The year before, Las Palomas had brandedover four thousand calves, and the range was now dotted with the crop, awaiting the iron stamp of ownership. 

The range was an open one at the time, compelling us to work far beyondthe limits of our employer's land. Fortified with our own commissary, and with six to eight horses apiece in our mount, we scoured the countryfor a radius of fifty miles. When approaching another range, it was ourcustom to send a courier in advance to inquire of the ranchero when itwould be convenient for him to give us a rodeo. A day would be set, whenour outfit and the vaqueros of that range rounded up all the cattlewatering at given points. Then we cut out the Las Palomas brand, andheld them under herd or started them for the home ranch, where thecalves were to be branded. In this manner we visited all the adjoiningranches, taking over a month to make the circuit of the ranges. 

In making the tour, the first range we worked was that of rancho SantaMaria, south of our range and on the head of Tarancalous Creek. Onapproaching the ranch, as was customary, we prepared to encamp and askfor a rodeo. But in the choice of a vaquero to be dispatched on thismission, a spirited rivalry sprang up. When Uncle Lance learned that therivalry amongst the vaqueros was meant to embarrass Enrique Lopez, whowas _oso_ to Anita, the pretty daughter of the corporal of Santa Maria, his matchmaking instincts came to the fore. Calling Enrique to one side, he made the vaquero confess that he had been playing for the favor ofthe seņorita at Santa Maria. Then he dispatched Enrique on the mission, bidding him carry the choicest compliments of Las Palomas to every Donand Doņa of Santa Maria. And Enrique was quite capable of adding a fewembellishments to the old matchmaker's extravagant flatteries. 

Enrique was in camp next morning, but at what hour of the night he hadreturned is unknown. The rodeo had been granted for the following day;there was a pressing invitation to Don Lance--unless he was willingto offend--to spend the idle day as the guest of Don Mateo. Enriqueelaborated the invitation with a thousand adornments. But the owner ofLas Palomas had lived nearly forty years among the Spanish-Americanpeople on the Nueces, and knew how to make allowances for the exuberanceof the Latin tongue. There was no telling to what extent Enrique couldhave kept on delivering messages, but to his employer he was avoidingthe issue. 

"But did you get to see Anita?" interrupted Uncle Lance. Yes, he hadseen her, but that was about all. Did not Don Lance know the customsamong the Castilians? There was her mother ever present, or if she mustabsent herself, there was a bevy of _tias comadres_ surrounding her, until the Doņa Anita dare not even raise her eyes to meet his. "Toperdition with such customs, no?" The freedom of a cow camp is asplendid opportunity to relieve one's mind upon prevailing injustices. 

"Don't fret your cattle so early in the morning, son, " admonishedthe wary matchmaker. "I've handled worse cases than this before. YouMexicans are sticklers on customs, and we must deal with our neighborscarefully. Before I show my hand in this, there's just one thing I wantto know--is the girl willing? Whenever you can satisfy me on that point, Enrique, just call on the old man. But before that I won't stir a step. You remember what a time I had over Tiburcio's Juan--that's so, you weretoo young then. Well, June here remembers it. Why, the girl just cut upshamefully. Called Juan an Indian peon, and bragged about her Castilianfamily until you'd have supposed she was a princess of the blood royal. Why, it took her parents and myself a whole day to bring the girl aroundto take a sensible view of matters. On my soul, except that I didn'twant to acknowledge defeat, I felt a dozen times like telling her togo straight up. And when she did marry you, she was as happy as alark--wasn't she, Juan? But I like to have the thing over with in--well, say half an hour's time. Then we can have refreshments, and smoke, anddiscuss the prospects of the young couple. "

Uncle Lance's question was hard to answer. Enrique had known the girlfor several years, had danced with her on many a feast day, and neverlost an opportunity to whisper the old, old story in her willing ear. Others had done the like, but the dark-eyed seņorita is an adept in theart of coquetry, and there you are. But Enrique swore a great oath hewould know. Yes, he would. He would lay siege to her as he had neverdone before. He would become _un oso grande_. Just wait until thebranding was over and the fiestas of the Christmas season were on, andwatch him dog her every step until he received her signal of surrender. Witness, all the saints, this row of Enrique Lopez, that the Doņa Anitashould have no peace of mind, no, not for one little minute, until shehad made a complete capitulation. Then Don Lauce, the _padrino_ of LasPalomas, would at once write the letter which would command the hand ofthe corporal's daughter. Who could refuse such a request, and what was adaughter of Santa Maria compared to a son of Las Palomas?

Tarancalous Creek ran almost due east, and rancho Santa Maria waslocated near its source, depending more on its wells for water supplythan on the stream which only flowed for a few months during the year. Where the watering facilities were so limited the rodeo was an easymatter. A number of small round-ups at each established watering point, a swift cutting out of everything bearing the Las Palomas brand, and wemoved on to the next rodeo, for we had an abundance of help at SantaMaria. The work was finished by the middle of the afternoon. Aftersending, under five or six men, our cut of several hundred cattlewestward on our course, our outfit rode into rancho Santa Maria properto pay our respects. Our wagon had provided an abundant dinner for ourassistants and ourselves; but it would have been, in Mexican etiquette, extremely rude on our part not to visit the rancho and partake of a cupof coffee and a cigarette, thanking the ranchero on parting for hiskindness in granting us the rodeo. 

So when the last round-up was reached, Don Mateo and Uncle Lance turnedthe work over to their corporals, and in advance rode up to Santa Maria. The vaqueros of our ranch were anxious to visit the rancho, so itdevolved on the white element to take charge of the cut. Being astranger to Santa Maria, I was allowed to accompany our _segundo_, June Deweese, on an introductory visit. On arriving at the rancho, thevaqueros scattered among the _jacals_ of their _amigos_, while June andmyself were welcomed at the _casa primero_. There we found Uncle Lancepartaking of refreshment, and smoking a cigarette as though he had beenborn a Seņor Don of some ruling hacienda. June and I were seated atanother table, where we were served with coffee, wafers, and home-madecigarettes. This was perfectly in order, but I could hardly controlmyself over the extravagant Spanish our employer was using in expressingthe amity existing between Santa Maria and Las Palomas. In ordinaryconversation, such as cattle and ranch affairs, Uncle Lance had a goodcommand of Spanish; but on social and delicate topics some of hisefforts were ridiculous in the extreme. He was well aware of hisshortcomings, and frequently appealed to me to assist him. As a boy myplaymates had been Mexican children, so that I not only spoke Spanishfluently but could also readily read and write it. So it was no surpriseto me that, before taking our departure, my employer should commandmy services as an interpreter in driving an entering wedge. He wasparticular to have me assure our host and hostess of his high regard forthem, and his hope that in the future even more friendly relations mightexist between the two ranches. Had Santa Maria no young cavalier for thehand of some daughter of Las Palomas? Ah! there was the true bond forfuture friendships. Well, well, if the soil of this rancho was soimpoverished, then the sons of Las Palomas must take the bit in theirteeth and come courting to Santa Maria. And let Doņa Gregoria look wellto her daughters, for the young men of Las Palomas, true to their race, were not only handsome fellows but ardent lovers, and would be hard torefuse. 

After taking our leave and catching up with the cattle, we pushedwestward for the Ganso, our next stream of water. This creek was atributary to the Nueces, and we worked down it several days, or untilwe had nearly a thousand cattle and were within thirty miles of home. Turning this cut over to June Deweese and a few vaqueros to take into the ranch and brand, the rest of us turned westward and struck theNueces at least fifty miles above Las Palomas. For the next few daysour dragnet took in both sides of the Nueces, and when, on reachingthe mouth of the Ganso, we were met by Deweese and the vaqueros we hadanother bunch of nearly a thousand ready. Dan Happersett was dispatchedwith the second bunch for branding, when we swung north to Mr. Booth'sranch on the Frio, where we rested a day. But there is little recreationon a cow hunt, and we were soon under full headway again. By the time wehad worked down the Frio, opposite headquarters, we had too large a herdto carry conveniently, and I was sent in home with them, neverrejoining the outfit until they reached Shepherd's Ferry. This was adisappointment to me, for I had hopes that when the outfit worked therange around the mouth of San Miguel, I might find some excuse to visitthe McLeod ranch and see Esther. But after turning back up the homeriver to within twenty miles of the ranch, we again turned southward, covering the intervening ranches rapidly until we struck the Tarancalousabout twenty-five miles east of Santa Maria. 

We had spent over thirty days in making this circle, gathering over fivethousand cattle, about one third of which were cows with calves by theirsides. On the remaining gap in the circle we lost two days in waitingfor rodeos, or gathering independently along the Tarancalous, and, onnearing the Santa Maria range, we had nearly fifteen hundred cattle. Ourherd passed within plain view of the rancho, but we did not turn aside, preferring to make a dry camp for the night, some five or six milesfurther on our homeward course. But since we had used the majority ofour _remuda_ very hard that day, Uncle Lance dispatched Enrique andmyself, with our wagon and saddle horses, by way of Santa Maria, towater our saddle stock and refill our kegs for camping purposes. Ofcourse, the compliments of our employer to the ranchero of Santa Mariawent with the _remuda_ and wagon. 

I delivered the compliments and regrets to Don Mateo, and asked thepermission to water our saddle stock, which was readily granted. Thisrequired some time, for we had about a hundred and twenty-five loosehorses with us, and the water had to be raised by rope and pulley fromthe pommel of a saddle horse. After watering the team we refilled ourkegs, and the cook pulled out to overtake the herd, Enrique and Istaying to water the _remuda_. Enrique, who was riding the saddle horse, while I emptied the buckets as they were hoisted to the surface, wasevidently killing time. By his dilatory tactics, I knew the young rascalwas delaying in the hope of getting a word with the Doņa Anita. Butit was getting late, and at the rate we were hoisting darkness wouldovertake us before we could reach the herd. So I ordered Enrique to thebucket, while I took my own horse and furnished the hoisting power. Wewere making some headway with the work, when a party of women, amongthem the Doņa Anita, came down to the well to fill vessels for houseuse. 

This may have been all chance--and then again it may not. But thegallant Enrique now outdid himself, filling jar after jar and liftingthem to the shoulder of the bearer with the utmost zeal and amid aprofusion of compliments. I was annoyed at the interruption in our work, but I could see that Enrique was now in the highest heaven of delight. The Doņa Anita's mother was present, and made it her duty to notice thatonly commonplace formalities passed between her daughter and the ardentvaquero. After the jars were all filled, the bevy of women started ontheir return; but Doņa Anita managed to drop a few feet to the rear ofthe procession, and, looking back, quietly took up one corner of hermantilla, and with a little movement, apparently all innocence, flasheda message back to the entranced Enrique. I was aware of the flirtation, but before I had made more of it Enrique sprang down from the abutmentof the well, dragged me from my horse, and in an ecstasy of joy, crouching behind the abutments, cried: Had I seen the sign? Had I notnoticed her token? Was my brain then so befuddled? Did I not understandthe ways of the seņoritas among his people?--that they always answeredby a wave of the handkerchief, or the mantilla? Ave Maria, Tomas! Suchstupidity! Why, to be sure, they could talk all day with their eyes. 

[Illustration: FLASHED A MESSAGE BACK]

A setting sun finally ended his confidences, and the watering was soonfinished, for Enrique lowered the bucket in a gallop. On our reachingthe herd and while we were catching our night horses, Uncle Lance strodeout to the rope corral, with the inquiry, what had delayed us. "Nothingparticular, " I replied, and looked at Enrique, who shrugged hisshoulders and repeated my answer. "Now, look here, you young liars, "said the old ranchero; "the wagon has been in camp over an hour, and, admitting it did start before you, you had plenty of time to water thesaddle stock and overtake it before it could possibly reach the herd. Ican tell a lie myself, but a good one always has some plausibility. Yourascals were up to some mischief, I'll warrant. "

I had caught out my night horse, and as I led him away to saddle up, Uncle Lance, not content with my evasive answer, followed me. "Go toEnrique, " I whispered; "he'll just bubble over at a good chance to tellyou. Yes; it was the Doņa Anita who caused the delay. " A smotheredchuckling shook the old man's frame, as he sauntered over to whereEnrique was saddling. As the two led off the horse to picket in thegathering dusk, the ranchero had his arm around the vaquero's neck, andI felt that the old matchmaker would soon be in possession of the facts. A hilarious guffaw that reached me as I was picketing my horse announcedthat the story was out, and as the two returned to the fire Uncle Lancewas slapping Enrique on the back at every step and calling him a luckydog. The news spread through the camp like wild-fire, even to thevaqueros on night herd, who instantly began chanting an old love song. While Enrique and I were eating our supper, our employer paced backwardand forward in meditation like a sentinel on picket, and when we hadfinished our meal, he joined us around the fire, inquiring of Enriquehow soon the demand should be made for the corporal's daughter, and wasassured that it could not be done too soon. "The padre only came once ayear, " he concluded, "and they must be ready. "

"Well, now, this is a pretty pickle, " said the old matchmaker, as hepulled his gray mustaches; "there isn't pen or paper in the outfit. Andthen we'll be busy branding on the home range for a month, and I can'tspare a vaquero a day to carry a letter to Santa Maria. And besides, Imight not be at home when the reply came. I think I'll just take thebull by the horns; ride back in the morning and set these old precedentsat defiance, by arranging the match verbally. I can make the talk thatthis country is Texas now, and that under the new regime Americancustoms are in order. That's what I'll do--and I'll take Tom Quirk withme for fear I bog down in my Spanish. "

But several vaqueros, who understood some English, advised Enrique ofwhat the old matchmaker proposed to do, when the vaquero threw his handsin the air and began sputtering Spanish in terrified disapproval. Didnot Don Lance know that the marriage usages among his people were theirmost cherished customs? "Oh, yes, son, " languidly replied Uncle Lance. "I'm some strong on the cherish myself, but not when it interfereswith my plans. It strikes me that less than a month ago I heard youcondemning to perdition certain customs of your people. Now, don't geton too high a horse--just leave it to Tom and me. We may stay a week, but when we come back we'll bring your betrothal with us in our vestpockets. There was never a Mexican born who can outhold me on palaver;and we'll eat every chicken on Santa Maria unless they surrender. "

As soon as the herd had started for home the next morning, Uncle Lanceand I returned to Santa Maria. We were extended a cordial reception byDon Mateo, and after the chronicle of happenings since the two rancheroslast met had been reviewed, the motive of our sudden return wasmentioned. By combining the vocabularies of my employer and myself, wementioned our errand as delicately as possible, pleading guilty andcraving every one's pardon for our rudeness in verbally conducting thenegotiations. To our surprise, --for to Mexicans customs are as rootedas Faith, --Don Mateo took no offense and summoned Doņa Gregoria. I wasplaying a close second to the diplomat of our side of the house, andwhen his Spanish failed him and he had recourse to English, it isneedless to say I handled matters to the best of my ability. The Spanishis a musical, passionate language and well suited to love making, andthough this was my first use of it for that purpose, within half an hourwe had won the ranchero and his wife to our side of the question. 

Then, at Don Mateo's orders, the parents of the girl were summoned. Thisinvolved some little delay, which permitted coffee being served, anddiscussion, over the cigarettes, of the commonplace matters of thecountry. There was beginning to be a slight demand for cattle to driveto the far north on the trails, some thought it was the sign of a bigdevelopment, but neither of the rancheros put much confidence in themovement, etc. , etc. The corporal and his wife suddenly made theirappearance, dressed in their best, which accounted for the delay, andall cattle conversation instantly ceased. Uncle Lance arose and greetedthe husky corporal and his timid wife with warm cordiality. I extendedmy greetings to the Mexican foreman, whom I had met at the rodeo about amonth before. We then resumed our seats, but the corporal and his wiferemained standing, and with an elegant command of his native tongue DonMateo informed the couple of our mission. They looked at each other inbewilderment. Tears came into the wife's eyes. For a moment I pitiedher. Indeed, the pathetic was not lacking. But the hearty corporalreminded his better half that her parents, in his interests, had oncebeen asked for her hand under similar circumstances, and the tearsdisappeared. Tears are womanly; and I have since seen them shed, underless provocation, by fairer-skinned women than this simple, swarthydaughter of Mexico. 

It was but natural that the parents of the girl should feign surpriseand reluctance if they did not feel it. The Doņa Anita's mother offeredseveral trivial objections. Her daughter had never taken her into herconfidence over any suitor. And did Anita really love Enrique Lopez ofLas Palomas? Even if she did, could he support her, being but a vaquero?This brought Uncle Lance to the front. He had known Enrique since theday of his birth. As a five-year-old, and naked as the day he was born, had he not ridden a colt at branding time, twice around the big corralwithout being thrown? At ten, had he not thrown himself across a gatewayand allowed a _caballada_ of over two hundred wild range horses to jumpover his prostrate body as they passed in a headlong rush through thegate? Only the year before at branding, when an infuriated bull haddriven every vaquero out of the corrals, did not Enrique mount hishorse, and, after baiting the bull out into the open, play with him likea kitten with a mouse? And when the bull, tiring, attempted to makehis escape, who but Enrique had lassoed the animal by the fore feet, breaking his neck in the throw? The diplomat of Las Palomas dejectedlyadmitted that the bull was a prize animal, but could not deny that hehimself had joined in the plaudits to the daring vaquero. But if therewere a possible doubt that the Doņa Anita did not love this son of LasPalomas, then Lance Lovelace himself would oppose the union. This was animportant matter. Would Don Mateo be so kind as to summon the seņorita?

The seņorita came in response to the summons. She was a girl of possiblyseventeen summers, several inches taller than her mother, possessinga beautiful complexion with large lustrous eyes. There was somethingfawnlike in her timidity as she gazed at those about the table. DoņaGregoria broke the news, informing her that the ranchero of Las Palomashad asked her hand in marriage for Enrique, one of his vaqueros. Did shelove the man and was she willing to marry him? For reply the girl hidher face in the mantilla of her mother. With commendable tact DoņaGregoria led the mother and daughter into another room, from which thetwo elder women soon returned with a favorable reply. Uncle Lance aroseand assured the corporal and his wife that their daughter would receivehis special care and protection; that as long as water ran and grassgrew, Las Palomas would care for her own children. 

We accepted an invitation to remain for dinner, as several hours hadelapsed since our arrival. In company with the corporal, I attended toour horses, leaving the two rancheros absorbed in a discussion of Texasfever, rumors of which were then attracting widespread attention in thenorth along the cattle trails. After dinner we took our leave of hostand hostess, promising to send Enrique to Santa Maria at the earliestopportunity. 

It was a long ride across country to Las Palomas, but striking a freegait, unencumbered as we were, we covered the country rapidly. I hadsomewhat doubted the old matchmaker's sincerity in making this match, but as we rode along he told me of his own marriage to Mary Bryan, andthe one happy year of life which it brought him, mellowing into a moodof seriousness which dispelled all doubts. It was almost sunset when wesighted in the distance the ranch buildings at Las Palomas, and half anhour later as we galloped up to assist the herd which was nearing thecorrals, the old man stood in his stirrups and, waving his hat, shoutedto his outfit: "Hurrah for Enrique and the Doņa Anita!" And as the lastof the cattle entered the corral, a rain of lassos settled over thesmiling rascal and his horse, and we led him in triumph to the house forMiss Jean's blessing. 

CHAPTER IV

CHRISTMAS

The branding on the home range was an easy matter. The cattle werecompelled to water from the Nueces, so that their range was never overfive or six miles from the river. There was no occasion even to take outthe wagon, though we made a one-night camp at the mouth of the Ganso, and another about midway between the home ranch and Shepherd's Ferry, pack mules serving instead of the wagon. On the home range, in gatheringto brand, we never disturbed the mixed cattle, cutting out only the cowsand calves. On the round-up below the Ganso, we had over three thousandcattle in one rodeo, finding less than five hundred calves belonging toLas Palomas, the bulk on this particular occasion being steer cattle. There had been little demand for steers for several seasons and they hadaccumulated until many of them were fine beeves, five and six years old. 

When the branding proper was concluded, our tally showed nearlyfifty-one hundred calves branded that season, indicating about twentythousand cattle in the Las Palomas brand. After a week's rest, withfresh horses, we re-rode the home range in squads of two, and brandedany calves we found with a running iron. This added nearly a hundredmore to our original number. On an open range like ours, it was notexpected that everything would be branded; but on quitting, it is safeto say we had missed less than one per cent of our calf crop. 

The cattle finished, we turned our attention to the branding of thehorse stock. The Christmas season was approaching, and we wanted to getthe work well in hand for the usual holiday festivities. There were somefifty _manadas_ of mares belonging to Las Palomas, about one fourth ofwhich were used for the rearing of mules, the others growing our saddlehorses for ranch use. These bands numbered twenty to twenty-five broodmares each, and ranged mostly within twenty miles of the home ranch. They were never disturbed except to brand the colts, market surplusstock, or cut out the mature geldings to be broken for saddle use. Each_manada_ had its own range, never trespassing on others, but when theywere brought together in the corral there was many a battle royal amongthe stallions. 

I was anxious to get the work over in good season, for I intended to askfor a two weeks' leave of absence. My parents lived near Cibollo Ford onthe San Antonio River, and I made it a rule to spend Christmas with myown people. This year, in particular, I had a double motive in goinghome; for the mouth of San Miguel and the McLeod ranch lay directly onmy route. I had figured matters down to a fraction; I would have a goodexcuse for staying one night going and another returning. And it wouldbe my fault if I did not reach the ranch at an hour when an invitationto remain over night would be simply imperative under the canons ofTexas hospitality. I had done enough hard work since the dance atShepherd's to drive every thought of Esther McLeod out of my mind ifthat were possible, but as the time drew nearer her invitation to callwas ever uppermost in my thoughts. 

So when the last of the horse stock was branded and the work was drawingto a close, as we sat around the fireplace one night and the questioncame up where each of us expected to spend Christmas, I broached myplan. The master and mistress were expected at the Booth ranch on theFrio. Nearly all the boys, who had homes within two or three days' ride, hoped to improve the chance to make a short visit to their people. When, among the others, I also made my application for leave of absence, UncleLance turned in his chair with apparent surprise. "What's that? You wantto go home? Well, now, that's a new one on me. Why, Tom, I never knewyou had any folks; I got the idea, somehow, that you was won on a horserace. Here I had everything figured out to send you down to Santa Mariawith Enrique. But I reckon with the ice broken, he'll have to swim outor drown. Where do your folks live?" I explained that they lived on theSan Antonio River, northeast about one hundred and fifty miles. At thisI saw my employer's face brighten. "Yes, yes, I see, " said he musingly;"that will carry you past the widow McLeod's. You can go, son, and goodluck to you. "

I timed my departure from Las Palomas, allowing three days for the trip, so as to reach home on Christmas eve. By making a slight deviation, there was a country store which I could pass on the last day, where Iexpected to buy some presents for my mother and sisters. But I was in apickle as to what to give Esther, and on consulting Miss Jean, I foundthat motherly elder sister had everything thought out in advance. Therewas an old Mexican woman, a pure Aztec Indian, at a ranchita belongingto Las Palomas, who was an expert in Mexican drawn work. The mistress ofthe home ranch had been a good patron of this old woman, and the nextmorning we drove over to the ranchita, where I secured half a dozenladies' handkerchiefs, inexpensive but very rare. 

I owned a private horse, which had run idle all summer, and naturallyexpected to ride him on this trip. But Uncle Lance evidently wanted meto make a good impression on the widow McLeod, and brushed my plansaside, by asking me as a favor to ride a certain black horse belongingto his private string. "Quirk, " said he, the evening before mydeparture, "I wish you would ride Wolf, that black six-year-old in mymount. When that rascal of an Enrique saddle-broke him for me, he alwaysmounted him with a free head and on the move, and now when I use himhe's always on the fidget. So you just ride him over to the San Antonioand back, and see if you can't cure him of that restlessness. It may bemy years, but I just despise a horse that's always dancing a jig when Iwant to mount him. "

Glenn Gallup's people lived in Victoria County, about as far from LasPalomas as mine, and the next morning we set out down the river. Ourcourse together only led a short distance, but we jogged along untilnoon, when we rested an hour and parted, Glenn going on down the riverfor Oakville, while I turned almost due north across country for themouth of San Miguel. The black carried me that afternoon as though thesaddle was empty. I was constrained to hold him in, in view of thelong journey before us, so as not to reach the McLeod ranch too early. Whenever we struck cattle on our course, I rode through them to passaway the time, and just about sunset I cantered up to the McLeod ranchwith a dash. I did not know a soul on the place, but put on a bold frontand asked for Miss Esther. On catching sight of me, she gave a littlestart, blushed modestly, and greeted me cordially. 

Texas hospitality of an early day is too well known to need comment;I was at once introduced to the McLeod household. It was rather apretentious ranch, somewhat dilapidated in appearance--appearancesare as deceitful on a cattle ranch as in the cut of a man's coat. TonyHunter, a son-in-law of the widow, was foreman on the ranch, and duringthe course of the evening in the discussion of cattle matters, Iinnocently drew out the fact that their branded calf crop of that seasonamounted to nearly three thousand calves. When a similar question wasasked me, I reluctantly admitted that the Las Palomas crop was quite adisappointment this year, only branding sixty-five hundred calves, butthat our mule and horse colts ran nearly a thousand head without equalsin the Nueces valley. 

I knew there was no one there who could dispute my figures, though Mrs. McLeod expressed surprise at them. "Ye dinna say, " said my hostess, looking directly at me over her spectacles, "that Las Palomas brandedthat mony calves thi' year? Why, durin' ma gudeman's life we alwaybranded mair calves than did Mr. Lovelace. But then my husband wouldjoin the army, and I had tae depend on greasers tae do ma work, and oorkye grew up mavericks. " I said nothing in reply, knowing it to be quitenatural for a woman or inexperienced person to feel always the prey ofthe fortunate and far-seeing. 

The next morning before leaving, I managed to have a nice private talkwith Miss Esther, and thought I read my title clear, when she surprisedme with the information that her mother contemplated sending her off toSan Antonio to a private school for young ladies. Her two elder sistershad married against her mother's wishes, it seemed, and Mrs. McLeod wasdetermined to give her youngest daughter an education and fit her forsomething better than being the wife of a common cow hand. This was theinference from the conversation which passed between us at the gate. Butwhen Esther thanked me for the Christmas remembrance I had brought her, I felt that I would take a chance on her, win or lose. Assuring her thatI would make it a point to call on my return, I gave the black a freerein and galloped out of sight. 

I reached home late on Christmas eve. My two elder brothers, who alsofollowed cattle work, had arrived the day before, and the Quirk familywere once more united, for the first time in two years. Within an hourafter my arrival, I learned from my brothers that there was to be adance that night at a settlement about fifteen miles up the river. They were going, and it required no urging on their part to insure thepresence of Quirk's three boys. Supper over, a fresh horse was furnishedme, and we set out for the dance, covering the distance in less thantwo hours. I knew nearly every one in the settlement, and got a cordialwelcome. I played the fiddle, danced with my former sweethearts, and, ere the sun rose in the morning, rode home in time for breakfast. Duringthat night's revelry, I contrasted my former girl friends on theSan Antonio with another maiden, a slip of the old Scotch stock, transplanted and nurtured in the sunshine and soil of the San Miguel. The comparison stood all tests applied, and in my secret heart I knewwho held the whip hand over the passions within me. 

As I expected to return to Las Palomas for the New Year, my time waslimited to a four days' visit at home. But a great deal can be said infour days; and at the end I was ready to saddle my black, bid my adieus, and ride for the southwest. During my visit I was careful not to betraythat I had even a passing thought of a sweetheart, and what parentswould suspect that a rollicking, carefree young fellow of twentycould have any serious intentions toward a girl? With brothers tooindifferent, and sisters too young, the secret was my own, though Wolf, my mount, as he put mile after mile behind us, seemed conscious that hismission to reach the San Miguel without loss of time was of more thanordinary moment. And a better horse never carried knight in the days ofchivalry. 

On reaching the McLeod ranch during the afternoon of the second day, Ifound Esther expectant; but the welcome of her mother was of a frigidorder. Having a Scotch mother myself, I knew something of arbitrarynatures, and met Mrs. McLeod's coolness with a fund of talk and stories;yet I could see all too plainly that she was determinedly on thedefensive. I had my favorite fiddle with me which I was taking back toLas Palomas, and during the evening I played all the old Scotch balladsI knew and love songs of the highlands, hoping to soften her from thedecided stand she had taken against me and my intentions. But herheritage of obstinacy was large, and her opposition strong, as severalwell-directed thrusts which reached me in vulnerable places made meaware, but I smiled as if they were flattering compliments. Severaltimes I mentally framed replies only to smother them, for I was thestranger within her gates, and if she saw fit to offend a guest she wasstill within her rights. 

But the next morning as I tarried beyond the reasonable hour for mydeparture, her wrath broke out in a torrent. "If ye dinna ken the wayhame, Mr. Quirk, I'll show it ye, " she said as she joined Esther and meat the hitch-rack, where we had been loitering for an hour. "And I dinnacare muckle whaur ye gang, so ye get oot o' ma sight, and stay oot o'it. I thocht ye waur a ceevil stranger when ye bided wi' us last week, but noo I ken ye are something mair, ridin' your fine horses an' makin'presents tae ma lassie. That's a' the guid that comes o' lettin' her rintae every dance at Shepherd's Ferry. Gang ben the house tae your wark, ye jade, an' let me attend tae this fine gentleman. Noo, sir, gin ye onybusiness onywhaur else, ye 'd aye better be ridin' tae it, for ye are nowanted here, ye ken. "

"Why, Mrs. McLeod, " I broke in politely. "You hardly know anything aboutme. "

"No, an' I dinna wish it. You are frae Las Palomas, an' that's ayeenough for me. I ken auld Lance Lovelace, an' those that bide wi' him. Sma' wonder he brands sae mony calves and sells mair kye than a' theither ranchmen in the country. Ay, man, I ken him well. "

I saw that I had a tartar to deal with, but if I could switch herinvective on some one absent, it would assist me in controlling myself. So I said to the old lady: "Why, I've known Mr. Lovelace now almost ayear, and over on the Nueces he is well liked, and considered a cowmanwhose word is as good as gold. What have you got against him?"

"Ower much, ma young freend. I kent him afore ye were born. I'm sorrytae say that while ma gudeman was alive, he was a frequent visitor atoor place. But we dinna see him ony mair. He aye keeps awa' frae here, and camps wi' his wagons when he's ower on the San Miguel to gathercattle. He was no content merely wi' what kye drifted doon on theNueces, but warked a big outfit the year around, e'en comin' ower on theFrio an' San Miguel maverick huntin'. That's why he brands twice thecalves that onybody else does, and owns a forty-mile front o' land onboth sides o' the river. Ye see, I ken him weel. "

"Well, isn't that the way most cowmen got their start?" I innocentlyinquired, well knowing it was. "And do you blame him for running hisbrand on the unowned cattle that roamed the range? I expect if Mr. Lovelace was my father instead of my employer, you wouldn't be talkingin the same key, " and with that I led my horse out to mount. 

"Ye think a great deal o' yersel', because ye're frae Las Palomas. Aweel, no vaquero of auld Lance Lovelace can come sparkin' wi' ma lass. I've heard o' auld Lovelace's matchmaking. I'm told he mak's matches andthen laughs at the silly gowks. I've twa worthless sons-in-law the noo, are here an' anither a stage-driver. Aye, they 're capital husbands forDonald McLeod's lassies, are they no? Afore I let Esther marry the firstscamp that comes simperin' aroond here, I'll put her in a convent, an'mak' a nun o' the bairn. I gave the ither lassies their way, an' look atthe reward. I tell ye I'm goin' to bar the door on the last one, an' theman that marries her will be worthy o' her. He winna be a vaquero fraeLas Palomas either!"

I had mounted my horse to start, well knowing it was useless to arguewith an angry woman. Esther had obediently retreated to the safety ofthe house, aware that her mother had a tongue and evidently willing tobe spared its invective in my presence. My horse was fidgeting about, impatient to be off, but I gave him the rowel and rode up to the gate, determined, if possible, to pour oil on the troubled waters. "Mrs. McLeod, " said I, in humble tones, "possibly you take the correct view ofthis matter. Miss Esther and I have only been acquainted a few months, and will soon forget each other. Please take me in the house and let metell her good-by. "

"No, sir. Dinna set foot inside o' this gate. I hope ye know ye're nowanted here. There's your road, the one leadin' south, an' ye'd betterbe goin', I'm thinkin'. "

I held in the black and rode off in a walk. This was the first cleanknock-out I had ever met. Heretofore I had been egotistical enough tohold my head rather high, but this morning it drooped. Wolf seemed tonotice it, and after the first mile dropped into an easy volunteer walk. I never noticed the passing of time until we reached the river, and theblack stopped to drink. Here I unsaddled for several hours; then wenton again in no cheerful mood. Before I came within sight of Las Palomasnear evening, my horse turned his head and nickered, and in a fewminutes Uncle Lance and June Deweese galloped up and overtook me. I hadfigured out several very plausible versions of my adventure, but thissudden meeting threw me off my guard--and Lance Lovelace was a hard manto tell an undetected, white-faced lie. I put on a bold front, but hissalutation penetrated it at a glance. 

"What's the matter, Tom; any of your folks dead?"

"No. "

"Sick?"

"No. "

"Girl gone back on you?"

"I don't think. "

"It's the old woman, then?"

"How do you know?"

"Because I know that old dame. I used to go over there occasionally whenold man Donald was living, but the old lady--excuse me! I ought tohave posted you, Tom, but I don't suppose it would have done any good. Brought your fiddle with you, I see. That's good. I expect the old ladyread my title clear to you. "

My brain must have been under a haze, for I repeated every charge shehad made against him, not even sparing the accusation that he hadremained out of the army and added to his brand by mavericking cattle. 

"Did she say that?" inquired Uncle Lance, laughing. "Why, the oldhellion! She must have been feeling in fine fettle!"

CHAPTER V

A PIGEON HUNT

The new year dawned on Las Palomas rich in promise of future content. Uncle Lance and I had had a long talk the evening before, and underthe reasoning of the old optimist the gloom gradually lifted from myspirits. I was glad I had been so brutally blunt that evening, regardingwhat Mrs. McLeod had said about him; for it had a tendency to increasethe rancher's aggressiveness in my behalf. "Hell, Tom, " said the oldman, as we walked from the corrals to the house, "don't let a littlething like this disturb you. Of course she'll four-flush and bluff youif she can, but you don't want to pay any more attention to the old ladythan if she was some _pelado_. To be sure, it would be better to haveher consent, but then"--

Glenn Gallup also arrived at the ranch on New Year's eve. He broughtthe report that wild pigeons were again roosting at the big bend of theriver. It was a well-known pigeon roost, but the birds went to otherwinter feeding grounds, except during years when there was a plentifulsweet mast. This bend was about midway between the ranch and Shepherd's, contained about two thousand acres, and was heavily timbered with ash, pecan, and hackberry. The feeding grounds lay distant, extending fromthe encinal ridges on the Las Palomas lands to live-oak groves a hundredmiles to the southward. But however far the pigeons might go for food, they always returned to the roosting place at night. 

"That means pigeon pie, " said Uncle Lance, on receiving Glenn's report. "Everybody and the cook can go. We only have a sweet mast about everythree or four years in the encinal, but it always brings the wildpigeons. We'll take a couple of pack mules and the little and the bigpot and the two biggest Dutch ovens on the ranch. Oh, you got to parboila pigeon if you want a tender pie. Next to a fish fry, a good pigeon piemakes the finest eating going. I've made many a one, and I give noticeright now that the making of the pie falls to me or I won't play. Andanother thing, not a bird shall be killed more than we can use. Ofcourse we'll bring home a mess, and a few apiece for the Mexicans. "

We had got up our horses during the forenoon, and as soon as dinner wasover the white contingent saddled up and started for the roost. Tiburcioand Enrique accompanied us, and, riding leisurely, we reached the bendseveral hours before the return of the birds. The roost had been inuse but a short time, but as we scouted through the timber there wasabundant evidence of an immense flight of pigeons. The ground wasliterally covered with feathers; broken limbs hung from nearly everytree, while in one instance a forked hackberry had split from the weightof the birds. 

We made camp on the outskirts of the timber, and at early dusk greatflocks of pigeons began to arrive at their roosting place. We only hadfour shotguns, and, dividing into pairs, we entered the roost shortlyafter dark. Glenn Gallup fell to me as my pardner. I carried the gunnysack for the birds, not caring for a gun in such unfair shooting. Theflights continued to arrive for fully an hour after we entered theroost, and in half a dozen shots we bagged over fifty birds. Rememberingthe admonition of Uncle Lance, Gallup refused to kill more, and we satdown and listened to the rumbling noises of the grove. There was aconstant chattering of the pigeons, and as they settled in great flightsin the trees overhead, whipping the branches with their wings in searchof footing, they frequently fell to the ground at our feet. 

Gallup and I returned to camp early. Before we had skinned our kill theothers had all come in, disgusted with the ease with which theyhad filled their bags. We soon had two pots filled and on the fireparboiling, while Tiburcio lined two ovens with pastry, all ready forthe baking. In a short time two horsemen, attracted by our fire, crossedthe river below our camp and rode up. 

"Hello, Uncle Lance, " lustily shouted one of them, as he dismounted. "It's you, is it, that's shooting my pigeons? All right, sir, I'll stayall night and help you eat them. I had figured on riding back to theFrio to-night, but I've changed my mind. Got any horse hobbles here?"The two men, George Nathan and Hugh Trotter, were accommodated withhobbles, and after an exchange of commonplace news of the country, wesettled down to story-telling. Trotter was a convivial acquaintance ofAaron Scales, quite a vagabond and consequently a story-teller. AfterTrotter had narrated a late dream, Scales unlimbered and told one of hisown. 

"I remember a dream I had several years ago, and the only way I canaccount for it was, I had been drinking more or less during the day. I dreamt I was making a long ride across a dreary desert, and towardsnight it threatened a bad storm. I began to look around for someshelter. I could just see the tops of a clump of trees beyond a hill, and rode hard to get to them, thinking that there might be a houseamongst them. How I did ride! But I certainly must have had a poorhorse, for I never seemed to get any nearer that timber. I rode androde, but all this time, hours and hours it seemed, and the stormgathering and scattering raindrops falling, the timber seemed scarcelyany nearer. 

"At last I managed to reach the crest of the hill. Well, sir, therewasn't a tree in sight, only, under the brow of the hill, a desertedadobe _jacal_, and I rode for that, picketed my horse and went in. The_jacal_ had a thatched roof with several large holes in it, and in thefireplace burned a roaring fire. That was some strange, but I didn'tmind it and I was warming my hands before the fire and congratulatingmyself on my good luck, when a large black cat sprang from the outsideinto an open window, and said: 'Pardner, it looks like a bad nightoutside. '

"I eyed him a little suspiciously; but, for all that, if he hadn'tspoken, I wouldn't have thought anything about it, for I like cats. He walked backward and forward on the window sill, his spine and tailnicely arched, and rubbed himself on either window jamb. I watched himsome little time, and finally concluded to make friends with him. Goingover to the window, I put out my hand to stroke his glossy back, whena gust of rain came through the window and the cat vanished into thedarkness. 

"I went back to the fire, pitying the cat out there in the night'sstorm, and was really sorry I had disturbed him. I didn't give thematter overmuch attention but sat before the fire, wondering who couldhave built it and listening to the rain outside, when all of a suddenMr. Cat walked between my legs, rubbing himself against my boots, purring and singing. Once or twice I thought of stroking his fur, butchecked myself on remembering he had spoken to me on the window sill. Hewould walk over and rub himself against the jambs of the fireplace, andthen come back and rub himself against my boots friendly like. I saw himjust as clear as I see those pots on the fire or these saddles lyingaround here. I was noting every move of his as he meandered around, whenpresently he cocked up an eye at me and remarked: 'Old sport, this is afine fire we have here. '

"I was beginning to feel a little creepy, for I'd seen mad dogs andskunks, and they say a cat gets locoed likewise, and the cuss wastalking so cleverly that I began to lose my regard for him. After alittle while I concluded to pet him, for he didn't seem a bit afraid;but as I put out my hand to catch him, he nimbly hopped into the roaringfire and vanished. Then I did feel foolish. I had a good six-shooter, and made up my mind if he showed up again I'd plug him one for luck. Iwas growing sleepy, and it was getting late, so I concluded to spreaddown my saddle blankets and slicker before the fire and go to sleep. While I was making down my bed, I happened to look towards the fire, when there was my black cat, with not even a hair singed. I drew my gunquietly and cracked away at him, when he let out the funniest littlelaugh, saying: 'You've been drinking, Aaron; you're nervous; youcouldn't hit a flock of barns. '

"I was getting excited by this time, and cut loose on him rapidly, buthe dodged every shot, jumping from the hearth to the mantel, from themantel to an old table, from there to a niche in the wall, and from theniche clear across the room and out of the window. About then I was somenervous, and after a while lay down before the fire and tried to go tosleep. 

"It was a terrible night outside--one of those nights when you can hearthings; and with the vivid imagination I was enjoying then, I was almostafraid to try to sleep. But just as I was going into a doze, I raisedup my head, and there was my cat walking up and down my frame, his backarched and his tail flirting with the slow sinuous movement of a snake. I reached for my gun, and as it clicked in cocking, he began raking mylegs, sharpening his claws and growling like a tiger. I gave a yell andkicked him off, when he sprang up on the old table and I could see hiseyes glaring at me. I emptied my gun at him a second time, and at everyshot he crouched lower and crept forward as if getting ready to spring. When I had fired the last shot I jumped up and ran out into the rain, and hadn't gone more than a hundred yards before I fell into a dry wash. When I crawled out there was that d----d cat rubbing himself against myboot leg. I stood breathless for a minute, thinking what next to do, andthe cat remarked: 'Wasn't that a peach of a race we just had!'

"I made one or two vicious kicks at him and he again vanished. Well, fellows, in that dream I walked around that old _jacal_ all night in myshirt sleeves, and it raining pitchforks. A number of times I peeped inthrough the window or door, and there sat the cat on the hearth, in fullpossession of the shack, and me out in the weather. Once when I lookedin he was missing, but while I was watching he sprang through a holein the roof, alighting in the fire, from which he walked out gingerly, shaking his feet as if he had just been out in the wet. I shot awayevery cartridge I had at him, but in the middle of the shooting he wouldjust coil up before the fire and snooze away. 

"That night was an eternity of torment to me, and I was relieved whensome one knocked on the door, and I awoke to find myself in a good bedand pounding my ear on a goose-hair pillow in a hotel in Oakville. Why, I wouldn't have another dream like that for a half interest in the LasPalomas brand. No, honest, if I thought drinking gave me that hideousdream, here would be one lad ripe for reform. "

"It strikes me, " said Uncle Lance, rising and lifting a pot lid, "thatthese birds are parboiled by this time. Bring me a fork, Enrique. Well, I should say they were. I hope hell ain't any hotter than that fire. Now, Tiburcio, if you have everything ready, we'll put them in the oven, and bake them a couple of hours. "

Several of us assisted in fixing the fire and properly coaling theovens. When this had been attended to, and we had again resumed our easypositions around the fire, Trotter remarked: "Aaron, you ought to cutdrinking out of your amusements; you haven't the constitution to standit. Now with me it's different. I can drink a week and neversleep; that's the kind of a build to have if you expect to travel andmeet all comers. Last year I was working for a Kansas City man onthe trail, and after the cattle were delivered about a hundred milesbeyond, --Ellsworth, up in Kansas, --he sent us home by way of KansasCity. In fact, that was about the only route we could take. Well, it wasa successful trip, and as this man was plum white, anyhow, he concludedto show us the sights around his burg. He was interested in a commissionfirm out at the stockyards, and the night we reached there all theoffice men, including the old man himself, turned themselves loose toshow us a good time. 

"We had been drinking alkali water all summer, and along about midnightthey began to drop out until there was no one left to face the musicexcept a little cattle salesman and myself. After all the others quitus, we went into a feed trough on a back street, and had a good supper. I had been drinking everything like a good fellow, and at several placesthere was no salt to put in the beer. The idea struck me that I wouldbuy a sack of salt from this eating ranch and take it with me. Thelandlord gave me a funny look, but after some little parley went to therear and brought out a five-pound sack of table salt. 

"It was just what I wanted, and after paying for it the salesman andI started out to make a night of it. This yard man was a short, fatDutchman, and we made a team for your whiskers. I carried the sack ofsalt under my arm, and the quantity of beer we killed before daylightwas a caution. About daybreak, the salesman wanted me to go to ourhotel and go to bed, but as I never drink and sleep at the same time, I declined. Finally he explained to me that he would have to be at theyards at eight o'clock, and begged me to excuse him. By this time he wasseveral sheets in the wind, while I could walk a chalk line without awaver. Somehow we drifted around to the hotel where the outfit weresupposed to be stopping, and lined up at the bar for a final drink. It was just daybreak, and between that Dutch cattle salesman and thebarkeeper and myself, it would have taken a bookkeeper to have kept acheck on the drinks we consumed--every one the last. 

"Then the Dutchman gave me the slip and was gone, and I wandered intothe office of the hotel. A newsboy sold me a paper, and the next minutea bootblack wanted to give me a shine. Well, I took a seat for a shine, and for two hours I sat there as full as a tick, and as dignified asa judge on the bench. All the newsboys and bootblacks caught on, andbefore any of the outfit showed up that morning to rescue me, I hadbought a dozen papers and had my boots shined for the tenth time. If I'dbeen foxy enough to have got rid of that sack of salt, no one could havetold I was off the reservation; but there it was under my arm. If everI make another trip over the trail, and touch at Kansas City returning, I'll hunt up that cattle salesman, for he's the only man I ever met thatcan pace in my class. "

"Did you hear that tree break a few minutes ago?" inquired Mr. Nathan. "There goes another one. It hardly looks possible that enough pigeonscould settle on a tree to break it down. Honestly, I'd give a purty toknow how many birds are in that roost to-night. More than there arecattle in Texas, I'll bet. Why, Hugh killed, with both barrels, twenty-two at one shot. "

We had brought blankets along, but it was early and no one thought ofsleeping for an hour yet. Mr. Nathan was quite a sportsman, and after heand Uncle Lance had discussed the safest method of hunting _javalina_, it again devolved on the boys to entertain the party with stories. 

"I was working on a ranch once, " said Glenn Gallup, "out on the ConchoRiver. It was a stag outfit, there being few women then out Concho way. One day two of the boys were riding in home when an accident occurred. They had been shooting more or less during the morning, and one of them, named Bill Cook, had carelessly left the hammer of his six-shooter on acartridge. As Bill jumped his horse over a dry _arroyo_, his pistolwas thrown from its holster, and, falling on the hard ground, wasdischarged. The bullet struck him in the ankle, ranged upward, shattering the large bone in his leg into fragments, and finally lodgedin the saddle. 

"They were about five miles from camp when the accident happened. Afterthey realized how bad he was hurt, Bill remounted his horse and rodenearly a mile; but the wound bled so then that the fellow with himinsisted on his getting off and lying on the ground while he went intothe ranch for a wagon. Well, it's to be supposed that he lost no timeriding in, and I was sent to San Angelo for a doctor. It was justnoon when I got off. I had to ride thirty miles. Talk about your goodhorses--I had one that day. I took a free gait from the start, but thelast ten miles was the fastest, for I covered the entire distance inless than three hours. There was a doctor in the town who'd been on thefrontier all of his life, and was used to such calls. Well, before darkthat evening we drove into the ranch. 

"They had got the lad into the ranch, had checked the flow of blood andeased the pain by standing on a chair and pouring water on the woundfrom a height. But Bill looked pale as a ghost from the loss of blood. The doctor gave the leg a single look, and, turning to us, said: 'Boys, she has to come off. '

"The doctor talked to Bill freely and frankly, telling him that it wasthe only chance for his life. He readily consented to the operation, andwhile the doctor was getting him under the influence of opiates we fixedup an operating table. When all was ready, the doctor took the leg offbelow the knee, cursing us generally for being so sensitive to cuttingand the sight of blood. There was quite a number of boys at the ranch, but it affected them all alike. It was interesting to watch him cut andtie arteries and saw the bones, and I think I stood it better than anyof them. When the operation was over, we gave the fellow the best bedthe ranch afforded and fixed him up comfortable. The doctor took thebloody stump and wrapped it up in an old newspaper, saying he would takeit home with him. 

"After supper the surgeon took a sleep, saying we would start back totown by two o'clock, so as to be there by daylight. He gave instructionsto call him in case Bill awoke, but he hoped the boy would take a goodsleep. As I had left my horse in town, I was expected to go back withhim. Shortly after midnight the fellow awoke, so we aroused the doctor, who reported him doing well. The old Doc sat by his bed for an hour andtold him all kinds of stories. He had been a surgeon in the Confederatearmy, and from the drift of his talk you'd think it was impossible tokill a man without cutting off his head. 

"'Now take a young fellow like you, ' said the doctor to his patient, 'if he was all shot to pieces, just so the parts would hang together, Icould fix him up and he would get well. You have no idea, son, how muchlead a young man can carry. ' We had coffee and lunch before starting, the doctor promising to send me back at once with necessary medicines. 

"We had a very pleasant trip driving back to town that night. Thestories he could tell were like a song with ninety verses, no two alike. It was hardly daybreak when we reached San Angelo, rustled out a sleepyhostler at the livery stable where the team belonged, and had the horsescared for; and as we left the stable the doctor gave me his instrumentcase, while he carried the amputated leg in the paper. We both felt theneed of a bracer after our night's ride, so we looked around to see ifany saloons were open. There was only one that showed any signs of life, and we headed for that. The doctor was in the lead as we entered, andwe both knew the barkeeper well. This barkeeper was a practical jokerhimself, and he and the doctor were great hunting companions. We walkedup to the bar together, when the doctor laid the package on the counterand asked: 'Is this good for two drinks?' The barkeeper, with a lookof expectation in his face as if the package might contain half a dozenquail or some fresh fish, broke the string and unrolled it. Without aword he walked straight from behind the bar and out of the house. If hehad been shot himself he couldn't have looked whiter. 

"The doctor went behind the bar and said: 'Glenn, what are you going totake?' 'Let her come straight, doctor, ' was my reply, and we both tookthe same. We had the house all to ourselves, and after a second roundof drinks took our leave. As we left by the front door, we saw thebarkeeper leaning against a hitching post half a block below. The doctorcalled to him as we were leaving: 'Billy, if the drinks ain't on you, charge them to me. '"

The moon was just rising, and at Uncle Lance's suggestion we eachcarried in a turn of wood. Piling a portion of it on the fire, the blazesoon lighted up the camp, throwing shafts of light far into the recessesof the woods around us. "In another hour, " said Uncle Lance, recoalingthe oven lids, "that smaller pie will be all ready to serve, but we'llkeep the big one for breakfast. So, boys, if you want to sit up awhilelonger, we'll have a midnight lunch, and then all turn in for aboutforty winks. " As the oven lid was removed from time to time to takenote of the baking, savory odors of the pie were wafted to our anxiousnostrils. On the intimation that one oven would be ready in an hour, nota man suggested blankets, and, taking advantage of the lull, TheodoreQuayle claimed attention. 

"Another fellow and myself, " said Quayle, "were knocking around FortWorth one time seeing the sights. We had drunk until it didn't tasteright any longer. This chum of mine was queer in his drinking. If heever got enough once, he didn't want any more for several days: youcould cure him by offering him plenty. But with just the right amount onboard, he was a hail fellow. He was a big, ambling, awkward cuss, whocould be led into anything on a hint or suggestion. We had been knockingaround the town for a week, until there was nothing new to be seen. 

"Several times as we passed a millinery shop, kept by a little blonde, we had seen her standing at the door. Something--it might have beenhis ambling walk, but, anyway, something--about my chum amused her, for she smiled and watched him as we passed. He never could walk alongbeside you for any distance, but would trail behind and look into thewindows. He could not be hurried--not in town. I mentioned to him thathe had made a mash on the little blond milliner, and he at onceinsisted that I should show her to him. We passed down on the oppositeside of the street and I pointed out the place. Then we walked by severaltimes, and finally passed when she was standing in the doorway talkingto some customers. As we came up he straightened himself, caught her eye, and tipped his hat with the politeness of a dancing master. She blushedto the roots of her hair, and he walked on very erect some littledistance, then we turned a corner and held a confab. He was for playingthe whole string, discount or no discount, anyway. 

"An excuse to go in was wanting, but we thought we could invent one;however, he needed a drink or two to facilitate his thinking and loosenhis tongue. To get them was easier than the excuse; but with the drinksthe motive was born. 'You wait here, ' said he to me, 'until I go roundto the livery stable and get my coat off my saddle. ' He never encumberedhimself with extra clothing. We had not seen our horses, saddles, orany of our belongings during the week of our visit. When he returned heinquired, 'Do I need a shave?'

"'Oh, no, ' I said, 'you need no shave. You may have a drink too many, or lack one of having enough. It's hard to make a close calculation onyou. '

"'Then I'm all ready, ' said he, 'for I've just the right gauge ofsteam. ' He led the way as we entered. It was getting dark and the shopwas empty of customers. Where he ever got the manners, heaven onlyknows. Once inside the door we halted, and she kept a counter between usas she approached. She ought to have called the police and had us runin. She was probably scared, but her voice was fairly steady as shespoke. 'Gentlemen, what can I do for you?'

"'My friend here, ' said he, with a bow and a wave of the hand, 'wasunfortunate enough to lose a wager made between us. The terms of thebet were that the loser was to buy a new hat for one of the dining-roomgirls at our hotel. As we are leaving town to-morrow, we have justdropped in to see if you have anything suitable. We are both totallyincompetent to decide on such a delicate matter, but we will trustentirely to your judgment in the selection. ' The milliner was quitecollected by this time, as she asked: 'Any particular style?--and aboutwhat price?'

"'The price is immaterial, ' said he disdainfully. 'Any man who willwager on the average weight of a train-load of cattle, his own cattle, mind you, and miss them twenty pounds, ought to pay for his lack ofjudgment. Don't you think so, Miss--er--er. Excuse me for being unableto call your name--but--but--' 'De Ment is my name, ' said she with somelittle embarrassment. 

"'Livingstone is mine, ' said he with a profound bow, ' and this gentlemanis Mr. Ochiltree, youngest brother of Congressman Tom. Now regarding thestyle, we will depend entirely upon your selection. But possibly theloser is entitled to some choice in the matter. Mr. Ochiltree, have youany preference in regard to style?'

"'Why, no, I can generally tell whether a hat becomes a lady or not, butas to selecting one I am at sea. We had better depend on Miss De Ment'sjudgment. Still, I always like an abundance of flowers on a lady's hat. Whenever a girl walks down the street ahead of me, I like to watch theposies, grass, and buds on her hat wave and nod with the motion of herwalk. Miss De Ment, don't you agree with me that an abundance of flowersbecomes a young lady? And this girl can't be over twenty. '

"'Well, now, ' said she, going into matters in earnest, 'I can scarcelyadvise you. Is the young lady a brunette or blonde?'

"'What difference does that make?' he innocently asked. 

"'Oh, ' said she, smiling, 'we must harmonize colors. What would suit onecomplexion would not become another. What color is her hair?'

"'Nearly the color of yours, ' said he. 'Not so heavy and lacks thenatural wave which yours has--but she's all right. She can ride a stringof my horses until they all have sore backs. I tell you she is a cutetrick. But, say, Miss De Ment, what do you think of a green hat, broadbrimmed, turned up behind and on one side, long black feathers run roundand turned up behind, with a blue bird on the other side swooping downlike a pigeon hawk, long tail feathers and an arrow in its beak? Thatstrikes me as about the mustard. What do you think of that kind of ahat, dear?'

"'Why, sir, the colors don't harmonize, ' she replied, blushing. 

"'Theodore, do you know anything about this harmony of colors? Excuseme, madam, --and I crave your pardon, Mr. Ochiltree, for using your givenname, --but really this harmony of colors is all French to me. '

"'Well, if the young lady is in town, why can't you have her drop inand make her own selection?' suggested the blond milliner. He studied amoment, and then awoke as if from a trance. 'Just as easy as not; thisvery evening or in the morning. Strange we didn't think of that sooner. Yes; the landlady of the hotel can join us, and we can count on yourassistance in selecting the hat. ' With a number of comments on herattractive place, inquiries regarding trade, and a flattering complimenton having made such a charming acquaintance, we edged towards the door. 'This evening then, or in the morning at the farthest, you may expectanother call, when my friend must pay the penalty of his folly bysettling the bill. Put it on heavy. ' And he gave her a parting wink. 

"Together we bowed ourselves out, and once safe in the street he said:'Didn't she help us out of that easy? If she wasn't a blonde, I'd goback and buy her two hats for suggesting it as she did. '

"'Rather good looking too, ' I remarked. 

"'Oh, well, that's a matter of taste. I like people with red blood inthem. Now if you was to saw her arm off, it wouldn't bleed; just alittle white water might ooze out, possibly. The best-looking girl Iever saw was down in the lower Rio Grande country, and she was milkinga goat. Theodore, my dear fellow, when I'm led blushingly to the altar, you'll be proud of my choice. I'm a judge of beauty. '"

It was after midnight when we disposed of the first oven of pigeonpot-pie, and, wrapping ourselves in blankets, lay down around the fire. With the first sign of dawn, we were aroused by Mr. Nathan and UncleLance to witness the return flight of the birds to their feedinggrounds. Hurrying to the nearest opening, we saw the immense flight ofpigeons blackening the sky overhead. Stiffened by their night's rest, they flew low; but the beauty and immensity of the flight overawed us, and we stood in mute admiration, no one firing a shot. For fully ahalf-hour the flight continued, ending in a few scattering birds. 

CHAPTER VI

SPRING OF '76

The spring of '76 was eventful at Las Palomas. After the pigeon hunt, Uncle Lance went to San Antonio to sell cattle for spring delivery. Meanwhile, Father Norquin visited the ranch and spent a few days amonghis parishioners, Miss Jean acting the hostess in behalf of Las Palomas. The priest proved a congenial fellow of the cloth, and among us, withMiss Jean's countenance, it was decided not to delay Enrique's marriage;for there was no telling when Uncle Lance would return. All thearrangements were made by the padre and Miss Jean, the groom-to-beapparently playing a minor part in the preliminaries. Though none of thewhite element of the ranch were communicants of his church, the priestapparently enjoyed the visit. At parting, the mistress pressed a goldpiece into his chubby palm as the marriage fee for Enrique; and, afternaming a day for the ceremony, the padre mounted his horse and left usfor the Tarancalous, showering his blessings on Las Palomas and itspeople. 

During the intervening days before the wedding, we overhauled an unused_jacal_ and made it habitable for the bride and groom. The _jacal_ is acrude structure of this semi-tropical country, containing but a singleroom with a shady, protecting stoop. It is constructed by standingpalisades on end in a trench. These constitute the walls. The floor isearthen, while the roof is thatched with the wild grass which grows rankin the overflow portions of the river valley. It forms a serviceableshelter for a warm country, the peculiar roofing equally defying rainand the sun's heat. Under the leadership of the mistress of the ranch, assisted by the Mexican women, the _jacal_ was transformed into a rusticbower; for Enrique was not only a favorite among the whites, but alsoamong his own people. A few gaudy pictures of Saints and the Madonnaornamented the side walls, while in the rear hung the necessarycrucifix. At the time of its building the _jacal_ had been blessed, aswas customary before occupancy, and to Enrique's reasoning the potencyof the former sprinkling still held good. 

Weddings were momentous occasions among the Mexican population at LasPalomas. In outfitting the party to attend Enrique's wedding at SantaMaria, the ranch came to a standstill. Not only the regular ambulancebut a second conveyance was required to transport the numerous femalerelatives of the groom, while the men, all in gala attire, were mountedon the best horses on the ranch. As none of the whites attended, Deweese charged Tiburcio with humanity to the stock, while the mistressadmonished every one to be on his good behavior. With greetings to SantaMaria, the wedding party set out. They were expected to return thefollowing evening, and the ranch was set in order to give the bride arousing reception on her arrival at Las Palomas. The largest place onthe ranch was a warehouse, and we shifted its contents in such a manneras to have quite a commodious ball-room. The most notable decorationof the room was an immense heart-shaped figure, in which was worked inlive-oak leaves the names of the two ranches, flanked on either sidewith the American and Mexican flags. Numerous other decorations, expressing welcome to the bride, were in evidence on every hand. Tallowwas plentiful at Las Palomas, and candles were fastened at everypossible projection. 

The mounted members of the wedding party returned near the middle ofthe afternoon. According to reports, Santa Maria had treated them mosthospitably. The marriage was simple, but the festivities following hadlasted until dawn. The returning guests sought their _jacals_ to snatcha few hours' sleep before the revelry would be resumed at Las Palomas. An hour before sunset the four-mule ambulance bearing the bride andgroom drove into Las Palomas with a flourish. Before leaving the bridalcouple at their own _jacal_, Tiburcio halted the ambulance in front ofthe ranch-house for the formal welcome. In the absence of her brother, Miss Jean officiated in behalf of Las Palomas, tenderly caressing thebride. The boys monopolized her with their congratulations and welcome, which delighted Enrique. As for the bride, she seemed at home from thefirst, soon recognizing me as the _padrino segundo_ at the time of herbetrothal. 

Quite a delegation of the bride's friends from Santa Maria accompaniedthe party on their return, from whom were chosen part of the musiciansfor the evening--violins and guitars in the hands of the native elementof the two ranches making up a pastoral orchestra. I volunteered myservices; but so much of the music was new to me that I frequentlyexcused myself for a dance with the senoritas. In the absence of UncleLance, our _segundo_, June Deweese, claimed the first dance of theevening with the bride. Miss Jean lent only the approval of herpresence, not participating, and withdrawing at an early hour. As allthe American element present spoke Spanish slightly, that became thelanguage of the evening. But, further than to countenance with ourpresence the festivities, we were out of place, and, ere midnight, allhad excused themselves with the exception of Aaron Scales and myself. Onthe pleadings of Enrique, I remained an hour or two longer, dancing withhis bride, or playing some favorite selection for the delighted groom. 

Several days after the wedding Uncle Lance returned. He had beensuccessful in contracting a trail herd of thirty-five hundred cattle, and a _remuda_ of one hundred and twenty-five saddle horses with whichto handle them. The contract called for two thousand two-year-old steersand fifteen hundred threes. There was a difference of four dollars ahead in favor of the older cattle, and it was the ranchero's intentionto fill the latter class entirely from the Las Palomas brand. As to theyounger cattle, neighboring ranches would be invited to deliver twosin filling the contract, and if any were lacking, the home ranch wouldsupply the deficiency. Having ample range, the difference in price wasan inducement to hold the younger cattle. To keep a steer another yearcost nothing, while the ranchero returned convinced that the trail mightsoon furnish an outlet for all surplus cattle. In the matter of thehorses, too, rather than reduce our supply of saddle stock below theactual needs of the ranch, Uncle Lance concluded to buy fifty head inmaking up the _remuda_. There were several hundred geldings on the ranchold enough for saddle purposes, but they would be as good as useless inhandling cattle the first year after breaking. 

As this would be the first trail herd from Las Palomas, we naturallyfelt no small pride in the transaction. According to contract, everything was to be ready for final delivery on the twenty-fifth ofMarch. The contractors, Camp & Dupree, of Fort Worth, Texas, were tosend their foreman two weeks in advance to receive, classify, and passupon the cattle and saddle stock. They were exacting in their demands, yet humane and reasonable. In making up the herd no cattle were to becorralled at night, and no animal would be received which had beenroped. The saddle horses were to be treated likewise. These conditionswould put into the saddle every available man on the ranch as well as onthe ranchitas. But we looked eagerly forward to the putting up of theherd. Letters were written and dispatched to a dozen ranches withinstriking distance, inviting them to turn in two-year-old steers at thefull contract price. June Deweese was sent out to buy fifty saddlehorses, which would fill the required standard, "fourteen hands orbetter, serviceable and gentle broken. " I was dispatched to Santa Maria, to invite Don Mateo Gonzales to participate in the contract. The rangeof every saddle horse on the ranch was located, so that we could gatherthem, when wanted, in a day. Less than a month's time now remainedbefore the delivery day, though we did not expect to go into camp foractual gathering until the arrival of the trail foreman. 

In going and returning from San Antonio my employer had traveled bystage. As it happened, the driver of the up-stage out of Oakville wasJack Martin, the son-in-law of Mrs. McLeod. He and Uncle Lance beingacquainted, the old ranchero's matchmaking instincts had, during theday's travel, again forged to the front. By roundabout inquiries he hadelicited the information that Mrs. McLeod had, immediately after theholidays, taken Esther to San Antonio and placed her in school. Byinnocent artful suggestions of his interest in the welfare of thefamily, he learned the name of the private school of which Esther was apupil. Furthermore, he cultivated the good will of the driver in variousways over good cigars, and at parting assured him on returning he wouldtake the stage so as to have the pleasure of his company on the returntrip--the highest compliment that could be paid a stage-driver. 

From several sources I had learned that Esther had left the ranch forthe city, but on Uncle Lance's return I got the full particulars. Asa neighboring ranchman, and bearing self-invented messages fromthe family, he had the assurance to call at the school. His honestcountenance was a passport anywhere, and he not only saw Esther butprevailed on her teachers to give the girl, some time during his visitin the city, a half holiday. The interest he manifested in the girl wonhis request, and the two had spent an afternoon visiting the parks andother points of interest. It is needless to add that he made hay in mybehalf during this half holiday. But the most encouraging fact that heunearthed was that Esther was disgusted with her school life and washomesick. She had declared that if she ever got away from school, nopower on earth could force her back again. 

"Shucks, Tom, " said he, the next morning after his return, as we weresitting in the shade of the corrals waiting for the _remuda_ to come in, "that poor little country girl might as well be in a penitentiary as inthat school. She belongs on these prairies, and you can't make anythingelse out of her. I can read between the lines, and any one can see thather education is finished. When she told me how rudely her mother hadtreated you, her heart was an open book and easily read. Don't you loseany sleep on how you stand in her affections--that's all serene. She'llhe home on a spring vacation, and that'll be your chance. If I was yourage, I'd make it a point to see that she didn't go back to school. She'll run off with you rather than that. In the game of matrimony, son, you want to play your cards boldly and never hesitate to lead trumps. "

To further matters, when returning by stage my employer had ingratiatedhimself into the favor of the driver in many ways, and urged him to sendword to Mrs. McLeod to turn in her two-year-olds on his contract. A fewdays later her foreman and son-in-law, Tony Hunter, rode down to LasPalomas, anxious for the chance to turn in cattle. There had been littleopportunity for several years to sell steers, and when a chance likethis came, there would have been no trouble to fill half a dozencontracts, as supply far exceeded demand. 

Uncle Lance let Mrs. McLeod's foreman feel that in allotting her fivehundred of the younger cattle, he was actuated by old-time friendshipfor the family. As a mark of special consideration he promised to sendthe trail foreman to the San Miguel to pass on the cattle on their homerange, but advised the foreman to gather at least seven hundred steers, allowing for two hundred to be culled or cut back. Hunter remained overnight, departing the next morning, delighted over his allowance ofcattle and the liberal terms of the contract. 

It was understood that, in advance of his outfit, the trail foremanwould come down by stage, and I was sent into Oakville with an extrasaddle horse to meet him. He had arrived the day previous, and we lostno time in starting for Las Palomas. This trail foreman was about thirtyyears of age, a quiet red-headed fellow, giving the name of FrankNancrede, and before we had covered half the distance to the ranch I wassatisfied that he was a cowman. I always prided myself on possessing agood eye for brands, but he outclassed me, reading strange brands atover a hundred yards, and distinguishing cattle from horse stock at adistance of three miles. '

We got fairly well acquainted before reaching the ranch, but it wasimpossible to start him on any subject save cattle. I was able to givehim a very good idea of the _remuda_, which was then under herd andwaiting his approval, and I saw the man brighten into a smile for thefirst time on my offering to help him pick out a good mount for his ownsaddle. I had a vague idea of what the trail was like, and felt theusual boyish attraction for it; but when I tried to draw him out inregard to it, he advised me, if I had a regular job on a ranch, to lettrail work alone. 

We reached the ranch late in the evening and I introduced Nancrede toUncle Lance, who took charge of him. We had established a horse camp forthe trail _remuda_, north of the river, and the next morning the trailforeman, my employer, and June Deweese, rode over to pass on thesaddle stock. The _remuda_ pleased him, being fully up to the contractstandard, and he accepted it with but a single exception. This exceptiontickled Uncle Lance, as it gave him an opportunity to annoy his sisterabout Nancrede, as he did about every other cowman or drover who visitedthe ranch. That evening, as I was chatting with Miss Jean, who wassuperintending the Mexican help milking at the cow pen, Uncle Lancejoined us. 

"Say, Sis, " said he, "our man Nancrede is a cowman all right. I tried toring in a 'hipped' horse on him this morning, --one hip knocked down justthe least little bit, --but he noticed it and refused to accept him. Oh, he's got an eye in his head all right. So if you say so, I'll give himthe best horse on the ranch in old Hippy's place. You're always makingfun of slab-sided cowmen; he's pony-built enough to suit you, and I kindo' like the color of his hair myself. Did you notice his neck?--he'llnever tie it if it gets broken. I like a short man; if he stubs his toeand falls down he doesn't reach halfway home. Now, if he has as good cowsense in receiving the herd as he had on the _remuda_, I'd kind o' liketo have him for a brother-in-law. I'm getting a little too old foractive work and would like to retire, but June, the durn fool, won't getmarried, and about the only show I've got is to get a husband for you. I'd as lief live in Hades as on a ranch without a woman on it. What doyou think of him?"

"Why, I think he's an awful nice fellow, but he won't talk. And besides, I'm not baiting my hook for small fish like trail foremen; I was aimingto keep my smiles for the contractors. Aren't they coming down?"

"Well, they might come to look the herd over before it starts out. Now, Dupree is a good cowman, but he's got a wife already. And Camp, thefinancial man of the firm, made his money peddling Yankee clocks. Now, you don't suppose for a moment I'd let you marry him and carry you awayfrom Las Palomas. Marry an old clock peddler?--not if he had a million!The idea! If they come down here and I catch you smiling on old Camp, I'll set the hounds on you. What you want to do is to set your cap forNancrede. Of course, you're ten years the elder, but that needn't cutany figure. So just burn a few smiles on the red-headed trail foreman!You know you can count on your loving brother to help all he can. "

The conversation was interrupted by our _segundo_ and the trail foremanriding up to the cow pen. The two had been up the river during theafternoon, looking over the cattle on the range, for as yet we hadnot commenced gathering. Nancrede was very reticent, discovering aconspicuous lack of words to express his opinion of what cattle Deweesehad shown him. 

The second day after the arrival of the trail foreman, we divided ourforces into two squads and started out to gather our three-year-olds. Bythe ranch records, there were over two thousand steers of that age inthe Las Palomas brand. Deweese took ten men and half of the ranch saddlehorses and went up above the mouth of the Ganso to begin gathering. Uncle Lance took the remainder of the men and horses and went down theriver nearly to Shepherd's, leaving Dan Happersett and three Mexicans tohold and night-herd the trail _remuda. _ Nancrede declined to stay at theranch and so joined our outfit on the down-river trip. We had postponedthe gathering until the last hour, for every day improved the growinggrass on which our mounts must depend for subsistence, and once westarted, there would be little rest for men or horses. 

The younger cattle for the herd were made up within a week after theinvitations were sent to the neighboring ranches. Naturally they wouldbe the last cattle to be received and would come in for delivery betweenthe twentieth and the last of the month. With the plans thus outlined, we started our gathering. Counting Nancrede, we had twelve men in thesaddle in our down-river outfit. Taking nothing but three-year-olds, wedid not accumulate cattle fast; but it was continuous work, every man, with the exception of Uncle Lance, standing a guard on night-herd. Thefirst two days we only gathered about five hundred steers. This numberwas increased by about three hundred on the third day, and thatevening Dan Happersett with a vaquero rode into camp and reported thatNancrede's outfit had arrived from San Antonio. He had turned the_remuda_ over to them on their arrival, sending the other two Mexicansto join Deweese above on the river. 

The fourth day finished the gathering. Nancrede remained with us to thelast, making a hand which left no doubt in any one's mind that he wasa cowman from the ground up. The last round-up on the afternoon of thefourth day, our outriders sighted the vaqueros from Deweese's outfit, circling and drifting in the cattle on their half of the circle. Thenext morning the two camps were thrown together on the river oppositethe ranch. Deweese had fully as many cattle as we had, and when the twocuts had been united and counted, we lacked but five head of nineteenhundred. Several of Nancrede's men joined us that morning, and within anhour, under the trail foreman's directions, we cut back the overplus, and the cattle were accepted. 

Under the contract we were to road-brand them, though Nancrede orderedhis men to assist us in the work. Under ordinary circumstances we shouldalso have vented the ranch brand, but owing to the fact that this herdwas to be trailed to Abilene, Kansas, and possibly sold beyond thatpoint, it was unnecessary and therefore omitted. We had a branding chuteon the ranch for grown cattle, and the following morning the herd wascorralled and the road-branding commenced. The cattle were uniform insize, and the stamping of the figure '4' over the holding "Lazy L"of Las Palomas, moved like clockwork. With a daybreak start and anabundance of help the last animal was ironed up before sundown. As afavor to Nancrede's outfit, their camp being nearly five miles distant, we held them the first night after branding. 

No sooner had the trail foreman accepted our three-year-olds than he andGlen Gallup set out for the McLeod ranch on the San Miguel. The day ourbranding was finished, the two returned near midnight, reported the SanMiguel cattle accepted and due the next evening at Las Palomas. By dawnNancrede and myself started for Santa Maria, the former being deficientin Spanish, the only weak point, if it was one, in his make-up as acowman. We were slightly disappointed in not finding the cattle ready topass upon at Santa Maria. That ranch was to deliver seven hundred, andon our arrival they had not even that number under herd. Don Mateo, aneasy-going ranchero, could not understand the necessity of such haste. What did it matter if the cattle were delivered on the twenty-fifth ortwenty-seventh? But I explained as delicately as I could that this wasa trail man, whose vocabulary did not contain _maņana_. In interpretingfor Nancrede, I learned something of the trail myself: that a herdshould start with the grass and move with it, keeping the freshness ofspring, day after day and week after week, as they trailed northward. The trail foreman assured Don Mateo that had his employers known thatthis was to be such an early spring, the herd would have started a weeksooner. 

By impressing on the ranchero the importance of not delaying this trailman, we got him to inject a little action into his corporal. We askedDon Mateo for horses and, joining his outfit, made three rodeos thatafternoon, turning into the cattle under herd nearly two hundred andfifty head by dark that evening. Nancrede spent a restless night, and atdawn, as the cattle were leaving the bed ground, he and I got an easycount on them and culled them down to the required number beforebreakfasting. We had some little trouble explaining to Don Mateo thenecessity of giving the bill of sale to my employer, who, in turn, wouldreconvey the stock to the contractors. Once the matter was made clear, the accepted cattle were started for Las Palomas. When we overtook theman hour afterward, I instructed the corporal, at the instance of thered-headed foreman, to take a day and a half in reaching the ranch; thattardiness in gathering must not be made up by a hasty drive to the pointof delivery; that the animals must be treated humanely. 

On reaching the ranch we found that Mr. Booth and some of his neighborshad arrived from the Frio with their contingent. They had been allottedsix hundred head, and had brought down about two hundred extra cattlein order to allow some choice in accepting. These were the only mixedbrands that came in on the delivery, and after they had been culled downand accepted, my employer appointed Aaron Scales as clerk. There weresome five or six owners, and Scales must catch the brands as they werefreed from the branding chute. Several of the owners kept a privatetally, but not once did they have occasion to check up the Marylander'sdecisions. Before the branding of this hunch was finished, Wilson, fromRamirena, rode into the ranch and announced his cattle within five milesof Las Palomas. As these were the last two hundred to be passed upon, Nancrede asked to have them in sight of the ranch by sun-up in themorning. 

On the arrival of the trail outfit from San Antonio, they brought aletter from the contractors, asking that a conveyance meet them atOakville, as they wished to see the herd before it started. Tiburciowent in with the ambulance to meet them, and they reached the ranch lateat night. On their arrival twenty-six hundred of the cattle had alreadybeen passed upon, branded, and were then being held by Nancrede's outfitacross the river at their camp. Dupree, being a practical cowman, understood the situation; but Camp was restless and uneasy as if heexpected to find the cattle in the corrals at the ranch. Camp was yearsthe older of the two, a pudgy man with a florid complexion and nasaltwang, and kept the junior member busy answering his questions. UncleLance enjoyed the situation, jollying his sister about the eldercontractor and quietly inquiring of the red-haired foreman how and whereDupree had picked him up. 

The contractors had brought no saddles with them, so the ambulance wasthe only mode of travel. As we rode out to receive the Wilson cattlethe next morning, Uncle Lance took advantage of the occasion to jollyNancrede further about the senior member of the firm, the foremansmiling appreciatingly. "The way your old man talked last night, " saidhe, "you'd think he expected to find the herd in the front yard. Toobad to disappoint him; for then he could have looked them over with alantern from the gallery of the house. Now, if they had been Yankeeclocks instead of cattle, why, he'd been right at home, and could havetaken them in the house and handled them easily. It certainly beats thedickens why some men want to break into the cattle business. It won'tsurprise me if he asks you to trail the herd past the ranch so he cansee them. Well, you and Dupree will have to make him some _dinero_ thissummer or you will lose him for a partner. I can see that sticking out. "

We received and branded the two hundred Wilson cattle that forenoon, sending them to the main herd across the river. Mr. Wilson and UncleLance were great cronies, and as the latter was feeling in fine fettleover the successful fulfillment of his contract, he was tempted also tojolly his neighbor ranchero over his cattle, which, by the way, werefine. "Nate, " said he to Mr. Wilson, "it looks like you'd quit breedinggoats and rear cattle instead. Honest, if I didn't know your brand, I'dswear some Mexican raised this bunch. These Fort Worth cowmen are aneasy lot, or yours would never have passed under the classification. "

An hour before noon, Tomas Martines, the corporal of Santa Maria, rodeup to inquire what time we wished his cattle at the corrals. They wereback several miles, and he could deliver them on an hour's notice. Oneo'clock was agreed upon, and, never dismounting, the corporal gallopedaway to his herd. "Quirk, " said Nancrede to me, noticing the Mexican'sunaccustomed air of enterprise, "if we had that fellow under us awhilewe'd make a cow-hand out of him. See the wiggle he gets on himself now, will you?" Promptly at the hour, the herd were counted and corralled, Don Mateo Gonzales not troubling to appear, which was mystifying to theNorth Texas men, but Uncle Lance explained that a mere incident likeselling seven hundred cattle was not sufficient occasion to arouse theranchero of Santa Maria when his corporal could attend to the business. 

That evening saw the last of the cattle branded. The herd was completedand ready to start the following morning. The two contractors weredriven across the river during the afternoon to look over the herdand _remuda_. At the instance of my employer, I wrote a letter ofcongratulation to Don Mateo, handing it to his corporal, informing himthat in the course of ten days a check would he sent him in payment. Uncle Lance had fully investigated the financial standing of thecontractors, but it was necessary for him to return with them to SanAntonio for a final settlement. 

The ambulance made an early start for Oakville on the morning of thetwenty-sixth, carrying the contractors and my employer, and the restof us rode away to witness the start of the herd. Nancrede's outfitnumbered fifteen, --a cook, a horse wrangler, himself, and twelveoutriders. They comprised an odd mixture of men, several barely my age, while others were gray-haired and looked like veteran cow-hands. Onleaving the Nueces valley, the herd was strung out a mile in length, andafter riding with them until they reached the first hills, we bade themgood-by. As we started to return Frank Nancrede made a remark to JuneDeweese which I have often recalled: "You fellows may think this is asnap; but if I had a job on as good a ranch as Las Palomas, you'd nevercatch me on a cattle trail. "

CHAPTER VII

SAN JACINTO DAY

A few days later, when Uncle Lance returned from San Antonio, we had aconfidential talk, and he decided not to send me with the McLeod checkto the San Miguel. He had reasons of his own, and I was dispatched tothe Frio instead, while to Enrique fell the pleasant task of a similarerrand to Santa Maria. In order to grind an axe, Glenn Gallup was sentdown to Wilson's with the settlement for the Ramirena cattle, whichUncle Lance made the occasion of a jovial expression of his theory oflove-making. "Don't waste any words with old man Nate, " said he, as hehanded Glenn the check; "but build right up to Miss Jule. Holy snakes, boy, if I was your age I would make her dizzy with a big talk. Tellher you're thinking of quitting Las Palomas and driving a trail herdyourself next year. Tell it big and scary. Make her eyes fairly bulgeout, and when you can't think of anything else, tell her she's pretty. "

I spent a day or two at the Booth ranch, and on my return found the LasPalomas outfit in the saddle working our horse stock. Yearly we made upnew _manadas_ from the two-year-old fillies. There were enough youngmares to form twelve bands of about twenty-five head each. In selectingthese we were governed by standard colors, bays, browns, grays, blacks, and sorrels forming separate _manadas, _ while all mongrel colors wentinto two bands by themselves. In the latter class there was a tendencyfor the colors of the old Spanish stock, --coyotes, and other hybridmixtures, --after being dormant for generations, to crop out again. Inbreaking these fillies into new bands, we added a stallion a year ortwo older and of acceptable color, and they were placed in charge of atrusty vaquero, whose duty was to herd them for the first month afterbeing formed. The Mexican in charge usually took the band round thecircuit of the various ranchitas, corralling his charge at night, drifting at will, so that by the end of the month old associations wouldbe severed, and from that time the stallion could be depended on asherdsman. 

In gathering the fillies, we also cut out all the geldings three yearsold and upward to break for saddle purposes. There were fully twohundred of these, and the month of April was spent in saddle-breakingthis number. They were a fine lot of young horses, and under the mastereye of two perfect horsemen, our _segundo_ and employer, every horse wasbroken with intelligence and humanity. Since the day of their brandingas colts these geldings had never felt the touch of a human hand; and itrequired more than ordinary patience to overcome their fear, bring themto a condition of submission, and make serviceable ranch horses out ofthem. The most difficult matter was in overcoming their fear. It wasalso necessary to show the mastery of man over the animal, though thisprocess was tempered with humanity. We had several circular, sandycorrals into which the horse to be broken was admitted for the firstsaddling. As he ran round, a lasso skillfully thrown encircled his frontfeet and he came down on his side. One fore foot was strapped up, ahackamore or bitless bridle was adjusted in place, and he was allowedto arise. After this, all depended on the patience and firmness of thehandler. Some horses yielded to kind advances and accepted the saddlewithin half an hour, not even offering to pitch, while others repelledevery kindness and fought for hours. But in handling the gelding ofspirit, we could always count on the help of an extra saddler. 

While this work was being done, the herd of geldings was held close athand. After the first riding, four horses were the daily allowance ofeach rider. With the amount of help available, this allowed twelve tofifteen horses to the man, so that every animal was ridden once in threeor four days. Rather than corral, we night-herded, penning them by dawnand riding our first horse before sun-up. As they gradually yielded, weincreased our number to six a day and finally before the breakingwas over to eight. When the work was finally over they were cut into_remudas_ of fifty horses each, furnished a gentle bell mare, whenpossible with a young colt by her side, and were turned over to asimilar treatment as was given the fillies in forming _manadas. _ Thusthe different _remudas_ at Las Palomas always took the name of the bellmare, and when we were at work, it was only necessary for us to hobblethe princess at night to insure the presence of her band in the morning. 

When this month's work was two thirds over, we enjoyed a holiday. Allgood Texans, whether by birth or adoption, celebrate the twenty-first ofApril, --San Jacinto Day. National holidays may not always he observedin sparsely settled communities, but this event will remain a greatanniversary until the sons and daughters of the Lone Star State losetheir patriotism or forget the blessings of liberty. As Shepherd's Ferrywas centrally located, it became by common consent the meeting-point forour local celebration. Residents from the Frio and San Miguel and as farsouth on the home river as Lagarto, including the villagers of Oakville, usually lent their presence on this occasion. The white element of LasPalomas was present without an exception. As usual, Miss Jean went byambulance, starting the afternoon before and spending the night at aranch above the ferry. Those remaining made a daybreak start, reachingShepherd's by ten in the morning. 

While on the way from the ranch to the ferry, I was visited with somemisgivings as to whether Esther McLeod had yet returned from SanAntonio. At the delivery of San Miguel's cattle at Las Palomas, MissJean had been very attentive to Tony Hunter, Esther's brother-in-law, and through him she learned that Esther's school closed for the summervacation on the fifteenth of April, and that within a week afterward shewas expected at home. Shortly after our reaching the ferry, a numberof vehicles drove in from Oakville. One of these conveyances was anelaborate six-horse stage, owned by Bethel & Oxenford, star route mailcontractors between San Antonio and Brownsville, Texas. Seated by youngOxenford's side in the driver's box sat Esther McLeod, while inside thecoach was her sister, Mrs. Martin, with the senior member of the firm, his wife, and several other invited guests. I had heard something of thegallantry of young Jack Oxenford, who was the nephew of a carpet-bagmember of Congress, and prided himself on being the best whip in thecountry. In the latter field I would gladly have yielded him all honors, but his attentions to Esther were altogether too marked to please eitherme or my employer. I am free to admit that I was troubled by this turnof affairs. The junior mail contractor made up in egotism what he lackedin appearance, and no doubt had money to burn, as star route mailcontracting was profitable those days, while I had nothing but mymonthly wages. To make matters more embarrassing, a blind man could haveread Mrs. Martin's approval of young Oxenford. 

The programme for the forenoon was brief--a few patriotic songs and anoration by a young lawyer who had come up from Corpus Christi for theoccasion. After listening to the opening song, my employer and I tooka stroll down by the river, as we were too absorbed in the newcomplications to pay proper attention to the young orator. 

"Tom, " said Uncle Lance, as we strolled away from the grove, "we are upagainst the real thing now. I know young Oxenford, and he's a dangerousfellow to have for a rival, if he really is one. You can't tell muchabout a Yankee, though, for he's usually egotistical enough to thinkthat every girl in the country is breaking her neck to win him. Theworst of it is, this young fellow is rich--he's got dead oodles of moneyand he's making more every hour out of his mail contracts. One goodthing is, we understand the situation, and all's fair in love and war. You can see, though, that Mrs. Martin has dealt herself a hand in thegame. By the dough on her fingers she proposes to have a fist in thepie. Well, now, son, we'll give them a run for their money or break atug in the effort. Tom, just you play to my lead to-day and we'll seewho holds the high cards or knows best how to play them. If I can cuthim off, that'll be your chance to sail in and do a little close-herdingyourself. "

We loitered along the river bank until the oration was concluded, myemployer giving me quite an interesting account of my rival. It seemsthat young Oxenford belonged to a family then notoriously prominentin politics. He had inherited quite a sum of money, and, through theinfluence of his congressional uncle, had been fortunate enough toform a partnership with Bethel, a man who knew all the ropes in mailcontracting. The senior member of the firm knew how to shake the tree, while the financial resources of the junior member and the politicalinfluence of his uncle made him a valuable man in gathering the plums ontheir large field of star route contracts. Had not exposure interrupted, they were due to have made a large fortune out of the government. 

On our return to the picnic grounds, the assembly was dispersing forluncheon. Miss Jean had ably provided for the occasion, and on reachingour ambulance on the outer edge of the grove, Tiburcio had coffee allready and the boys from the home ranch began to straggle in for dinner. Miss Jean had prevailed on Tony Hunter and his wife, who had come downon horseback from the San Miguel, to take luncheon with us, and from thehearty greetings which Uncle Lance extended to the guests of hissister, I could see that the owner and mistress of Las Palomas werediplomatically dividing the house of McLeod. I followed suit, makingmyself agreeable to Mrs. Hunter, who was but very few years the elder ofEsther. Having spent a couple of nights at their ranch, and feeling acertain comradeship with her husband, I decided before dinner wasover that I had a friend and ally in Tony's wife. There was somethingromantic about the young matron, as any one could see, and since thesisters favored each other in many ways, I had hopes that Esther mightnot overvalue Jack Oxenford's money. 

After luncheon, as we were on our way to the dancing arbor, we met theOakville party with Esther in tow. I was introduced to Mrs. Martin, who, in turn, made me acquainted with her friends, including her sister, perfectly unconscious that we were already more than mere acquaintances. From the demure manner of Esther, who accepted the introduction as amatter of course, I surmised she was concealing our acquaintance fromher sister and my rival. We had hardly reached the arbor before UncleLance created a diversion and interested the mail contractors with aglowing yarn about a fine lot of young mules he had at the ranch, largeenough for stage purposes. There was some doubt expressed by the stagemen as to their size and weight, when my employer invited them tothe outskirts of the grove, where he would show them a sample in ourambulance team. So he led them away, and I saw that the time had come toplay to my employer's lead. The music striking up, I claimed Esther forthe first dance, leaving Mrs. Martin, for the time being, in charge ofher sister and Miss Jean. Before the first waltz ended I caught sightof all three of the ladies mingling in the dance. It was a source of nosmall satisfaction to me to see my two best friends, Deweese and Gallup, dancing with the married sisters, while Miss Jean was giving her wholeattention to her partner, Tony Hunter. With the entire Las Palomas crowdpulling strings in my interest, and Father, in the absence of Oxenford, becoming extremely gracious, I grew bold and threw out my chest like thebrisket on a beef steer. 

I permitted no one to separate me from Esther. We started the seconddance together, but no sooner did I see her sister, Mrs. Martin, whirlby us in the polka with Dan Happersett, than I suggested that we dropout and take a stroll. She consented, and we were soon out of sight, wandering in a labyrinth of lover's lanes which abounded throughout thislive-oak grove. On reaching the outskirts of the picnic grounds, we cameto an extensive opening in which our saddle horses were picketed. Ata glance Esther recognized Wolf, the horse I had ridden the Christmasbefore when passing their ranch. Being a favorite saddle horse of theold ranchero, he was reserved for special occasions, and Uncle Lance hadridden him down to Shepherd's on this holiday. Like a bird freed from acage, the ranch girl took to the horses and insisted on a little ride. Since her proposal alone prevented my making a similar suggestion, I allowed myself to be won over, but came near getting caught inprotesting. "But you told me at the ranch that Wolf was one of ten inyour Las Palomas mount, " she poutingly protested. 

"He is, " I insisted, "but I have loaned him to Uncle Lance for the day. "

"Throw the saddle on him then--I'll tell Mr. Lovelace when we returnthat I borrowed his horse when he wasn't looking. "

Had she killed the horse, I felt sure that the apology would have beenaccepted; so, throwing saddles on the black and my own mount, we weresoon scampering down the river. The inconvenience of a man's saddle, orthe total absence of any, was a negligible incident to this daughter ofthe plains. A mile down the river, we halted and watered the horses. Then, crossing the stream, we spent about an hour circling slowly abouton the surrounding uplands, never being over a mile from the picnicgrounds. It was late for the first flora of the season, but there wasstill an abundance of blue bonnets. Dismounting, we gathered andwove wreaths for our horses' necks, and wandered picking the Mexicanstrawberries which grew plentifully on every hand. 

But this was all preliminary to the main question. When it came up fordiscussion, this one of Quirk's boys made the talk of his life in behalfof Thomas Moore. Nor was it in vain. When Esther apologized for therudeness her mother had shown me at her home, that afforded me theopening for which I was longing. We were sitting on a grassy hummock, weaving garlands, when I replied to the apology by declaring myintention of marrying her, with or without her mother's consent. Unconventional as the declaration was, to my surprise she showed neitheroffense nor wonderment. Dropping the flowers with which we were working, she avoided my gaze, and, turning slightly from me, began watching ourhorses, which had strayed away some distance. But I gave her littletime for meditation, and when I aroused her from her reverie, she rose, saying, "We'd better go back--they'll miss us if we stay too long. "

Before complying with her wish, I urged an answer; but she, artfullyavoiding my question, insisted on our immediate return. Being in aquandary as to what to say or do, I went after the horses, which was asimple proposition. On my return, while we were adjusting the garlandsabout the necks of our mounts, I again urged her for an answer, but invain. We stood for a moment between the two horses, and as I lowered myhand on my knee to afford her a stepping-stone in mounting, I thoughtshe did not offer to mount with the same alacrity as she had donebefore. Something flashed through my addled mind, and, withdrawing thehand proffered as a mounting block, I clasped the demure maiden closelyin my arms. What transpired has no witnesses save two saddle horses, and as Wolf usually kept an eye on his rider in mounting, I dropped thereins and gave him his freedom rather than endure his scrutiny. When wewere finally aroused from this delicious trance, the horses had strayedaway fully fifty yards, but I had received a favorable answer, breathedin a voice so low and tender that it haunts me yet. 

As we rode along, returning to the grove, Esther requested that ourbetrothal be kept a profound secret. No doubt she had good reasons, andit was quite possible that there then existed some complications whichshe wished to conceal, though I avoided all mention of any possiblerival. Since she was not due to return to her school before September, there seemed ample time to carry out our intentions of marrying. But aswe jogged along, she informed me that after spending a few weeks withher sister in Oakville, it was her intention to return to the San Miguelfor the summer. To allay her mother's distrust, it would be better forme not to call at the ranch. But this was easily compensated for whenshe suggested making several visits during the season with the Vauxgirls, chums of hers, who lived on the Frio about thirty miles due northof Las Palomas. This was fortunate, since the Vaux ranch and ours wereon the most friendly terms. 

We returned by the route by which we had left the grounds. I repicketedthe horses and we were soon mingling again with the revelers, havingbeen absent little over an hour. No one seemed to have taken any noticeof our absence. Mrs. Martin, I rejoiced to see, was still in tow of hersister and Miss Jean, and from the circle of Las Palomas courtiers whosurrounded the ladies, I felt sure they had given her no opportunityeven to miss her younger sister. Uncle Lance was the only member of ourcompany absent, but I gave myself no uneasiness about him, since themail contractors were both likewise missing. Rejoining our friends andassuming a nonchalant air, I flattered myself that my disguise wasperfect. 

During the remainder of the afternoon, in view of the possibility thatEsther might take her sister, Mrs. Martin, into our secret and win heras an ally, I cultivated that lady's acquaintance, dancing with her andleaving nothing undone to foster her friendship. Near the middle of theafternoon, as the three sisters, Miss Jean, and I were indulging inlight refreshment at a booth some distance from the dancing arbor, Isighted my employer, Dan Happersett, and the two stage men returningfrom the store. They passed near, not observing us, and from the defianttones of Uncle Lance's voice, I knew they had been tampering with the'private stock' of the merchant at Shepherd's. "Why, gentlemen, " saidhe, "that ambulance team is no exception to the quality of mules I'mraising at Las Palomas. Drive up some time and spend a few days and takea look at the stock we're breeding. If you will, and I don't show youfifty mules fourteen and a half hands or better, I'll round up fivehundred head and let you pick fifty as a pelon for your time andtrouble. Why, gentlemen, Las Palomas has sold mules to the government. "

On the return of our party to the arbor, Happersett claimed a dance withEsther, thus freeing me. Uncle Lance was standing some little distanceaway, still entertaining the mail contractors, and I edged near enoughto notice Oxenford's florid face and leery eye. But on my employer'scatching sight of me, he excused himself to the stage men, and taking myarm led me off. Together we promenaded out of sight of the crowd. "Howdo you like my style of a man herder?" inquired the old matchmaker, oncewe were out of hearing. "Why, Tom, I'd have held those mail thievesuntil dark, if Dan hadn't drifted in and given me the wink. Shepherdkicked like a bay steer on letting me have a second quart bottle, but ittook that to put the right glaze in the young Yank's eye. Oh, I had himgoing south all right! But tell me, how did you and Esther make it?"

We had reached a secluded spot, and, seating ourselves on an old fallentree trunk, I told of my success, even to the using of his horse. Neverbefore or since did I see Uncle Lance give way to such a fit of hilarityas he indulged in over the perfect working out of our plans. With hishat he whipped me, the ground, the log on which we sat, while his pealsof laughter rang out like the reports of a rifle. In his fit of ecstasy, tears of joy streaming from his eyes, he kept repeating again and again, "Oh, sister, run quick and tell pa to come!"

As we neared the grounds returning, he stopped me and we had a furtherbrief confidential talk together. I was young and egotistical enough tothink that I could defy all the rivals in existence, but he cautionedme, saying: "Hold on, Tom. You're young yet; you know nothing about theweaker sex, absolutely nothing. It's not your fault, but due to yourmere raw youth. Now, listen to me, son: Don't underestimate any rival, particularly if he has gall and money, most of all, money. Humanity isthe same the world over, and while you may not have seen it here amongthe ranches, it is natural for a woman to rave over a man with money, even if he is only a pimply excuse for a creature. Still, I don't seethat we have very much to fear. We can cut old lady McLeod out of thematter entirely. But then there's the girl's sister, Mrs. Martin, andI look for her to cut up shameful when she smells the rat, which she'ssure to do. And then there's her husband to figure on. If the ox knowshis master's crib, it's only reasonable to suppose that Jack Martinknows where his bread and butter comes from. These stage men will stickup for each other like thieves. Now, don't you be too crack sure. Bejust a trifle leary of every one, except, of course, the Las Palomasoutfit. "

I admit that I did not see clearly the reasoning behind much of thislecture, but I knew better than reject the advice of the old matchmakerwith his sixty odd years of experience. I was still meditating over hisremarks when we rejoined the crowd and were soon separated among thedancers. Several urged me to play the violin; but I was too busy lookingafter my own fences, and declined the invitation. Casting about for theVaux girls, I found the eldest, with whom I had a slight acquaintance, being monopolized by Theodore Quayle and John Cotton, friendly rivalsand favorites of the young lady. On my imploring the favor of a dance, she excused herself, and joined me on a promenade about the grounds, missing one dance entirely. In arranging matters with her to send meword on the arrival of Esther at their ranch, I attempted to make hershow some preference between my two comrades, under the pretense ofknowing which one to bring along, but she only smiled and maintained anadmirable neutrality. 

After a dance I returned the elder Miss Vaux to the tender care ofJohn Cotton, and caught sight of my employer leaving the arbor for therefreshment booth with a party of women, including Mrs. Martin andEsther McLeod, to whom he was paying the most devoted attention. Witnessing the tireless energy of the old matchmaker, and in a quarterwhere he had little hope of an ally, brought me to thinking that theremight be good cause for alarm in his warnings not to be overconfident. Miss Jean, whom I had not seen since luncheon, aroused me from myreverie, and on her wishing to know my motive for cultivating theacquaintance of Miss Vaux and neglecting my own sweetheart, I told herthe simple truth. "Good idea, Tom, " she assented. "I think I'll just askMiss Frances home with me to spend Sunday. Then you can take her acrossto the Frio on horseback, so as not to offend either John or Theodore. What do you think?"

I thought it was a good idea, and said so. At least the taking of theyoung lady home would be a pleasanter task for me than breaking horses. But as I expressed myself so, I could not help thinking, seeing MissJean's zeal in the matter, that the matchmaking instinct was equallywell developed on both sides of the Lovelace family. 

The afternoon was drawing to a close. The festivities would concludeby early sundown. Miss Jean would spend the night again at the halfwayranch, returning to Las Palomas the next morning; we would start on ourreturn with the close of the amusements. Many who lived at a distancehad already started home. It lacked but a few minutes of the closinghour when I sought out Esther for the "Home, Sweet Home" waltz, findingher in company of Oxenford, chaperoned by Mrs. Martin, of which therewas need. My sweetheart excused herself with a poise that made my heartleap, and as we whirled away in the mazes of the final dance, rivals andall else passed into oblivion. Before we could realize the change in themusic, the orchestra had stopped, and struck into "My Country, 'tis ofThee, " in which the voice of every patriotic Texan present swelled thechorus until it echoed throughout the grove, befittingly closing SanJacinto Day. 

CHAPTER VIII

A CAT HUNT ON THE FRIO

The return of Miss Jean the next forenoon, accompanied by Frances Vaux, was an occasion of more than ordinary moment at Las Palomas. The Vauxfamily were of creole extraction, but had settled on the Frio Rivernearly a generation before. Under the climatic change, from the swampsof Louisiana to the mesas of Texas, the girls grew up fine physicalspecimens of rustic Southern beauty. To a close observer, certain tracesof the French were distinctly discernible in Miss Frances, notably inthe large, lustrous eyes, the swarthy complexion, and early maturity ofwomanhood. Small wonder then that our guest should have played havocamong the young men of the countryside, adding to her train of gallantsthe devoted Quayle and Cotton of Las Palomas. 

Aside from her charming personality, that Miss Vaux should receive acordial welcome at Las Palomas goes without saying, since there weremany reasons why she should. The old ranchero and his sister chaperonedthe young lady, while I, betrothed to another, became her most obedientslave. It is needless to add that there was a fair field and no favorshown by her hosts, as between John and Theodore. The prize was worthyof any effort. The best man was welcome to win, while the blessings ofmaster and mistress seemed impatient to descend on the favored one. 

In the work in hand, I was forced to act as a rival to my friends, forI could not afford to lower my reputation for horsemanship before MissFrances, when my betrothed was shortly to be her guest. So it was notto be wondered at that Quayle and Cotton should abandon the _medeno_ inmounting their unbroken geldings, and I had to follow suit or sufferby comparison. The other rascals, equal if not superior to our trio inhorsemanship, including Enrique, born with just sense enough to be afearless vaquero, took to the heavy sand in mounting vicious geldings;but we three jauntily gave the wildest horses their heads and evenencouraged them to buck whenever our guest was sighted on the gallery. What gave special vim to our work was the fact that Miss Frances was ahorsewoman herself, and it was with difficulty that she could be keptaway from the corrals. Several times a day our guest prevailed on UncleLance to take her out to witness the roping. From a safe vantage placeon the palisades, the old ranchero and his protégé would watch uscatching, saddling, and mounting the geldings. Under those bright eyes, lariats encircled the feet of the horse to be ridden deftly indeed, andhe was laid on his side in the sand as daintily as a mother would layher babe in its crib. Outside of the trio, the work of the gang wasbunglesome, calling for many a protest from Uncle Lance, --they had nolady's glance to spur them on, --while ours merited the enthusiasticplaudits of Miss Frances. 

[Illustration: GAVE THE WILDEST HORSES THEIR HEADS]

Then came Sunday and we observed the commandment. Miss Jean had planneda picnic for the day on the river. We excused Tiburcio, and pressed theambulance team into service to convey the party of six for the day'souting among the fine groves of elm that bordered the river in severalplaces, and afforded ample shade from the sun. The day was delightfullyspent. The chaperons were negligent and dilatory. Uncle Lance evenfell asleep for several hours. But when we returned at twilight, theambulance mules were garlanded as if for a wedding party. 

The next morning our guest was to depart, and to me fell the pleasanttask of acting as her escort. Uncle Lance prevailed on Miss Frances toride a spirited chestnut horse from his mount, while I rode a _grulla_from my own. We made an early start, the old ranchero riding with usas far as the river. As he held the hand of Miss Vaux in parting, hecautioned her not to detain me at their ranch, as he had use for me atLas Palomas. "Of course, " said he, "I don't mean that you shall hurryhim right off to-day or even to-morrow. But these lazy rascals of minewill hang around a girl a week, if she'll allow it. Had John or Theodoretaken you home, I shouldn't expect to see either of them in a fortnight. Now, if they don't treat you right at home, come back and live with us. I'll adopt you as my daughter. And tell your pa that the first generalrain that falls, I'm coming over with my hounds for a cat hunt with him. Good-by, sweetheart. "

It was a delightful ride across to the Frio. Mounted on two splendidhorses, we put the Nueces behind us as the hours passed. Frequently wemet large strings of cattle drifting in towards the river for theirdaily drink, and Miss Frances insisted on riding through the cows, noticing every brand as keenly as a vaquero on the lookout for straysfrom her father's ranch. The young calves scampered out of our way, buttheir sedate mothers permitted us to ride near enough to read the brandsas we met and passed. Once we rode a mile out of our way to look at a_manada_. The stallion met us as we approached as if to challenge allintruders on his domain, but we met him defiantly and he turned asideand permitted us to examine his harem and its frolicsome colts. 

But when cattle and horses no longer served as a subject, and the wideexpanse of flowery mesa, studded here and there with Spanish daggerswhose creamy flowers nodded to us as we passed, ceased to interest us, we turned to the ever interesting subject of sweethearts. But try as Imight, I could never wring any confession from her which even suggesteda preference among her string of admirers. On the other hand, when shetwitted me about Esther, I proudly plead guilty of a Platonic friendshipwhich some day I hoped would ripen into something more permanent, fullyrealizing that the very first time these two chums met there would be aninterchange of confidences. And in the full knowledge that during thesewhispered admissions the truth would be revealed, I stoutly denied thatEsther and I were even betrothed. 

But during that morning's ride I made a friend and ally of Frances Vaux. There was some talk of a tournament to be held during the summer atCampbellton on the Atascosa. She promised that she would detain Estherfor it and find a way to send me word, and we would make up a party andattend it together. I had never been present at any of these pastoraltourneys and was hopeful that one would be held within reach of ourranch, for I had heard a great deal about them and was anxious to seeone. But this was only one of several social outings which she outlinedas on her summer programme, to all of which I was cordially invited asa member of her party. There was to be a dance on St. John's Day at theMission, a barbecue in June on the San Miguel, and other local meets forthe summer and early fall. By the time we reached the ranch, I was justbeginning to realize that, socially, Shepherd's Ferry and the Nueces wasa poky place. 

The next morning I returned to Las Palomas. The horse-breaking wasnearing an end. During the month of May we went into camp on a new tractof land which had been recently acquired, to build a tank on a dry_arroyo_ which crossed this last landed addition to the ranch. It was acommercial peculiarity of Uncle Lance to acquire land but never to partwith it under any consideration. To a certain extent, cows and land hadbecome his religion, and whenever either, adjoining Las Palomas, was forsale, they were looked upon as a safe bank of deposit for any surplusfunds. The last tract thus secured was dry, but by damming the _arroyo_we could store water in this tank or reservoir to tide over thedry spells. All the Mexican help on the ranch was put to work withwheelbarrows, while six mule teams ploughed, scraped, and hauled rock, one four-mule team being constantly employed in hauling water over tenmiles for camp and stock purposes. This dry stream ran water, whenconditions were favorable, several months in the year, and by buildingthe tank our cattle capacity would be largely increased. 

One evening, late in the month, when the water wagon returned, Tiburciobrought a request from Miss Jean, asking me to come into the ranch thatnight. Responding to the summons, I was rewarded by finding a letterawaiting me from Frances Vaux, left by a vaquero passing from the Frioto Santa Maria. It was a dainty missive, informing me that Esther washer guest; that the tournament would not take place, but to be sure andcome over on Sunday. Personally the note was satisfactory, but that Iwas to bring any one along was artfully omitted. Being thus forced toread between the lines, on my return to camp the next morning by dawn, without a word of explanation, I submitted the matter to John andTheodore. Uncle Lance, of course, had to know what had called me in tothe ranch, and, taking the letter from Quayle, read it himself. 

"That's plain enough, " said he, on the first reading. "John will go withyou Sunday, and if it rains next month, I'll take Theodore with me whenI go over for a cat hunt with old man Pierre. I'll let him act as masterof the horse, --no, of the hounds, --and give him a chance to toot his ownhorn with Frances. Honest, boys, I'm getting disgusted with the whiteelement of Las Palomas. We raise most everything here but white babies. Even Enrique, the rascal, has to live in camp now to hold down hisbreakfast. But you young whites--with the country just full of youngwomen--well, it's certainly discouraging. I do all I can, and Sis helpsa little, but what does it amount to--what are the results? That poemthat Jean reads to us occasionally must be right. I reckon the Caucasianis played out. "

Before the sun was an hour high, John Cotton and myself rode into theVaux ranch on Sunday morning. The girls gave us a cheerful welcome. While we were breakfasting, several other lads and lasses rode up, andwe were informed that a little picnic for the day had been arranged. As this was to our liking, John and I readily acquiesced, and shortlyafterward a mounted party of about a dozen young folks set out for ahackberry grove, up the river several miles. Lunch baskets were takenalong, but no chaperons. The girls were all dressed in cambric andmuslin and as light in heart as the fabrics and ribbons they flaunted. I was gratified with the boldness of Cotton, as he cantered away withFrances, and with the day before him there was every reason to believethat his cause would he advanced. As to myself, with Esther by my sidethe livelong day, I could not have asked the world to widen an inch. 

It was midnight when we reached Las Palomas returning. As we rode alongthat night, John confessed to me that Frances was a tantalizing enigma. Up to a certain point, she offered every encouragement, but beyond thatthere seemed to be a dead line over which she allowed no sentiment topass. It was plain to be seen that he was discouraged, but I told him Ihad gone through worse ordeals. 

Throughout southern Texas and the country tributary to the Nueces River, we always looked for our heaviest rainfall during the month of June. This year in particular, we were anxious to see a regular downpour tostart the _arroyo_ and test our new tank. Besides, we had sold fordelivery in July, twelve hundred beef steers for shipment at Rockport onthe coast. If only a soaking rain would fall, making water plentiful, wecould make the drive in little over a hundred miles, while a dry seasonwould compel; us to follow the river nearly double the distance. 

We were riding our range thoroughly, locating our fattest beeves, whenone evening as June Deweese and I were on the way back from the Ganso, a regular equinoctial struck us, accompanied by a downpour of rain andhail. Our horses turned their backs to the storm, but we drew slickersover our heads, and defied the elements. Instead of letting up asdarkness set in, the storm seemed to increase in fury and we were forcedto seek shelter. We were at least fifteen miles from the ranch, and itwas simply impossible to force a horse against that sheeting rain. So turning to catch the storm in our backs, we rode for a ranchitabelonging to Las Palomas. By the aid of flashes of lightning and thecourse of the storm, we reached the little ranch and found a haven. Asteady rain fell all night, continuing the next day, but we saddledearly and rode for our new reservoir on the _arroyo_. Imagine oursurprise on sighting the embankment to see two horsemen ride up from theopposite direction and halt at the dam. Giving rein to our horses andgalloping up, we found they were Uncle Lance and Theodore Quayle. Abovethe dam the _arroyo_ was running like a mill-tail. The water in thereservoir covered several acres and had backed up stream nearly aquarter mile, the deepest point in the tank reaching my saddle skirts. The embankment had settled solidly, holding the gathering water to oursatisfaction, and after several hours' inspection we rode for home. 

With this splendid rain, Las Palomas ranch took on an air of activity. The old ranchero paced the gallery for hours in great glee, watching thedownpour. It was too soon yet by a week to gather the beeves. But underthe glowing prospect, we could not remain inert. The next morning the_segunão_ took all the teams and returned to the tank to watch the damand haul rock to rip-rap the flanks of the embankment. Taking extrasaddle horses with us, Uncle Lance, Dan Happersett, Quayle, and myselftook the hounds and struck across for the Frio. On reaching the Vauxranch, as showers were still falling and the underbrush reeking withmoisture, wetting any one to the skin who dared to invade it, we did nothunt that afternoon. Pierre Vaux was enthusiastic over the rain, whilehis daughters were equally so over the prospects of riding to thehounds, there being now nearly forty dogs in the double pack. 

At the first opportunity, Frances confided to me that Mrs. McLeod hadforbidden Esther visiting them again, since some busybody had carriedthe news of our picnic to her ears. But she promised me that if I coulddirect the hunt on the morrow within a few miles of the McLeod ranch, she would entice my sweetheart out and give me a chance to meet her. There was a roguish look in Miss Frances's eye during this disclosurewhich I was unable to fathom, but I promised during the few days' huntto find some means to direct the chase within striking distance of theranch on the San Miguel. 

I promptly gave this bit of news in confidence to Uncle Lance, and wastold to lie low and leave matters to him. That evening, amid clouds oftobacco smoke, the two old rancheros discussed the best hunting in thecountry, while we youngsters danced on the gallery to the strains of afiddle. I heard Mr. Vaux narrating a fight with a cougar which killedtwo of his best dogs during the winter just passed, and before weretired it was understood that we would give the haunts of this same oldcougar our first attention. 

CHAPTER IX

THE ROSE AND ITS THORN

Dawn found the ranch astir and a heavy fog hanging over the Frio valley. Don Pierre had a _remuda_ corralled before sun-up, and insisted on ourriding his horses, an invitation which my employer alone declined. For the first hour or two the pack scouted the river bottoms with nosuccess, and Uncle Lance's verdict was that the valley was too soggy forany animal belonging to the cat family, so we turned back to the dividebetween the Frio and San Miguel. Here there grew among the hills manyGuajio thickets, and from the first one we beat, the hounds opened on ahot trail in splendid chorus. The pack led us through thickets for overa mile, when they suddenly turned down a ravine, heading for the river. With the ground ill splendid condition for trailing, the dogs in fullcry, the quarry sought every shelter possible; but within an hour ofstriking the scent, the pack came to bay in the encinal. On coming upwith the hounds, we found the animal was a large catamount. A singleshot brought him from his perch in a scraggy oak, and the first chase ofthe day was over. The pelt was worthless and was not taken. 

It was nearly noon when the kill was made, and Don Pierre insistedthat we return to the ranch. Uncle Lance protested against wasting theremainder of the day, but the courteous Creole urged that the groundwould be in fine condition for hunting at least a week longer; this hunthe declared was merely preliminary--to break the pack together and givethem a taste of the chase before attacking the cougar. "Ah, " said DonPierre, with a deprecating shrug of the shoulders, "you have nothing tohurry you home. I come by your rancho an' stay one hol' week. Youcome by mine, al' time hurry. Sacré! Let de li'l dogs rest, an' in demornin', mebbe we hunt de cougar. Ah, Meester Lance, we must haff depack fresh for him. By Gar, he was one dam' wil' fellow. Mek one twopass, so. Biff! two dog dead. "

Uncle Lance yielded, and we rode back to the ranch. The next morning ourparty included the three daughters of our host. Don Pierre led the wayon a roan stallion, and after two hours' riding we crossed the SanMiguel to the north of his ranch. A few miles beyond we entered somechalky hills, interspersed with white chaparral thickets which were justbursting into bloom, with a fragrance that was almost intoxicating. Under the direction of our host, we started to beat a long chain ofthese thickets, and were shortly rewarded by hearing the pack givemouth. The quarry kept to the cover of the thickets for several miles, impeding the chase until the last covert in the chain was reached, wherea fight occurred with the lead hound. Don Pierre was the first to reachthe scene, and caught several glimpses of a monster puma as he slunkaway through the Brazil brush, leaving one of the Don's favorite houndslacerated to the bone. But the pack passed on, and, lifting the woundeddog to a vaquero's saddle, we followed, lustily shouting to the hounds. 

The spoor now turned down the San Miguel, and the pace was such thatit took hard riding to keep within hearing. Mr. Vaux and Uncle Lanceusually held the lead, the remainder of the party, including the girls, bringing up the rear. The chase continued down stream for fully an hour, until we encountered some heavy timber on the main Frio, our coursehaving carried us several miles to the north of the McLeod ranch. Somedistance below the juncture with the San Miguel the river made a largehorseshoe, embracing nearly a thousand acres, which was covered with adense growth of ash, pecan, and cypress. The trail led into this jungle, circling it several times before leading away. We were fortunatelyable to keep track of the chase from the baying of the hounds withoutentering the timber, and were watching its course, when suddenly itchanged; the pack followed the scent across a bridge of driftwood on theFrio, and started up the river in full cry. 

As the chase down the San Miguel passed beyond the mouth of the creek, Theodore Quayle and Frances Vaux dropped out and rode for the McLeodranch. It was still early in the day, and understanding their motive, Iknew they would rejoin us if their mission was successful. By the suddenturn of the chase, we were likely to pass several miles south of thehome of my sweetheart, but our location could be easily followed by themusic of the pack. Within an hour after leaving us, Theodore and Francesrejoined the chase, adding Tony Hunter and Esther to our numbers. Withthis addition, I lost interest in the hunt, as the course carried usstraightaway five miles up the stream. The quarry was cunning anddelayed the pack at every thicket or large body of timber encountered. Several times he craftily attempted to throw the hounds off the scentby climbing leaning trees, only to spring down again. But the pack wererunning wide and the ruse was only tiring the hunted. The scent at timesleft the river and circled through outlying mesquite groves, alwayskeeping well under cover. On these occasions we rested our horses, forthe hunt was certain to return to the river. 

From the scattering order in which we rode, I was afforded a goodopportunity for free conversation with Esther. But the information Iobtained was not very encouraging. Her mother's authority had grown sosevere that existence under the same roof was a mere armistice betweenmother and daughter, while this day's sport was likely to break thealready strained relations. The thought that her suffering was largelyon my account, nerved me to resolution. 

The kill was made late in the day, in a bend of the river, about fifteenmiles above the Vaux ranch, forming a jungle of several thousand acres. In this thickety covert the fugitive made his final stand, taking refugein an immense old live-oak, the mossy festoons of which partiallyscreened him from view. The larger portion of the cavalcade remained inthe open, but the rest of us, under the leadership of the two rancheros, forced our horses through the underbrush and reached the hounds. Thepack were as good as exhausted by the long run, and, lest the animalshould spring out of the tree and escape, we circled it at a distance. On catching a fair view of the quarry, Uncle Lance called for a carbine. Two shots through the shoulders served to loosen the puma's footing, when he came down by easy stages from limb to limb, spitting and hissingdefiance into the upturned faces of the pack. As he fell, we dashed into beat off the dogs as a matter of precaution, but the bullets had donetheir work, and the pack mouthed the fallen feline with entire impunity. 

Dan Happersett dragged the dead puma out with a rope over the neck forthe inspection of the girls, while our horses, which had had no lessthan a fifty-mile ride, were unsaddled and allowed a roll and a halfhour's graze before starting back. As we were watering our mounts, Icaught my employer's ear long enough to repeat what I had learned aboutEsther's home difficulties. After picketing our horses, we strolled awayfrom the remainder of the party, when Uncle Lance remarked: "Tom, yourchance has come where you must play your hand and play it boldly. I'llkeep Tony at the Vaux ranch, and if Esther has to go home to-night, why, of course, you'll have to take her. There's your chance to run off andmarry. Now, Tom, you've never failed me yet; and this thing has gone farenough. We'll give old lady McLeod good cause to hate us from now on. I've got some money with me, and I'll rob the other boys, and to-nightyou make a spoon or spoil a horn. Sabe?"

I understood and approved. As we jogged along homeward, Esther and Ifell to the rear, and I outlined my programme. Nor did she protest whenI suggested that to-night was the accepted time. Before we reached theVaux ranch every little detail was arranged. There was a splendid moon, and after supper she plead the necessity of returning home. Meanwhileevery cent my friends possessed had been given me, and the two besthorses of Las Palomas were under saddle for the start. Uncle Lance wasarranging a big hunt for the morrow with Tony Hunter and Don Pierre, when Esther took leave of her friends, only a few of whom were cognizantof our intended elopement. 

With fresh mounts under us, we soon covered the intervening distancebetween the two ranches. I would gladly have waived touching at theMcLeod ranch, but Esther had torn her dress during the day and insistedon a change, and I, of necessity, yielded. The corrals were at somedistance from the main buildings, and, halting at a saddle shedadjoining, Esther left me and entered the house. Fortunately her motherhad retired, and after making a hasty change of apparel, she returnedunobserved to the corrals. As we quietly rode out from the inclosure, my spirits soared to the moon above us. The night was an ideal one. Crossing the Frio, we followed the divide some distance, keeping in theopen, and an hour before midnight forded the Nueces at Shepherd's. Aflood of recollections crossed my mind, as our steaming horses benttheir heads to drink at the ferry. Less than a year before, in thisvery grove, I had met her; it was but two months since, on those hillsbeyond, we had gathered flowers, plighted our troth, and exchanged ourfirst rapturous kiss. And the thought that she was renouncing home andall for my sake, softened my heart and nerved me to every exertion. 

Our intention was to intercept the south-bound stage at the firstroad house south of Oakville. I knew the hour it was due to leave thestation, and by steady riding we could connect with it at the firststage stand some fifteen miles below. Lighthearted and happy, we setout on this last lap of our ride. Our horses seemed to understand theemergency, as they put the miles behind them, thrilling us with theirenergy and vigor. Never for a moment in our flight did my sweetheartdiscover a single qualm over her decision, while in my case all scrupleswere buried in the hope of victory. Recrossing the Nueces and enteringthe stage road, we followed it down several miles, sighting the stagestand about two o'clock in the morning. I was saddle weary from thehunt, together with this fifty-mile ride, and rejoiced in reaching ourtemporary destination. Esther, however, seemed little the worse for thelong ride. 

The welcome extended by the keeper of this relay station was gruffenough. But his tone and manner moderated when he learned we werepassengers for Corpus Christi. When I made arrangements with him to lookafter our horses for a week or ten days at a handsome figure, he becameamiable, invited us to a cup of coffee, and politely informed us thatthe stage was due in half an hour. But on its arrival, promptly on time, our hearts sank within us. On the driver's box sat an express guardholding across his knees a sawed-off, double-barreled shotgun. As ithalted, two other guards stepped out of the coach, similarly armed. Thestage was carrying an unusual amount of treasure, we were informed, andno passengers could be accepted, as an attempted robbery was expectedbetween this and the next station. 

Our situation became embarrassing. For the first time during our ride, Esther showed the timidity of her sex. The chosen destination of ourhoneymoon, nearly a hundred miles to the south, was now out of thequestion. To return to Oakville, where a sister and friends of mysweetheart resided, seemed the only avenue open. I had misgivings thatit was unsafe, but Esther urged it, declaring that Mrs. Martin wouldoffer no opposition, and even if she did, nothing now could come thatwould ever separate us. We learned from the keeper that Jack Martin wasdue to drive the north-bound stage out of Oakville that morning, and wasexpected to pass this relay station about daybreak. This was favorable, and we decided to wait and allow the stage to pass north before resumingour journey. 

On the arrival of the stage, we learned that the down coach had beenattacked, but the robbers, finding it guarded, had fled after anexchange of shots in the darkness. This had a further depressing effecton my betrothed, and only my encouragement to be brave and face thedilemma confronting us kept her up. Bred on the frontier, this littleranch girl was no weakling; but the sudden overturn of our well-laidplans had chilled my own spirits as well as hers. Giving the up stagea good start of us, we resaddled and started for Oakville, slightlycrestfallen but still confident. In the open air Esther's fearsgradually subsided, and, invigorated by the morning and the gallop, wereached our destination after our night's adventure with hopes buoyantand colors flying. 

Mrs. Martin looked a trifle dumfounded at her early callers, but I lostno time in informing her that our mission was an elopement, and askedher approval and blessing. Surprised as she was, she welcomed us tobreakfast, inquiring of our plans and showing alarm over our experience. Since Oakville was a county seat where a license could be secured, forfear of pursuit I urged an immediate marriage, but Mrs. Martin could seeno necessity for haste. There was, she said, no one there whom she wouldallow to solemnize a wedding of her sister, and, to my chagrin, Estheragreed with her. 

This was just what I had dreaded; but Mrs. Martin, with apparententhusiasm over our union, took the reins in her own hands, and decidedthat we should wait until Jack's return, when we would all take thestage to Pleasanton, where an Episcopal minister lived. My heart sankat this, for it meant a delay of two days, and I stood up and stoutlyprotested. But now that the excitement of our flight had abated, my ownEsther innocently sided with her sister, and I was at my wit's end. Toall my appeals, the sisters replied with the argument that there was nohurry--that while the hunt lasted at the Vaux ranch Tony Hunter could bedepended upon to follow the hounds; Esther would never be missed untilhis return; her mother would suppose she was with the Vaux girls, andwould be busy preparing a lecture against her return. 

Of course the argument of the sisters won the hour. Though dreading someunforeseen danger, I temporarily yielded. I knew the motive of the huntwell enough to know that the moment we had an ample start it would beabandoned, and the Las Palomas contingent would return to the ranch. YetI dare not tell, even my betrothed, that there were ulterior motivesin my employer's hunting on the Frio, one of which was to afford anopportunity for our elopement. Full of apprehension and alarm, I took aroom at the village hostelry, for I had our horses to look after, and secured a much-needed sleep during the afternoon. That evening Ireturned to the Martin cottage, to urge again that we carry out ouroriginal programme by taking the south-bound stage at midnight. But allI could say was of no avail. Mrs. Martin was equal to every suggestion. She had all the plans outlined, and there was no occasion for me todo any thinking at all. Corpus Christi was not to be considered for asingle moment, compared to Pleasanton and an Episcopalian service. Whatcould I do?

At an early hour Mrs. Martin withdrew. The reaction from our escapadehad left a pallor on my sweetheart's countenance, almost alarming. Noticing this, I took my leave early, hoping that a good night's restwould restore her color and her spirits. Returning to the hostelry, Iresignedly sought my room, since there was nothing I could do but wait. Tossing and pitching on my bed, I upbraided myself for having returnedto Oakville, where any interference with our plans could possiblydevelop. 

The next morning at breakfast, I noticed that I was the object ofparticular attention, and of no very kindly sort. No one even gave mea friendly nod, while several avoided my glances. Supposing that somerumor of our elopement might be abroad, I hurriedly finished my mealand started for the Martins'. On reaching the door, I was met by itsmistress, who, I had need to remind myself, was the sister of mybetrothed. To my friendly salutation, she gave me a scornful, witheringlook. 

"You're too late, young man, " she said. "Shortly after you left lastnight, Esther and Jack Oxenford took a private conveyance for Beeville, and are married before this. You Las Palomas people are slow. Old LanceLovelace thought he was playing it cute San Jacinto Day, but Isaw through his little game. Somebody must have told him he was amatchmaker. Well, just give him my regards, and tell him he don't knowthe first principles of that little game. Tell him to drop in some timewhen he's passing; I may be able to give him some pointers that I'm notusing at the moment. I hope your sorrow will not exceed my happiness. Good-morning, sir. "

CHAPTER X

AFTERMATH

My memory of what happened immediately after Mrs. Martin's contemptuoustreatment of me is as vague and indefinite as the vaporings of a fevereddream. I have a faint recollection of several friendly people offeringtheir sympathy. The old stableman, who looked after the horses, cautioned me not to start out alone; but I have since learned that Icursed him and all the rest, and rode away as one in a trance. But Imust have had some little caution left, for I remember giving Shepherd'sa wide berth, passing several miles to the south. 

The horses, taking their own way, were wandering home. Any exercise ofcontrol or guidance over them on my part was inspired by an instinctto avoid being seen. Of conscious direction there was none. Somewherebetween the ferry and the ranch I remember being awakened from my torporby the horse which I was leading showing an inclination to graze. ThenI noticed their gaunted condition, and in sympathy for the poor brutesunsaddled and picketed them in a secluded spot. What happened at thishalt has slipped from my memory. But I must have slept a long time; forI awoke to find the moon high overhead, and my watch, through neglect, run down and stopped. I now realized the better my predicament, andreasoned with myself whether I should return to Las Palomas or not. Butthere was no place else to go, and the horses did not belong to me. If Icould only reach the ranch and secure my own horse, I felt that no poweron earth could chain me to the scenes of my humiliation. 

The horses decided me to return. Resaddling at an unknown hour, I rodefor the ranch. The animals were refreshed and made good time. As I rodealong I tried to convince myself that I could slip into the ranch, secure my own saddle horse, and meet no one except the Mexicans. Therewas a possibility that Deweese might still be in camp at the newreservoir, and I was hopeful that my employer might not yet be returnedfrom the hunt on the Frio. After a number of hours' riding, the horseunder saddle nickered. Halting him, I listened and heard the roosterscrowing in a chorus at the ranch. Clouds had obscured the moon, and soby making a detour around the home buildings I was able to reach theMexican quarters unobserved. I rode up to the house of Enrique, andquietly aroused him; told him my misfortune and asked him to hide meuntil he could get up my horse. We turned the animals loose, and, takingmy saddle inside the _jacal_, held a whispered conversation. Deweese wasyet at the tank. If the hunting party had returned, they had done soduring the night. The distant range of my horse made it impossible toget him before the middle of the forenoon, but Enrique and Doņa Anitaassured me that my slightest wish was law to them. Furnishing me with ablanket and pillow, they made me a couch on a dry cowskin on the dirtfloor at the foot of their bed, and before day broke I had fallenasleep. 

On awakening, I found the sun had already risen. Enrique and his wifewere missing from the room, but a peep through a crevice in the palisadewall revealed Doņa Anita in the kitchen adjoining. She had detected myawakening, and soon brought me a cup of splendid coffee, which I drankwith relish. She urged on me also some dainty dishes, which had alwaysbeen favorites with me in Mexican cookery, but my appetite was gone. Throwing myself back on the cowskin, I asked Doņa Anita how long Enriquehad been gone in quest of my horse, and was informed that he leftbefore dawn, not even waiting for his customary cup of coffee. With thekindness of a sister, the girl wife urged me to take their bed; butI assured her that comfort was the least of my concerns, completeeffacement being my consuming thought. 

Doņa Anita withdrew, and as I lay pondering over the several possibleroutes of escape, I heard a commotion in the ranch. I was in the act ofrising when Doņa Anita burst into the _jacal_ to tell me that Don Lancehad been sighted returning. I was on my feet in an instant, heard thelong-drawn notes of the horn calling in the hounds, and, peering throughthe largest crack, saw the cavalcade. As they approached, driving theirloose mounts in front of them, I felt that my ill luck still hung overme; for among the unsaddled horses were the two which I had turned freebut a few hours before. The hunters had met the gaunted animals betweenthe ranch and the river, and were bringing them in to return them totheir own _remuda_. But at the same time the horses were evidence that Iwas in the ranch. From the position of Uncle Lance, in advance, I couldsee that he was riding direct to the house, and my absence there wouldsurely cause surprise. At best it was but a question of time until I wasdiscovered. 

In the face of this new development, I gave up. There was no escapingfate. Enrique might not return for two hours yet, and if he came, driving in my horse, it would only prove my presence. I begged DoņaAnita to throw open the door and conceal nothing. But she was stillready to aid in my concealment until night, offering to deny mypresence. But how could I conceal myself in a single room, and what wasso simple a device to a worldly man of sixty years' experience? To methe case looked hopeless. Even before we had concluded our discussion, I saw Uncle Lance and the boys coming towards the Mexican quarters, followed by Miss Jean and the household contingent. The fact thatthe door of Enrique's _jacal_ was closed, made it a shining mark forinvestigation. Opening the inner door, I started to meet the visitors;but Doņa Anita planted herself at the outer entrance of the stoop, met thevisitors, and within my hearing and without being asked stoutly deniedmy presence. "Hush up, you little liar, " said a voice, and I heard astep and clanking spurs which I recognized. I had sat down on the edgeof the bed, and was rolling a cigarette as the crowd filed into the_jacal_. A fortunate flush of anger came over me which served to steadymy voice; but I met their staring, after all, much as if I had been aculprit and they a vigilance committee. 

"Well, young fellow, explain your presence here, " demanded Uncle Lance. Had it not been for the presence of Miss Jean, I had on my tongue'send a reply, relative to the eleventh commandment, emphasized withsulphurous adjectives. But out of deference to the mistress of theranch, I controlled my anger, and, taking out of my pocket a flint, a steel, and, a bit of _yesca, _ struck fire and leisurely lighted mycigarette. Throwing myself back on the bed, as my employer repeatedhis demand, I replied, "Ask Anita. " The girl understood, and, nothingabashed, told the story in her native tongue, continually referring tome as _pobre Tomas_. When her disconnected narrative was concluded, Uncle Lance turned on me, saying:--

"And this is the result of all our plans. You went into Oakville, didyou? Tom, you haven't, got as much sense as a candy frog. Walked rightinto a trap with your head up and sassy. That's right--don't you listento any one. Didn't I tell you that stage people would stick by eachother like thieves? And you forgot all my warnings and deliberately"--

"Hold on, " I interrupted. "You must recollect that the horses had had afifty-mile forced ride, were jaded, and on the point of collapse. Withthe down stage refusing to carry us, and the girl on the point ofhysteria, where else could I go?"

"Go to jail if necessary. Go anywhere but the place you went. The horseswere jaded on a fifty-mile ride, were they? Either one of them was goodfor a hundred without unsaddling, and you know it. Haven't I told youthat this ranch would raise horses when we were all dead and gone?Suppose you had killed a couple of horses? What would that have been, compared to your sneaking into the ranch this way, like a whipped curwith your tail between your legs? Now, the countryside will laugh at usboth. "

"The country may laugh, " I answered, "but I'll not be here to hear it. Enrique has gone after my horse, and as soon as he gets in I'm leavingyou for good. "

"You'll do nothing of the kind. You think you're all shot to pieces, don't you? Well, you'll stay right here until all your wounds heal. I've taken all these degrees myself, and have lived to laugh at themafterward. And I have had lessons that I hope you'll never have tolearn. When I found out that my third wife had known a gambler beforeshe married me, I found out what the Bible means by rottenness of thebones with which it says an evil woman uncrowns her husband. I'll tellyou about it some day. But you've not been scarred in this littleside-play. You're not even powder burnt. Why, in less than a monthyou'll be just as happy again as if you had good sense. "

Miss Jean now interrupted. "Clear right out of here, " she said to herbrother and the rest. "Yes, the whole pack of you. I want to talk withTom alone. Yes, you too--you've said too much already. Run along out. "

As they filed out, I noticed Uncle Lance pick up my saddle and throw itacross his shoulder, while Theodore gathered up the rancid blankets andmy fancy bridle, taking everything with them to the house. Waiting untilshe saw that her orders were obeyed, Miss Jean came over and sat downbeside me on the bed. Anita stood like a fawn near the door, likewisefearing banishment, but on a sign from her mistress she spread agoatskin on the floor and sat down at our feet. Between two languagesand two women, I was as helpless as an ironed prisoner. Not that Anitahad any influence over me, but the mistress of the ranch had. In herhands I was as helpless as a baby. I had come to the ranch a strangeronly a little over a year before, but had I been born there her interestcould have been no stronger. Jean Lovelace relinquished no one, any morethan a mother would one of her boys. I wanted to escape, to get awayfrom observation; I even plead for a month's leave of absence. But myreasons were of no avail, and after arguing pro and con for over anhour, I went with her to the house. If the Almighty ever made a goodwoman and placed her among men for their betterment, then the presenceof Jean Lovelace at Las Palomas savored of divine appointment. 

On reaching the yard, we rested a long time on a settee under a groupof china trees. The boys had dispersed, and after quite a friendly chattogether, we saw Uncle Lance sauntering out of the house, smiling as heapproached. "Tom's going to stay, " said Miss Jean to her brother, asthe latter seated himself beside us; "but this abuse and blame you'reheaping on him must stop. He did what he thought was best under thecircumstances, and you don't know what they were. He has given me hispromise to stay, and I have given him mine that talk about this matterwill be dropped. Now that your anger has cooled, and I have you bothtogether, I want your word. "

"Tom, " said my employer, throwing his long bony arm around me, "I wasdisappointed, terribly put out, and I showed it in freeing my mind. ButI feel better now--towards you, at least. I understand just how you feltwhen your plans were thwarted by an unforeseen incident. If I don't knoweverything, then, since the milk is spilt, I'm not asking forfurther particulars. If you did what you thought was best under thecircumstances, why, that's all we ever ask of any one at Las Palomas. A mistake is nothing; my whole life is a series of errors. I've beentrying, and expect to keep right on trying, to give you youngsters thebenefit of my years; but if you insist on learning it for yourselves, well enough. When I was your age, I took no one's advice; but look howI've paid the fiddler. Possibly it was ordained otherwise, but it looksto me like a shame that I can't give you boys the benefit of my dearlybought experience. But whether you take my advice or not, we're going tobe just as good friends as ever. I need young fellows like you on thisranch. I've sent Dan out after Deweese, and to-morrow we're going tocommence gathering beeves. A few weeks' good hard work will do youworlds of good. In less than a year, you'll look back at this as asplendid lesson. Shucks! boy, a man is a narrow, calloused creatureuntil he has been shook up a few times by love affairs. They develop himinto the man he was intended to be. Come on into the house, Tom, andJean will make us a couple of mint juleps. "

What a blessed panacea for mental trouble is work! We were in the saddleby daybreak the next morning, rounding up _remudas_. Every availablevaquero at the outlying ranchitas had been summoned. Dividing the outfitand horses, Uncle Lance took twelve men and struck west for the Ganso. With an equal number of men, Deweese pushed north for the Frio, whichhe was to work down below Shepherd's, thence back along the home river. From the ranch books, we knew there were fully two thousand beeves overfive years old in our brand. These cattle had never known an hour'srestraint since the day they were branded, and caution and cool judgmentwould be required in handling them. Since the contract only requiredtwelve hundred, we expected to make an extra clean gathering, using theoldest and naturally the largest beeves. 

During the week spent in gathering, I got the full benefit of everypossible hour in the saddle. We reached the Ganso about an hour beforesundown. The weather had settled; water was plentiful, and every onerealized that the work in hand would require wider riding than under dryconditions. By the time we had caught up fresh horses, the sun had gonedown. "Boys, " said Uncle Lance, "we want to make a big rodeo on the headof this creek in the morning. Tom, you take two vaqueros and lay off tothe southwest about ten miles, and make a dry camp to-night. Glenn mayhave the same help to the southeast; and every rascal of you be in yoursaddles by daybreak. There are a lot of big _ladino_ beeves in thosebrushy hills to the south and west. Be sure and be in your saddles earlyenough to catch _all_ wild cattle out on the prairies. If you want to, you can take a lunch in your pocket for breakfast. No; you need noblankets--you'll get up earlier if you sleep cold. "

Taking José Pena and Pasquale Arispe with me, I struck off on our coursein the gathering twilight. The first twitter of a bird in the morningbrought me to my feet; I roused the others, and we saddled and wereriding with the first sign of dawn in the east. Taking the outsidecircle myself, I gave every bunch of cattle met on my course a goodstart for the centre of the round-up. Pasquale and Jose followed severalmiles to my rear on inner circles, drifting on the cattle which I hadstarted inward. As the sun arose, dispelling the morning mists, I couldsee other cattle coming down in long strings out of the hills to theeastward. Within an hour after starting, Gallup and I met. Our halfcircle to the southward was perfect, and each turning back, we rode ourappointed divisions until the vaqueros from the wagon were sighted, throwing in cattle and closing up the northern portion of the circle. Before the sun was two hours high, the first rodeo of the day wastogether, numbering about three thousand mixed cattle. In the few hourssince dawn, we had concentrated all animals in a territory at leastfifteen miles in diameter. 

Uncle Lance was in his element. Detailing two vaqueros to hold the beefcut within reach and a half dozen to keep the main herd compact, heordered the remainder of us to enter and begin the selecting of beeves. There were a number of big wild steers in the round-up, but we leftthose until the cut numbered over two hundred. When every hoof over fiveyears of age was separated, we had a nucleus for our beef herd numberingabout two hundred and forty steers. They were in fine condition forgrass cattle, and, turning the main herd free, we started our cut forthe wagon, being compelled to ride wide of them as we drifted downstream towards camp, as there were a number of old beeves which showedimpatience at the restraint. But by letting them scatter well, by thetime they reached the wagon it required but two vaqueros to hold them. 

The afternoon was but a repetition of the morning. Everything on thesouth side of the Nueces between the river and the wagon was throwntogether on the second round-up of the day, which yielded less than twohundred cattle for our beef herd. But when we went into camp, dividinginto squads for night-herding, the day's work was satisfactory to theranchero. Dan Happersett was given five vaqueros and stood the firstwatch or until one A. M. Glenn Gallup and myself took the remainder ofthe men and stood guard until morning. When Happersett called our guardan hour after midnight, he said to Gallup and me as we were pulling onour boots: "About a dozen big steers haven't laid down. There's onlyone of them that has given any trouble. He's a pinto that we cut in thefirst round-up in the morning. He has made two breaks already to getaway, and if you don't watch him close, he'll surely give you the slip. "

While riding to the relief, Glenn and I posted our vaqueros to be on thelookout for the pinto beef. The cattle were intentionally bedded loose;but even in the starlight and waning moon, every man easily spottedthe _ladino_ beef, uneasily stalking back and forth like a caged tigeracross the bed ground. A half hour before dawn, he made a final effortto escape, charging out between Gallup and the vaquero following upon the same side. From the other side of the bed ground, I heard thecommotion, but dare not leave the herd to assist. There was a mile ofopen country surrounding our camp, and if two men could not turn thebeef on that space, it was useless for others to offer assistance. Inthe stillness of the morning hour, we could hear the running and seethe flashes from six-shooters, marking the course of the outlaw. Aftermaking a half circle, we heard them coming direct for the herd. For fearof a stampede, we raised a great commotion around the sleeping cattle;but in spite of our precaution, as the _ladino_ beef reëntered the herd, over half the beeves jumped to their feet and began milling. But we heldthem until dawn, and after scattering them over several hundred acres, left them grazing contentedly, when, leaving two vaqueros with thefeeding herd, we went back to the wagon. The camp had been astir sometime, and when Glenn reported the incident of our watch, Uncle Lancesaid: "I thought I heard some shooting while I was cat-napping atdaylight. Well, we can use a little fresh beef in this very camp. We'llkill him at noon. The wagon will move down near the river this morning, so we can make three rodeos from it without moving camp, and to-nightwe'll have a side of Pinto's ribs barbecued. My mouth is watering thisvery minute for a rib roast. "

That morning after a big rodeo on the Nueces, well above the Ganso, wereturned to camp. Throwing into our herd the cut of less than a hundredsecured on the morning round-up, Uncle Lance, who had preceded us, rodeout from the wagon with a carbine. Allowing the beeves to scatter, theold ranchero met and rode zigzagging through them until he came face toface with the pinto _ladino_. On noticing the intruding horseman, theoutlaw threw up his head. There was a carbine report and the big fellowwent down in his tracks. By the time the herd had grazed away, Tiburcio, who was cooking with our wagon, brought out all the knives, and the beefwas bled, dressed, and quartered. 

"You can afford to be extravagant with this beef, " said Uncle Lance tothe old cook, when the quarters had been carried in to the wagon. "I'vebeen ranching on this river nearly forty years, and I've always made ita rule, where cattle cannot be safely handled, to beef them then andthere. I've sat up many a night barbecuing the ribs of a _ladino_. Ifyou have plenty of salt, Tiburcio, you can make a brine and jerk thosehind quarters. It will make fine chewing for the boys on night herd whenonce we start for the coast. "

Following down the home river, we made ten other rodeos before we metDeweese. We had something over a thousand beeves while he had less thaneight hundred. Throwing the two cuts together, we made a count, and cutback all the younger and smaller cattle until the herd was reduced tothe required number. Before my advent at Las Palomas, about the onlyoutlet for beef cattle had been the canneries at Rockport and Fulton. But these cattle were for shipment by boat to New Orleans and othercoast cities. The route to the coast was well known to my employer, anddetailing twelve men for the herd, a horse wrangler and cook extra, westarted for it, barely touching at the ranch on our course. It was anice ten days' trip. After the first night, we used three guards of fourmen each. Grazing contentedly, the cattle quieted down until on ourarrival half our numbers could have handled them. The herd was countedand received on the outlying prairies, and as no steamer was due for afew days, another outfit took charge of them. 

Uncle Lance was never much of a man for towns, and soon after settlementthe next morning we were ready to start home. But the payment, amountingto thirty thousand dollars, presented a problem, as the bulk of it cameto us in silver. There was scarcely a merchant in the place who wouldassume the responsibility of receiving it even on deposit, and in theabsence of a bank, there was no alternative but to take it home. Theagent for the steamship company solicited the money for transportationto New Orleans, mentioning the danger of robbery, and referring to therecent attempt of bandits to hold up the San Antonio and Corpus Christistage. I had good cause to remember that incident, and was wonderingwhat my employer would do under the circumstances, when he turned fromthe agent, saying:--

"Well, we'll take it home just the same. I have no use for money in NewOrleans. Nor do I care if every bandit in Texas knows we've got themoney in the wagon. I want to buy a few new guns, anyhow. If robberstackle us, we'll promise them a warm reception--and I never knew a thiefwho didn't think more of his own carcass than of another man's money. "

The silver was loaded into the wagon in sacks, and we started on ourreturn. It was rather a risky trip, but we never concealed the factthat we had every dollar of the money in the wagon. It would have beendangerous to make an attempt on us, for we were all well armed. Wereached the ranch in safety, rested a day, and then took the ambulanceand went on to San Antonio. Three of us, besides Tiburcio, accompaniedour employer, each taking a saddle horse, and stopping by night atranches where we were known. On the third day we reached the city ingood time to bank the money, much to my relief. 

As there was no work pressing at home, we spent a week in the city, thoroughly enjoying ourselves. Uncle Lance was negotiating for thepurchase of a large Spanish land grant, which adjoined our range on thewest, taking in the Ganso and several miles' frontage on both sides ofthe home river. This required his attention for a few days, during whichtime Deweese met two men on the lookout for stock cattle with which tostart a new ranch on the Devil's River in Valverde County. They were inthe market for three thousand cows, to be delivered that fall or thefollowing spring. Our _segundo_ promptly invited them to meet hisemployer that evening at our hotel. As the ranges in eastern Texasbecame of value for agriculture, the cowman moved westward, disposingof his cattle or taking them with him. It was men of this class whomDeweese had met during the day, and on filling their appointment inthe evening, our employer and the buyers soon came to an agreement. References were exchanged, and the next afternoon a contract was enteredinto whereby we were to deliver, May first, at Las Palomas ranch, threethousand cows between the ages of two and four years. 

There was some delay in perfecting the title to the land grant. "We'llstart home in the morning, boys, " said Uncle Lance, the evening afterthe contract was drawn. "You simply can't hurry a land deal. I'll getthat tract in time, but there's over a hundred heirs now of the originalDon. I'd just like to know what the grandee did for his king to get thatgrant. Tickled his royal nibs, I reckon, with some cock and bull story, and here I have to give up nearly forty thousand dollars of good honestmoney. Twenty years ago I was offered this same grant for ten cents anacre, and now I'm paying four bits. But I didn't have the money then, and I'm not sure I'd have bought it if I had. But I need it now, andI need it bad, and that's why I'm letting them hold me up for such afigure. "

Stopping at the "last chance" road house on the outskirts of the citythe next morning, for a final drink as we were leaving, Uncle Lance saidto us over the cattle contract: "There's money in it--good money, too. But we're not going to fill it out of our home brand. Not in this yearof our Lord. I think too much of my cows to part with a single animal. Boys, cows made Las Palomas what she is, and as long as they win forme, I intend--to swear by them through thick and thin, in good andbad repute, fair weather or foul. So, June, just as soon as the fallbranding is over, you can take Tom with you for an interpreter and startfor Mexico to contract these cows. Las Palomas is going to branch outand spread herself. As a ranchman, I can bring the cows across forbreeding purposes free of duty, and I know of no good reason why I can'tchange my mind and sell them. Dan, take Tiburcio out a cigar. "

CHAPTER XI

A TURKEY BAKE

Deweese and I came back from Mexico during Christmas week. On reachingLas Palomas, we found Frank Nancrede and Add Tully, the latter beingalso a trail foreman, at the ranch. They were wintering in San Antonio, and were spending a few weeks at our ranch, incidentally on the lookoutfor several hundred saddle horses for trail purposes the coming spring. We had no horses for sale, but nevertheless Uncle Lance had prevailed onthem to make Las Palomas headquarters during their stay in the country. 

The first night at the ranch, Miss Jean and I talked until nearlymidnight. There had been so many happenings during my absence that itrequired a whole evening to tell them all. From the naming of Anita'sbaby to the rivalry between John and Theodore for the favor of FrancesVaux, all the latest social news of the countryside was discussed. MissJean had attended the dance at Shepherd's during the fall, and had heardit whispered that Oxenford and Esther were anything but happy. Thelatest word from the Vaux ranch said that the couple had separated; atleast there was some trouble, for when Oxenford had attempted to forceher to return to Oakville, and had made some disparaging remarks, TonyHunter had crimped a six-shooter over his head. I pretended not to beinterested in this, but secretly had I learned that Hunter had killedOxenford, I should have had no very serious regrets. 

Uncle Lance had promised Tully and Nancrede a turkey hunt during theholidays, so on our unexpected return it was decided to have it at once. There had been a heavy mast that year, and in the encinal ridges to theeast wild turkeys were reported plentiful. Accordingly we set out thenext afternoon for a camp hunt in some oak cross timbers which grewon the eastern border of our ranch lands. Taking two pack mules andTiburcio as cook, a party of eight of us rode away, expecting to remainovernight. Uncle Lance knew of a fine camping spot about ten miles fromthe ranch. When within a few miles of the place, Tiburcio was sent onahead with the pack mules to make camp. "Boys, we'll divide up here, "said Uncle Lance, "and take a little scout through these cross timbersand try and locate some roosts. The camp will be in those narrows aheadyonder where that burnt timber is to your right. Keep an eye open for_javalina_ signs; they used to be plentiful through here when therewas good mast. Now, scatter out in pairs, and if you can knock down agobbler or two we'll have a turkey bake to-night. "

Dan Happersett knew the camping spot, so I went with him, and togetherwe took a big circle through the encinal, keeping alert for game signs. Before we had gone far, evidence became plentiful, not only of turkeys, but of peccary and deer. Where the turkeys had recently been scratching, many times we dismounted and led our horses--but either the turkeys weretoo wary for us, or else we had been deceived as to the freshness of thesign. Several successive shots on our right caused us to hurry out ofthe timber in the direction of the reports. Halting in the edge of thetimber, we watched the strip of prairie between us and the next cover tothe south. Soon a flock of fully a hundred wild turkeys came running outof the encinal on the opposite side and started across to our ridge. Keeping under cover, we rode to intercept them, never losing sight ofthe covey. They were running fast; but when they were nearly halfwayacross the opening, there was another shot and they took flight, sailinginto cover ahead of us, well out of range. But one gobbler was so fatthat he was unable to fly over a hundred yards and was still in theopen. We rode to cut him off. On sighting us, he attempted to rise; buthis pounds were against him, and when we crossed his course he was sowinded that our horses ran all around him. After we had both shot a fewtimes, missing him, he squatted in some tall grass and stuck his headunder a tuft. Dismounting, Dan sprang on to him like a fox, and he wasours. We wrung his neck, and agreed to report that we had shot himthrough the head, thus concealing, in the absence of bullet wounds, ourpoor marksmanship. 

When we reached the camp shortly before dark, we found the others hadalready arrived, ours making the sixth turkey in the evening's bag. Wehad drawn ours on killing it, as had the others, and after supper UncleLance superintended the stuffing of the two largest birds. While thiswas in progress, others made a stiff mortar, and we coated each turkeywith about three inches of the waxy play, feathers and all. Opening ourcamp-fire, we placed the turkeys together, covered them with ashes andbuilt a heaping fire over and around them. A number of haunts had beenlocated by the others, but as we expected to make an early hunt in themorning, we decided not to visit any of the roosts that night. AfterUncle Lance had regaled us with hunting stories of an early day, thediscussion innocently turned to my recent elopement. By this time thescars had healed fairly well, and I took the chaffing in all good humor. Tully told a personal experience, which, if it was the truth, arguedthat in time I might become as indifferent to my recent mishap as anyone could wish. 

"My prospects of marrying a few years ago, " said Tully, lying fullstretch before the fire, "were a whole lot better than yours, Quirk. Butmy ambition those days was to boss a herd up the trail and get top-notchwages. She was a Texas girl, just like yours, bred up in Van ZandtCounty. She could ride a horse like an Indian. Bad horses seemed afraidof her. Why, I saw her once when she was about sixteen, take a blackstallion out of his stable, --lead him out with but a rope about hisneck, --throw a half hitch about his nose, and mount him as though hewas her pet. Bareback and without a bridle she rode him ten miles for adoctor. There wasn't a mile of the distance either but he felt the quirtburning in his flank and knew he was being ridden by a master. Herfather scolded her at the time, and boasted about it later. 

"She had dozens of admirers, and the first impression I ever made on herwas when she was about twenty. There was a big tournament being given, and all the young bloods in many counties came in to contest for theprizes. I was a double winner in the games and contests--won a ropingprize and was the only lad that came inside the time limit as a lancer, though several beat me on rings. Of course the tournament ended with aball. Having won the lance prize, it was my privilege of crowning the'queen' of the ball. Of course I wasn't going to throw away such achance, for there was no end of rivalry amongst the girls over it. Thecrown was made of flowers, or if there were none in season, of live-oakleaves. Well, at the ball after the tournament I crowned Miss Kate witha crown of oak leaves. After that I felt bold enough to crowd matters, and things came my way. We were to be married during Easter week, but her mother up and died, so we put it off awhile for the sake ofappearances. 

"The next spring I got a chance to boss a herd up the trail for JesseEllison. It was the chance of my life and I couldn't think of refusing. The girl put up quite a mouth about it, and I explained to her that ahundred a month wasn't offered to every man. She finally gave in, butstill you could see she wasn't pleased. Girls that way don't sabe cattlematters a little bit. She promised to write me at several points whichI told her the herd would pass. When I bade her good-by, tears stood inher eyes, though she tried to hide them. I'd have gambled my life on herthat morning. 

"Well, we had a nice trip, good outfit and strong cattle. Uncle Jessmounted us ten horses to the man, every one fourteen hands or better, for we were contracted for delivery in Nebraska. It was a five months'drive with scarcely an incident on the way. Just a run or two and a drydrive or so. I had lots of time to think about Kate. When we reachedthe Chisholm crossing on Red River, I felt certain that I would finda letter, but I didn't. I wrote her from there, but when we reachedCaldwell, nary a letter either. The same luck at Abilene. Try as Imight, I couldn't make it out. Something was wrong, but what it was, wasanybody's guess. 

"At this last place we got our orders to deliver the cattle at thejunction of the middle and lower Loup. It was a terror of a long drive, but that wasn't a circumstance compared to not hearing from Kate. I keptall this to myself, mind you. When our herd reached its destination, which it did on time, as hard luck would have it there was a hitch inthe payment. The herd was turned loose and all the outfit but myselfsent home. I stayed there two months longer at a little place calledBroken Bow. I held the bill of sale for the herd, and would turn itover, transferring the cattle from one owner to another, on the wordfrom my employer. At last I received a letter from Uncle Jesse sayingthat the payment in full had been made, so I surrendered the finaldocument and came home. Those trains seemed to run awful slow. But I gothome all too soon, for she had then been married three months. 

"You see an agent for eight-day clocks came along, and being a strangertook her eye. He was one of those nice, dapper fellows, wore a rednecktie, and could talk all day to a woman. He worked by the rule ofthree, --tickle, talk, and flatter, with a few cutes thrown in for apelon; that gets nearly any of them. They live in town now. He's awindmill agent. I never went near them. "

Meanwhile the fire kept pace with the talk, thanks to Uncle Lance'swatchful eye. "That's right, Tiburcio, carry up plenty of good lena, "he kept saying. "Bring in all the black-jack oak that you can find; itmakes fine coals. These are both big gobblers, and to bake them untilthey fall to pieces like a watermelon will require a steady fire tillmorning. Pile up a lot of wood, and if I wake up during the night, trustto me to look after the fire. I've baked so many turkeys this way thatI'm an expert at the business. "

"A girl's argument, " remarked Dan Happersett in a lull of talk, "don't have to be very weighty to fit any case. Anything she does isjustifiable. That's one reason why I always kept shy of women. I admitthat I've toyed around with some of them; have tossed my tug on one ortwo just to see if they would run on the rope. But now generally I keepa wire fence between them and myself if they show any symptoms of beingon the marry. Maybe so I was in earnest once, back on the Trinity. Butit seems that every time that I made a pass, my loop would foul or failto open or there was brush in the way. "

"Just because you have a few gray hairs in your head you think you'reawful foxy, don't you?" said Uncle Lance to Dan. "I've seen lots ofindependent fellows like you. If I had a little widow who knew hercards, and just let her kitten up to you and act coltish, inside a weekyou would he following her around like a pet lamb. "

"I knew a fellow, " said Nancrede, lighting his pipe with a firebrand, "that when the clerk asked him, when he went for a license to marry, ifhe would swear that the young lady--his intended--was over twenty-one, said: 'Yes, by G--, I'll swear that she's over thirty-one. '"

At the next pause in the yarning, I inquired why a wild turkey alwaysdeceived itself by hiding its head and leaving the body exposed. "Thatit's a fact, we all know, " volunteered Uncle Lance, "but the why andwherefore is too deep for me. I take it that it's due to running to necktoo much in their construction. Now an ostrich is the same way, all neckwith not a lick of sense. And the same applies to the human family. Youtake one of these long-necked cowmen and what does he know outside ofcattle. Nine times out of ten, I can tell a sensible girl by merelylooking at her neck. Now snicker, you dratted young fools, just as ifI wasn't talking horse sense to you. Some of you boys haven't got muchmore sabe than a fat old gobbler. "

"When I first came to this State, " said June Deweese, who had beenquietly and attentively listening to the stories, "I stopped over on theNeches River near a place called Shot-a-buck Crossing. I had an uncleliving there with whom I made my home the first few years that I livedin Texas. There are more or less cattle there, but it is principally acotton country. There was an old cuss living over there on that riverwho was land poor, but had a powerful purty girl. Her old man owned anynumber of plantations on the river--generally had lots of niggerrenters to look after. Miss Sallie, the daughter, was the belle ofthe neighborhood. She had all the graces with a fair mixture of theweaknesses of her sex. The trouble was, there was no young man inthe whole country fit to hold her horse. At least she and her folksentertained that idea. There was a storekeeper and a young doctor at thecounty seat, who it seems took turns calling on her. It looked like itwas going to be a close race. Outside of these two there wasn't a one ofus who could touch her with a twenty-four-foot fish-pole. We simply tookthe side of the road when she passed by. 

"About this time there drifted in from out west near Fort McKavett, a young fellow named Curly Thorn. He had relatives living in thatneighborhood. Out at the fort he was a common foreman on a ranch. Talkabout your graceful riders, he sat a horse in a manner that left nothingto be desired. Well, Curly made himself very agreeable with all thegirls on the range, but played no special favorites. He stayed in thecountry, visiting among cousins, until camp meeting began over at theAlabama Camp Ground. During this meeting Curly proved himself quite agallant by carrying first one young lady and the next evening someother to camp meeting. During these two weeks of the meeting, some oneintroduced him to Miss Sallie. Now, remember, he didn't play her for afavorite no more than any other. That's what miffed her. She thought heought to. 

"One Sunday afternoon she intimated to him, like a girl sometimes will, that she was going home, and was sorry that she had no companion for theride. This was sufficient for the gallant Curly to offer himself to heras an escort. She simply thought she was stealing a beau from some othergirl, and he never dreamt he was dallying with Neches River royalty. Butthe only inequality in that couple as they rode away from the ground wasan erroneous idea in her and her folks' minds. And that difference wasin the fact that her old dad had more land than he could pay taxes on. Well, Curly not only saw her home, but stayed for tea--that's the namethe girls have for supper over on the Neches--and that night carried herback to the evening service. From that day till the close of the sessionhe was devotedly hers. A month afterward when he left, it was the talkof the country that they were to be married during the coming holidays. 

"But then there were the young doctor and the storekeeper still in thegame. Curly was off the scene temporarily, but the other two were ridingtheir best horses to a shadow. Miss Sallie's folks were pulling like baysteers for the merchant, who had some money, while the young doctor hadnothing but empty pill bags and a saddle horse or two. The doctor wasthe better looking, and, before meeting Curly Thorn, Miss Sallie hadfavored him. Knowing ones said they were engaged. But near the close ofthe race there was sufficient home influence used for the storekeeper totake the lead and hold it until the show down came. Her folks announcedthe wedding, and the merchant received the best wishes of his friends, while the young doctor took a trip for his health. Well, it developedafterwards that she was engaged to both the storekeeper and the doctorat the same time. But that's nothing. My experience tells me that a girldon't need broad shoulders to carry three or four engagements at thesame time. 

"Well, within a week of the wedding, who should drift in to spendChristmas but Curly Thorn. His cousins, of course, lost no time ingiving him the lay of the land. But Curly acted indifferent, and nevereven offered to call on Miss Sallie. Us fellows joked him about his girlgoing to marry another fellow, and he didn't seem a little bit put out. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the sudden turn as a good joke on himself. But one morning, two days before the wedding was to take place, MissSallie was missing from her home, as was likewise Curly Thorn from theneighborhood. Yes, Thorn had eloped with her and they were married thenext morning in Nacogdoches. And the funny thing about it was, Curlynever met her after his return until the night they eloped. But he hada girl cousin who had a finger in the pie. She and Miss Sallie were asthick as three in a bed, and Curly didn't have anything to do but playthe hand that was dealt him. 

"Before I came to Las Palomas, I was over round Fort McKavett and metCurly. We knew each other, and he took me home and had me stay overnightwith him. They had been married then four years. She had a baby on eachknee and another in her arms. There was so much reality in life thatshe had no time to become a dreamer. Matrimony in that case was a goodleveler of imaginary rank. I always admired Curly for the indifferenthand he played all through the various stages of the courtship. He neverknew there was such a thing as difference. He simply coppered the playto win, and the cards came his way. "

"Bully for Curly!" said Uncle Lance, arising and fixing the fire, as therest of us unrolled our blankets. "If some of my rascals could makea ten strike like that it would break a streak of bad luck which hasovershadowed Las Palomas for over thirty years. Great Scott!--but thosegobblers smell good. I can hear them blubbering and sizzling in theirshells. It will surely take an axe to crack that clay in the morning. But get under your blankets, lads, for I'll call you for a turkeybreakfast about dawn. "

CHAPTER XII

SUMMER OF '77

During our trip into Mexico the fall before, Deweese contracted forthree thousand cows at two haciendas on the Rio San Juan. Early in thespring June and I returned to receive the cattle. The ranch outfitunder Uncle Lance was to follow some three weeks later and camp on theAmerican side at Roma, Texas. We made arrangements as we crossed intoMexico with a mercantile house in Mier to act as our bankers, depositingour own drafts and taking letters of credit to the interior. In buyingthe cows we had designated Mier, which was just opposite Roma, as theplace for settlement and Uncle Lance on his arrival brought draftsto cover our purchases, depositing them with the same merchant. Onreceiving, we used a tally mark which served as a road brand, thuspreventing a second branding, and throughout--much to the disgust of theMexican vaqueros--Deweese enforced every humane idea which Nancrede hadpracticed the spring before in accepting the trail herd at Las Palomas. There were endless quantities of stock cattle to select from on the twohaciendas, and when ready to start, under the specifications, a finerlot of cows would have been hard to find. The worst drawback was thatthey were constantly dropping calves on the road, and before we reachedthe river we had a calf-wagon in regular use. On arriving at the RioGrande, the then stage of water was fortunately low and we crossedthe herd without a halt, the import papers having been attended to inadvance. 

Uncle Lance believed in plenty of help, and had brought down from LasPalomas an ample outfit of men and horses. He had also anticipated thedropping of calves and had rigged up a carrier, the box of which wasopen framework. Thus until a calf was strong enough to follow, themother, as she trailed along beside the wagon, could keep an eye on heroffspring. We made good drives the first two or three days; but afterclearing the first bottoms of the Rio Grande and on reaching thetablelands, we made easy stages of ten to twelve miles a day. When nearenough to calculate on our arrival at Las Palomas, the old ranchero quitus and went on into the ranch. Several days later a vaquero met the herdabout thirty miles south of Santa Maria, and brought the informationthat the Valverde outfit was at the ranch, and instructions to veerwestward and drive down the Ganso on approaching the Nueces. By theseorders the delivery on the home river would occur at least twenty mileswest of the ranch headquarters. 

As we were passing to the westward of Santa Maria, our employer andone of the buyers rode out from that ranch and met the herd. They haddecided not to brand until arriving at their destination on the Devil'sRiver, which would take them at least a month longer. While thisdeviation was nothing to us, it was a gain to them. The purchaser wasdelighted with the cattle and our handling of them, there being fullya thousand young calves, and on reaching their camp on the Ganso, thedelivery was completed--four days in advance of the specified time. Forfear of losses, we had received a few head extra, and, on counting themover, found we had not lost a single hoof. The buyers received theextra cattle, and the delivery was satisfactorily concluded. One of thepartners returned with us to Las Palomas for the final settlement, whilethe other, taking charge of the herd, turned them up the Nueces. Thereceiving outfit had fourteen men and some hundred and odd horses. Asidefrom their commissary, they also had a calf-wagon, drawn by two yoke ofoxen and driven by a strapping big negro. In view of the big calf crop, the partners concluded that an extra conveyance would not be amiss, andon Uncle Lance making them a reasonable figure on our calf-wagon and thefour mules drawing it, they never changed a word but took the outfit. As it was late in the day when the delivery was made, the double outfitremained in the same camp that night, and with the best wishes, badeeach other farewell in the morning. Nearly a month had passed sinceDeweese and I had left Las Palomas for the Rio San Juan, and, returningwith the herd, had met our own outfit at the Rio Grande. During theinterim, before the ranch outfit had started, the long-talked-oftournament on the Nueces had finally been arranged. The date had beenset for the fifth of June, and of all the home news which the outfitbrought down to the Rio Grande, none was as welcome as this. Accordingto the programme, the contests were to include riding, roping, relayraces, and handling the lance. Several of us had never witnessed atournament; but as far as roping and riding were concerned, we allconsidered ourselves past masters of the arts. The relay races weresimple enough, and Dan Happersett volunteered this explanation of alance contest to those of us who were uninitiated:--

"Well, " said Dan, while we were riding home from the Ganso, "a straighttrack is laid off about two hundred yards long. About every forty yardsthere is a post set up along the line with an arm reaching out over thetrack. From this there is suspended an iron ring about two inches indiameter. The contestant is armed with a wooden lance of regulationlength, and as he rides down this track at full speed and within atime limit, he is to impale as many of these rings as possible. Eachcontestant is entitled to three trials and the one impaling the mostrings is declared the victor. That's about all there is to it, exceptthe award. The festivities, of course, close with a dance, in which thewinner crowns the Queen of the ball. That's the reason the girls alwaystake such an interest in the lancing, because the winner has thechoosing of his Queen. I won it once, over on the Trinity, and chosea little cripple girl. Had to do it or leave the country, for it waslooked upon as an engagement to marry. Oh, I tell you, if a girl issweet on a fellow, it's a mighty strong card to play. "

Before starting for the Rio Grande, the old ranchero had worked ourhorse stock, forming fourteen new _manadas_, so that on our return aboutthe only work which could command our attention was the breaking ofmore saddle horses. We had gentled two hundred the spring before, andbreaking a hundred and fifty now, together with the old _remudas_, wouldgive Las Palomas fully five hundred saddle horses. The ranch had thegeldings, the men had time, and there was no good excuse for notgentling more horses. So after a few days' rest the oldest and heaviestgeldings were gathered and we then settled down to routine horse work. But not even this exciting employment could keep the coming tournamentfrom our minds. Within a week after returning to the ranch, we laid offa lancing course, and during every spare hour the knights of Las Palomasmight be seen galloping over the course, practicing. I tried using thelance several times, only to find that it was not as easy as it looked, and I finally gave up the idea of lancing honors, and turned myattention to the relay races. 

Miss Jean had been the only representative of our ranch at Shepherd's onSan Jacinto Day. But she had had her eyes open on that occasion, and onour return had a message for nearly every one of us. I was not expectingany, still the mistress of Las Palomas had met my old sweetheart and hersister, Mrs. Hunter, at the ferry, and the three had talked the matterover and mingled their tears in mutual sympathy. I made a blusteringtalk which was to cover my real feelings and to show that I had grownindifferent toward Esther, but that tactful woman had not lived in vain, and read me aright. 

"Tom, " said she, "I was a young woman when you were a baby. There's lotsof things in which you might deceive me, but Esther McLeod is not one ofthem. You loved her once, and you can't tell me that in less than a yearyou have forgotten her. I won't say that men forget easier than women, but you have never suffered one tenth the heartaches over Esther McLeodthat she has over you. You can afford to be generous with her, Tom. True, she allowed an older sister to browbeat and bully her intomarrying another man, but she was an inexperienced girl then. If youwere honest, you would admit that Esther of her own accord would neverhave married Jack Oxenford. Then why punish the innocent? Oh, Tom, ifyou could only see her now! Sorrow and suffering have developed thewoman in her, and she is no longer the girl you knew and loved. "

Miss Jean was hewing too close to the line for my comfort. Herobservations were so near the truth that they touched me in a vulnerablespot. Yet as I paced the room, I expressed myself emphatically as neverwishing to meet Esther McLeod again. I really felt that way. But I hadnot reckoned on the mistress of Las Palomas, nor considered that herstrong sympathy for my former sweetheart had moved her to more thanordinary endeavor. 

The month of May passed. Uncle Lance spent several weeks at the Boothranch on the Frio. At the home ranch practice for the contests wentforward with vigor. By the first of June we had sifted the candidatesdown until we had determined on our best men for each entry. The oldranchero and our _segundo_, together with Dan Happersett, made up a goodset of judges on our special fitness for the different contests, and wewere finally picked in this order: Enrique Lopez was to rope; PasqualeArispe was to ride; to Theodore Quayle fell the chance of handling thelance, while I, being young and nimble on my feet, was decided on as therider in the ten-mile relay race. 

In this contest I was fortunate in having the pick of over three hundredand fifty saddle horses. They were the accumulation of years of the bestthat Las Palomas bred, and it was almost bewildering to make the finalselection. But in this I had the benefit of the home judges, and whenthe latter differed on the speed of a horse, a trial usually settled thepoint. June Deweese proved to be the best judge of the ranch horses, yetUncle Lance never yielded his opinion without a test of speed. When thehorses were finally decided on, we staked off a half-mile circular trackon the first bottom of the river, and every evening the horses were sentover the course. Under the conditions, a contestant was entitled to useas many horses as he wished, but must change mounts at least twentytimes in riding the ten miles, and must finish under a time limit oftwenty-five minutes. Out of our abundance we decided to use ten mounts, thus allotting each horse two dashes of a half mile with a rest between. 

The horse-breaking ended a few days before the appointed time. LasPalomas stood on the tiptoe of expectancy over the coming tourney. EvenMiss Jean rode--having a gentle saddle horse caught up for her use, andtaking daily rides about the ranch, to witness the practice, for she wasas deeply interested as any of us in the forthcoming contests. Born tothe soil of Texas, she was a horsewoman of no ordinary ability, and rodelike a veteran. On the appointed day, Las Palomas was abandoned; eventhe Mexican contingent joining in the exodus for Shepherd's, and only afew old servants remaining at the ranch. As usual, Miss Jean started byambulance the afternoon before, taking along a horse for her own saddle. The white element and the vaqueros made an early start, driving a_remuda_ of thirty loose horses, several of which were outlaws, and abell mare. They were the picked horses of the ranch--those which weexpected to use in the contests, and a change of mounts for the entireoutfit on reaching the martial field. We had herded the horses the nightbefore, and the vaqueros were halfway to the ferry when we overtookthem. Uncle Lance was with us and in the height of his glory, in onebreath bragging on Enrique and Pasquale, and admonishing and cautioningTheodore and myself in the next. 

On nearing Shepherd's, Uncle Lance preceded us, to hunt up the committeeand enter a man from Las Palomas for each of the contests. The groundhad been well chosen, --a large open bottom on the north side of theriver and about a mile above the ferry. The lancing course was laid off;temporary corrals had been built, to hold about thirty range cattlefor the roping, and an equal number of outlaw horses for the ridingcontests; at the upper end of the valley a half-mile circular racecoursehad been staked off. Throwing our outlaws into the corral, and leavingthe _remuda_ in charge of two vaqueros, we galloped into Shepherd's withthe gathering crowd. From all indications this would be a red-letter dayat the ferry, for the attendance drained a section of country fully ahundred miles in diameter. On the north from Campbellton on the Atascosato San Patricio on the home river to the south, and from the Blanco onthe east to well up the Frio and San Miguel on the west, horsemen wereflocking by platoons. I did not know one man in twenty, but Deweesegreeted them all as if they were near neighbors. Later in the morning, conveyances began to arrive from Oakville and near-by points, and thepresence of women lent variety to the scene. 

Under the rules, all entries were to be made before ten o'clock. Thecontests were due to begin half an hour later, and each contestant wasexpected to be ready to compete in the order of his application. Therewere eight entries in the relay race all told, mine being the seventh, which gave me a good opportunity to study the riding of those whopreceded me. There were ten or twelve entries each in the roping andriding contests, while the knights of the lance numbered an even thirty. On account of the large number of entries the contests would require afull day, running the three classes simultaneously, allowing a slightintermission for lunch. The selection of disinterested judges for eachclass slightly delayed the commencement. After changing horses onreaching the field, the contests with the lance opened with a lad fromRamirena, who galloped over the course and got but a single ring. Fromthe lateness of our entries, none of us would be called until afternoon, and we wandered at will from one section of the field to another. "Red"Earnest, from Waugh's ranch on the Frio, was the first entry in therelay race. He had a good mount of eight Spanish horses which he rodebareback, making many of his changes in less than fifteen secondsapiece, and finishing full three minutes under the time limit. The featwas cheered to the echo, I joining with the rest, and numerous friendlybets were made that the time would not be lowered that day. Two otherriders rode before the noon recess, only one of whom came under the timelimit, and his time was a minute over Earnest's record. 

Miss Jean had camped the ambulance in sight of the field, and kept openhouse to all comers. Suspecting that she would have Mrs. Hunter andEsther for lunch, if they were present, I avoided our party and tookdinner with Mrs. Booth. Meanwhile Uncle Lance detailed Deweese andHappersett to handle my horses, allowing us five vaqueros, anddistributing the other men as assistants to our other three contestants. The day was an ideal one for the contests, rather warm during themorning, but tempered later by a fine afternoon breeze. It was afterfour o'clock when I was called, with Waugh's man still in the lead. Forming a small circle at the starting-point, each of our vaqueros leda pair of horses, in bridles only, around a ring, --constantly having inhand eight of my mount of ten. As handlers, I had two good men in our_segundo_ and Dan Happersett. I crossed the line amid the usual shoutingwith a running start, determined, if possible, to lower the record ofRed Earnest. In making the changes, all I asked was a good grip on themane, and I found my seat as the horse shot away. The horses had brokeninto an easy sweat before the race began, and having stripped to thelowest possible ounce of clothing, I felt that I was getting out of themevery fraction of speed they possessed. The ninth horse in my mount, aroan, for some unknown reason sulked at starting, then bolted out on theprairie, but got away with the loss of only about ten seconds, runningthe half mile like a scared wolf. Until it came the roan's turn to goagain, no untoward incident happened, friendly timekeepers posting meat every change of mounts. But when this bolter's turn came again, hereared and plunged away stiff-legged, crossed the inward furrow, andbefore I could turn him again to the track, cut inside the course fortwo stakes or possibly fifty yards. By this time I was beyond recall, but as I came round and passed the starting-point, the judges attemptedto stop me, and I well knew my chances were over. Uncle Lance promptlywaived all rights to the award, and I was allowed to finish the race, lowering Earnest's time over twenty seconds. The eighth contestant, so Ilearned later, barely came under the time limit. 

The vaqueros took charge of the relay mounts, and, reinvesting myself inmy discarded clothing, I mounted my horse to leave the field, when whoshould gallop up and extend sympathy and congratulations but Miss Jeanand my old sweetheart. There was no avoiding them, and discourtesy tothe mistress of Las Palomas being out of the question, I greeted Estherwith an affected warmth and cordiality. As I released her hand I couldnot help noticing how she had saddened into a serious woman, while thegentleness in her voice condemned me for my attitude toward her. ButMiss Jean artfully gave us little time for embarrassment, inviting me toshow them the unconcluded programme. From contest to contest, we rodethe field until the sun went down, and the trials ended. 

It was my first tournament and nothing escaped my notice. There werefully one hundred and fifty women and girls, and possibly double thatnumber of men, old and young, every one mounted and galloping from onepoint of the field to another. Blushing maidens and their swains droppedout of the throng, and from shady vantage points watched the crowdsurge back and forth across the field of action. We were sorry to missEnrique's roping; for having snapped his saddle horn with the firstcast, he recovered his rope, fastened it to the fork of his saddletree, and tied his steer in fifty-four seconds, or within ten of the winner'srecord. When he apologized to Miss Jean for his bad luck, hat in handand his eyes as big as saucers, one would have supposed he had broughtlasting disgrace on Las Palomas. 

We were more fortunate in witnessing Pasquale's riding. For this contestoutlaws and spoilt horses had been collected from every quarter. Ridersdrew their mounts by lot, and Pasquale drew a cinnamon-colored coyotefrom the ranch of "Uncle Nate" Wilson of Ramirena. Uncle Nate wasfeeling in fine fettle, and when he learned that his contribution tothe outlaw horses had been drawn by a Las Palomas man, he hunted up theranchero. "I'll bet you a new five-dollar hat that that cinnamon horsethrows your vaquero so high that the birds build nests in his crotchbefore he hits the ground. " Uncle Lance took the bet, and disdainfullyran his eye up and down his old friend, finally remarking, "Nate, youought to keep perfectly sober on an occasion like this--you're liable tolose all your money. "

Pasquale was a shallow-brained, clownish fellow, and after saddlingup, as he led the coyote into the open to mount, he imitated a drunkenvaquero. Tipsily admonishing the horse in Spanish to behave himself, hevaulted into the saddle and clouted his mount over the head with hishat. The coyote resorted to every ruse known to a bucking horse tounseat his rider, in the midst of which Pasquale, languidly lollingin his saddle, took a small bottle from his pocket, and, drinking itscontents, tossed it backward over his head. "Look at that, Nate, " saidUncle Lance, slapping Mr. Wilson with his hat; "that's one of the LasPalomas vaqueros, bred with just sense enough to ride anything thatwears hair. We'll look at those new hats this evening. "

In the fancy riding which followed, Pasquale did a number of stunts. He picked up hat and handkerchief from the ground at full speed, andlikewise gathered up silver dollars from alternate sides of his horseas the animal sped over a short course. Stripping off his saddle andbridle, he rode the naked horse with the grace of an Indian, and butfor his clownish indifference and the apparent ease with which he didthings, the judges might have taken his work more seriously. As itwas, our outfit and those friendly to our ranch were proud of hisperformance, but among outsiders, and even the judges, it was generallybelieved that he was tipsy, which was an injustice to him. 

On the conclusion of the contest with the lance, among the thirtyparticipants, four were tied on honors, one of whom was Theodore Quayle. The other contests being over, the crowd gathered round the lancingcourse, excitement being at its highest pitch. A lad from the Blanco wasthe first called for on the finals, and after three efforts failed tomake good his former trial. Quayle was the next called, and as he speddown the course my heart stood still for a moment; but as he returned, holding high his lance, five rings were impaled upon it. He was entitledto two more trials, but rested on his record until it was tied orbeaten, and the next man was called. Forcing her way through the crowdedfield, Miss Jean warmly congratulated Theodore, leaving Esther to mytender care. But at this juncture, my old sweetheart caught sight ofFrances Vaux and some gallant approaching from the river's shade, andtogether we galloped out to meet them. Miss Vaux's escort was a neighborlad from the Frio, but both he and I for the time being were relegatedto oblivion, in the prospects of a Las Palomas man by the name of Quaylewinning the lancing contest. Miss Frances, with a shrug, was for denyingall interest in the result, but Esther and I doubled on her, forcing herto admit "that it would be real nice if Teddy should win. " I never wasso aggravated over the indifference of a girl in my life, and my regardfor my former sweetheart, on account of her enthusiasm for a Las Palomaslad, kindled anew within me. 

[Illustration: HE SPED DOWN THE COURSE]

But as the third man sped over the course, we hastily returned to watchthe final results. After a last trial the man threw down his lance, and, riding up, congratulated Quayle. The last contestant was a red-headedfellow from the Atascosa above Oakville, and seemed to have a host offriends. On his first trial over the course, he stripped four rings, buton neither subsequent effort did he equal his first attempt. Imitatingthe former contestant, the red-headed fellow broke his lance andcongratulated the winner. 

The tourney was over. Esther and I urged Miss Frances to ride over withus and congratulate Quayle. She demurred; but as the crowd scattered Icaught Theodore's eye and, signaling to him, he rode out of the crowdand joined us. The compliments of Miss Vaux to the winner were insipidand lifeless, while Esther, as if to atone for her friend's lack ofinterest, beamed with happiness over Quayle's good luck. Poor Teddyhardly knew which way to turn, and, nice girl as she was, I almost hatedMiss Frances for her indifferent attitude. A plain, blunt fellow thoughhe was, Quayle had noticed the coolness in the greeting of the younglady whom he no doubt had had in mind for months, in case he should winthe privilege, to crown as Queen of the ball. Piqued and unsettled inhis mind, he excused himself on some trivial pretense and withdrew. Every one was scattering to the picnic grounds for supper, and under thepretense of escorting Esther to the Vaux conveyance, I accompanied theyoung ladies. Managing to fall to the rear of Miss Frances and hergallant for the day, I bluntly asked my old sweetheart if she understoodthe attitude of her friend. For reply she gave me a pitying glance, saying, "Oh, you boys know so little about a girl! You see that Teddychooses Frances for his Queen to-night, and leave the rest to me. "

On reaching their picnic camp, I excused myself, promising to meet themlater at the dance, and rode for our ambulance. Tiburcio had supper allready, and after it was over I called Theodore to one side and repeatedEsther's message. Quayle was still doubtful, and I called Miss Jean tomy assistance, hoping to convince him that Miss Vaux was not unfriendlytowards him. "You always want to judge a woman by contraries, " said MissJean, seating herself on the log beside us. "When it comes to acting herpart, always depend on a girl to conceal her true feelings, especiallyif she has tact. Now, from what you boys say, my judgment is that she'dcry her eyes out if any other girl was chosen Queen. "

Uncle Lance had promised Mr. Wilson to take supper with his family, andas we were all sprucing up for the dance, he returned. He had not beenpresent at the finals of the lancing contest, but from guests of theWilsons' had learned that one of his boys had won the honors. So onriding into camp, as the finishing touches were being added to ourrustic toilets, he accosted Quayle and said: "Well, Theo, they tell methat you won the elephant. Great Scott, boy, that's the best luck thathas struck Las Palomas since the big rain a year ago this month! Ofcourse, we all understand that you're to choose the oldest Vaux girl. What's that? You don't know? Well, I do. I've had that all planned out, in case you won, ever since we decided that you was to contest as therepresentative of Las Palomas. And now you want to balk, do you?"

Uncle Lance was showing some spirit, but his sister checked him withthis explanation: "Just because Miss Frances didn't show any enthusiasmover Theo winning, he and Tom somehow have got the idea in their mindsthat she don't care a rap to be chosen Queen. I've tried to explain itto them, but the boys don't understand girls, that's all. Why, if Theowas to choose any other girl, she'd set the river afire. "

"That's it, is it?" snorted Uncle Lance, pulling his gray mustaches. "Well, I've known for some time that Tom didn't have good sense, but Ihave always given you, Theo, credit for having a little. I'll gamble myall that what Jean says is Bible truth. Didn't I have my eye on you andthat girl for nearly a week during the hunt a year ago, and haven't youbeen riding my horses over to the Frio once or twice a month ever since?You can read a brand as far as I can, but I can see that you're as blindas a bat about a girl. Now, young fellow, listen to me: when the masterof ceremonies announces the winners of the day, and your name is called, throw out your brisket, stand straight on those bow-legs of yours, stepforward and claim your privilege. When the wreath is tendered you, accept it, carry it to the lady of your choice, and kneeling before her, if she bids you arise, place the crown on her brow and lead the grandmarch. I'd gladly give Las Palomas and every hoof on it for your yearsand chance. "

The festivities began with falling darkness. The master of ceremonies, a school teacher from Oakville, read out the successful contestants andthe prizes to which they were entitled. The name of Theodore Quayle wasthe last to be called, and excusing himself to Miss Jean, who had him intow, he walked forward with a military air, executing every movement inthe ceremony like an actor. As the music struck up, he and the blushingFrances Vaux, rare in rustic beauty and crowned with a wreath oflive-oak leaves, led the opening march. Hundreds of hands clapped inapproval, and as the applause quieted down, I turned to look for apartner, only to meet Miss Jean and my former sweetheart. Both were in aseventh heaven of delight, and promptly took occasion to remind me ofmy lack of foresight, repeating in chorus, "Didn't I tell you?" But themusic had broken into a waltz, which precluded any argument, and onthe mistress remarking "You young folks are missing a fine dance, "involuntarily my arm encircled my old sweetheart, and we drifted awayinto elysian fields. 

The night after the first tournament at Shepherd's on the Nueces inJune, '77, lingers as a pleasant memory. Veiled in hazy retrospect, attempting to recall it is like inviting the return of childish dreamswhen one has reached the years of maturity. If I danced that night withany other girl than poor Esther McLeod, the fact has certainly escapedme. But somewhere in the archives of memory there is an indeliblepicture of a stroll through dimly lighted picnic grounds; of sitting ona rustic settee, built round the base of a patriarchal live-oak, andlistening to a broken-hearted woman lay bare the sorrows which less thana year had brought her. I distinctly recall that my eyes, though unusedto weeping, filled with tears, when Esther in words of deepest sorrowand contrition begged me to forgive her heedless and reckless act. CouldI harbor resentment in the face of such entreaty? The impulsiveness ofyouth refused to believe that true happiness had gone out of her life. She was again to me as she had been before her unfortunate marriage, andmust be released from the hateful bonds that bound her. Firm in thisresolve, dawn stole upon us, still sitting at the root of the old oak, oblivious and happy in each other's presence, having pledged anew ourtroth for time and eternity. 

With the breaking of day the revelers dispersed. Quite a largecontingent from those present rode several miles up the river with ourparty. The _remuda_ had been sent home the evening before with thereturning vaqueros, while the impatience of the ambulance mulesfrequently carried them in advance of the cavalcade. The mistress of LasPalomas had as her guest returning, Miss Jule Wilson, and the first timethey passed us, some four or five miles above the ferry, I noticed UncleLance ride up, swaggering in his saddle, and poke Glenn Gallup in theribs, with a wink and nod towards the conveyance as the mules dashedpast. The pace we were traveling would carry us home by the middleof the forenoon, and once we were reduced to the home crowd, the oldmatchmaker broke out enthusiastically:--

"This tourney was what I call a success. I don't care a tinker's darnfor the prizes, but the way you boys built up to the girls last nightwarmed the sluggish blood in my old veins. Even if Cotton did claim adance or two with the oldest Vaux girl, if Theo and her don't make theriffle now--well, they simply can't help it, having gone so far. And didany of you notice Scales and old June and Dan cutting the pigeon winglike colts? I reckon Quirk will have to make some new resolutions thismorning. Oh, I heard about your declaring that you never wanted to seeEsther McLeod again. That's all right, son, but hereafter remember thata resolve about a woman is only good for the day it is made, or untilyou meet her. And notice, will you, ahead yonder, that sister of mineplaying second fiddle as a matchmaker. Glenn, if I was you, the nexttime Miss Jule looks back this way, I'd play sick, and maybe they'd letyou ride in the ambulance. I can see at a glance that she's being poorlyentertained. "

CHAPTER XIII

HIDE HUNTING

During the month of June only two showers fell, which revived the grassbut added not a drop of water to our tank supply or to the river. Whenthe coast winds which followed set in, all hope for rain passed foranother year. During the residence of the old ranchero at Las Palomas, the Nueces valley had suffered several severe drouths as disastrousin their effects as a pestilence. There were places in its miles ofmeanderings across our range where the river was paved with the bonesof cattle which had perished with thirst. Realizing that such disastersrepeat themselves, the ranch was set in order. That fall we branded thecalf crop with unusual care. In every possible quarter, we prepared forthe worst. A dozen wells were sunk over the tract and equipped withwindmills. There was sufficient water in the river and tanks during thesummer and fall, but by Christmas the range was eaten off until thecattle, ranging far, came in only every other day to slake their thirst. 

The social gayeties of the countryside received a check from thethreatened drouth. At Las Palomas we observed only the usual Christmasfestivities. Miss Jean always made it a point to have something extrafor the holiday season, not only in her own household, but also amongthe Mexican families at headquarters and the outlying ranchites. Among anumber of delicacies brought up this time from Shepherd's was a box ofFlorida oranges, and in assisting Miss Jean to fill the baskets for each_jacal_, Aaron Scales opened this box of oranges and found a letter, evidently placed there by some mischievous girl in the packery fromwhich the oranges were shipped. There was not only a letter but avisiting card and a small photograph of the writer. This could only beaccepted by the discoverer as a challenge, for the sender surely knewthis particular box was intended for shipment to Texas, and banteringlyinvited the recipient to reply. The missive certainly fell upon fertilesoil, and Scales, by right of discovery, delegated to himself thepleasure of answering. 

Scales was the black sheep of Las Palomas. Born of a rich, aristocraticfamily in Maryland, he had early developed into a good-natured butreckless spendthrift, and his disreputable associates had contributed nosmall part in forcing him to the refuge of a cattle ranch. He had beenoffered every opportunity to secure a good education, but during hislast year in college had been expelled, and rather than face parentalreproach had taken passage in a coast schooner for Galveston, Texas. Then by easy stages he drifted westward, and at last, to his liking, found a home at Las Palomas. He made himself a useful man on the ranch, but, not having been bred to the occupation and with a tendency towaywardness, gave a rather free rein to the vagabond spirit whichpossessed him. He was a good rider, even for a country where everyone was a born horseman, but the use of the rope was an art he neverattempted to master. 

With the conclusion of the holiday festivities and on the return of theabsentees, a feature, new to me in cattle life, presented itself--hidehunting. Freighters who brought merchandise from the coast towns to themerchants of the interior were offering very liberal terms for returncargoes. About the only local product was flint hides, and of thesethere were very few, but the merchant at Shepherd's Ferry offered sogenerous inducements that Uncle Lance investigated the matter; theresult was his determination to rid his range of the old, logy, worthless bulls. Heretofore they had been allowed to die of old age, butten cents a pound for flint hides was an encouragement to remove thesecumberers of the range, and turn them to some profit. So we were orderedto kill every bull on the ranch over seven years old. 

In our round-up for branding, we had driven to the home range alloutside cattle indiscriminately. They were still ranging near, so thatat the commencement of this work nearly all the bulls in our brand werewatering from the Nueces. These old residenter bulls never ranged overa mile away from water, and during the middle of the day they could befound along the river bank. Many of them were ten to twelve years old, and were as useless on the range as drones in autumn to a colony ofhoney-bees. Las Palomas boasted quite an arsenal of firearms, of everymake and pattern, from a musket to a repeater. The outfit was dividedinto two squads, one going down nearly to Shepherd's, and the otherbeginning operations considerably above the Ganso. June Deweese took thedown-river end, while Uncle Lance took some ten of us with one wagon onthe up-river trip. To me this had all the appearance of a picnic. Butthe work proved to be anything but a picnic. To make the kill was mostdifficult. Not willing to leave the carcasses near the river, we usuallysought the bulls coming in to water; but an ordinary charge of powderand lead, even when well directed at the forehead, rarely killed andtended rather to aggravate the creature. Besides, as we were compelledin nearly every instance to shoot from horseback, it was almostimpossible to deliver an effective shot from in front. After one or moreunsuccessful shots, the bull usually started for the nearest thicket, or the river; then our ropes came into use. The work was very slow; forthough we operated in pairs, the first week we did not average a hide aday to the man; after killing, there was the animal to skin, the hide tobe dragged from a saddle pommel into a hide yard and pegged out to dry. 

Until we had accumulated a load of hides, Tiburcio Leal, our teamster, fell to me as partner. We had with us an abundance of our best horses, and those who were reliable with the rope had first choice of the_remuda_. Tiburcio was well mounted, but, on account of his years, wastimid about using a rope; and well he might be, for frequently we foundourselves in a humorous predicament, and sometimes in one so grave thathilarity was not even a remote possibility. 

The second morning of the hunt, Tiburcio and I singled out a big blackbull about a mile from the river. I had not yet been convinced thatI could not make an effective shot from in front, and, dismounting, attracted the bull's attention and fired. The shot did not even staggerhim and he charged us; our horses avoided his rush, and he started forthe river. Sheathing my carbine, I took down my rope and caught himbefore he had gone a hundred yards. As I threw my horse on his haunchesto receive the shock, the weight and momentum of the bull dragged mydouble-cinched saddle over my horse's head and sent me sprawling on theground. In wrapping the loose end of the rope around the pommel of thesaddle, I had given it a half hitch, and as I came to my feet my saddleand carbine were bumping merrily along after Toro. Regaining my horse, Isoon overtook Tiburcio, who was attempting to turn the animal back fromthe river, and urged him to "tie on, " but he hesitated, offering me hishorse instead. As there was no time to waste, we changed horses likerelay riders. I soon overtook the animal and made a successful cast, catching the bull by the front feet. I threw Tiburcio's horse, like awheeler, back on his haunches, and, on bringing the rope taut, fetchedToro to his knees; but with the strain the half-inch manila rope snappedat the pommel like a twine string. Then we were at our wit's end, thebull lumbering away with the second rope noosed over one fore foot, andleaving my saddle far in the rear. But after a moment's hesitation mypartner and I doubled on him, to make trial of our guns, Tiburcio havinga favorite old musket while I had only my six-shooter. Tiburcio, on mystripped horse, overtook the bull first, and attempted to turn him, butEl Toro was not to be stopped. On coming up myself, I tried the sametactics, firing several shots into the ground in front of him butwithout deflecting the enraged bull from his course. Then I unloosed aMexican blanket from Tiburcio's saddle, and flaunting it in his face, led him like a matador inviting a charge. This held his attention untilTiburcio, gaining courage, dashed past him from the rear and planted amusket ball behind the base of his ear, and the patriarch succumbed. 

After the first few days' work, we found that the most vulnerablespot was where the spinal cord connects with the base of the brain. Awell-directed shot at this point, even from a six-shooter, never failedto bring Toro to grass; and some of us became so expert that we coulddeliver this favorite shot from a running horse. The trouble was toget the bull to run evenly. That was one thing he objected to, and yetunless he did we could not advantageously attack him with a six-shooter. Many of these old bulls were surly in disposition, and even when theydid run, there was no telling what moment they would sulk, stop withoutan instant's notice, and attempt to gore a passing horse. 

We usually camped two or three days at a place, taking in both sides ofthe river, and after the work was once well under way we kept our wagonbusy hauling the dry hides to a common yard on the river opposite LasPalomas. Without apology, it can be admitted that we did not confine ourkilling to the Las Palomas brand alone, but all cumberers on our rangemet the same fate. There were numerous stray bulls belonging to distantranches which had taken up their abode on the Nueces, all of which werefish to our net. We kept a brand tally of every bull thus killed; forthe primary motive was not one of profit, but to rid the range of thesedrones. 

When we had been at work some two weeks, we had an exciting chase oneafternoon in which Enrique Lopez figured as the hero. In coming in todinner that day, Uncle Lance told of the chase after a young _ladino_bull with which we were all familiar. The old ranchero's hatred to wildcattle had caused him that morning to risk a long shot at this outlaw, wounding him. Juan Leal and Enrique Lopez, who were there, had bothtried their marksmanship and their ropes on him in vain. Dragging downhorses and snapping ropes, the bull made his escape into a chaparralthicket. He must have been exceedingly nimble; for I have seen UncleLance kill a running deer at a hundred yards with a rifle. At any rate, the entire squad turned out after dinner to renew the attack. We saddledthe best horses in our _remuda_ for the occasion, and sallied forthto the lair of the _ladino_ bull, like a procession of professionalbull-fighters. 

The chaparral thicket in which the outlaw had taken refuge lay about amile and a half back from the river and contained about two acres. Onreaching the edge of the thicket, Uncle Lance called for volunteers tobeat the brush and rout out the bull. As this must be done on foot, responses were not numerous. But our employer relieved the embarrassmentby assigning vaqueros to the duty, also directing Enrique to take onepoint of the thicket and me the other, with instructions to use ourropes should the outlaw quit the thicket for the river. DetailingTiburcio, who was with us that afternoon, to assist him in leading theloose saddle horses, he divided the six other men into two squads underTheodore Quayle and Dan Happersett. When all was ready, Enrique andmyself took up our positions, hiding in the outlying mesquite brush;leaving the loose horses under saddle in the cover at a distance. Thethicket was oval in form, lying with a point towards the river, and weall felt confident if the bull were started he would make for the timberon the river. With a whoop and hurrah and a free discharge of firearms, the beaters entered the chaparral. From my position I could see Enriquelying along the neck of his horse about fifty yards distant; and I hadfully made up my mind to give that bucolic vaquero the first chance. During the past two weeks my enthusiasm for roping stray bulls hadundergone a change; I was now quite willing that all honors of theafternoon should fall to Enrique. The beaters approached without givingany warning that the bull had been sighted, and so great was the strainand tension that I could feel the beating of my horse's heart beneathme. The suspense was finally broken by one or two shots in rapidsuccession, and as the sound died away, the voice of Juan Leal rangout distinctly: "Cuidado por el toro!" and the next moment there was acracking of brush and a pale dun bull broke cover. 

For a moment he halted on the border of the thicket: then, as the din ofthe beaters increased, struck boldly across the prairie for the river. Enrique and I were after him without loss of time. Enrique made asuccessful cast for his horns, and reined in his horse; but when theslack of the rope was taken up the rear cinch broke, the saddle wasjerked forward on the horse's withers, and Enrique was compelled to freethe rope or have his horse dragged down. I saw the mishap, and, givingmy horse the rowel, rode at the bull and threw my rope. The loop neatlyencircled his front feet, and when the shock came between horse andbull, it fetched the toro a somersault in the air, but unhappily tookoff the pommel of my saddle. The bull was on his feet in a jiffy, andbefore I could recover my rope, Enrique, who had reset his saddle, passed me, followed by the entire squad. Uncle Lance had been a witnessto both mishaps, and on overtaking us urged me to tie on to the bullagain. For answer I could only point to my missing pommel; but every manin the squad had loosened his rope, and it looked as if they would allfasten on to the _ladino_, for they were all good ropers. Man after manthrew his loop on him; but the dun outlaw snapped the ropes as if theyhad been cotton strings, dragging down two horses with their riders andleaving them in the rear. I rode up alongside Enrique and offered him myrope, but he refused it, knowing it would be useless to try again withonly a single cinch on his saddle. The young rascal had a daring ideain mind. We were within a quarter mile of the river, and escape of theoutlaw seemed probable, when Enrique rode down on the bull, took up histail, and, wrapping the brush on the pommel of his saddle, turned hishorse abruptly to the left, rolling the bull over like a hoop, and ofcourse dismounting himself in the act. Then before the dazed animalcould rise, with the agility of a panther the vaquero sprang astride hisloins, and as he floundered, others leaped from their horses. Toro waspinioned, and dispatched with a shot. 

Then we loosened cinches to allow our heaving horses to breathe, andthrew ourselves on the ground for a moment's rest. "That's the best killwe'll make on this trip, " said Uncle Lance as we mounted, leavingtwo vaqueros to take the hide. "I despise wild cattle, and I've beenhungering to get a shot at that fellow for the last three years. Enrique, the day the baby is born, I'll buy it a new cradle, and Tomshall have a new saddle and we'll charge it to Las Palomas--she's thegirl that pays the bills. "

Scarcely a day passed but similar experiences were related around thecamp-fire. In fact, as the end of the work came in view, they becamecommonplace with us. Finally the two outfits were united at the generalhide yard near the home ranch. Coils of small rope were brought fromheadquarters, and a detail of men remained in camp, baling the flinthides, while the remainder scoured the immediate country. A crude presswas arranged, and by the aid of a long lever the hides were compressedinto convenient space for handling by the freighters. 

When we had nearly finished the killing and baling, an unlooked-forincident occurred. While Deweese was working down near Shepherd's Ferry, report of our work circulated around the country, and his camp had beenfrequently visited by cattlemen. Having nothing to conceal, hehad showed his list of outside brands killed, which was perfectlysatisfactory in most instances. As was customary in selling cattle, weexpected to make report of every outside hide taken, and settle forthem, deducting the necessary expense. But in every community thereare those who oppose prevailing customs, and some who can always seesinister motives. One forenoon, when the baling was nearly finished, adelegation of men, representing brands of the Frio and San Miguel, rodeup to our hide yard. They were all well-known cowmen, and Uncle Lance, being present, saluted them in his usual hearty manner. In responseto an inquiry--"what he thought he was doing"--Uncle Lance jocularlyreplied:--

"Well, you see, you fellows allow your old bulls to drift down on myrange, expecting Las Palomas to pension them the remainder of theirdays. But that's where you get fooled. Ten cents a pound for flint hidesbeats letting these old stagers die of old age. And this being an idleseason with nothing much to do, we wanted to have a little fun. Andwe've had it. But laying all jokes aside, fellows, it's a good idea toget rid of these old varmints. Hereafter, I'm going to make a killingoff every two or three years. The boys have kept a list of all straybrands killed, and you can look them over and see how many of yours wegot. We have baled all the stray hides separate, so they can be lookedover. But it's nearly noon, and you'd better all ride up to the ranchfor dinner--they feed better up there than we do in camp. "

Rather than make a three-mile ride to the house, the visitors tookdinner with the wagon, and about one o'clock Deweese and a vaquero camein, dragging a hide between them. June cordially greeted the callers, including Henry Annear, who represented the Las Norias ranch, though Isuppose it was well known to every one present that there was no lovelost between them. Uncle Lance asked our foreman for his list of outsidebrands, explaining that these men wished to look them over. Everythingseemed perfectly satisfactory to all parties concerned, and afterremaining in camp over an hour, Deweese and the vaquero saddled freshhorses and rode away. The visitors seemed in no hurry to go, so UncleLance sat around camp entertaining them, while the rest of us proceededwith our work of baling. Before leaving, however, the entire party incompany of our employer took a stroll about the hide yard, which wassome distance from camp. During this tour of inspection, Annear askedwhich were the bales of outside hides taken in Deweese's division, claiming he represented a number of brands outside of Las Norias. Thebales were pointed out and some dozen unbaled hides looked over. On acount the baled and unbaled hides were found to tally exactly with thelist submitted. But unfortunately Annear took occasion to insinuate thatthe list of brands rendered had been "doctored. " Uncle Lance paid littleattention, though he heard, but the other visitors remonstrated withAnnear. This only seemed to make him more contentious. Finally matterscame to an open rupture when Annear demanded that the cordage be cut oncertain bales to allow him to inspect them. Possibly he was within hisrights, but on the Nueces during the seventies, to question a man's wordwas equivalent to calling him a liar; and _liar_ was a fighting word allover the cattle range. 

"Well, Henry, " said Uncle Lance, rather firmly, "if you are notsatisfied, I suppose I'll have to open the bales for you, but before Ido, I'm going to send after June. Neither you nor any one else can castany reflections on a man in my employ. No unjust act can be charged inmy presence against an absent man. The vaqueros tell me that my foremanis only around the bend of the river, and I'm going to ask all yougentlemen to remain until I can send for him. "

John Cotton was dispatched after Deweese. Conversation meanwhile becamepolite and changed to other subjects. Those of us at work baling hideswent ahead as if nothing unusual was on the tapis. The visitors were allarmed, which was nothing unusual, for the wearing of six-shooters was ascommon as the wearing of hoots. During the interim, several level-headedvisitors took Henry Annear to one side, evidently to reason with him andurge an apology, for they could readily see that Uncle Lance was justlyoffended. But it seemed that Annear would listen to no one, and whilethey were yet conversing among themselves, John Cotton and our foremangalloped around the bend of the river and rode up to the yard. No doubtCotton had explained the situation, but as they dismounted Uncle Lancestepped between his foreman and Annear, saying:--

"June, Henry, here, questions the honesty of your list of strays killed, and insists on our cutting the bales for his inspection. " Turning toAnnear, Uncle Lance inquired, "Do you still insist on opening thebales?"

"Yes, sir, I do. "

Deweese stepped to one side of his employer, saying to Annear: "Youoffer to cut a bale here to-day, and I'll cut your heart out. Behind myback, you questioned my word. Question it to my face, you dirty sneak. "

Annear sprang backward and to one side, drawing a six-shooter in themovement, while June was equally active. Like a flash, two shots rangout. Following the reports, Henry turned halfway round, while Deweesestaggered a step backward. Taking advantage of the instant, Uncle Lancesprang like a panther on to June and bore him to the ground, while thevisitors fell on Annear and disarmed him in a flash. They were draggedstruggling farther apart, and after some semblance of sanity hadreturned, we stripped our foreman and found an ugly flesh wound crossinghis side under the armpit, the bullet having been deflected by a rib. Annear had fared worse, and was spitting blood freely, and the marks ofexit and entrance of the bullet indicated that the point of one lung hadbeen slightly chipped. 

"I suppose this outcome is what you might call the _amende honorable_"smilingly said George Nathan, one of the visitors, later to Uncle Lance. "I always knew there was a little bad blood existing between the boys, but I had no idea that it would flash in the pan so suddenly or I'd havestayed at home. Shooting always lets me out. But the question now is, How are we going to get our man home?"

Uncle Lance at once offered them horses and a wagon, in case Annearwould not go into Las Palomas. This he objected to, so a wagon wasfitted up, and, promising to return it the next day, our visitorsdeparted with the best of feelings, save between the two belligerents. We sent June into the ranch and a man to Oakville after a surgeon, andresumed our work in the hide yard as if nothing had happened. SomewhereI have seen the statement that the climate of California was especiallyconducive to the healing of gunshot wounds. The same claim might be madein behalf of the Nueces valley, for within a month both the combatantswere again in their saddles. 

Within a week after this incident, we concluded our work and the hideswere ready for the freighters. We had spent over a month and had takenfully seven hundred hides, many of which, when dry, would weigh onehundred pounds, the total having a value of between five and sixthousand dollars. Like their predecessors the buffalo, the remains ofthe ladinos were left to enrich the soil; but there was no danger of theextinction of the species, for at Las Palomas it was the custom to allowevery tenth male calf to grow up a bull. 

CHAPTER XIV

A TWO YEARS' DROUTH

The spring of '78 was an early one, but the drouth continued, and afterthe hide hunting was over we rode our range almost night and day. Thousands of cattle had drifted down from the Frio River country, whichsection was suffering from drouth as badly as the Nueces. The new wellswere furnishing a limited supply of water, but we rigged pulleys on thebest of them, and when the wind failed we had recourse to buckets and arope worked from the pommel of a saddle. A breeze usually arose aboutten in the morning and fell about midnight. During the lull the bucketsrose and fell incessantly at eight wells, with no lack of sufferingcattle in attendance to consume it as fast as it was hoisted. Manythirsty animals gorged themselves, and died in sight of the well; weakones being frequently trampled to death by the stronger, while flinthides were corded at every watering point. The river had quit flowing, and with the first warmth of spring the pools became rancid andstagnant. In sandy and subirrigated sections, under a March sun, thegrass made a sickly effort to spring; but it lacked substance, and sofar from furnishing food for the cattle, it only weakened them. 

This was my first experience with a serious drouth. Uncle Lance, however, met the emergency as though it were part of the day's work, riding continually with the rest of us. During the latter part of March, Aaron Scales, two vaqueros, and myself came in one night from the Gansoand announced not over a month's supply of water in that creek. We alsoreported to our employer that during our two days' ride, we had skinnedsome ten cattle, four of which were in our own brand. 

"That's not as bad as it might be, " said the old ranchero, philosophically. "You see, boys, I've been through three drouths sinceI began ranching on this river. The second one, in '51, was the worst;cattle skulls were as thick along the Nueces that year as sunflowers inAugust. In '66 it was nearly as bad, there being more cattle; but itdidn't hurt me very much, as mavericking had been good for some timebefore and for several years following, and I soon recovered my losses. The first one lasted three years, and had there been as many cattleas there are now, half of them would have died. The spring before thesecond drouth, I acted as _padrino_ for Tiburcio and his wife, who wasat that time a mere slip of a girl living at the Mission. Before theyhad time to get married, the dry spell set in and they put the weddingoff until it should rain. I ridiculed the idea, but they were bothsuperstitious and stuck it out. And honest, boys, there wasn't enoughrain fell in two years to wet your shirt. In my forty years on theNueces, I've seen hard times, but that drouth was the toughest of themall. Game and birds left the country, and the cattle were too poor toeat. Whenever our provisions ran low, I sent Tiburcio to the coast witha load of hides, using six yoke of oxen to handle a cargo of about aton. The oxen were so poor that they had to stand twice in one placeto make a shadow, and we wouldn't take gold for our flint hides butinsisted on the staples of life. At one point on the road, Tiburcio hadto give a quart of flour for watering his team both going and coming. They say that when the Jews quit a country, it's time for the gentilesto leave. But we old timers are just like a horse that chooses a newrange and will stay with it until he starves or dies with old age. "

I could see nothing reassuring in the outlook. Near the wells and alongthe river the stock had trampled out the grass until the ground was asbare as a city street. Miles distant from the water the old dry grass, with only an occasional green blade, was the only grazing for thecattle. The black, waxy soil on the first bottom of the river, on whichthe mesquite grass had flourished, was as bare now as a ploughed field, while the ground had cracked open in places to an incredible depth, sothat without exercising caution it was dangerous to ride across. Thiswas the condition of the range at the approach of April. Our horsestock, to be sure, fared better, ranging farther and not requiringanything like the amount of water needed by the cattle. It was nothingunusual to meet a Las Palomas _manada_ from ten to twelve miles from theriver, and coming in only every second or third night to quench theirthirst. We were fortunate in having an abundance of saddle horses, which, whether under saddle or not, were always given the preference inthe matter of water. They were the motive power of the ranch, and duringthis crisis, though worked hard, must be favored in every possiblemanner. 

Early that spring the old ranchero sent Deweese to Lagarto in an attemptto sell Captain Byler a herd of horse stock for the trail. The missionwas a failure, though our _segundo_ offered to sell a thousand, in thestraight Las Palomas brand, at seven dollars a head on a year's credit. Even this was no inducement to the trail drover, and on Deweese's returnmy employer tried San Antonio and other points in Texas in the hope offinding a market. From several places favorable replies were received, particularly from places north of the Colorado River; for the drouth waslocal and was chiefly confined to the southern portion of the state. There was enough encouragement in the letters to justify the oldranchero's attempt to reduce the demand on the ranch's water supply, bysending a herd of horse stock north on sale. Under ordinary conditions, every ranchman preferred to sell his surplus stock at the ranch, andLas Palomas was no exception, being generally congested with marketableanimals. San Antonio was, however, beginning to be a local horse andmule market of some moment, and before my advent several small selectedbunches of mares, mules, and saddle horses had been sent there, and hadfound a ready and profitable sale. 

But this was an emergency year, and it was decided to send a herd ofstock horses up the country. Accordingly, before April, we worked every_manada_ which we expected to keep, cutting out all the two-year-oldfillies. To these were added every mongrel-colored band to the number oftwenty odd, and when ready to start the herd numbered a few over twelvehundred of all ages from yearlings up. A _remuda_ of fifty saddlehorses, broken in the spring of '76, were allotted to our use, and our_segundo_, myself, and five Mexican vaqueros were detailed to drivethe herd. We were allowed two pack mules for our commissary, which wasdriven with the _remuda_. With instructions to sell and hurry home, weleft our horse camp on the river, and started on the morning of the lastday of March. 

Live-stock commission firms in San Antonio were notified of our coming, and with six men to the herd and the seventh driving the _remuda_, weput twenty miles behind us the first day. With the exception of waterfor saddle stock, which we hoisted from a well, there was no hope ofwatering the herd before reaching Mr. Booth's ranch on the Frio. Hehad been husbanding his water supply, and early the second evening wewatered the herd to its contentment from a single shaded pool. From theFrio we could not follow any road, but were compelled to direct ourcourse wherever there was a prospect of water. By hobbling the bell mareof the _remuda_ at evening, and making two watches of the night-herding, we easily systematized our work. Until we reached the San Antonio River, about twenty miles below the city, not over two days passed withoutwater for all the stock, though, on account of the variations from ourcourse, we were over a week in reaching San Antonio. Having moved theherd up near some old missions within five or six miles of the city, with an abundance of water and some grass, Deweese went into town, visiting the commission firms and looking for a buyer. Fortunately afirm, which was expecting our arrival, had a prospective purchaser fromFort Worth for about our number. Making a date with the firm to show ourhorses the next morning, our _segundo_ returned to the herd, elated overthe prospect of a sale. 

On their arrival the next morning, we had the horses already watered andwere grazing them along an abrupt slope between the first and secondbottoms of the river. The salesman understood his business, and drovethe conveyance back and forth on the down hill side, below the herd, and the rise in the ground made our range stock look as big as Americanhorses. After looking at the animals for an hour, from a buckboard, theprospective buyer insisted on looking at the _remuda_. But as these weregentle, he gave them a more critical examination, insisting on theirbeing penned in a rope corral at our temporary camp, and had everyhorse that was then being ridden unsaddled to inspect their backs. The_remuda_ was young, gentle, and sound, many of them submitting to becaught without a rope. The buyer was pleased with them, and when theprice came up for discussion Deweese artfully set a high figure on thesaddle stock, and, to make his bluff good, offered to reserve them andtake them back to the ranch. But Tuttle would not consider the herdwithout the _remuda_, and sparring between them continued until allthree returned to town. 

It was a day of expectancy to the vaqueros and myself. In examining thesaddle horses, the buyer acted like a cowman; but as regarding the rangestock, it was evident to me that his armor was vulnerable, and if he gotany the best of our _segundo_ he was welcome to it. Deweese returnedshortly after dark, coming directly to the herd where I and two vaqueroswere on guard, to inform us that he had sold lock, stock, and barrel, including the two pack mules. I felt like shouting over the good news, when June threw a damper on my enthusiasm by the news that he had soldfor delivery at Fort Worth. 

"You see, " said Deweese, by way of explanation, "the buyer is foremanof a cattle company out on the forks of the Brazos in Young County. Hedon't sabe range horses as well as he does cows, and when we had agreedon the saddle stock, and there were only two bits between us on theherd, he offered me six bits a head all round, over and above his offer, if I would put them in Fort Worth, and I took him up so quick that Inearly bit my tongue doing it. Captain Redman tells me that it's onlyabout three hundred miles, and grass and water is reported good. Iintended to take him up at his offer, anyhow, and seventy-five cents ahead extra will make the old man nearly a thousand dollars, which isworth picking up. We'll put them there easy in three weeks, learn thetrail and see the country besides. Uncle Lance can't have any kickcoming, for I offered them to Captain Byler for seven dollars, and hereI'm getting ten six-bits--nearly four thousand dollars' advance, and wewon't be gone five weeks. Any money down? Well, I should remark! Fivethousand deposited with Smith & Redman, and I was particular to have itinserted in the contract between us that every saddle horse, mare, mule, gelding, and filly was to be in the straight 'horse hoof' brand. Thereis a possibility that when Tuttle sees them again at Fort Worth, theywon't look as large as they did on that hillside this morning. "

We made an early start from San Antonio the next morning, passing to thewestward of the then straggling city. The vaqueros were disturbedover the journey, for Fort Worth was as foreign to them as a Europeanseaport, but I jollied them into believing it was but a little _pasear_. Though I had never ridden on a train myself, I pictured to them theluxuriant ease with which we would return, as well as the trip by stageto Oakville. I threw enough enthusiasm into my description of the goodtime we were going to have, coupled with their confidence in Deweese, toconvince them in spite of their forebodings. Our _segundo_ humored themin various ways, and after a week on the trail, water getting plentiful, using two guards, we only herded until midnight, turning the herd loosefrom then until daybreak. It usually took us less than an hour to gatherand count them in the morning, and encouraged by their contentment, afew days later, we loose-herded until darkness and then turned themfree. From then on it was a picnic as far as work was concerned, and oursaddle horses and herd improved every day. 

After crossing the Colorado River, at every available chance en route wemailed a letter to the buyer, notifying him of our progress as we sweptnorthward. When within a day's drive of the Brazos, we mailed our lastletter, giving notice that we would deliver within three days of date. On reaching that river, we found it swimming for between thirty andforty yards; but by tying up the pack mules and cutting the herd intofour bunches, we swam the Brazos with less than an hour's delay. Overhauling and transferring the packs to horses, throwing awayeverything but the barest necessities, we crossed the lightenedcommissary, the freed mules swimming with the _remuda_. On the morningof the twentieth day out from San Antonio, our _segundo_ rode into thefort ahead of the herd. We followed at our regular gait, and near themiddle of the forenoon were met by Deweese and Tuttle, who piloted us toa pasture west of the city, where an outfit was encamped to receive theherd. They numbered fifteen men, and looked at our insignificant crowdwith contempt; but the count which followed showed we had not lost ahoof since we left the Nueces, although for the last ten nights thestock had had the fullest freedom. 

The receiving outfit looked the brands over carefully. The splendidgrass and water of the past two weeks had transformed the famishing herdof a month before, and they were received without a question. Roundingin our _remuda_ for fresh mounts before starting to town, the vaquerosand I did some fancy roping in catching out the horses, partially fromsheer lightness of heart because we were at our journey's end, andpartially to show this north Texas outfit that we were like theproverbial singed cat--better than we looked. Two of Turtle's men rodeinto town with us that evening to lead back our mounts, the outfithaving come in purposely to receive the horse herd and drive it to theirranch in Young County. While riding in, they thawed nicely towards us, but kept me busy interpreting for them with our Mexicans. Tuttle andDeweese rode together in the lead, and on nearing town one of thestrangers bantered Pasquale to sell him a nice maguey rope which thevaquero carried. When I interpreted the other's wish to him, Pasqualeloosened the lasso and made a present of it to Tuttle's man. I hadalmost as good a rope of the same material, which I presented to theother lad with us, and the drinks we afterward consumed over this slighttestimony of the amicable relations existing between a northern andsouthern Texas outfit over the delivery and receiving of a horse herd, showed no evidence of a drouth. The following morning I made inquiry forFrank Nancrede and the drovers who had driven a trail herd of cattlefrom Las Palomas two seasons before. They were all well known about thefort, but were absent at the time, having put up two trail herds thatspring in Uvalde County. Deweese did not waste an hour more than wasnecessary in that town, and while waiting for the banks to open, arranged for our transportation to San Antonio. We were all ready tostart back before noon. Fort Worth was a frontier town at the time, bustling and alert with live-stock interests; but we were anxious to gethome, and promptly boarded a train for the south. After entering thetrain, our _segundo_ gave each of the vaqueros and myself some spendingmoney, the greater portion of which went to the "butcher" for fruits. Hewas an enterprising fellow and took a marked interest in our comfort andwelfare. But on nearing San Antonio after midnight, he attempted to sellus our choice of three books, between the leaves of one of which hehad placed a five-dollar bill and in another a ten, and offered us ourchoice for two dollars, and June Deweese became suddenly interested. Coming over to where we were sitting, he knocked the books on thefloor, kicked them under a seat, and threatened to bend a gun over thebutcher's head unless he made himself very scarce. Then reminding usthat "there were tricks in all trades but ours, " he kept an eye over usuntil we reached the city. 

We were delayed another day in San Antonio, settling with the commissionfirm and banking the money. The next morning we took stage for Oakville, where we arrived late at night. When a short distance out of San AntonioI inquired of our driver who would relieve him beyond Pleasanton, andwas gratified to hear that his name was not Jack Martin. Not that I hadanything particular against Martin, but I had no love for his wife, andhad no desire to press the acquaintance any further with her or herhusband. On reaching Oakville, we were within forty miles of LasPalomas. We had our saddles with us, and early the next morning triedto hire horses; but as the stage company domineered the village we wereunable to hire saddle stock, and on appealing to the only livery in townwe were informed that Bethel & Oxenford had the first claim on theirconveyances. Accordingly Deweese and I visited the offices of thestage company, where, to our surprise, we came face to face with JackOxenford. I do not think he knew us, though we both knew him at aglance. Deweese made known his wants, but only asked for a conveyance asfar as Shepherd's. Yankeelike, Oxenford had to know who we were, wherewe had been, and where we were going. Our _segundo_ gave him rather ashort answer, but finally admitted that we belonged at Las Palomas. Thenthe junior member of the mail contractors became arrogant, claiming thatthe only conveyance capable of carrying our party was being held for asheriff with some witnesses. On second thought he offered to send usto the ferry by two lighter vehicles in consideration of five dollarsapiece, insolently remarking that we could either pay it or walk. I willnot repeat Deweese's reply, which I silently endorsed. 

With the soil of the Nueces valley once more under our feet we feltindependent. On returning to the vaqueros, we found a stranger amongthem, Bernabe Cruze by name, who was a _muy amigo_ of Santiago Ortez, one of our Mexicans. He belonged at the Mission, and when he learned ofour predicament offered to lend us his horse, as he expected to be intown a few days. The offer was gratefully accepted, and within a quarterof an hour Manuel Flores had started for Shepherd's with an order to themerchant to send in seven horses for us. It was less than a two hours'ride to the ferry, and with the early start we expected Manuel to returnbefore noon. Making ourselves at home in a coffeehouse conducted by aMexican, Deweese ordered a few bottles of wine to celebrate properlyour drive and to entertain Cruze and our vaqueros. Before the horsesarrived, those of us who had any money left spent it in the _cantina_, not wishing to carry it home, where it would be useless. The result wasthat on the return of Flores with mounts we were all about three sheetsin the wind, reckless and defiant. 

After saddling up, I suggested to June that we ride by the stage officeand show Mr. Oxenford that we were independent of him. The stage standand office were on the outskirts of the scattered village, and while wecould have avoided it, our _segundo_ willingly led the way, and calledfor the junior member of the firm. A hostler came to the door andinformed us that Mr. Oxenford was not in. 

"Then I'll just leave my card, " said Deweese, dismounting. Taking abrown cigarette paper from his pocket, he wrote his name on it; thenpulling a tack from a notice pasted beside the office door, he drew hissix-shooter, and with it deftly tacked the cigarette paper against theoffice door jamb. Remounting his horse, and perfectly conscious thatOxenford was within hearing, he remarked to the hostler: "When yourboss returns, please tell him that those fellows from Las Palomas willneither walk with him nor ride with him. We thought he might fret as tohow we were to get home, and we have just ridden by to tell him thathe need feel no uneasiness. Since I have never had the pleasure of anintroduction to him, I've put my name on that cigarette paper. Good-day, sir. "

Arriving at Shepherd's, we rested several hours, and on the suggestionof the merchant changed horses before starting home. At the ferry welearned that there had been no serious loss of cattle so far, but thatnearly all the stock from the Frio and San Miguel had drifted across tothe Nueces. We also learned that the attendance on San Jacinto Day hadbeen extremely light, not a person from Las Palomas being present, whilethe tournament for that year had been abandoned. During our ride up theriver before darkness fell, we passed a strange medley of brands, manyof which Deweese assured me were owned from fifty to a hundred miles tothe north and west. Riding leisurely, it was nearly midnight when wesighted the ranch and found it astir. An extra breeze had been blowing, and the vaqueros were starting to their work at the wells in order tobe on hand the moment the wind slackened. Around the two wells atheadquarters were over a thousand cattle, whose constant moaning reachedour ears over a mile from the ranch. 

Our return was like entering a house of mourning. Miss Jean barelygreeted Deweese and myself, while Uncle Lance paced the gallery withoutmaking a single inquiry as to what had become of the horse herd. On themistress's orders, servants set out a cold luncheon, and disappeared, as if in the presence of death, without a word of greeting. Everthoughtful, Miss Jean added several little delicacies to our plain meal, and, seating herself at the table with us, gave us a clear outline ofthe situation. In seventy odd miles of the meanderings of the riveracross our range, there was not a pool to the mile with water enough fora hundred cattle. The wells were gradually becoming weaker, yieldingless water every week, while of four new ones which were commencedbefore our departure, two were dry and worthless. The vaqueros were thenskinning on an average forty dead cattle a day, fully a half of whichwere in the Las Palomas brand. Sympathetically as a sister could, sheaccounted for her brother's lack of interest in our return by hisanxiety and years, and she cautioned us to let no evil report reach hisears, as this drouth had unnerved him. 

Deweese at once resumed his position on the ranch, and the next morningthe ranchero held a short council with him, authorizing him to spareno expense to save the cattle. Deweese returned the borrowed horses byEnrique, and sent a letter to the merchant at the ferry, directing himto secure and send at least twenty men to Las Palomas. The first dayafter our return, we rode the mills and the river. Convinced that tosink other wells on the mesas would be fruitless, the foreman decidedto dig a number of shallow ones in the bed of the river, in the hope ofcatching seepage water. Accordingly the next morning, I was sent witha commissary wagon and seven men to the mouth of the Ganso, withinstructions to begin sinking wells about two miles apart. Takingwith us such tools as we needed, we commenced our first well at theconfluence of the Ganso with the Nueces, and a second one above. Fromtimber along the river we cut the necessary temporary curbing, and putit in place as the wells were sunk. On the third day both wells becameso wet as to impede our work, and on our foreman riding by, he orderedthem curbed to the bottom and a tripod set up over them on which to riga rope and pulley. The next morning troughs and rigging, with a _remuda_of horses and a watering crew of four strange vaqueros, arrived. Thewells were only about twenty feet deep; but by drawing the water as fastas the seepage accumulated, each was capable of watering several hundredhead of cattle daily. By this time Deweese had secured ample help, andstarted a second crew of well diggers opposite the ranch, who workeddown the river while my crew followed some fifteen miles above. Bythe end of the month of May, we had some twenty temporary wells inoperation, and these, in addition to what water the pools afforded, relieved the situation to some extent, though the ravages of death bythirst went on apace among the weaker cattle. 

With the beginning of June, we were operating nearly thirty wells. Insome cases two vaqueros could hoist all the water that accumulated inthree wells. We had a string of camps along the river, and at everywindmill on the mesas men were stationed night and day. Among thecattle, the death rate was increasing all over the range. Frequently wetook over a hundred skins in a single day, while at every camp cords offallen flint hides were accumulating. The heat of summer was upon us, the wind arose daily, sand storms and dust clouds swept across thecountry, until our once prosperous range looked like a desert, witheredand accursed. Young cows forsook their offspring in the hour of theirbirth. Motherless calves wandered about the range, hollow-eyed, theirpiteous appeals unheeded, until some lurking wolf sucked their blood andspread a feast to the vultures, constantly wheeling in great flightsoverhead. The prickly pear, an extremely arid plant, affording both foodand drink to herds during drouths, had turned white, blistered bythe torrid sun until it had fallen down, lifeless. The chaparral wasdestitute of foliage, and on the divides and higher mesas, had died. Thenative women stripped their _jacals_ of every sacred picture, and hungthem on the withered trees about their doors, where they hourly prayedto their patron saints. In the humblest homes on Las Palomas, candlesburned both night and day to appease the frowning Deity. 

The white element on the ranch worked almost unceasingly, stirring theMexicans to the greatest effort. The middle of June passed without adrop of rain, but on the morning of the twentieth, after working allnight, as Pasquale Arispe and I were drawing water from a well on theborder of the encinal I felt a breeze spring up, that started thewindmill. Casting my eyes upward, I noticed that the wind had veered toa quarter directly opposite to that of the customary coast breeze. Notbeing able to read aright the portent of the change in the wind, I hadto learn from that native-born son of the soil: "Tomas, " he cried, riding up excitedly, "in three days it will rain! Listen to me: PasqualeArispe says that in three days the _arroyos_ on the hacienda of DonLancelot will run like a mill-race. See, _companero_, the wind haschanged. The breeze is from the northwest this morning. Before threedays it will rain! Madre de Dios!"

The wind from the northwest continued steadily for two days, relievingus from work. On the morning of the third day the signs in sky and airwere plain for falling weather. Cattle, tottering with weakness, cameinto the well, and after drinking, playfully kicked up their heels onleaving. Before noon the storm struck us like a cloud-burst. Pasqualeand I took refuge under the wagon to avoid the hailstones. In spite ofthe parched ground drinking to its contentment, water flooded under thewagon, driving us out. But we laughed at the violence of the deluge, andafter making everything secure, saddled our horses and set out for home, taking our relay mounts with us. It was fifteen miles to the ranch andin the eye of the storm; but the loose horses faced the rain as if theyenjoyed it, while those under saddle followed the free ones as a hounddoes a scent. Within two hours after leaving the well, we reined in atthe gate, and I saw Uncle Lance and a number of the boys promenading thegallery. But the old ranchero leisurely walked down the pathway to thegate, and amid the downpour shouted to us: "Turn those horses loose;this ranch is going to take a month's holiday. "

CHAPTER XV

IN COMMEMORATION

A heavy rainfall continued the greater portion of two days. None of usventured away from the house until the weather settled, and meantime Iplayed the fiddle almost continuously. Night work and coarse living incamps had prepared us to enjoy the comforts of a house, as well as to dojustice to the well-laden table. Miss Jean prided herself, on specialoccasions and when the ranch had company, on good dinners; but incommemoration of the breaking of this drouth, with none but us boys toshare it, she spread a continual feast. The Mexican contingent were notforgotten by master or mistress, and the ranch supplies in the warehousewere drawn upon, delicacies as well as staples, not only for the_jacals_ about headquarters but also for the outlying ranchitas. Thenative element had worked faithfully during the two years in which norain to speak of had fallen, until the breaking hour, and were notforgotten in the hour of deliverance. Even the stranger vaqueros werecompelled to share the hospitality of Las Palomas like invited guests. 

While the rain continued falling, Uncle Lance paced the gallery almostnight and day. Fearful lest the downpour might stop, he stood guard, noting every change in the rainfall, barely taking time to eat or catchan hour's sleep. But when the grateful rain had continued until theevening of the second day, assuring a bountiful supply of water allover our range, he joined us at supper, exultant as a youth of twenty. "Boys, " said he, "this has been a grand rain. If our tanks hold, we willbe independent for the next eighteen months, and if not another dropfalls, the river ought to flow for a year. I have seen worse drouthssince I lived here, but what hurt us now was the amount of cattle andthe heavy drift which flooded down on us from up the river and north onthe Frio. The loss is nothing; we won't notice it in another year. Ihave kept a close tally of the hides taken, and our brand will be shortabout two thousand, or less than ten per cent of our total numbers. Theywere principally old cows and will not be missed. The calf crop thisfall will be short, but taking it up one side and down the other, we gotoff lucky. "

The third day after the rain began the sun rose bright and clear. Not ahoof of cattle or horses was in sight, and though it was midsummer, thefreshness of earth and air was like that of a spring morning. Every onefelt like riding. While awaiting the arrival of saddle horses, theextra help hired during the drouth was called in and settled with. Twobrothers, Fidel and Carlos Trujillo, begged for permanent employment. They were promising young fellows, born on the Aransas River, and afterconsulting with Deweese Uncle Lance took both into permanent service onthe ranch. A room in an outbuilding was allotted them, and they wereinstructed to get their meals in the kitchen. The _remudas_ had wanderedfar, but one was finally brought in by a vaquero, and by pairs wemounted and rode away. On starting, the tanks demanded our firstattention, and finding all four of them safe, we threw out of gear allthe windmills. Theodore Quayle and I were partners during the day's rideto the south, and on coming in at evening fell in with Uncle Lance andour _segundo_, who had been as far west as the Ganso. Quayle and I haddiscussed during the day the prospect of a hunt at the Vaux ranch, andon meeting our employer, artfully interested the old ranchero regardingthe amount of cat sign seen that day along the Arroyo Sordo. 

"It's hard luck, boys, " said he, "to find ourselves afoot, and thehunting so promising. But we haven't a horse on the ranch that couldcarry a man ten miles in a straightaway dash after the hounds. It willbe a month yet before the grass has substance enough in it to strengthenour _remudas_. Oh, if it hadn't been for the condition of saddle stock, Don Pierre would have come right through the rain yesterday. But whenLas Palomas can't follow the hounds for lack of mounts, you can dependon it that other ranches can't either. It just makes me sick to think ofthis good hunting, but what can we do for a month but fold our hands andsit down? But if you boys are itching for an excuse to get over on theFrio, why, I'll make you a good one. This drouth has knocked all thesociability out of the country; but now the ordeal is past, Theodore isin honor bound to go over to the Vaux ranch. I don't suppose you boyshave seen the girls on the Frio and San Miguel in six months. Time?That's about all we have got right now. Time?--we've got time to burn. "

Our feeler had borne fruit. An excuse or permission to go to the Friowas what Quayle and I were after, though no doubt the old matchmaker wasequally anxious to have us go. In expressing our thanks for the promisedvacation, we included several provisos--in case there was nothing to do, or if we concluded to go--when Uncle Lance turned in his saddle and gaveus a withering look. "I've often wondered, " said he, "if the blood inyou fellows is really red, or if it's white like a fish's. Now, when Iwas your age, I had to steal chances to go to see my girl. But I nevergave her any show to forget me, and worried her to a fare-ye-well. Andif my observation and years go for anything, that's just the way girlslike to have a fellow act. Of course they'll bluff and let on they mustbe wooed and all that, just like Frances did at the tournament a yearago. I contend that with a clear field the only way to make any progressin sparking a girl, is to get one arm around her waist, and with theother hand keep her from scratching you. That's the very way they liketo be courted. "

Theodore and I dropped behind after this lecture, and before we reachedthe ranch had agreed to ride over to the Frio the next morning. Duringour absence that day, there had arrived at Las Palomas from the Mission, a _padrino_ in the person of Don Alejandro Travino. Juana Leal, onlydaughter of Tiburcio, had been sought in marriage by a nephew of DonAlejandro, and the latter, dignified as a Castilian noble, was then atthe house negotiating for the girl's hand. Juana was nearly eighteen, had been born at the ranch, and after reaching years of usefulness hadbeen adopted into Miss Jean's household. To ask for her hand requiredaudacity, for to master and mistress of Las Palomas it was like askingfor a daughter of the house. Miss Jean was agitated and all in aflutter; Tiburcio and his wife were struck dumb; for Juana was the babyand only unmarried one of their children, and to take her from LasPalomas--they could never consent to that. But Uncle Lance had gonethrough such experiences before, and met the emergency with promptness. 

"That's all right, little sister, " said the old matchmaker to Miss Jean, who had come out to the gate where we were unsaddling. "Don't you borrowany trouble in this matter--leave things to me. I've handled trifleslike this among these natives for nearly forty years now, and I don'tsee any occasion to try and make out a funeral right after the drouth'sbeen broken by a fine rain. Shucks, girl, this is a time for rejoicing!You go back in the house and entertain Don Alejandro with your bestsmiles till I come in. I want to have a talk with Tiburcio and his wifebefore I meet the _padrino_. There's several families of those Travinosover around the Mission and I want to locate which tribe this _oso_comes from. Some of them are good people and some of them need a ropearound their necks, and in a case of keeps like getting married, it'salways safe to know what's what and who's who. Now, Sis, go on back inthe house and entertain the Don. Come with me, Tom. "

I saw our plans for the morrow vanish into thin air. On arriving at thejacal, we were admitted, but a gloom like the pall of death seemed toenvelop the old Mexican couple. When we had taken seats around a smalltable, Tia Inez handed the ranchero the formal written request. As itwas penned in Spanish, it was passed to me to read, and after runningthrough it hastily, I read it aloud, several times stopping to interpretto Uncle Lance certain extravagant phrases. The salutatory was in theusual form; the esteem which each family had always entertained for theother was dwelt upon at length, and choicer language was never used thanthe _padrino_ penned in asking for the hand of Doņa Juana. This daintymissive was signed by the godfather of the swain, Don Alejandro Travino, whose rubric riotously ran back and forth entirely across the delicatelytinted sheet. On the conclusion of the reading, Uncle Lance brushed theletter aside as of no moment, and, turning to the old couple, demandedto know to which branch of the Travino family young Don Blas belonged. 

The account of Tiburcio and his wife was definite and clear. The fatherof the swain conducted a small country store at the Mission, and besideshad landed and cattle interests. He was a younger brother of DonAlejandro, who was the owner of a large land grant, had cattle inabundance, and was a representative man among the Spanish element. Nobetter credentials could have been asked. But when their patron ralliedthem as to the cause of their gloom, Tia Inez burst into tears, admitting the match was satisfactory, but her baby would be carried awayfrom Las Palomas and she might never see her again. Her two sons wholived at the ranch, allowed no day to pass without coming to see theirmother, and the one who lived at a distant ranchita came at everyopportunity. But if her little girl was carried away to a distantranch--ah! that made it impossible! Let Don Lance, worthy patron of hispeople, forbid the match, and win the gratitude of an anguished mother. Invoking the saints to guide her aright, Doņa Inez threw herself on thebed in hysterical lamentation. Realizing it is useless to argue with awoman in tears, the old matchmaker suggested to Tiburcio that we delaythe answer the customary fortnight. 

Promising to do nothing further without consulting them, we withdrewfrom the _jacal_. On returning to the house, we found Miss Jeanentertaining the Don to the best of her ability, and, commanding mypresence, the old matchmaker advanced to meet the _padrino_, with whomhe had a slight acquaintance. Bidding his guest welcome to the ranch, helistened to the Don's apology for being such a stranger to Las Palomasuntil a matter of a delicate nature had brought him hither. 

Don Alejandro was a distinguished-looking man, and spoke his nativetongue in a manner which put my efforts as an interpreter to shame. The conversation was allowed to drift at will, from the damages of therecent drouth to the prospect of a market for beeves that fall, untilsupper was announced. After the evening repast was over we retired tothe gallery, and Uncle Lance reopened the matchmaking by inquiring ofDon Alejandro if his nephew proposed taking his bride to the Mission. The Don was all attention. Fortunately, anticipating that the questionmight arise, he had discussed that very feature with his nephew. Atpresent the young man was assisting his father at the Mission, and intime, no doubt, would succeed to the business. However, realizing thather living fifty miles distant might be an objection to the girl'sparents, he was not for insisting on that point, as no doubt Las Palomasoffered equally good advantages for business. He simply mentioned thisby way of suggestion, and invited the opinion of his host. 

"Well, now, Don Alejandro, " said the old matchmaker, in flutelike tones, "we are a very simple people here at Las Palomas. Breeding a few horsesand mules for home purposes, and the rearing of cattle has beenour occupation. As to merchandising here at the ranch, I could notcountenance it, as I refused that privilege to the stage company whenthey offered to run past Las Palomas. At present our few wants aresupplied by a merchant at Shepherd's Ferry. True, it's thirty miles, butI sometimes wish it was farther, as it is quite a temptation to my boysto ride down there on various pretexts. We send down every week for ourmail and such little necessities as the ranch may need. If there wasa store here, it would attract loafers and destroy the peace andcontentment which we now enjoy. I would object to it; 'one man to histrade and another to his merchandise. '"

The _padrino_, with good diplomacy, heartily agreed that a store was adisturbing feature on a ranch, and instantly went off on a tangent onthe splendid business possibilities of the Mission. The matchmaker inreturn agreed as heartily with him, and grew reminiscent. "In the springof '51, " said he, "I made the match between Tiburcio and Doņa Inez, father and mother of Juana. Tiburcio was a vaquero of mine at the time, Inez being a Mission girl, and I have taken a great interest in thecouple ever since. All their children were born here and still live onthe ranch. Understand, Don Alejandro, I have no personal feeling in thematter, beyond the wishes of the parents of the girl. My sister hastaken a great interest in Juana, having had the girl under her chargefor the past eight years. Of course, I feel a pride in Juana, and she isa fine girl. If your nephew wins her, I shall tell the lucky rascal whenhe comes to claim her that he has won the pride of Las Palomas. I takeit, Don Alejandro, that your visit and request was rather unexpectedhere, though I am aware that Juana has visited among cousins at theMission several times the past few years. But that she had lost herheart to some of your gallants comes as a surprise to me, and from whatI learn, to her parents also. Under the circumstances, if I were you, Iwould not urge an immediate reply, but give them the customary period tothink it over. Our vaqueros will not be very busy for some time to come, and it will not inconvenience us to send a reply by messenger to theMission. And tell Don Blas, even should the reply be unfavorable, not tobe discouraged. Women, you know, are peculiar. Ah, Don Alejandro, whenyou and I were young and went courting, would we have been discouragedby a first refusal?"

Seņor Travino appreciated the compliment, and, with a genial smile, slapped his host on the back, while the old matchmaker gave vent to avociferous guffaw. The conversation thereafter took several tacks, butalways reverted to the proposed match. As the hour grew late, the hostapologized to his guest, as no doubt he was tired by his long ride, and offered to show him his room. The _padrino_ denied all weariness, maintaining that the enjoyable evening had rested him, but reluctantlyallowed himself to be shown to his apartment. No sooner were thegood-nights spoken, than the old ranchero returned, and, snapping hisfingers for attention, motioned me to follow. By a circuitous route wereached the _jacal_ of Tiburcio. The old couple had not yet retired, andJuana blushingly admitted us. Uncle Lance jollied the old people like arobust, healthy son amusing his elders. We took seats as before aroundthe small table, and Uncle Lance scattered the gloom of the _jacal_ withhis gayety. 

"Las Palomas forever!" said he, striking the table with his bony fist. "This _padrino_ from the Mission is a very fine gentleman but a poormatchmaker. Just because young Don Blas is the son of a Travino, thekeeper of a picayune _tienda_ at the Mission, was that any reason topresume for the hand of a daughter of Las Palomas? Was he any betterthan a vaquero just because he doled out _frijoles_ by the quart, andnever saw a piece of money larger than a _media real_? Why, a LasPalomas vaquero was a prince compared to a fawning attendant in aMission store. Let Tia Inez stop fretting herself about losing Juana--itwould not be yet awhile. Just leave matters to him, and he'd send DonAlejandro home, pleased with his visit and hopeful over the match, evenif it never took place. And none of those frowns from the young lady!"

As we all arose at parting, the old matchmaker went over to Juana and, shaking his finger at her, said: "Now, look here, my little girl, yourmistress, your parents, and myself are all interested in you, and don'tthink we won't act for your best interests. You've seen this youngfellow ride by on a horse several times, haven't you? Danced with hima few times under the eyes of a chaperon at the last _fiesta_, haven'tyou? And that's all you care to know, and are ready to marry him. Well, well, it's fortunate that the marriage customs of the Mexicans protectsuch innocents as you. Now, if young Don Blas had worked under me for ayear as a vaquero, I might be as ready to the match as you are; for thenI'd know whether he was worthy of you. What does a girl of your age knowabout a man? But when you have as many gray hairs in your head as yourmother has, you'll thank me for cautioning every one to proceed slowlyin this match. Now dry those tears and go to your mother. "

The next morning Don Alejandro proposed returning to the Mission. Butthe old ranchero hooted the idea, and informed his guest that hehad ordered the ambulance, as he intended showing him the recentimprovements made on Las Palomas. When the guest protested against alonger absence from home, the host artfully intimated that by remaininganother day a favorable reply might possibly go with him. Don Alejandrofinally consented. I was pressed in as driver and interpreter, and ourteam tore away from the ranch with a flourish. To put it mildly, I wasdisgusted at having my plans for the day knocked in the head, yet knewbetter than protest. As we drove along, myriads of grass-blades werepeeping up since the rain, giving every view a greenish cast. Nearlyevery windmill on the ranch on our circuit was pointed out, and wepassed three of our four tanks, one of which was over half a mile inlength. After stopping at an outlying ranchita for refreshment, we spentthe afternoon in a similar manner. From a swell of the prairie some tenmiles to the westward of the ranch, we could distinctly see an outlineof the Ganso. Halting the ambulance, the old ranchero pointed out to hisguest the meanderings of that creek from its confluence with the parentstream until it became lost in the hills to the southward. 

"That tract of ground, " said he, "is my last landed addition to LasPalomas. It lies north and south, giving me six miles' frontage onthe Nueces. And extending north of the river about four miles, DonAlejandro, when I note the great change which has come over this valleysince I settled here, it convinces me that if one wishes to followranching he had better acquire title to what range he needs. Land hasadvanced in price from a few cents an acre to four bits, and now theysay the next generation will see it worth a dollar. This Ganso grantcontains a hundred and fourteen sections, and I have my eye on one ortwo other adjoining tracts. My generation will not need it, but the onewho succeeds me may. Now, as we drive home, I'll try to show you thenorthern boundary of our range; it's fairly well outlined by the dividebetween the Nueces and the Frio rivers. "

From the conversation which followed until we reached headquarters, Ireadily understood that the old matchmaker was showing the rose andconcealing its thorn. His motive was not always clear to me, for onewould have supposed from his almost boastful claims regarding itsextent and carrying capacity for cattle, he was showing the ranch to aprospective buyer. But as we neared home, the conversation innocentlydrifted to the Mexican element and their love for the land to which theywere born. Then I understood why I was driving four mules instead ofbasking in the smiles of my own sweetheart on the San Miguel. Nor didthis boasting cease during the evening, but alternated from lands andcattle to the native people, and finally centred about a Mexican girlwho had been so fortunate as to have been born to the soil of LasPalomas. 

When Don Alejandro asked for his horse the following morning on leaving, Uncle Lance, Quayle, and myself formed a guard of honor to escort ourguest a distance on his way. He took leave of the mistress of LasPalomas in an obeisance worthy of an old-time cavalier. Once we wereoff, Uncle Lance pretended to have had a final interview with theparents, in which they had insisted on the customary time in which toconsider the proposal. The _padrino_ graciously accepted the situation, thanking his host for his interest in behalf of his nephew. On reachingthe river, where our ways separated, all halted for a few minutes atparting. 

"Well, Don Alejandro, " said the old ranchero, "this is my limit ofescort to guests of the ranch. Now, the only hope I have in partingis, in case the reply should he unfavorable, that Don Blas will not bediscouraged and that we may see you again at Las Palomas. Tender mycongratulations to your nephew, and tell him that a welcome alwaysawaits him in case he finds time and inclination to visit us. I takesome little interest in matches. These boys of mine are going northto the Frio on a courting errand to-day. But our marriage customs areinferior to yours, and our young people, left to themselves, don't seemto marry. Don Alejandro, if you and I had the making of the matches, there'd be a cradle rocking in every _jacal_. " Both smiled, said their"Adios, amigos, " and he was gone. 

As our guest cantered away, down the river road, Quayle and I beganlooking for a ford. The river had been on a rampage, and while we wereseeking out a crossing our employer had time for a few comments. "TheDon's tickled with his prospects. He thinks he's got a half inch rope onJuana right now; but if I thought your prospects were no better than Iknow his are, you wouldn't tire any horse-flesh of mine by riding to theFrio and the San Miguel. But go right on, and stay as long as you wantto, for I'm in no hurry to see your faces again. Tom, with the icebroken as it is, as soon as Esther can remove her disabilities--well, you won't have to run off the next time. And Theodore, remember whatI told you the other day about sparking a girl. You're too timid andbackward for a young fellow. I don't care if you come home with one eyescratched out, just so you and Frances have come to an understanding andnamed the day. "

CHAPTER XVI

MATCHMAKING

After our return to the Frio, my first duty was writing, relative to theproposed match, an unfavorable reply to Don Alejandro Travino. 

On resuming work, we spent six weeks baling hides, thus occupying ourtime until the beginning of the branding season. A general round-up ofthe Nueces valley, commencing on the coast at Corpus Christi Bay, hadbeen agreed upon among the cowmen of the country. In pursuance of theplan four well-mounted men were sent from our ranch with Wilson's wagonto the coast, our _segundo_ following a week later with the wagon, _remuda_ and twelve men, to meet the rodeo at San Patricio as theyworked up the river. Our cattle had drifted in every direction duringthe drouth and though many of them had returned since the range hadagain become good, they were still widely scattered. So Uncle Lance tookthe rest of us and started for the Frio, working down that river andalong the Nueces, until we met the round-up coming up from below. Duringthis cow hunt, I carried my fiddle with me in the wagon, and at nearlyevery ranch we passed we stopped and had a dance. Not over once a weekdid we send in cattle to the ranch to brand, and on meeting the rodeofrom below, Deweese had over three thousand of our cattle. After takingthese in and branding the calves, we worked over our home range untilnear the holidays. 

On our return to the ranch, we learned that young Blas Travino fromthe Mission had passed Las Palomas some days before. He had stopped inpassing; but, finding the ranchero absent, plead a matter of business atSanta Maria, promising to call on his return. He was then at the ranchon the Tarancalous, and hourly expecting his reappearance, the women ofthe household were in an agitated state of mind. Since the formal answerhad been sent, no word had come from Don Blas and a rival had meanwhilesprung up in the person of Fidel Trujillo. Within a month after hisemployment I noticed the new vaquero casting shy glances at Juana, butuntil the cow hunt on the Frio I did not recognize the fine handwritingof the old matchmaker. Though my services were never called for asinterpreter between Uncle Lance and the new man, any one could see therewas an understanding between them. That the old ranchero was pushingFidel forward was evident during the fall cow hunting by his sendingthat Mexican into Las Palomas with every bunch of cattle gathered. 

That evening Don Blas rode into the ranch, accompanied by FatherNorquin. The priest belonged at the Mission, and their meeting at SantaMaria might, of course, have been accidental. None of the padre'sparishioners at headquarters were expecting him, however, for severalmonths, and padres are able _padrinos_, --sometimes, among their ownfaith, even despotic. Taking account, as it appeared, of the ulteriormotive, Uncle Lance welcomed the arrivals with a hearty hospitality, which to a stranger seemed so genuine as to dispel any suspicion. Notin many a day had a visitor at Las Palomas received more courteousconsideration than did Father Norquin. The choicest mint which grew inthe inclosures about the wells was none too good for the juleps whichwere concocted by Miss Jean. Had the master and mistress of the ranchbeen communicants of his church, the rosy-cheeked padre could havereceived no more marked attention. 

The conversation touched lightly on various topics, until Santa Mariaranch was mentioned, when Uncle Lance asked the padre if Don Mateo hadyet built him a chapel. The priest shrugged his shoulders deprecatinglyand answered the question with another, --when Las Palomas proposedbuilding a place of worship. 

"Well, Father, I'm glad you've brought the matter up again, " replied thehost. "That I should have lived here over forty years and never doneanything for your church or my people who belong to your faith, iscertainly saying little in my behalf. I never had the matter broughthome to me so clearly as during last summer's drouth. Do you rememberthat old maxim regarding when the devil was sick? Well, I was good andsick. If you had happened in then and had asked for a chapel, --not thatI have any confidence in your teaching, --you could have got a churchwith a steeple on it. I was in such sore straits that the women werekept busy making candles, and we burnt them in every _jacal_ until thehour of deliverance. "

Helping himself from the proffered snuffbox of the padre, the hostturned to his guest, and in all sincerity continued: "Yes, Father, Iought to build you a nice place of worship. We could quarry the rockduring idle time, and burn our own lime right here on the ranch. Whileyou are here, give me some plans, and we'll show you that the whiteelement of Las Palomas are not such hopeless heretics as you suppose. Now, if we build the chapel, I'm just going to ask one favor in return:I expect to die and be buried on this ranch. You're a younger man bytwenty years and will outlive me, and on the day of my burial I wantyou to lay aside your creed and preach my funeral in this little chapelwhich you and I are going to build. I have been a witness to theself-sacrifice of you and other priests ever since I lived here. Father, I like an honest man, and the earnestness of your cloth for thebetterment of my people no one can question. And my covenant is, thatyou are to preach a simple sermon, merely commemorating the fact thathere lived a man named Lovelace, who died and would be seen among hisfellow men no more. These being facts, you can mention them; but beyondthat, for fear our faiths might differ, the less said the better. Won'tyou have another mint julep before supper? No? You will, won't you, DonBlas?"

That the old ranchero was in earnest about building a chapel on LasPalomas there was no doubt. In fact, the credit should be given to MissJean, for she had been urging the matter ever since my coming to theranch. At headquarters and outlying ranchitas on the land, there werenearly twenty families, or over a hundred persons of all ages. But thatthe old matchmaker was going to make the most out of his opportunity byerecting the building at an opportune time, there was not the shadow ofa question. 

The evening passed without mention of the real errand of our guests. Theconversation was allowed to wander at will, during which several timesit drifted into gentle repartee between host and padre, both artfullyavoiding the rock of matchmaking. But the next morning, as if anxious tobegin the day's work early, Father Norquin, on arising, inquired forhis host, strutted out to the corrals, and, on meeting him, promptlyinquired why, during the previous summer, Don Alejandro Travino'smission to obtain the hand of Juana Leal had failed. 

"That's so, " assented Uncle Lance, very affably, "Don Alejandro was hereas godfather to his nephew. And this young man with you is Don Blas, the bear? Well, why did we waste so much time last night talking aboutchapels and death when we might have made a match in less time? Youpriests have everything in your favor as _padrinos_, but you are so slowthat a rival might appear and win the girl while you were drumming upyour courage. I don't write Spanish myself, but I have boys here on theranch who do. One of them, if I remember rightly, wrote the answer atthe request of Juana's mother. If my memory hasn't failed me entirely, the parents objected to being separated from their only daughter. Youknow how that is among your people; and I never like to interfere infamily matters. But from what I hear Don Blas has a rival now. Yes;young Travino failed to press his suit, and a girl will stand for nearlyanything but neglect. But that's one thing they won't stand for, notwhen there's a handsome fellow at hand to play the bear. Then the oldlover is easily forgotten for the new. Eh, Father?"

"Ah, Don Lance, I know your reputation as a matchmaker, " replied FatherNorquin, in a rich French accent. "Report says had you not had a hand init the match would have been successful. The supposition is that it onlylacked your approval. The daughter of a vaquero refusing a Travino? Tut, tut, man!"

A hearty guffaw greeted these aspersions. "And so you've heard I was amatchmaker, have you? Of course, you believed it just like any other oldgranny. Now, of course, when I'm asked by any of my people to act as_padrino_, I never refuse any more than you do. I've made many a matchand hope to be spared to make several more. But come; they're calling usto breakfast, and after that we'll take a walk over to the ranch buryingground. It's less than a half mile--in that point of encinal yonder. Iwant to show you what I think would be a nice spot for our chapel. "

The conversation during breakfast was artfully directed by the host toavoid the dangerous shoals, though the padre constantly kept an eye onJuana as she passed back and forth. As we arose from the table and werepassing to the gallery, Uncle Lance nudged the priest, and, poking DonBlas in the ribs, said: "Isn't Juana a stunning fine cook? Got up thatbreakfast herself. There isn't an eighteen-year-old girl in Texas whocan make as fine biscuits as she does. But Las Palomas raises just asfine girls as she does horses and cattle. The rascal who gets her fora wife can thank his lucky stars. Don Blas, you ought to have me for_padrino_. Your uncle and the padre here are too poky. Why, if I wasmaking a match for as fine a girl as Juana is, I'd set the river afirebefore I'd let an unfavorable answer discourage me. Now, the padre andI are going for a short walk, and we'll leave you here at the house towork out your own salvation. Don't pay any attention to the mistress, and I want to tell you right now, if you expect to win Juana, neverdepend on old fogy _padrinos_ like your uncle and Father Norquin. Do alittle hustling for yourself. "

The old ranchero and the priest were gone nearly an hour, and on theirreturn looked at another site in the rear of the Mexican quarters. Itwas a pretty knoll, and as the two joined us where we were repairing awindmill at the corrals, Father Norquin, in an ecstasy of delight, said:"Well, my children, the chapel is assured at Las Palomas. Don Lancewanted to build it over in the encinal, with twice as nice a site righthere in the rancho. We may need the building for a school some day, and if we should, we don't want it a mile away. The very idea! And themaster tells me that a chapel has been the wish of his sister for years. Poor woman--to have such a brother. I must hasten to the house and thankher. "

No sooner had the padre started than I was called aside by my employer. "Tom, " said he, "you slip around to Tia Inez's _jacal_ and tell her thatI'm going to send Father Norquin over to see her. Tell her to stand firmon not letting Juana leave the ranch for the Mission. Tell her that I'vepromised the padre a chapel for Las Palomas, and rather than miss it, the priest would consign the whole Travino family to endless perdition. Tell her to laugh at his scoldings and inform him that Juana can get ahusband without going so far. And that you heard me say that I was goingto give Fidel, the day he married her daughter, the same number ofheifers that all her brothers got. Impress it on Tia Inez's mind that itmeans something to be born to Las Palomas. "

I set out on my errand and he hastened away to overtake the padrebefore the latter reached the house. Tia Inez welcomed me, no doubtanticipating that I was the bearer of some message. When I gave her themessage her eyes beamed with gratitude and she devoutly crossed herbreast invoking the blessing of the saints upon the master. I added afew words of encouragement of my own--that I understood that when wequarried the rock for the chapel, there was to be enough extra cut tobuild a stone cottage for Juana and Fidel. This was pure invention on mypart, but I felt a very friendly interest in Las Palomas, for I expectedto bring my bride to it as soon as possible. Therefore, if I could helpthe present match forward by the use of a little fiction, why not?

Father Norquin's time was limited at Las Palomas, as he was underappointment to return to Santa Maria that evening. Therefore it becamean active morning about the ranch. Long before we had finished therepairs on the windmill, a _mozo_ from the house came out to the corralsto say I was wanted by the master. Returning with the servant, I foundUncle Lance and the mistress of the ranch entertaining their companybefore a cheerful fire in the sitting-room. On my entrance, my employersaid:--

"Tom, I have sent for you because I want you to go over with the padreto the _jacal_ of Juana's parents. Father Norquin here is such an oldgranny that he believes I interfered, or the reply of last summer wouldhave been favorable. Now, Tom, you're not to open your mouth one wayor the other. The padre will state his errand, and the old couple willanswer him in your presence. Don Blas will remain here, and whatever theanswer is, he and I must abide by it. Really, as I have said, I haveno interest in the match, except the welfare of the girl. Go on now, Father, and let's see what you can do as a _padrino_. "

As we arose to go, Miss Jean interposed and suggested that, out ofdeference to Father Norquin, the old couple be sent for, but her brotherobjected. He wanted the parents to make their own answer beneath theirown roof, unembarrassed by any influence. As we left the room, the oldmatchmaker accompanied us as far as the gate, where he halted and saidto the padre:--

"Father Norquin, in a case like the present, you will not mind my sayingthat your wish is not absolute, and I am sending a witness with you tosee that you issue no peremptory orders on this ranch. And remember, that this old couple have been over thirty years in my employ, andtemper your words to them as you would to your own parents, were theyliving. Juana was born here, which means a great deal, and with theapproval of her parents, she'll marry the man of her choice, and no_padrino_, let him be priest or layman, can crack his whip on the soilof Las Palomas to the contrary. As my guest, you must excuse me fortalking so plain, but my people are as dear to me as your church is toyou. "

As my employer turned and leisurely walked back to the house, FatherNorquin stood stock-still. I was slightly embarrassed myself, but it waseasily to be seen that the padre's plans had received a severe shock. Imade several starts toward the Mexican quarters before the priest shookaway his hesitations and joined me. That the old ranchero's words hadagitated him was very evident in his voice and manner. Several times hestopped me and demanded explanations, finally raising the question of arival. I told him all I knew about the matter; that Fidel, a new vaqueroon the ranch, had found favor in Juana's eyes, that he was a favoriteman with master and mistress, but what view the girl's parents tookof the matter I was unable to say. This cleared up the situationwonderfully, and the padre brightened as we neared the _jacal_. 

Tiburcio was absent, and while awaiting his return, the priest becameamiable and delivered a number of messages from friends and relatives atthe Mission. Tia Inez was somewhat embarrassed at first, but graduallygrew composed, and before the return of her husband all three of us werechatting like cronies. On the appearance of Tio Tiburcio, coffee wasordered and the padre told several good stories, over which we alllaughed heartily. Cigarettes were next, and in due time Father Norquinvery good naturedly inquired why an unfavorable answer, regarding themarriage of their daughter with young Blas Travino, had been returnedthe previous summer. The old couple looked at each other a moment, whenthe husband turned in his chair, and with a shrug of his shoulders anda jerk of his head, referred the priest to his wife. Tia Inez met thepadre's gaze, and in a clear, concise manner, and in her native tongue, gave her reasons. Father Norquin explained the prominence of the Travinofamily and their disappointment over the refusal, and asked if thedecision was final, to which he received an affirmative reply. Insteadof showing any displeasure, he rose to take his departure, turning inthe doorway to say to the old couple:--

"My children, peace and happiness in this life is a priceless blessing. I should be untrue to my trust did I counsel a marriage that would givea parent a moment of unhappiness. My blessing upon this house and itsdwellers, and upon its sons and daughters as they go forth to homes oftheir own. " While he lifted his hand in benediction, the old couple andmyself bowed our heads for a moment, after which the padre and I passedoutside. 

I was as solemn as an owl, yet inwardly delighted at the turn ofaffairs. But Father Norquin had nothing to conceal, while delight waswreathed all over his rosy countenance. Again and again he stopped meto make inquiries about Fidel, the new vaquero. That lucky rascal was agood-looking native, a much larger youth than the aspiring Don Blas, andI pictured him to the padre as an Adonis. To the question if he was inthe ranch at present, fortune favored me, as Fidel and nearly all theregular vaqueros were cutting timbers in the encinal that day with whichto build new corrals at one of the outlying tanks. As he would notreturn before dark, and I knew the padre was due at Santa Maria thatevening, my description of him made Don Blas a mere pigmy incomparison. But we finally reached the house, and on our reënteringthe sitting-room, young Travino very courteously arose and stood untilFather Norquin should be seated. But the latter faced his parishioner, saying:--

"You young simpleton, what did you drag me up here for on a fool'serrand? I was led to believe that our generous host was the instigatorof the unfavorable answer to your uncle's negotiations last summer. NowI have the same answer repeated from the lips of the girl's parents. Consider the predicament in which you have placed a servant of theChurch. Every law of hospitality has been outraged through yourimbecility. And to complete my humiliation, I have received onlykindness on every hand. The chapel which I have desired for years isnow a certainty, thanks to the master and mistress of Las Palomas. Whatapology can I offer for your"--

"Hold on there, Father, " interrupted Uncle Lance. "If you owe this ranchany apology, save your breath for a more important occasion. Don Blas isall right; any suitor who would not be jealous over a girl like Juana isnot welcome at Las Palomas. Why, when I was his age I was suspicious ofmy sweetheart's own father, and you should make allowance for this youngman's years and impetuosity. Sit down, Father, and let's have a talkabout this chapel--that's what interests me most right now. You see, within a few days my boys will have all the palisades cut for the newcorrals, and then we can turn our attention to getting out the rock forthe chapel. We have a quarry of nice soft stone all opened up, and I'llput a dozen vaqueros to blocking out the rock in a few days. We alwayshave a big stock of _zacahuiste_ grass on hand for thatching _jacals_, plenty of limestone to burn for the lime, sand in abundance, and all welack is the masons. You'll have to send them out from the Mission, butI'll pay them. Oh, I reckon the good Lord loves Las Palomas, for you seeHe's placed everything convenient with which to build the chapel. "

Father Norquin could not remain seated, but paced the room enumeratingthe many little adornments which the mother church would be glad tosupply. Enthusiastic as a child over a promised toy, no other thoughtentered the simple padre's mind, until dinner was announced. And allduring the meal, the object of our guest's mission was entirely lostsight of, in contemplation of the coming chapel. The padre seemed asanxious to avoid the subject of matchmaking as his host, while poor DonBlas sat like a willing sacrifice, unable to say a word. I sympathizedwith him, for I knew what it was to meet disappointment. At theconclusion of the mid-day repast, Father Norquin flew into a greatbustle in preparing to start for Santa Maria, and I was dispatched forthe horses. Our guests and my employer were waiting at the stile when Iled up their mounts, and at final parting the old matchmaker said to thepriest:--

"Now, remember, I expect you to have this chapel completed by EasterSunday, when I want you to come out and spend at least two weeks with usand see that it is finished to suit you, and arrange for the dedication. Las Palomas will build the chapel, but when our work is done yourscommences. And I want to tell you right now, there's liable to beseveral weddings in it before the mortar gets good and dry. I have it onpretty good authority that one of my boys and Pierre Vaux's eldest girlare just about ready to have you pronounce them man and wife. No, he'snot of any faith, but she's a good Catholic. Now, look here, FatherNorquin, if I have to proselyte you to my way of thinking, it'll neverhurt you any. I was never afraid to do what was right, and when at LasPalomas you needn't be afraid either, even if we have to start a newcreed. Well, good-by to both of you. "

We had a windmill to repair that afternoon, some five miles from theranch, so that I did not return to the house until evening; but when allgathered around the supper table that night, Uncle Lance was throwingbouquets at himself for the crafty manner in which he had switched thepadre from his mission, and yet sent him away delighted. He admittedthat he was scared on the appearance of Father Norquin as a _padrino_, on account of the fact that a priest was usually supreme among his ownpeople. That he had early come to the conclusion if there was to be anycoercion used in this case, he was determined to get in his bluff first. But Miss Jean ridiculed the idea that there was any serious danger. 

"Goodness me, Lance, " said she, "I could have told you there was nocause for alarm. In this case between Fidel and Juana, I've been a veryliberal chaperon. Oh, well, now, never mind about the particulars. Once, to try his nerve, I gave him a chance, and I happen to know the rascalkissed her the moment my back was turned. Oh, I think Juana will stay atLas Palomas. "

CHAPTER XVII

WINTER AT LAS PALOMAS

The winter succeeding the drouth was an unusually mild one, frost andsleet being unseen at Las Palomas. After the holidays several warm rainsfell, affording fine hunting and assuring enough moisture in the soil toinsure an early spring. The preceding winter had been gloomy, but thisproved to be the most social one since my advent, for within fifty milesof the ranch no less than two weddings occurred during Christmas week. As to little neighborhood happenings, we could hear of half a dozenevery time we went to Shepherd's after the mail. 

When the native help on the ranch was started at blocking out the stonefor the chapel, Uncle Lance took the hounds and with two of the boyswent down to Wilson's ranch for a hunt. Gallup went, of course, butjust why he took Scales along, unless with the design of making a matchbetween one of the younger daughters of this neighboring ranchman andthe Marylander, was not entirely clear. When he wanted to, Scales couldmake himself very agreeable, and had it not been for his profligatedisposition, his being taken along on the hunt would have been nomystery. Every one on the ranch, including the master and mistress, were cognizant of the fact that for the past year he had maintaineda correspondence with a girl in Florida--the one whose letter andphotograph had been found in the box of oranges. He hardly deserved theconfidence of the roguish girl, for he showed her letters to any one whocared to read them. I had read every line of the whole correspondence, and it was plain that Scales had deceived the girl into believing thathe was a prominent ranchman, when in reality the best that could be saidof him was that he was a lovable vagabond. From the last letter, it wasclear that he had promised to marry the girl during the Christmas weekjust past, but he had asked for a postponement on the ground that thedrouth had prevented him from selling his beeves. 

When Uncle Lance made the discovery, during a cow hunt the fall before, of the correspondence between Scales and the Florida girl, he said to usaround the camp-fire that night: "Well, all I've got to say is that thatgirl down in Florida is hard up. Why, it's entirely contrary to a girl'snature to want to be wooed by letter. Until the leopard changes hisspots, the good old way, of putting your arm around the girl andwhispering that you love her, will continue to be popular. If I was tohazard an opinion about that girl, Aaron, I'd say that she was ambitiousto rise above her surroundings. The chances are that she wants to getaway from home, and possibly she's as much displeased with the young menin the orange country as I sometimes get with you dodrotted cow hands. Now, I'm not one of those people who're always harping about the youthof his day and generation being so much better than the present. That'sall humbug. But what does get me is, that you youngsters don't profitmore by the experience of an old man like me who's been married threetimes. Line upon line and precept upon precept, I have preached thisthing to my boys for the last ten years, and what has it amounted to?Not a single white bride has ever been brought to Las Palomas. Theycan call me a matchmaker if they want to, but the evidence is to thecontrary. " This was on the night after we passed Shepherd's, whereScales had received a letter from the Florida girl. But why he shouldaccompany the hunt now to Remirena, unless the old ranchero proposedreforming him, was too deep a problem for me. 

On leaving for Wilson's, there was the usual bustle; hounds respondingto the horn and horses under saddle champing their bits. I had hopedthat permission to go over to the Frio and San Miguel would be givenJohn and myself, but my employer's mind was too absorbed in somethingelse, and we were overlooked in the hurry to get away. Since thequarrying of the rock had commenced, my work had been overseeing thenative help, of which we had some fifteen cutting and hauling. Innumerous places within a mile of headquarters, a soft porous rockcropped out. By using a crowbar with a tempered chisel point, theMexicans easily channeled the rock into blocks, eighteen by thirtyinches, splitting each stone a foot in thickness, so that when hauled tothe place of use, each piece was ready to lay up in the wall. The ranchhouse at headquarters was built out of this rock, and where permanencywas required, it was the best material available, whitening andapparently becoming firmer with time and exposure. 

I had not seen my sweetheart in nearly a month, but there I was, chainedto a rock quarry and mule teams. The very idea of Gallup and theprofligate Scales riding to hounds and basking in the society ofcharming girls nettled me. The remainder of the ranch outfit was underDeweese, building the new corrals, so that I never heard my own tonguespoken except at meals and about the house. My orders included thecutting of a few hundred rock extra above the needs of the chapel, andwhen this got noised among the help, I had to explain that there wassome talk of building a stone cottage, and intimated that it was forJuana and Fidel. But that lucky rascal was one of the crew cutting rock, and from some source or other he had learned that I was liable to needa cottage at Las Palomas in the near future. The fact that I was acting_segundo_ over the quarrying outfit, was taken advantage of by Fidelto clear his skirts and charge the extra rock to my matrimonialexpectations. He was a fast workman, and on every stone he split fromthe mother ledge, he sang out, "Otro piedra por Don Tomas!" And within afew minutes' time some one else would cry out, "Otro cillar por Fidel yJuana, " or "Otro piedra por padre Norquin. "

A week passed and there was no return of the hunters. We had sosystematized our work at the quarry that my presence was hardly needed, so every evening I urged Cotton to sound the mistress for permissionto visit our sweethearts. John was a good-natured fellow who could beeasily led or pushed forward, and I had come to look upon Miss Jean asa ready supporter of any of her brother's projects. For that reason herpermission was as good as the master's; but she parried all Cotton'shints, pleading the neglect of our work in the absence of her brother. I was disgusted with the monotony of quarry work, and likewise was Johnover building corrals, as no cow hand ever enthuses over manual labor, when an incident occurred which afforded the opportunity desired. Themistress needed some small article from the store at Shepherd's, and aMexican boy had been sent down on this errand and also to get the mailof the past two weeks. On the boy's return, he brought a message fromthe merchant, saying that Henry Annear had been accidentally killed by ahorse that day, and that the burial would take place at ten o'clock thenext morning. 

The news threw the mistress of Las Palomas into a flutter. Her brotherwas absent, and she felt a delicacy in consulting Deweese, and verynaturally turned to me for advice. Funerals in the Nueces valley were sovery rare that I advised going, even if the unfortunate man had stoodnone too high in our estimation. Annear lived on the divide betweenShepherd's and the Frio at a ranch called Las Norias. As this ranch wasnot over ten miles from the mouth of the San Miguel, the astute mind canreadily see the gleam of my ax in attending. Funerals were such eventsthat I knew to a certainty that all the countryside within reach wouldattend, and the Vaux ranch was not over fifteen miles distant from LasNorias. Acting on my advice, the mistress ordered the ambulance to beready to start by three o'clock the next morning, and gave every one onthe ranch who cared, permission to go along. All of us took advantageof the offer, except Deweese, who, when out of hearing of the mistress, excused himself rather profanely. 

The boy had returned late in the day, but we lost no time in acting onMiss Jean's orders. Fortunately the ambulance teams were in hand haulingrock, but we rushed out several vaqueros to bring in the _remuda_ whichcontained our best saddle horses. It was after dark when they returnedwith the mounts wanted, and warning Tiburcio that we would call him atan early hour, every one retired for a few hours' rest. I would resentthe charge that I am selfish or unsympathetic, yet before falling asleepthat night the deplorable accident was entirely overlooked in theanticipated pleasure of seeing Esther. 

As it was fully a thirty-five-mile drive we started at daybreak, and toencourage the mules Quayle and Happersett rode in the lead until sun-up, when they dropped to the rear with Cotton and myself. We did not go byway of Shepherd's, but crossed the river several miles above the ferry, following an old cotton road made during the war, from the interior ofthe state to Matamoras, Mexico. It was some time before the hour namedfor the burial when we sighted Las Norias on the divide, and spurredup the ambulance team, to reach the ranch in time for the funeral. The services were conducted by a strange minister who happened to bevisiting in Oakville, but what impressed me in particular was thesolicitude of Miss Jean for the widow. She had been frequentlyentertained at Las Palomas by its mistress, as the sweetheart of JuneDeweese, though since her marriage to Annear a decided coolness hadexisted between the two women. But in the present hour of trouble, thepast was forgotten and they mingled their tears like sisters. 

On our return, which was to be by way of the Vauxes', I joined thosefrom the McLeod ranch, while Happersett and Cotton accompanied theambulance to the Vaux home. Nearly every one going our way was onhorseback, and when the cavalcade was some distance from Las Norias, mysweetheart dropped to the rear for a confidential chat and told me thata lawyer from Corpus Christi, an old friend of the family, had comeup for the purpose of taking the preliminary steps for securing herfreedom, and that she expected to be relieved of the odious tie whichbound her to Oxenford at the May term of court. This was pleasant newsto me, for there would then be no reason for delaying our marriage. 

Happersett rode down to the San Miguel the next morning to inform Quayleand myself that the mistress was then on the way to spend the night withthe widow Annear, and that the rest of us were to report at home thefollowing evening. She had apparently inspected the lines on the Frio, and, finding everything favorable, turned to other fields. I wasdisappointed, for Esther and I had planned to go up to the Vaux ranchduring the visit. Dan suggested that we ride home together by way of theVauxes'. But Quayle bitterly refused even to go near the ranch. He feltvery sore and revengeful over being jilted by Frances after she had lethim crown her Queen of the ball at the tournament dance. So, agreeingto meet on the divide the next day for the ride back to Las Palomas, weparted. 

The next afternoon, on reaching the divide between the Frio and the homeriver, Theodore and I scanned the horizon in vain for any horsemen. Wedismounted, and after waiting nearly an hour, descried two specks to thenorthward which we knew must be our men. On coming up they also threwthemselves on the ground, and we indulged in a cigarette while wecompared notes. I had nothing to conceal, and frankly confessed thatEsther and I expected to marry during the latter part of May. Cotton, though, seemed reticent, and though Theodore cross-questioned himrather severely, was non-committal and dumb as an oyster; but before werecrossed the Nueces that evening, John and I having fallen far to therear of the other two, he admitted to me that his wedding would occurwithin a month after Lent. It was to be a confidence between us, but Iadvised him to take Uncle Lance into the secret at once. 

But on reaching the ranch we learned that the hunting party had notreturned, nor had the mistress. The next morning we resumed our work, Quayle and Cotton at corral building and I at the rock quarry. The workhad progressed during my absence, and the number of pieces desired wasnearing completion, and with but one team hauling the work-shop wasalready congested with cut building stone. By noon the quarry was socluttered with blocks that I ordered half the help to take axes andgo to the encinal to cut dry oak wood for burning the lime. With theremainder of my outfit we cleaned out and sealed off the walls of an oldlime kiln, which had served ever since the first rock buildings rose onLas Palomas. The oven was cut in the same porous formation, the interiorresembling an immense jug, possibly twelve feet in diameter and fifteenfeet in height to the surface of the ledge. By locating the kiln nearthe abrupt wall of an abandoned quarry, ventilation was given from belowby a connecting tunnel some twenty feet in length. Layers of wood andlimestone were placed within until the interior was filled, when it wasfired, and after burning for a few hours the draft was cut off below andabove, and the heat retained until the limestone was properly burned. 

Near the middle of the afternoon, the drivers hauling the blocks drovenear the kiln and shouted that the hunters had returned. Scaling off theburnt rock in the interior and removing the debris made it late beforeour job was finished; then one of the vaqueros working on the outsidetold us that the ambulance had crossed the river over an hour before, and was then in the ranch. This was good news, and mounting our horseswe galloped into headquarters and found the corral outfit already there. Miss Jean soon had our _segundo_ an unwilling prisoner in a corner, andfrom his impatient manner and her low tones it was plain to be seenthat her two days' visit with Mrs. Annear had resulted in some wordfor Deweese. Not wishing to intrude, I avoided them in search of myemployer, finding him and Gallup at an outhouse holding a hound whileScales was taking a few stitches in an ugly cut which the dog hadreceived from a _javeline_. Paying no attention to the two boys, I gavehim the news, and bluntly informed him that Esther and I expected tomarry in May. 

"Bully for you, Tom, " said he. "Here, hold this fore foot, and look outhe don't bite you. So she'll get her divorce at the May term, and thenall outdoors can't stand in your way the next time. Now, that means thatyou'll have to get out fully two hundred more of those building rock, for your cottage will need three rooms. Take another stitch, knot yourthread well, and be quick about it. I tell you the _javeline_ werepretty fierce; this is the fifth dog we've doctored since we returned. "

On freeing the poor hound, we both looked the pack over carefully, andas no others needed attention, Aaron and Glenn were excused. No soonerwere they out of hearing than I suggested that the order be made forfive hundred stone, as no doubt John Cotton would also need a cottageshortly after Lent. The old matchmaker beamed with smiles. "Is thatright, Tom?" he inquired. "Of course, you boys tell each other what youwould hardly tell me. And so they have made the riffle at last? Why, ofcourse they shall have a cottage, and have it so near that I can hearthe baby when it cries. Bully for tow-headed John. Oh, I reckon LasPalomas is coming to the front this year. Three new cottages and threenew brides is not to be sneezed at! Does your mistress know all thisgood news?"

I informed him that I had not seen Miss Jean to speak to since thefuneral, and that Cotton wished his intentions kept a secret. "Ofcourse, " he said; "that's just like a sap-headed youth, as if gettingmarried was anything to be ashamed of. Why, when I was the age of youboys I'd have felt proud over the fact. Wants it kept a secret, does he?Well, I'll tell everybody I meet, and I'll send word to the ferry and toevery ranch within a hundred miles, that our John Cotton and Frank Vauxare going to get married in the spring. There's nothing disgraceful inmatrimony, and I'll publish this so wide that neither of them will dareback out. I've had my eye on that girl for years, and now when there's aprospect of her becoming the wife of one of my boys, he wants it kept asecret? Well, I don't think it'll keep. "

After that I felt more comfortable over my own confession. Before wewere called to supper every one in the house, including the Mexicansabout headquarters, knew that Cotton and I were soon to be married. Andall during the evening the same subject was revived at every lull inthe conversation, though Deweese kept constantly intruding the corralbuilding and making inquiries after the hunt. "What difference does itmake if we hunted or not?" replied Uncle Lance to his foreman with somelittle feeling. "Suppose we did only hunt every third or fourth day?Those Wilson folks have a way of entertaining friends which makes ridingafter hounds seem commonplace. Why, the girls had Glenn and Aaron on thego until old man Nate and myself could hardly get them out on a hunt atall. And when they did, provided the girls were along, they managed toget separated, and along about dusk they'd come slouching in by pairs, looking as innocent as turtle-doves. Not that those Wilson girls can'tride, for I never saw a better horsewoman than Susie--the one who tooksuch a shine to Scales. "

I noticed Miss Jean cast a reproving glance at her brother on hisconnecting the name of Susie Wilson with that of his vagabond employee. The mistress was a puritan in morals. That Scales fell far below herideal there was no doubt, and the brother knew too well not to differwith her on this subject. When all the boys had retired except Cottonand me, the brother and sister became frank with each other. 

"Well, now, you must not blame me if Miss Susie was attentive to Aaron, "said the old matchmaker, in conciliation, pacing the room. "He wasfrom Las Palomas and their guest, and I see no harm in the girls beingcourteous and polite. Susie was just as nice as pie to me, and I hopeyou don't think I don't entertain the highest regard for Nate Wilson'sfamily. Suppose one of the girls did smile a little too much on Aaron, was that my fault? Now, mind you, I never said a word one way or theother, but I'll bet every cow on Las Palomas that Aaron Scales, vagabondthat he is, can get Susie Wilson for the asking. I know your standardof morals, but you must make allowance for others who look upon thingsdifferently from you and me. You remember Katharine Vedder who marriedCarey Troup at the close of the war. There's a similar case for you. Katharine married Troup just because he was so wicked, at least that wasthe reason she gave, and she and you were old run-togethers. And youremember too that getting married was the turning-point in Carey Troup'slife. Who knows but Aaron might sober down if he was to marry? Justbecause a man has sown a few wild oats in his youth, does that condemnhim for all time? You want to be more liberal. Give me the man who hasstood the fire tests of life in preference to one who has never beentempted. "

"Now, Lance, you know you had a motive in taking Aaron down toWilson's, " said the sister, reprovingly. "Don't get the idea thatI can't read you like an open book. Your argument is as good as anadmission of your object in going to Ramirena. Ever since Scales got upthat flirtation with Suzanne Vaux last summer, it was easy to see thatAaron was a favorite with you. Why don't you take Happersett around andintroduce him to some nice girls? Honest, Lance, I wouldn't give poorold Dan for the big beef corral full of rascals like Scales. Look how hetrifled with that silly girl in Florida. "

Instead of continuing the argument, the wily ranchero changed thesubject. 

"The trouble with Dan is he's too old. When a fellow begins to get alittle gray around the edges, he gets so foxy that you couldn't bait himinto a matrimonial trap with sweet grapes. But, Sis, what's the matterwith your keeping an eye open for a girl for Dan, if he's such afavorite with you? If I had half the interest in him that you profess, Icertainly wouldn't ask any one to help. It wouldn't surprise me if theboys take to marrying freely after John and Tom bring their brides toLas Palomas. Now that Mrs. Annear is a widow, there's the same oldchance for June. If Glenn don't make the riffle with Miss Jule, he oughtto be shot on general principles. And I don't know, little sister, ifyou and I were both to oppose it, that we could prevent that rascal ofan Aaron from marrying into the Wilson family. You have no idea what acase Susie and Scales scared up during our ten days' hunt. That onlyleaves Dan and Theodore. But what's the use of counting the chickensso soon? You go to bed, for I'm going to send to the Mission to-morrowafter the masons. There's no use in my turning in, for I won't sleep awink to-night, thinking all this over. "

CHAPTER XVIII

AN INDIAN SCARE

Near the close of January, '79, the Nueces valley was stirred by anIndian scare. I had a distinct recollection of two similar scares in myboyhood on the San Antonio River, in which I never caught a glimpse ofthe noble red man. But whether the rumors were groundless or not, LasPalomas set her house in order. The worst thing we had to fear was theloss of our saddle stock, as they were gentle and could be easily runoff and corralled on the range by stretching lariats. At this timethe ranch had some ten _remudas_ including nearly five hundred saddlehorses, some of them ranging ten or fifteen miles from the ranch, and onreceipt of the first rumor, every _remuda_ was brought in home and putunder a general herd, night and day. 

"These Indian scares, " said Uncle Lance, "are just about as regular asdrouths. When I first settled here, the Indians hunted up and down thisvalley every few years, but they never molested anything. Why, I gotwell acquainted with several bucks, and used to swap rawhide with themfor buckskin. Game was so abundant then that there was no temptation tokill cattle or steal horses. But the rascals seem to be getting worseever since. The last scare was just ten years ago next month, and keptus all guessing. The renegades were Kickapoos and came down the Friofrom out west. One Sunday morning they surprised two of Waugh's vaqueroswhile the latter were dressing a wild hog which they had killed. TheMexicans had only one horse and one gun between them. One of them tookthe horse and the other took the carbine. Not daring to follow theone with the gun for fear of ambuscade, the Indians gave chase to thevaquero on horseback, whom they easily captured. After stripping him ofall his clothing, they tied his hands with thongs, and pinned the poordevil to a tree with spear thrusts through the back. 

"The other Mexican made his escape in the chaparral, and got back to theranch. As it happened, there was only a man or two at Waugh's place atthe time, and no attempt was made to follow the Indians, who, afterkilling the vaquero, went on west to Altita Creek--the one which putsinto the Nueces from the north, just about twenty miles above the Ganso. Waugh had a sheep camp on the head of Altito, and there the Kickapooskilled two of his _pastors_ and robbed the camp. From that creek onwestward, their course was marked with murders and horse stealing, butthe country was so sparsely settled that little or no resistance couldbe offered, and the redskins escaped without punishment. At that timethey were armed with bow and arrow and spears, but I have it on goodauthority that all these western tribes now have firearms. The very nameof Indians scares women and children, and if they should come down thisriver, we must keep in the open and avoid ambush, as that is an Indian'sforte. "

All the women and children at the outlying ranchitas were brought intoheadquarters, the men being left to look after the houses and theirstock and flocks. In the interim, Father Norquin and the masons hadarrived and the chapel was daily taking shape. But the rumors of theIndian raid thickened. Reports came in of shepherds shot with theirflocks over near Espontos Lake and along the Leona River, and LasPalomas took on the air of an armed camp. Though we never ceased to ridethe range wherever duty called, we went always in squads of four orfive. 

The first abatement of the scare took place when one evening a cavalcadeof Texas Rangers reached our ranch from DeWitt County. They consisted offifteen mounted men under Lieutenant Frank Barr, with a commissary offour pack mules. The detachment was from one of the crack companies ofthe state, and had with them several half-blood trailers, though everyman in the squad was more or less of an expert in that line. They weretraveling light, and had covered over a hundred miles during the day anda half preceding their arrival at headquarters. The hospitality of LasPalomas was theirs to command, and as their most urgent need was mounts, they were made welcome to the pick of every horse under herd. Sunrisesaw our ranger guests on their way, leaving the high tension relaxed andevery one on the ranch breathing easier. But the Indian scare did notprove an ill wind to the plans of Father Norquin. With the concentrationof people from the ranchitas and those belonging at the home ranch, thechapel building went on by leaps and bounds. A native carpenter had beensecured from Santa Maria, and the enthusiastic padre, laying aside hisvestments, worked with his hands as a common laborer. The energy withwhich he inspired the natives made him a valuable overseer. Fromassisting the carpenter in hewing the rafters, to advising the masons inlaying a keystone, or with his own hands mixing the mortar and tampingthe earth to give firm foundation to the cement floor, he was thedirecting spirit. Very little lumber was used in the construction ofbuildings at Las Palomas. The houses were thatched with a coarse saltgrass, called by the natives _zacahuiste_. Every year in the overflowedportions of the valley, great quantities of this material were cut bythe native help and stored against its need. The grass sometimes grewtwo feet in height, and at cutting was wrapped tightly and tied in"hands" about two inches in diameter. For fastening to the roofing lath, green blades of the Spanish dagger were used, which, after being roastedover a fire to toughen the fibre, were split into thongs and bound thehands securely in a solid mass, layer upon layer like shingles. Crude asit may appear, this was a most serviceable roof, being both rain proofand impervious to heat, while, owing to its compactness, a live coal offire laid upon it would smoulder but not ignite. 

No sooner had the masons finished the plastering of the inner walls andcementing the floor, than they began on a two-roomed cottage. As itswhite walls arose conjecture was rife as to who was to occupy it. I madeno bones of the fact that I expected to occupy a _jacal_ in the nearfuture, but denied that this was to be mine, as I had been promisedone with three rooms. Out of hearing of our employer, John Cotton alsoreligiously denied that the tiny house was for his use. Fidel, however, took the chaffing without a denial, the padre and Uncle Lance being histwo worst tormentors. 

During the previous visit of the padre, when the chapel was decided on, the order for the finishing material for the building had been placedwith the merchant at Shepherd's, and was brought up from Corpus Christithrough his freighters. We now had notice from the merchant that histeamsters had returned, and two four-mule teams went down to theferry for the lumber, glassware, sash and doors. Miss Jean had beenimportuning the padre daily to know when the dedication would takeplace, as she was planning to invite the countryside. 

"Ah, my daughter, " replied the priest, "we must learn to cultivatepatience. All things that abide are of slow but steady growth, and mywork is for eternity. Therefore I must be an earnest servant, so thatwhen my life's duty ends, it can be said in truth, 'Well done, thou goodand faithful servant. ' But I am as anxious to consecrate this buildingto the Master's service as any one. My good woman, if I only had a fewparishioners like you, we would work wonders among these natives. "

On the return of the mule teams, the completion of the building could bedetermined, and the padre announced the twenty-first of February as thedate of dedication. On reaching this decision, the ranch was set inorder for an occasion of more than ordinary moment. Fidel and Juana wereimpatient to be married, and the master and mistress had decided thatthe ceremony should be performed the day after the dedication, and allthe guests of the ranch should remain for the festivities. The padre, still in command, dispatched a vaquero to the Mission, announcing thecompletion of the chapel, and asking for a brother priest to bring outcertain vestments and assist in the dedicatory exercises. The Indianscare was subsiding, and as no word had come from the rangers confidencegrew that the worst was over, so we scattered in every directioninviting guests. From the Booths on the Frio to the Wilsons of Ramirena, and along the home river as far as Lagarto, our friends were bidden inthe name of the master and mistress of Las Palomas. 

On my return from taking the invitations to the ranches north, thechapel was just receiving the finishing touches. The cross crowning thefront glistened in fresh paint, while on the interior walls shone cheaplithographs of the Madonna and Christ. The old padre, proud and jealousas a bridegroom over his bride, directed the young friar here and there, himself standing aloof and studying with an artist's eye every effectin color and drapery. The only discordant note in the interior was therough benches, in the building of which Father Norquin himself hadworked, thus following, as he repeatedly admonished us, in the footstepsof his Master, the carpenter of Galilee. 

The ceremony of dedication was to be followed by mass at high noon. DonMateo Gonzales of Santa Maria sent his regrets, as did likewise DonAlejandro Travino of the Mission, but the other invited guests cameearly and stayed late. The women and children of the outlying ranchitashad not yet returned to their homes, and with our invited guests made anassembly of nearly a hundred and fifty persons. Unexpectedly, and withintwo hours of the appointed time for the service to commence, a cavalcadewas sighted approaching the ranch from the west. As they turned intowards headquarters, some one recognized the horses, and a shout ofwelcome greeted our ranger guests of over two weeks before. Uncle Lancemet them as if they had been expected, and invited the lieutenant andhis men to dismount and remain a few days as guests of Las Palomas. Whenthey urged the importance of continuing on their journey to report tothe governor, the host replied:--

"Lieutenant Barr, that don't go here. Fall out of your saddles andborrow all the razors and white shirts on the ranch, for we need youfor the dedication of a chapel to-day, and for a wedding and infare forto-morrow. We don't see you along this river as often as we'd like to, and when you do happen along in time for a peaceful duty, you can'tget away so easily. If you have any special report to make to yoursuperiors, why, write her out, and I'll send a vaquero with it toOakville this afternoon, and it'll go north on the stage to-morrow. But, lieutenant, you mustn't think you can ride right past Las Palomas whenyou're not under emergency orders. Now, fall off those horses and spruceup a little, for I intend to introduce you to some as nice girls as youever met. You may want to quit rangering some day, and I may need a manabout your size, and I'm getting tired of single ones. "

Lieutenant Barr surrendered. Saddles were stripped from horses, packswere unlashed from mules, and every animal was sent to our _remudas_under herd. The accoutrements were stacked inside the gate likehaycocks, with slickers thrown over them; the carbines were thrown onthe gallery, and from every nail, peg, or hook on the wall belts andsix-shooters hung in groups. These rangers were just ordinary lookingmen, and might have been mistaken for an outfit of cow hands. In agethey ranged from a smiling youth of twenty to grizzled men of forty, yet in every countenance was written a resolute determination. Allthe razors on the ranch were brought into immediate use, while everypresentable shirt, collar, and tie in the house was unearthed and placedat their disposal. While arranging hasty toilets, the men informed usthat when they reached Espontos Lake the redskins had left, and thatthey had trailed them south until the Indians had crossed the Rio Grandeinto Mexico several days in advance of their arrival. The usual numberof isolated sheepherders killed, and of horses stolen, were the featuresof the raid. 

The guests had been arriving all morning. The Booths had reached theranch the night before, and the last to put in an appearance was thecontingent from the Frio and San Miguel. Before the appearance of therangers, they had been sighted across the river, and they rode up withPierre Vaux, like a captain of the Old Guard, in the lead. 

"Ah, Don Lance, " he cried, "vat you tink? Dey say Don Pierre no ridefas' goin' to church. Dese youngsters laff all time and say I never gethere unless de dogs is 'long. Sacré! Act all time lak I vas von ol' man. _Humbre_, keep away from dis horse; he allow nobody but me to lay vonhan' on him--keep away, I tol' you!"

I helped the girls to dismount, Miss Jean kissing them right and left, and bustling them off into the house to tidy up as fast as possible; forthe hour was almost at hand. On catching sight of Mrs. Annear, fresh andcharming in her widow's weeds, Uncle Lance brushed Don Pierre aside andcordially greeted her. Vaqueros took the horses, and as I strolled upthe pathway with Esther, I noticed an upper window full of ranger facespeering down on the girls. Before this last contingent had had time tospruce up, Pasquale's eldest boy rode around all the _jacals_, ringinga small handbell to summon the population to the dedication. Outside ofour home crowd, we had forty white guests, not including the two Boothchildren and the priests. As fast as the rangers were made presentable, the master and mistress introduced them to all the girls present. Ofcourse, there were a few who could not be enticed near a woman, butQuayle and Happersett, like kindred spirits, took the backward onesunder their wing, and the procession started for the chapel. 

The audience was typical of the Texas frontier at the close of the'70's. Two priests of European birth conducted the services. Pioneercowmen of various nationalities and their families intermingled andoccupied central seats. By the side of his host, a veteran of '36, whenMexican rule was driven from the land, sat Lieutenant Barr, then engagedin accomplishing a second redemption of the state from crime andlawlessless. Lovable and esteemed men were present, who had followed thefortunes of war until the Southern flag, to which they had rallied, wentdown in defeat. The younger generation of men were stalwart in physique, while the girls were modest in their rustic beauty. Sitting on thecement floor on three sides of us were the natives of the ranch, civilized but with little improvement over their Aztec ancestors. 

The dedicatory exercises were brief and simple. Every one was invited toremain for the celebration of the first mass in the newly consecratedbuilding. Many who were not communicants accepted, but noticing themistress and my sweetheart taking their leave, I joined them andassisted in arranging the tables so that all our guests could be seatedat two sittings. At the conclusion of the services, dinner was waiting, and Father Norquin and Mr. Nate Wilson were asked to carve at one table, while the young friar and Lieutenant Barr, in a similar capacity, officiated at the other. There was so much volunteer help in the kitchenthat I was soon excused, and joined the younger people on the gallery. As to whom Cotton and Gallup were monopolizing there was no doubt, but Ihad a curiosity to notice what Scales would do when placed between twofires. But not for nothing had he cultivated the acquaintance of asandy-mustached young ranger, who was at that moment entertainingSuzanne Vaux in an alcove at the farther end of the veranda. Aaron, whenreturning from the chapel with Susie Wilson, had succeeded in getting nonearer the house than a clump of oak trees which sheltered an old rusticsettee. And when the young folks were called in to dinner, the vagabondScales and Miss Wilson of Ramirena had to be called the second time. 

In seating the younger generation, Miss Jean showed her finesse. Nearlyall the rangers had dined at the first tables, but the widow Annearwaited for the second one--why, only a privileged few of us could guess. Artfully and with seeming unconsciousness on the part of every one, Deweese was placed beside the charming widow, though I had a suspicionthat June was the only innocent party in the company. Captain Byler andI were carving at the same table at which our foreman and the widow wereseated, and, being in the secret, I noted step by step the progress ofthe widow, and the signs of gradual surrender of the corporal _segundo_. I had a distinct recollection of having once smashed some earnestresolves, and of having capitulated under similar circumstances, and nowbeing happily in love, I secretly wished success to the little god Cupidin the case in hand. And all during the afternoon and evening, it wasclearly apparent to any one who cared to notice that success was verylikely. 

The evening was a memorable one at Las Palomas. Never before in myknowledge had the ranch had so many and such amiable guests. The rangerstook kindly to our hospitality, and Father Norquin waddled about, God-blessing every one, old and young, frivolous and sedate. Owingto the nature of the services of the day, the evening was spent inconversation among the elders, while the younger element promenaded thespacious gallery, or occupied alcoves, nooks, and corners about thegrounds. On retiring for the night, the men yielded the house to thewomen guests, sleeping on the upper and lower verandas, while the rangercontingent, scorning beds or shelter, unrolled their blankets under thespreading live-oaks in the yard. 

But the real interest centred in the marriage of Fidel and Juana, whichtook place at six o'clock the following evening. Every one, includingthe native element, repaired to the new chapel to attend the wedding. Uncle Lance and his sister had rivaled each other as to whether man ormaid should have the better outfit. Fidel was physically far above theaverage of the natives, slightly bow-legged, stolid, and the coolestperson in the church. The bride was in quite a flutter, but having beencoached and rehearsed daily by her mistress, managed to get through theordeal. The young priest performed the ceremony, using his own nativetongue, the rich, silvery accents of Spanish. At the conclusion of theservice, every one congratulated the happy couple, the women and girlsin tears, the sterner sex without demonstration of feeling. When we wereoutside the chapel, and waiting for our sweethearts to dry their tearsand join us, Uncle Lance came swaggering' over to John Cotton and me, and, slapping us both on the back, said:--

"Boys, that rascal of a Fidel has a splendid nerve. Did you notice howhe faced the guns without a tremor; never batted an eye but took hismedicine like a little man. I hope both of you boys will show equallygood nerve when your turn comes. Why, I doubt if there was a ranger inthe whole squad, unless it was that red-headed rascal who kissed thebride, who would have stood the test like that vaquero--without ashiver. And it's something you can't get used to. Now, as you all know, I've been married three times. The first two times I was as cool asmost, but the third whirl I trembled all over. Quavers ran through me, my tongue was palsied, my teeth chattered, my knees knocked together, and I felt like a man that was sent for and couldn't go. Now, mind you, it was the third time and I was only forty-five. "

What a night that was! The contents of the warehouse had been shifted, native musicians had come up from Santa Maria, and every one aboutthe home ranch who could strum a guitar was pressed into service. Thestoreroom was given over to the natives, and after honoring the occasionwith their presence as patrons, the master and mistress, after theopening dance, withdrew in company with their guests. The night hadthen barely commenced. Claiming two guitarists, we soon had our guestswaltzing on veranda, hall, and spacious dining-room to the music of myfiddle. Several of the rangers could play, and by taking turns every onehad a joyous time, including the two priests. Among the Mexicans thedancing continued until daybreak. Shortly after midnight our guestsretired, and the next morning found all, including the priests, preparing to take their departure. As was customary, we rode a shortdistance with our guests, bidding them again to Las Palomas andreceiving similar invitations in return. With the exception of CaptainByler, the rangers were the last to take their leave. When the muleswere packed and their mounts saddled, the old ranchero extended them awelcome whenever they came that way again. 

"Well, now, Mr. Lovelace, " said Lieutenant Barr, "you had better notpress that invitation too far. The good time we have had with youdiscounts rangering for the State of Texas. Rest assured, sir, that wewill not soon forget the hospitality of Las Palomas, nor its abilityto entertain. Push on with the packs, boys, and I'll take leave of themistress in behalf of you all, and overtake the squad before it reachesthe river. "

CHAPTER XIX

HORSE BRANDS

Before gathering the fillies and mares that spring, and while ridingthe range, locating our horse stock, Pasquale brought in word late oneevening that a _ladino_ stallion had killed the regular one, and wasthen in possession of the _manada_. The fight between the outlaw and theranch stallion had evidently occurred above the mouth of the Ganso andseveral miles to the north of the home river, for he had accidentallyfound the carcass of the dead horse at a small lake and, recognizing theanimal by his color, had immediately scoured the country in search ofthe band. He had finally located the _manada_, many miles off theirrange; but at sight of the vaquero the _ladino_ usurper had desertedthe mares, halting, however, out of gunshot, yet following at a safedistance as Pasquale drifted them back. Leaving the _manada_ on theirformer range, Pasquale had ridden into the ranch and reported. It wasthen too late in the day to start against the interloper, as the rangewas fully twenty-five miles away, and we were delayed the next morningin getting up speedy saddle horses from distant and various _remudas_, and did not get away from the ranch until after dinner. But then westarted, taking the usual pack mules, and provisioned for a week'souting. 

Included in the party was Captain Frank Byler, the regular home crowd, and three Mexicans. With an extra saddle horse for each, we rode awaymerrily to declare war on the _ladino_ stallion. "This is the third timesince I've teen ranching here, " said Uncle Lance to Captain Frank, aswe rode along, "that I've had stallions killed. There always have beenbands of wild horses, west here between the Leona and Nueces rivers andaround Espontos Lake. Now that country is settling up, the people walkdown the bands and the stallions escape, and in drifting about find ourrange. They're wiry rascals, and our old stallions don't stand any moreshow with them than a fat hog would with a _javaline_. That's why I takeas much pride in killing one as I do a rattlesnake. "

We made camp early that evening on the home river, opposite the rangeof the _manada_. Sending out Pasquale to locate the band and watch themuntil dark, Uncle Lance outlined his idea of circling the band andbagging the outlaw in the uncertain light of dawn. Pasquale reportedon his return after dark that the _manada_ were contentedly feeding ontheir accustomed range within three miles of camp. Pasquale hadwatched the band for an hour, and described the _ladino_ stallion as acinnamon-colored coyote, splendidly proportioned and unusually large fora mustang. 

Naturally, in expectation of the coming sport, the horses became thetopic around the camp-fire that night. Every man present was a bornhorseman, and there was a generous rivalry for the honor in tellinghorse stories. Aaron Scales joined the group at a fortunate time tointroduce an incident from his own experience, and, raking out a coal offire for his pipe, began:--

"The first ranch I ever worked on, " said he, "was located on the Navidadin Lavaca County. It was quite a new country then, rather broken andtimbered in places and full of bear and wolves. Our outfit was workingsome cattle before the general round-up in the spring. We wanted to moveone brand to another range as soon as the grass would permit, and wewere gathering them for that purpose. We had some ninety saddle horseswith us to do the work, --sufficient to mount fifteen men. One night wecamped in a favorite spot, and as we had no cattle to hold that night, all the horses were thrown loose, with the usual precaution of hobbling, except two or three on picket. All but about ten head wore thebracelets, and those ten were pals, their pardners wearing the hemp. Early in the evening, probably nine o'clock, with a bright fire burning, and the boys spreading down their beds for the night, suddenly thehorses were heard running, and the next moment they hobbled into camplike a school of porpoise, trampling over the beds and crowding up tothe fire and the wagon. They almost knocked down some of the boys, sosudden was their entrance. Then they set up a terrible nickering formates. The boys went amongst them, and horses that were timid and shyalmost caressed their riders, trembling in limb and muscle the whilethrough fear, like a leaf. We concluded a bear had scented the camp, andin approaching it had circled round, and run amuck our saddle horses. Every horse by instinct is afraid of a bear, but more particularly arange-raised one. It's the same instinct that makes it impossible toride or drive a range-raised horse over a rattlesnake. Well, after theboys had petted their mounts and quieted their fears, they were stillreluctant to leave camp, but stood around for several hours, evidentlyfeeling more secure in our presence. Now and then one of the free oneswould graze out a little distance, cautiously sniff the air, then trotback to the others. We built up a big fire to scare away any bear orwolves that might he in the vicinity, but the horses stayed like invitedguests, perfectly contented as long as we would pet them and talk tothem. Some of the boys crawled under the wagon, hoping to get a littlesleep, rather than spread their bed where a horse could stampede overit. Near midnight we took ropes and saddle blankets and drove themseveral hundred yards from camp. The rest of the night we slept with oneeye open, expecting every moment to hear them take fright and return. They didn't, but at daylight every horse was within five hundred yardsof the wagon, and when we unhobbled them and broke camp that morning, wehad to throw riders in the lead to hold them back. "

On the conclusion of Scales's experience, there was no lack ofvolunteers to take up the thread, though an unwritten law forbadeinterruptions. Our employer was among the group, and out of deference toour guest, the boys remained silent. Uncle Lance finally regaled uswith an account of a fight between range stallions which he had oncewitnessed, and on its conclusion Theodore Quayle took his turn. 

"The man I was working for once moved nearly a thousand head of mixedrange stock, of which about three hundred were young mules, from the SanSaba to the Concho River. It was a dry country and we were compelled tofollow the McKavett and Fort Chadbourne trail. We had timed our drivesso that we reached creeks once a day at least, sometimes oftener. It wasthe latter part of summer, and was unusually hot and drouthy. There wasone drive of twenty-five miles ahead that the owner knew of withoutwater, and we had planned this drive so as to reach it at noon, drivehalfway, make a dry camp over night, and reach the pools by noon thenext day. Imagine our chagrin on reaching the watering place to find thestream dry. We lost several hours riding up and down the _arroyo_ in thehope of finding relief for the men, if not for the stock. It had beendusty for weeks. The cook had a little water in his keg, but only enoughfor drinking purposes. It was twenty miles yet to the Concho, and makeit before night we must. Turning back was farther than going ahead, andthe afternoon was fearfully hot. The heat waves looked like a sea offire. The first part of the afternoon drive was a gradual ascent forfifteen miles, and then came a narrow plateau of a divide. As we reachedthis mesa, a sorrier-looking lot of men, horses, and mules can hardly beimagined. We had already traveled over forty miles without water for thestock, and five more lay between us and the coveted river. 

"The heat was oppressive to the men, but the herd suffered most from thefine alkali dust which enveloped them. Their eyebrows and nostrils werewhitened with this fine powder, while all colors merged into one. Onreaching this divide, we could see the cotton-woods that outlined thestream ahead. Before we had fully crossed this watershed and begun thedescent, the mules would trot along beside the riders in the lead, evenpermitting us to lay our hands on their backs. It was getting late inthe day before the first friendly breeze of the afternoon blew softly inour faces. Then, Great Scott! what a change came over man and herd. Themules in front threw up their heads and broke into a grand chorus. Thosethat were strung out took up the refrain and trotted forward. The horsesset up a rival concert in a higher key. They had scented the water fivemiles off. 

"All hands except one man on each side now rode in the lead. Every oncein a while, some enthusiastic mule would break through the line ofhorsemen, and would have to be brought back. Every time we came to anelevation where we could catch the breeze, the grand horse and muleconcert would break out anew. At the last elevation between us and thewater, several mules broke through, and before they could be broughtback the whole herd had broken into a run which was impossible to check. We opened out then and let them go. 

"The Concho was barely running, but had long, deep pools here and there, into which horses and mules plunged, dropped down, rolled over, and thengot up to nicker and bray. The young mules did everything but drink, while the horses were crazy with delight. When the wagon came up we wentinto camp and left them to play out their hands. There was no herdingto do that night, as the water would hold them as readily as a hundredmen. "

"Well, I'm going to hunt my blankets, " said Uncle Lance, rising. "Youunderstand, Captain, that you are to sleep with me to-night. DavyCrockett once said that the politest man he ever met in Washingtonsimply set out the decanter and glasses, and then walked over and lookedout of the window while he took a drink. Now I want to be equally politeand don't want to hurry you to sleep, but whenever you get tired ofyarning, you'll find the bed with me in it to the windward of thatlive-oak tree top over yonder. "

Captain Frank showed no inclination to accept the invitation just then, but assured his host that he would join him later. An hour or two passedby. 

"Haven't you fellows gone to bed yet?" came an inquiry from out of afallen tree top beyond the fire in a voice which we all recognized. "Allright, boys, sit up all night and tell fool stories if you want to. Butremember, I'll have the last rascal of you in the saddle an hour beforedaybreak. I have little sympathy for a man who won't sleep when he hasa good chance. So if you don't turn in at all it will be all right, butyou'll be routed out at three in the morning, and the man who requires asecond calling will get a bucket of water in his face. "

Captain Frank and several of us rose expecting to take the hint of ouremployer, when our good intentions were arrested by a query from DanHappersett, "Did any of you ever walk down a wild horse?" None of ushad, and we turned back and reseated ourselves in the group. 

"I had a little whirl of it once when I was a youngster, " said Dan, "except we didn't walk. It was well known that there were several bandsof wild horses ranging in the southwest corner of Tom Green County. Those who had seen them described one band as numbering forty to fiftyhead with a fine chestnut stallion as a leader. Their range was welllocated when water was plentiful, but during certain months of the yearthe shallow lagoons where they watered dried up, and they were compelledto leave. It was when they were forced to go to other waters thatglimpses of them were to be had, and then only at a distance of one ortwo miles. There was an outfit made up one spring to go out to theirrange and walk these horses down. This season of the year was selected, as the lagoons would be full of water and the horses would be naturallyreduced in flesh and strength after the winter, as well as weak and thinblooded from their first taste of grass. We took along two wagons, oneloaded with grain for our mounts. These saddle horses had been eatinggrain for months before we started and their flesh was firm and solid. 

"We headed for the lagoons, which were known to a few of our party, andwhen we came within ten miles of the water holes, we saw fresh signs ofa band--places where they had apparently grazed within a week. But itwas the second day before we caught sight of the wild horses, and toolate in the day to give them chase. They were watering at a large lakesouth of our camp, and we did not disturb them. We watched them untilnightfall, and that night we planned to give them chase at daybreak. Four of us were to do the riding by turns, and imaginary stations wereallotted to the four quarters of our camp. If they refused to leavetheir range and circled, we could send them at least a hundred and fiftymiles the first day, ourselves riding possibly a hundred, and thisriding would be divided among four horses, with plenty of fresh ones atcamp for a change. 

"Being the lightest rider in the party, it was decided that I was togive them the first chase. We had a crafty plainsman for our captain, and long before daylight he and I rode out and waited for the first peepof day. Before the sun had risen, we sighted the wild herd within a mileof the place where darkness had settled over them the night previous. With a few parting instructions from our captain, I rode leisurelybetween them and the lake where they had watered the evening before. Atfirst sight of me they took fright and ran to a slight elevation. Therethey halted a moment, craning their necks and sniffing the air. This wasmy first fair view of the chestnut stallion. He refused to break intoa gallop, and even stopped before the rest, turning defiantly on thisintruder of his domain. From the course I was riding, every moment I wasexpecting them to catch the wind of me. Suddenly they scented me, knewme for an enemy, and with the stallion in the lead they were off to thesouth. 

"It was an exciting ride that morning. Without a halt they ran twentymiles to the south, then turned to the left and there halted on anelevation; but a shot in the air told them that all was not well andthey moved on. For an hour and a half they kept their course to theeast, and at last turned to the north. This was, as we had calculated, about their range. In another hour at the farthest, a new rider witha fresh horse would take up the running. My horse was still fresh andenjoying the chase, when on a swell of the plain I made out the riderwho was to relieve me; and though it was early yet in the day themustangs had covered sixty miles to my forty. When I saw my relieflocate the band, I turned and rode leisurely to camp. When the last tworiders came into camp that night, they reported having left the herd ata new lake, to which the mustang had led them, some fifteen miles fromour camp to the westward. 

"Each day for the following week was a repetition of the first withvarying incident. But each day it was plain to be seen that they werefagging fast. Toward the evening of the eighth day, the rider dared notcrowd them for fear of their splitting into small bands, a thing to beavoided. On the ninth day two riders took them at a time, pushing themunmercifully but preventing them from splitting, and in the evening ofthis day they could be turned at the will of the riders. It was thenagreed that after a half day's chase on the morrow, they could behandled with ease. By noon next day, we had driven them within a mile ofour camp. 

"They were tired out and we turned them into an impromptu corral made ofwagons and ropes. All but the chestnut stallion. At the last he escapedus; he stopped on a little knoll and took a farewell look at his band. 

"There were four old United States cavalry horses among our captive bandof mustangs, gray with age and worthless--no telling where they camefrom. We clamped a mule shoe over the pasterns of the younger horses, tied toggles to the others, and the next morning set out on our returnto the settlements. "

Under his promise the old ranchero had the camp astir over an hourbefore dawn. Horses were brought in from picket ropes, and divided intotwo squads, Pasquale leading off to the windward of where the band waslocated at dusk previous. The rest of the men followed Uncle Lance tocomplete the leeward side of the circle. The location of the _manada_, had been described as between a small hill covered with Spanish bayoneton one hand, and a _zacahuiste_ flat nearly a mile distant on the other, both well-known landmarks. As we rode out and approached the location, we dropped a man every half mile until the hill and adjoining salt flathad been surrounded. We had divided what rifles the ranch owned betweenthe two squads, so that each side of the circle was armed with fourguns. I had a carbine, and had been stationed about midway of theleeward half-circle. At the first sign of dawn, the signal agreed upon, a turkey call, sounded back down the line, and we advanced. The circlewas fully two miles in diameter, and on receiving the signal I rodeslowly forward, halting at every sound. It was a cloudy morning anddawn came late for clear vision. Several times I dismounted and inapproaching objects at a distance drove my horse before me, only to findthat, as light increased, I was mistaken. 

[Illustration: UTTERING A SINGLE PIERCING SNORT]

When both the flat and the dagger crowned hill came into view, not aliving object was in sight. I had made the calculation that, had the_manada_ grazed during the night, we should be far to the leeward of theband, for it was reasonable to expect that they would feed against thewind. But there was also the possibility that the outlaw might haveherded the band several miles distant during the night, and while I wasmeditating on this theory, a shot rang out about a mile distant andbehind the hill. Giving my horse the rowel, I rode in the direction ofthe report; but before I reached the hill the _manada_ tore around it, almost running into me. The coyote mustang was leading the band; but asI halted for a shot, he turned inward, and, the mares intervening, cutoff my opportunity. But the warning shot had reached every rider on thecircle, and as I plied rowel and quirt to turn the band, Tio Tiburciocut in before me and headed them backward. As the band whirled away fromus the stallion forged to the front and, by biting and a free use of hisheels, attempted to turn the _manada_ on their former course. But itmattered little which way they turned now, for our cordon was closinground them, the windward line then being less than a mile distant. 

As the band struck the eastward or windward line of horsemen, the mares, except for the control of the stallion, would have yielded, but now, under his leadership, they recoiled like a band of _ladinos_. But everytime they approached the line of the closing circle they were checked, and as the cordon closed to less than half a mile in diameter, in spiteof the outlaw's lashings, the _manada_ quieted down and halted. Then weunslung our carbines and rifles and slowly closed in upon the quarry. Several times the mustang stallion came to the outskirts of the band, uttering a single piercing snort, but never exposed himself for a shot. Little by little as we edged in he grew impatient, and finally trottedout boldly as if determined to forsake his harem and rush the line. Butthe moment he cleared the band Uncle Lance dismounted, and as he kneltthe stallion stopped like a statue, gave a single challenging snort, which was answered by a rifle report, and he fell in his tracks. 

CHAPTER XX

SHADOWS

Spring was now at hand after an unusually mild winter. With the breakingof the drouth of the summer before there had sprung up all through theencinal and sandy lands an immense crop of weeds, called by the natives_margoso_, fallow-weed. This plant had thriven all winter, and thecattle had forsaken the best mesquite grazing in the river bottoms toforage on it. The results showed that their instinct was true; for withvery rare exceptions every beef on the ranch was fit for the butcher'sblock. Truly it was a year of fatness succeeding a lean one. Neverduring my acquaintance with Las Palomas had I seen the cattle comethrough a winter in such splendid condition. But now there was nomarket. Faint rumors reached us of trail herds being put up in near-bycounties, and it was known that several large ranches in Nueces Countywere going to try the experiment of sending their own cattle up thetrail. Lack of demand was discouraging to most ranchmen, and our rangewas glutted with heavy steer cattle. 

The first spring work of any importance was gathering the horses to filla contract we had with Captain Byler. Previous to the herd which Deweesehad sold and delivered at Fort Worth the year before, our horse stockhad amounted to about four thousand head. With the present sale theranch holdings would be much reduced, and it was our intention to retainall _manadas_ used in the breeding of mules. When we commenced gatheringwe worked over every one of our sixty odd bands, cutting out all thefillies and barren mares. In disposing of whole _manadas_ we kept onlythe geldings and yearlings, throwing in the old stallions for goodmeasure, as they would be worthless to us when separated from theirharems. In less than a week's time we had made up the herd, and as theywere all in the straight 'horse hoof' we did not road-brand them. Whilegathering them we put them under day and night herd, throwing in five_remudas_ as we had agreed, but keeping back the bell mares, as theywere gentle and would be useful in forming new bands of saddle horses. The day before the appointed time for the delivery, the drover broughtup saddle horses and enough picked mares to make his herd number fifteenhundred. 

The only unpleasant episode of the sale was a difference betweenTheodore Quayle and my employer. Quayle had cultivated the friendship ofthe drover until the latter had partially promised him a job with theherd, in case there was no objection. But when Uncle Lance learned thatTheodore expected to accompany the horses, he took Captain Frank totask for attempting to entice away his men. The drover entered a strongdisclaimer, maintaining that he had promised Quayle a place only in caseit was satisfactory to all concerned; further, that in trail work withhorses he preferred Mexican vaqueros, and had only made the conditionalpromise as a favor to the young man. Uncle Lance accepted theexplanation and apologized to the drover, but fell on Theodore Quayleand cruelly upbraided him for forsaking the ranch without cause orreason. Theodore was speechless with humiliation, but no sooner werethe hasty words spoken than my employer saw that he had grievously hurtanother's feelings, and humbly craved Quayle's pardon. 

The incident passed and was apparently forgotten. The herd started northon the trail on the twenty-fifth of March, Quayle stayed on at LasPalomas, and we resumed our regular spring work on the ranch. Whilegathering the mares and fillies, we had cut out all the geldings fouryears old and upward to the number of nearly two hundred, and now ourusual routine of horse breaking commenced. The masons had completedtheir work on all three of the cottages and returned to the Mission, butthe carpenter yet remained to finish up the woodwork. Fidel and Juanahad begun housekeeping in their little home, and the cosy warmth whichradiated from it made me impatient to see my cottage finished. Throughthe mistress, arrangements had been made for the front rooms in bothJohn's cottage and mine to be floored instead of cemented. 

Some two weeks before Easter Sunday, Cotton returned from the Frio, where he had been making a call on his intended. Uncle Lance at oncequestioned him to know if they had set the day, and was informed thatthe marriage would occur within ten days after Lent, and that heexpected first to make a hurried trip to San Antonio for a weddingoutfit. 

"That's all right, John, " said the old ranchero approvingly, "and Iexpect Quirk might as well go with you. You can both draw every cent dueyou, and take your time, as wages will go right on the same as if youwere working. There will not be much to do except the usual horsebreaking and a little repairing about the ranch. It's quite likely Ishan't be able to spare Tom in the early summer, for if no cattle buyerscome along soon, I'm going to send June to the coast and let him sniffaround for one. I'd like the best in the world to sell about threethousand beeves, and we never had fatter ones than we have to-day. If wecan make a sale, it'll keep us busy all the fore part of the summer. Soboth you fellows knock off any day you want to and go up to the city. And go horseback, for this ranch don't give Bethel & Oxenford's stagesany more of its money. "

With this encouragement, we decided to start for the city the nextmorning. But that evening I concluded to give a certain roan gelding afinal ride before turning him over to the vaqueros. He was a viciousrascal, and after trying a hundred manoeuvres to unhorse me, reared andfell backward, and before I could free my foot from the stirrup, caughtmy left ankle, fracturing several of the small bones in the joint. Thatsettled my going anywhere on horseback for a month, as the next morningI could not touch my foot to the ground. John did not like to go alone, and the mistress insisted that Theodore was well entitled to a vacation. The master consented, each was paid the wages due him, and catching uptheir own private horses, the old cronies started off to San Antonio. They expected to make Mr. Booth's ranch in a little over half a day, andfrom there a sixty-mile ride would put them in the city. 

After the departure of the boys the dull routine of ranch work wentheavily forward. The horse breaking continued, vaqueros rode the rangelooking after the calf crop, while I had to content myself with nursinga crippled foot and hobbling about on crutches. Had I been able to ridea horse, it is quite possible that a ranch on the San Miguel would havehad me as its guest; but I must needs content myself with lying aroundthe house, visiting with Juana, or watching the carpenter finishing thecottages. I tried several times to interest my mistress in a scheme toinvite my sweetheart over for a week or two, but she put me off on onepretext and another until I was vexed at her lack of enthusiasm. Buttruth compels me to do that good woman justice, and I am now satisfiedthat my vexation was due to my own peevishness over my condition and notto neglect on her part. And just then she was taking such an absorbinginterest in June and the widow, and likewise so sisterly a concern forDan Happersett, that it was little wonder she could give me no specialattention when I was soon to be married. It was the bird in the bushthat charmed Miss Jean. 

Towards the close of March a number of showers fell, and we had a weekof damp, cloudy weather. This was unfortunate, as it called nearly everyman from the horse breaking to ride the range and look after the youngcalves. One of the worst enemies of a newly born calf is screw worms, which flourish in wet weather, and prove fatal unless removed; for noyoung calf withstands the pest over a few days. Clear dry weather wasthe best preventive against screw worms, but until the present dampspell abated every man in the ranch was in the saddle from sunrise tosunset. 

In the midst of this emergency work a beef buyer by the name of WayneOrahood reached the ranch. He was representing the lessees of asteamship company plying between New Orleans and Texas coast points. Themerchant at the ferry had advised Orahood to visit Las Palomas, but onhis arrival about noon there was not a white man on the ranch to showhim the cattle. I knew the anxiety of my employer to dispose of hismatured beeves, and as the buyer was impatient there was nothing to dobut get up horses and ride the range with him. Miss Jean was anxiousto have the stock shown, and in spite of my lameness I ordered saddlehorses for both of us. Unable to wear a boot and still hobbling oncrutches, I managed to Indian mount an old horse, my left foot still tooinflamed to rest in the stirrup. From the ranch we rode for the encinalridges and sandy lands to the southeast, where the fallow-weed stillthrove in rank profusion, and where our heaviest steers were liable torange. By riding far from the watering points we encountered the oldercattle, and within an hour after leaving the ranch I was showing some ofthe largest beeves on Las Palomas. 

How that beef buyer did ride! Scarcely giving the cattle a passing look, he kept me leading the way from place to place where our salable stockwas to be encountered. Avoiding the ranchitos and wells, where the cowsand younger cattle were to be found, we circled the extreme outskirts ofour range, only occasionally halting, and then but for a single glanceover some prime beeves. We turned westward from the encinal at a gallop, passing about midway between Santa Maria and the home ranch. Thence wepushed on for the hills around the head of the Ganso. Not once in theentire ride did we encounter any one but a Mexican vaquero, and therewas no relief for my foot in meeting him! Several times I had aninclination to ask Mr. Orahood to remember my sore ankle, and onstriking the broken country I suggested we ride slower, as many of ouroldest beeves ranged through these hills. This suggestion enabled me toease up and to show our best cattle to advantage until the sun set. Wewere then twenty-five miles from the ranch. But neither distance norapproaching darkness checked Wayne Orahood's enthusiasm. A dozen timeshe remarked, "We'll look at a few more cattle, son, and then ride inhome. " We did finally turn homeward, and at a leisurely gait, but notuntil it was too dark to see cattle, and it was several hours afterdarkness when we sighted the lamps at headquarters, and finished thelast lap in our afternoon's sixty-mile ride. 

My employer and Mr. Orahood had met before, and greeted each other witha rugged cordiality common among cowmen. The others had eaten theirsupper; but while the buyer and I satisfied the inner man, Uncle Lancesat with us at the table and sparred with Orahood in repartee, or askedregarding mutual friends, artfully avoiding any mention of cattle. But after we had finished Mr. Orahood spoke of his mission, admitteddeprecatingly that he had taken a little ride south and west thatafternoon, and if it was not too much trouble he would like to lookover our beeves on the north of the Nueces in the morning. He showedno enthusiasm, but acknowledged that he was buying for shipment, andthought that another month's good grass ought to put our steers in faircondition. I noticed Uncle Lance clouding up over the buyer's lack ofappreciation, but he controlled himself, and when Mr. Orahood expresseda wish to retire, my employer said to his guest, as with candle in handthe two stood in parting:--

"Well, now, Wayne, that's too bad about the cattle being so thin. I'vebeen working my horse stock lately, and didn't get any chance to ridethe range until this wet spell. But since the screw worms got so bad, being short-handed, I had to get out and rustle myself or we'd lost alot of calves. Of course, I have noticed a steer now and then, and havebeen sorry to find them so spring-poor. Actually, Wayne, if we wereexpecting company, we'd have to send to the ferry and get a piece ofbacon, as I haven't seen a hoof fit to kill. That roast beef which youhad for supper--well, that was sent us by a neighbor who has fat cows. About a year ago now, water was awful scarce with us, and a few old cowsdied up and down this valley. I suppose you didn't hear of it, livingso far away. Heretofore, every time we had a drouth there was such avolunteer growth of fallow-weed that the cattle got mud fat followingevery dry spell. Still I'll show you a few cattle among the guajio brushand sand hills on the divide in the morning and see what you think ofthem. But of course, if they lack flesh, in case you are buying forshipment I shan't expect you to bid on them. "

The old ranchero and the buyer rode away early the next morning, and didnot return until near the middle of the afternoon, having already agreedon a sale. I was asked to write in duplicate the terms and conditions. In substance, Las Palomas ranch agreed to deliver at Rockport on thecoast, on the twentieth of May, and for each of the following threemonths, twelve hundred and fifty beeves, four years old and upward. The consideration was $27. 50 per head, payable on delivery. I knew myemployer had oversold his holdings, but there would be no trouble inmaking up the five thousand head, as all our neighbors would gladly turnin cattle to fill the contract. The buyer was working on commission, andthe larger the quantity he could contract for, the better he was suited. After the agreement had been signed in duplicate, Mr. Orahood smilinglyadmitted that ours were the best beeves he had bought that spring. "Iknew it, " said Uncle Lance; "you don't suppose I've been ranching inthis valley over forty years without knowing a fat steer when I see one. Tom, send a _muchacho_ after a bundle of mint. Wayne, you haven't got alick of sense in riding--I'm as tired as a dog. "

The buyer returned to Shepherd's the next morning. The horse breakingwas almost completed, except allotting them into _remudas_, assigningbell mares, and putting each band under herd for a week or ten days. Theweather was fairing off, relieving the strain of riding the range, andthe ranch once more relaxed into its languid existence. By a peculiarcoincidence, Easter Sunday occurred on April the 13th that year, itbeing also the sixty-sixth birthday of the ranchero. Miss Jean usuallygave a little home dinner on her brother's birthday, and had planned onefor this occasion, which was but a few days distant. In the mail whichhad been sent for on Saturday before Easter, a letter had come from JohnCotton to his employer, saying he would start home in a few days, andwanted Father Norquin sent for, as the wedding would take place onthe nineteenth of the month. He also mentioned the fact that Theodoreexpected to spend a day or two with the Booths returning, but he wouldride directly down to the Vaux ranch, and possibly the two would reachhome about the same time. 

I doubt if Uncle Lance ever enjoyed a happier birthday than this one. There was every reason why he should enjoy it. For a man of his age, hisyears rested lightly. The ranch had never been more prosperous. Even thedrouth of the year before had not proved an ill wind; for the damagethen sustained had been made up by conditions resulting in one of thelargest sales of cattle in the history of the ranch. A chapel and threenew cottages had been built without loss of time and at very littleexpense. A number of children had been born to the soil, while thenatives were as loyal to their master as subjects in the days offeudalism. There was but one thing lacking to fill the cup tooverflowing--the ranchero was childless. Possessed with a love of theland so deep as to be almost his religion, he felt the need of an heir. 

"Birthdays to a man of my years, " said Uncle Lance, over Easter dinner, "are food for reflection. When one nears the limit of his allotteddays, and looks back over his career, there is little that satisfies. Financial success is a poor equivalent for other things. But here I ampreaching when I ought to be rejoicing. Some one get John's letter andread it again. Let's see, the nineteenth falls on Saturday. Luckyday for Las Palomas! Well, we'll have the padre here, and if he saysbarbecue a beef, down goes the fattest one on the ranch. This is theyear in which we expect to press our luck. I begin to feel it in my oldbones that the turning-point has come. When Father Norquin arrives, Ithink I'll have him preach us a sermon on the evils of single life. Butthen it's hardly necessary, for most of you boys have got your eye onsome girl right now. Well, hasten the day, every rascal of you, andyou'll find a cottage ready at a month's notice. "

The morning following Easter opened bright and clear, while on everyhand were the signs of spring. A vaquero was dispatched to the Missionto summon the padre, carrying both a letter and the compliments of theranch. Among the jobs outlined for the week was the repairing of a well, the walls of which had caved in, choking a valuable water supply withdébris. This morning Deweese took a few men and went to the well, toraise the piping and make the necessary repairs, curbing being the mostimportant. But while the foreman and Santiago Ortez were standing ona temporary platform some thirty feet down, a sudden and unexpectedcave-in occurred above them. Deweese saw the danger, called to hiscompanion, and, in a flash laid hold of a rope with which materialswere being lowered. The foreman's warning to his companion reached thehelpers above, and Deweese was hastily windlassed to the surface, butthe unfortunate vaquero was caught by the falling debris, he and theplatform being carried down into the water beneath. The body of Ortezwas recovered late that evening, a coffin was made during the night, andthe next morning the unfortunate man was laid in his narrow home. 

The accident threw a gloom over the ranch. Yet no one dreamt that asecond disaster was at hand. But the middle of the week passed withoutthe return of either of the absent boys. Foul play began to besuspected, and meanwhile Father Norquin arrived, fully expecting tosolemnize within a few days the marriage of one of the missing men. Aaron Scales was dispatched to the Vaux ranch, and returned the nextmorning by daybreak with the information that neither Quayle nor Cottonhad been seen on the Frio recently. A vaquero was sent to the Boothranch, who brought back the intelligence that neither of the missingboys had been seen since they passed northward some two weeks before. Father Norquin, as deeply affected as any one, returned to the Mission, unable to offer a word of consolation. Several days passed withouttidings. As the days lengthened into a week, the master, as deeplymortified over the incident as if the two had been his own sons, lethis suspicion fall on Quayle. And at last when light was thrown on themystery, the old ranchero's intuition proved correct. 

My injured foot improved slowly, and before I was able to resume myduties on the ranch, I rode over one day to the San Miguel for a shortvisit. Tony Hunter had been down to Oakville a few days before myarrival, and while there had met Clint Dansdale, who was well acquaintedwith Quayle and Cotton. Clint, it appeared, had been in San Antonio andmet our missing men, and the three had spent a week in the city chummingtogether. As Dansdale was also on horseback, the trio agreed to starthome the same time, traveling in company until their ways separated. Cotton had told Dansdale what business had brought him to the city, andreceived the latter's congratulations. The boys had decided to leave forhome on the ninth, and on the morning of the day set forth, moneylessbut rich in trinkets and toggery. But some where about forty miles southof San Antonio they met a trail herd of cattle from the Aransas River. Some trouble had occurred between the foreman and his men the daybefore, and that morning several of the latter had taken French leave. On meeting the travelers, the trail boss, being short-handed, hadoffered all three of them a berth. Quayle had accepted without aquestion. The other two had stayed all night with the herd, Dansdaleattempting to dissuade Cotton, and Quayle, on the other hand, persuadinghim to go with the cattle. In the end Quayle's persuasions won. Dansdaleadmitted that the opportunity appealed strongly to him, but he refusedthe trail foreman's blandishments and returned to his ranch, while thetwo Las Palomas lads accompanied the herd, neither one knowing or caringwhere they were going. 

When I returned home and reported this to my employer, he was visiblyaffected. "So that explains all, " said he, "and my surmises regardingTheodore were correct. I have no particular right to charge him withingratitude, and yet this ranch was as much his home as mine. He had thesame to eat, drink, and wear as I had, with none of the concern, and yethe deserted me. I never spoke harshly to him but once, and now I wish Ihad let him go with Captain Byler. That would have saved me Cotton andthe present disgrace to Las Palomas. I ought to have known that a goodhonest boy like John would be putty in the hands of a fellow likeTheodore. But it's just like a fool boy to throw away his chances inlife. They still sell their birthright for a mess of pottage. And therestands the empty cottage to remind me that I have something to learn. Old as I am, my temper will sometimes get away from me. Tom, you are mynext hope, and I am almost afraid some unseen obstacle will arise asthis one did. Does Frances know the facts?" I answered that Hunter hadkept the facts to himself, not even acquainting his own peoplewith them, so that aside from myself he was the first to know theparticulars. After pacing the room for a time in meditation, Uncle Lancefinally halted and asked me if Scales would be a capable messenger tocarry the news to the Vaux family. I admitted that he was the mosttactful man on the ranch. Aaron was summoned, given the particulars, andcommanded to use the best diplomacy at his command in transmitting thefacts, and to withhold nothing; to express to the ranchman and hisfamily the deep humiliation every one at Las Palomas felt over theactions of John Cotton. 

Years afterward I met Quayle at a trail town in the north. In thelimited time at our command, the old days we spent together in theNueces valley occupied most of our conversation. Unmentioned by me, hisdesertion of Las Palomas was introduced by himself, and in attempting toapologize for his actions, he said:--

"Quirk, that was the only dirty act I was ever guilty of. I never wantto meet the people the trick was practiced on. Leaving Las Palomas wasas much my privilege as going there was. But I was unfortunate enough toincur a few debts while living there that nothing but personal revengecould ever repay. Had it been any other man than Lance Lovelace, he or Iwould have died the morning Captain Byler's horse herd started from theNueces River. But he was an old man, and my hand was held and my tonguewas silent. You know the tricks of a certain girl who, with her foot onmy neck, stretched forth a welcoming hand to a rival. Tom, I have livedto pay her my last obligation in a revenge so sweet that if I die anoutcast on the roadside, all accounts are square. "

CHAPTER XXI

INTERLOCUTORY PROCEEDINGS

A big summer's work lay before us. When Uncle Lance realized thepermanent loss of three men from the working force of Las Palomas, herallied to the situation. The ranch would have to run a double outfitthe greater portion of the summer, and men would have to be secured tofill our ranks. White men who were willing to isolate themselves on afrontier ranch were scarce; but the natives, when properly treated, were serviceable and, where bred to the occupation and inclined todomesticity, made ideal vaqueros. My injured foot improved slowly, andas soon as I was able to ride, it fell to me to secure the extra helpneeded. The desertion of Quayle and Cotton had shaken my employer'sconfidence to a noticeable degree, and in giving me my orders to securevaqueros, he said:--

"Tom, you take a good horse and go down the Tarancalous and engage fivevaqueros. Satisfy yourself that the men are fit for the work, and hireevery one by the year. If any of them are in debt, a hundred dollars ismy limit of advance money to free them. And hire no man who has nota family, for I'm losing confidence every minute in single ones, especially if they are white. We have a few empty _jacals_, and the morechildren that I see running naked about the ranch, the better it suitsme. I'll never get my money back in building that Cotton cottage until Isee a mother, even though she is a Mexican, standing in the door witha baby in her arms. The older I get, the more I see my mistake independing on the white element. "

I was gone some three days in securing the needed help. It was adelicate errand, for no ranchero liked to see people leave his lands, and it was only where I found men unemployed that I applied for andsecured them. We sent wagons from Las Palomas after their few effects, and had all the families contentedly housed, either about headquartersor at the outlying ranchitas, before the first contingent of beeves wasgathered. But the attempt to induce any of the new families to occupythe stone cottage proved futile, as they were superstitious. There wasa belief among the natives, which no persuasion could remove, regardinghouses that were built for others and never occupied. The new buildingwas tendered to Tio Tiburcio and his wife, instead of their ownpalisaded _jacal_, but it remained tenantless--an eyesore to itsbuilder. 

Near the latter end of April, a contract was let for two new tanks onthe Ganso grant of land. Had it not been for the sale of beef, whichwould require our time the greater portion of the summer, it was myemployer's intention to have built these reservoirs with the ranch help. But with the amount of work we had in sight, it was decided to let thecontract to parties who made it their business and were outfitted forthe purpose. Accordingly in company with the contractor, Uncle Lance andmyself spent the last few days of the month laying off and planning thereservoir sites on two small tributaries which formed the Ganso. We wereplanning to locate these tanks several miles above the juncture of thesmall rivulets, and as far apart as possible. Then the first rainfallwhich would make running water, would assure us a year's supply on theextreme southwestern portion of our range. The contractor had a bigoutfit of oxen and mules, and the conditions called for one of thereservoirs to be completed before June 15th. Thus, if rains fell whenthey were expected, one receptacle at least would be in readiness. 

When returning one evening from starting the work, we found Tony Huntera guest of the ranch. He had come over for the special purpose of seeingme, but as the matter was not entirely under my control, my employer wasbrought into the consultation. In the docket for the May term of court, the divorce proceedings between Esther and Jack Oxenford would comeup for a hearing at Oakville on the seventh of the month. Hunter wasanxious, if possible, to have all his friends present at the trial. Butdates were getting a little close, for our first contingent of beeveswas due on the coast on the twentieth, and to gather and drive themwould require not less than ten days. A cross-bill had been filed byOxenford's attorney at the last hour, and a fight was going to be madeto prevent the decree from issuing. The judge was a hold-over fromthe reconstruction régime, having secured his appointment through theinfluence of congressional friends, one of whom was the uncle of thejunior stage man. Unless the statutory grounds were clear, there was adoubt expressed by Esther's attorney whether the court would grant thedecree. But that was the least of Hunter's fears, for in his eyes theman who would willfully abuse a woman had no rights, in court or out. Tony, however, had enemies; for he and Oxenford had had a personalaltercation, and since the separation the Martin family had taken theside of Jack's employer and severed all connections with the ranch. Thatthe mail contractors had the village of Oakville under their control, all agreed, as we had tested that on our return from Fort Worth thespring before. In all the circumstances, though Hunter had no misgivingsas to the ultimate result, yet being a witness and accused of beingthe main instigator in the case, he felt that he ought, as a matter ofprecaution, to have a friend or two with him. 

"Well, now, Tony, " said my employer, "this is crowding the mourners justa trifle, but Las Palomas was never called on in a good cause but shecould lend a man or two, even if they had to get up from the dinnertable and go hungry. I don't suppose the trial will last over a day ortwo at the furthest, and even if it did, the boys could ride home in thenight. In our first bunch and in half a day, we'll gather every beef intwo rodeos and start that evening. Steamships won't wait, and if we werea day behind time, they might want to hold out demurrage on us. If itwasn't for that, the boys could stay a week and you would be welcometo them. Of course, Tom will want to go, and about the next best manI could suggest would be June. I'd like the best in the world to gomyself, but you see how I'm situated, getting these cattle off and a newtank building at the same time. Now, you boys make your own arrangementsamong yourselves, and this ranch stands ready to back up anything yousay or do. "

Tony remained overnight, and we made arrangements to meet him, eitherat Shepherd's the evening before or in Oakville on the morning of thetrial. Owing to the behavior of Quayle and Cotton, none of us hadattended the celebration of San Jacinto Day at the ferry. Nor had anyone from the Vaux or McLeod ranches, for while they did not understandthe situation, it was obvious that something was wrong, and they hadremained away as did Las Palomas. But several of Hunter's friends fromthe San Miguel had been present, as likewise had Oxenford, and reportscame back to the ranch of the latter's conduct and of certain threats hehad made when he found there was no one present to resent them. The nextmorning, before starting home, Tony said to our _segundo_ and myself;--

"Then I'll depend on you two, and I may have a few other friends whowill want to attend. I don't need very many for a coward like JackOxenford. He is perfectly capable of abusing an unprotected woman, or anold man if he had a crowd of friends behind to sick him on. Oh, he's acur all right; for when I told him that he was whelped under a house, henever resented it. He loves me all right, or has good cause to. Why, Ibent the cylinder pin of a new six-shooter over his head when he had agun on him, and he forgot to use it. I don't expect any trouble, but ifyou don't look a sneaking cur right in the eye, he may slip up behindand bite you. "

After making arrangements to turn in two hundred beeves on our secondcontingent, and send a man with them to the coast, Hunter returned home. There was no special programme for the interim until gathering thebeeves commenced, yet on a big ranch like Las Palomas there is alwayswork. While Deweese finished curbing the well in which Ortez losthis life, I sawed off and cut new threads on all the rods and pipingbelonging to that particular windmill. With a tireless energy for oneof his years, Uncle Lance rode the range, until he could have told ata distance one half his holdings of cattle by flesh marks alone. A fewdays before the date set for the trial, Enrique brought in word oneevening that an outfit of strange men were encamped north of the riveron the Ganso Tract. The vaquero was unable to make out their business, but was satisfied they were not there for pleasure, so my employer and Imade an early start the next morning to see who the campers were. On theextreme northwestern corner of our range, fully twenty-five miles fromheadquarters, we met them and found they were a corps of engineers, running a preliminary survey for a railroad. They were in the employof the International and Great Northern Company, which was thencontemplating extending their line to some point on the Rio Grande. While there was nothing definite in this prior survey, it sounded a noteof warning; for the course they were running would carry the line up theGanso on the south side of the river, passing between the new tanks, andleaving our range through a sag in the hills on the south end of thegrant. The engineer in charge very courteously informed my employer thathe was under instructions to run, from San Antonio to different pointson the river, three separate lines during the present summer. He alsoinformed us that the other two preliminary surveys would be run fartherwest, and there was a possibility that the Las Palomas lands would bemissed entirely, a prospect that was very gratifying to Uncle Lance. 

"Tom, " said he, as we rode away, "I've been dreading this very thing foryears. It was my wish that I would never live to see the necessity offencing our lands, and to-day a railroad survey is being run across LasPalomas. I had hoped that when I died, this valley would be an openrange and as primitive as the day of my coming to it. Here a railroadthreatens our peace, and the signs are on every hand that we'll have tofence to protect ourselves. But let it come, for we can't stop it. IfI'm spared, within the next year, I'll secure every tract of land forsale adjoining the ranch if it costs me a dollar an acre. Then if itcomes to the pinch, Las Palomas will have, for all time, land and tospare. You haven't noticed the changes in the country, but nearly allthis chaparral has grown up, and the timber is twice as heavy along theriver as when I first settled here. I hate the sight even of a necessitylike a windmill, and God knows we have no need of a railroad. To a ranchthat doesn't sell fat beeves over once in ten years, transportation isthe least of its troubles. "

About dusk on the evening of the day preceding the trial, June Deweeseand I rode into Shepherd's, expecting to remain overnight. Shortly afterour arrival, Tony Hunter hastily came in and informed us that he hadbeen unable to get hotel accommodations for his wife and Esther inOakville, and had it not been that they had old friends in the village, all of them would have had to return to the ferry for the night. Thesefriends of the McLeod family told Hunter that the stage people hadcoerced the two hotels into refusing them, and had otherwise prejudicedthe community in Oxenford's favor. Hunter had learned also that thejunior member of the stage firm had collected a crowd of hangers-on, and being liberal in the use of money, had convinced the rabble of thevillage that he was an innocent and injured party. The attorney forEsther had arrived, and had cautioned every one interested on their sideof the case to be reserved and careful under every circumstance, as theyhad a bitter fight on their hands. 

The next morning all three of us rode into the village. Court had beenin session over a week, and the sheriff had sworn in several deputiesto preserve the peace, as there was considerable bitterness betweenlitigants outside the divorce case. These under-sheriffs made it a pointto see that every one put aside his arms on reaching the town, and triedas far as lay in their power to maintain the peace. During the earlydays of the reconstruction regime, before opening the term the presidingjudge had frequently called on the state for a company of Texas Rangersto preserve order and enforce the mandates of the court. But in '79there seemed little occasion for such a display of force, and a fewfearless officers were considered sufficient. On reaching the village, we rode to the house where the women were awaiting us. Fortunatelythere was ample corral room at the stable, so we were independentof hostelries and liveries. Mrs. Hunter was the very reverse of herhusband, being a timid woman, while poor Esther was very nervous underthe dread of the coming trial. But we cheered them with our presence, and by the time court opened, they had recovered their composure. 

Our party numbered four women and five men. Esther lacked severalsummers of being as old as her sister, while I was by five years theyoungest of the men, and naturally looked to my elders for leadership. Having left our arms at the house, we entered the court-room in asdecorous and well-behaved a manner as if it had been a house of worshipand this a Sabbath morning. A peculiar stillness pervaded the room, which could have been mistaken as an omen of peace, or the tensionsimilar to the lull before a battle. Personally I was composed, but asI allowed my eyes from time to time to rest upon Esther, she had neverseemed so near and dear to me as in that opening hour of court. Shelooked very pale, and moved by the subtle power of love, I vowed thatshould any harm come to or any insulting word be spoken of her, myvengeance would be sure and swift. 

Court convened, and the case was called. As might have been expected, the judge held that under the pleadings it was not a jury case. Thepanel was accordingly excused for the day, and joined those curiouslyinclined in the main body of the room. The complaining witnesses werecalled, and under direct examination the essential facts were broughtforth, laying the foundation for a legal separation. The plaintiff wasthe last witness to testify. As she told her simple story, a hushedsilence fell over the room, every spectator, from the judge on the benchto the sheriff, being eager to catch every syllable of the recital. Butas in duty bound to a client, the attorney for the defendant, a youngman who had come from San Antonio to conduct the case, opened a sharpcross-questioning. As the examination proceeded, an altercation betweenthe attorneys was prevented only by the presence of the sheriff anddeputies. Before the inquiry progressed, the attorney for the plaintiffapologized to the court, pleading extenuating circumstances in theoffense offered to his client. Under his teachings, he informed thecourt, the purity of womanhood was above suspicion, and no man whowished to be acknowledged as a gentleman among his equals would impugnor question the statement of a lady. The witness on the stand was moreto him than an ordinary client, as her father and himself had been youngmen together, had volunteered under the same flag, his friend offeringup his life in its defense, and he spared to carry home the news of anunmarked grave on a Southern battle-field. It was a privilege to him tooffer his assistance and counsel to-day to a daughter of an old comrade, and any one who had the temerity to offer an affront to this witnesswould be held to a personal account for his conduct. 

The first day was consumed in taking testimony. The defense introducedmuch evidence in rebuttal. Without regard to the truth or their oaths, aline of witnesses were introduced who contradicted every essential pointof the plaintiff's case. When the credibility of their testimony wasattacked, they sought refuge in the technicalities of the law, and weresupported by rulings of the presiding judge. When Oxenford took thestand in his own behalf, there were not a dozen persons present whobelieved the perjured statements which fell from his lips. Yet when histestimony was subjected to a rigid cross-questioning, every attempt toreach the truth precipitated a controversy between attorneys asbitter as it was personal. That the defendant at the bar had escapedprosecution for swindling the government out of large sums of money fora mail service never performed was well known to every one present, including the judge, yet he was allowed to testify against the characterof a woman pure as a child, while his own past was protected fromexposure by rulings from the bench. 

When the evidence was all in, court adjourned until the following day. That evening our trio, after escorting the women to the home of theirfriend, visited every drinking resort, hotel, and public house in thevillage, meeting groups of Oxenford's witnesses, even himself ashe dispensed good cheer to his henchmen. But no one dared to say adiscourteous word, and after amusing ourselves by a few games ofbilliards, we mounted our horses and returned to Shepherd's for thenight. As we rode along leisurely, all three of us admitted misgivingsas to the result, for it was clear that the court had favored thedefense. Yet we had a belief that the statutory grounds were sufficient, and on that our hopes hung. 

The next morning found our party in court at the opening hour. Theentire forenoon was occupied by the attorney for the plaintiff inreviewing the evidence, analyzing and weighing every particle, showingan insight into human motives which proved him a master in hisprofession. After the noon recess, the young lawyer from the cityaddressed the court for two hours, his remarks running from bombast toflights of oratory, and from eulogies upon his client to praise ofthe unimpeachable credibility of the witnesses for the defense. Inconcluding, the older lawyer prefaced his remarks by alluding to thedivine intent in the institution of marriage, and contending that ofthe two, women were morally the better. In showing the influence of thestronger upon the weaker sex, he asserted that it was in the power ofthe man to lift the woman or to sink her into despair. In his perorationhe rose to the occasion, and amid breathless silence, facing the court, who quailed before him, demanded whether this was a temple of justice. Replying to his own interrogatory, he dipped his brush in the sunshineof life, and sketched a throne with womanhood enshrined upon it. Whilechivalry existed among men, it mattered little, he said, as to thedecrees of courts, for in that higher tribunal, human hearts, womanwould remain forever in control. At his conclusion, women werehysterical, and men were aroused from their usual languor by theeloquence of the speaker. Had the judge rendered an adverse decisionat that moment, he would have needed protection; for to the men of theSouth it was innate to be chivalrous to womanhood. But the court wascautious, and after announcing that he would take the case underadvisement until morning, adjourned for the day. 

All during the evening men stood about in small groups and discussed thetrial. The consensus of opinion was favorable to the plaintiff. But inorder to offset public opinion, Oxenford and a squad of followers madethe rounds of the public places, offering to wager any sum of money thatthe decree would not be granted. Since feeling was running rather high, our little party avoided the other faction, and as we were under thenecessity of riding out to the ferry for accommodation, concluded tostart earlier than the evening before. After saddling, we rode aroundthe square, and at the invitation of Deweese dismounted before a publichouse for a drink and a cigar before starting. We were aware that thetown was against us, and to maintain a bold front was a matter ofnecessity. Unbuckling our belts in compliance with the sheriff's orders, we hung our six-shooters on the pommels of our saddles and entered thebar-room. Other customers were being waited on, and several minutespassed before we were served. The place was rather crowded, and as wewere being waited on, a rabble of roughs surged through a rear door, ledby Jack Oxenford. He walked up to within two feet of me where I stoodat the counter, and apparently addressing the barkeeper, as we werecharging our glasses, said in a defiant tone:--

"I'll bet a thousand dollars Judge Thornton refuses to grant aseparation between my wife and me. "

The words flashed through me like an electric shock, and understandingthe motive, I turned on the speaker and with the palm of my hand dealthim a slap in the face that sent him staggering back into the arms ofhis friends. Never before or since have I felt the desire to take humanlife which possessed me at that instant. With no means of defense in mypossession but a penknife, I backed away from him, he doing the like, and both keeping close to the bar, which was about twenty feet long. Inone hand I gripped the open-bladed pocket knife, and, with the otherbehind my back, retreated to my end of the counter as did Oxenford tohis, never taking our eyes off each other. On reaching his end of thebar, I noticed the barkeeper going through motions that looked likepassing him a gun, and in the same instant some friend behind me laidthe butt of a pistol in my hand behind my back. Dropping the knife, Ishifted the six-shooter to my right hand, and, advancing on the objectof my hate, fired in such rapid succession that I was unable to telleven whether my fire was being returned. When my gun was empty, theintervening clouds of smoke prevented any view of my adversary; but mylust for his life was only intensified when, on turning to my friends, Isaw Deweese supporting Hunter in his arms. Knowing that one or the otherhad given me the pistol, I begged them for another to finish my work. But at that moment the smoke arose sufficiently to reveal my enemycrippling down at the farther end of the bar, a smoking pistol in hishand. As Oxenford sank to the floor, several of his friends ran to hisside, and Deweese, noticing the movement, rallied the wounded man in hisarms. Shaking him until his eyes opened, June, exultingly as a savage, cried, "Tony, for God's sake stand up just a moment longer. Yonder helies. Let me carry you over so you can watch the cur die. " Turning to mehe continued: "Tom, you've got your man. Run for your life; don't letthem get you. "

Passing out of the house during the excitement, I was in my saddle in aninstant, riding like a fiend for Shepherd's. The sun was nearly an hourhigh, and with a good horse under me, I covered the ten miles to theferry in less than an hour. Portions of the route were sheltered bytimber along the river, but once as I crossed a rise opposite a largebend, I sighted a posse in pursuit several miles to the rear. Onreaching Shepherd's, fortunately for me a single horse stood at thehitch-rack. The merchant and owner of the horse came to the door as Idashed up, and never offering a word of explanation, I changed horses. Luckily the owner of the horse was Red Earnest, a friend of mine, andfeeling that they would not have long to wait for explanations, I shookout the reins and gave him the rowel. I knew the country, and soon leftthe river road, taking an air-line course for Las Palomas, which Ireached within two hours after nightfall. In few and profane words, Iexplained the situation to my employer, and asked for a horse that wouldput the Rio Grande behind me before morning. A number were on picketnear by, and several of the boys ran for the best mounts available. Apurse was forced into my pocket, well filled with gold. Meanwhile I hadin my possession an extra six-shooter, and now that I had a moment'stime to notice it, recognized the gun as belonging to Tony Hunter. Filling the empty chambers, and waving a farewell to my friends, Ipassed out by the rear and reached the saddle shed, where a well-knownhorse was being saddled by dexterous hands. Once on his back, I soonpassed the eighty miles between me and the Rio Grande, which I swam onmy horse the next morning within an hour after sunrise. 

CHAPTER XXII

SUNSET

Of my exile of over two years in Mexico, little need be said. By easystages, I reached the haciendas on the Rio San Juan where we hadreceived the cows in the summer of '77. The reception extended me wasall one could ask, but cooled when it appeared that my errand was oneof refuge and not of business. I concealed my offense, and was givenemployment as corporal _segundo_ over a squad of vaqueros. But whilethe hacienda to which I was attached was larger than Las Palomas, withgreater holdings in live-stock, yet my life there was one of penalservitude. I strove to blot out past memories in the innocent pleasuresof my associates, mingling in all the social festivities, dancing withthe dark-eyed seņoritas and gambling at every _fiesta_. Yet in the midstof the dissipation, there was ever present to my mind the thought ofa girl, likewise living a life of loneliness at the mouth of the SanMiguel. 

During my banishment, but twice did any word or message reach me fromthe Nueces valley. Within a few months after my locating on the Rio SanJuan, Enrique Lopez, a trusted vaquero from Las Palomas, came to thehacienda, apparently seeking employment. Recognizing me at a glance, atthe first opportunity he slipped me a letter unsigned and in an unknownhand. After reading it I breathed easier, for both Hunter and Oxenfordhad recovered, the former having been shot through the upper lobe of alung, while the latter had sustained three wounds, one of which resultedin the loss of an arm. The judge had reserved his decision until therecovery of both men was assured, but before the final adjournment ofcourt, refused the decree. I had had misgivings that this would be theresult, and the message warned me to remain away, as the stage companywas still offering a reward for my arrest. Enrique loitered around thecamp several days, and on being refused employment, made inquiry for aranch in the south and rode away in the darkness of evening. But we hadhad several little chats together, in which the rascal deliveredmany oral messages, one of which he swore by all the saints had beenintrusted to him by my own sweetheart while visiting at the ranch. ButEnrique was capable of enriching any oral message, and I was compelledto read between the lines; yet I hope the saints, to whom he dailyprayed, will blot out any untruthful embellishments. 

The second message was given me by Frank Nancrede, early in January, '81. As was his custom, he was buying saddle horses at Las Palomasduring the winter for trail purposes, when he learned of my whereaboutsin Mexico. Deweese had given him directions where I could be found, andas the Rio San Juan country was noted for good horses, Nancrede and acompanion rode directly from the Nueces valley to the hacienda where Iwas employed. They were on the lookout for a thousand saddle horses, andafter buying two hundred from the ranch where I was employed, securedmy services as interpreter in buying the remainder. We were less than amonth in securing the number wanted, and I accompanied the herd to theRio Grande on its way to Texas. Nancrede offered me every encouragementto leave Mexico, assuring me that Bethel & Oxenford had lost their mailcontract between San Antonio and Brownsville, and were now operating inother sections of the state. He was unable to give me the particulars, but frauds had been discovered in Star Route lines, and the governmenthad revoked nearly all the mail contracts in southern Texas. The trailboss promised me a job with any of their herds, and assured me that acow hand of my abilities would never want a situation in the north. I was anxious to go with him, and would have done so, but felt acompunction which I did not care to broach to him, for I was satisfiedhe would not understand. 

The summer passed, during which I made it a point to meet other droversfrom Texas who were buying horses and cattle. From several sources thereport of Nancrede, that the stage line south from San Antonio was nowin new hands, was confirmed. One drover assured me that a nationalscandal had grown out of the Star Route contracts, and several officialsin high authority had been arraigned for conspiracy to defraud. Hefurther asserted that the new contractor was now carrying the mail forten per cent, of what was formerly allowed to Bethel & Oxenford, andmaking money at the reduced rate. This news was encouraging, and afteran exile of over two years and a half, I recrossed the Rio Grande on thesame horse on which I had entered. Carefully avoiding ranches where Iwas known, two short rides put me in Las Palomas, reaching headquartersafter nightfall, where, in seclusion, I spent a restless day and night. 

A few new faces were about the ranch, but the old friends bade me awelcome and assured me that my fears were groundless. During the brieftime at my disposal, Miss Jean entertained me with numerous disclosuresregarding my old sweetheart. The one that both pleased and interested mewas that she was contented and happy, and that her resignation was dueto religious faith. According to my hostess's story, a camp meeting hadbeen held at Shepherd's during the fall after my banishment, by a sectcalling themselves Predestinarians. I have since learned that a beliefin a predetermined state is entertained by a great many good people, andI admit it seems as if fate had ordained that Esther McLeod and Ishould never wed. But it was a great satisfaction to know that she feltresigned and could draw solace from a spiritual source, even though thesame was denied to me. During the last meeting between Esther and MissJean, but a few weeks before, the former had confessed that there wasnow no hope of our ever marrying. 

As I had not seen my parents for several years, I continued my journeyto my old home on the San Antonio River. Leaving Las Palomas afternightfall, I passed the McLeod ranch after midnight. Halting my horse torest, I reviewed the past, and the best reasoning at my command showednothing encouraging on the horizon. That Esther had sought consolationfrom a spiritual source did not discourage me; for, under myobservation, where it had been put to the test, the love of man and wifeoverrode it. But to expect this contented girl to renounce her faith andbecome my wife, was expecting her to share with me nothing, unless itwas the chance of a felon's cell, and I remounted my horse and rodeaway under a starry sky, somewhat of a fatalist myself. But I derivedcontentment from my decision, and on reaching home no one could havetold that I had loved and lost. My parents were delighted to see meafter my extended absence, my sisters were growing fast into womanhood, and I was bidden the welcome of a prodigal son. During this visit a newavenue in life opened before me, and through the influence of my eldestbrother I secured a situation with a drover and followed the cattletrail until the occupation became a lost one. My last visit to LasPalomas was during the winter of 1894-95. It lacked but a few months oftwenty years since my advent in the Nueces valley. After the death ofOxenford by small-pox, I had been a frequent visitor at the ranch, business of one nature and another calling me there. But in this lastvisit, the wonderful changes which two decades had wrought in thecountry visibly impressed me, and I detected a note of decay in theold ranch. A railroad had been built, passing within ten miles of thewestern boundary line of the Ganso grant. The Las Palomas range hadbeen fenced, several large tracts of land being added after my severingactive connections with the ranch. Even the cattle, in spite of all theefforts made for their improvement, were not so good as in the old daysof the open range, or before there was a strand of wire between theNueces and Rio Grande rivers. But the alterations in the country werenothing compared to the changes in my old master and mistress. UncleLance was nearing his eighty-second birthday, physically feeble, butmentally as active as the first morning of our long acquaintance. MissJean, over twenty years the junior of the ranchero, had mellowed into aripeness consistent with her days, and in all my aimless wanderingsI never saw a brother and sister of their ages more devoted to, ordependent on each other. 

On the occasion of this past visit, I was in the employ of a live-stockcommission firm. A member of our house expected to attend the cattleconvention at Forth Worth in the near future, and I had been sent intothe range sections to note the conditions of stock and solicit for myemployers. The spring before, our firm had placed sixty thousand cattlefor customers. Demand continued, and the house had inquiry sufficient tojustify them in sending me out to secure, of all ages, not less than ahundred thousand steer cattle. And thus once more I found myself a guestof Las Palomos. 

"Don't talk cattle to me, " said Uncle Lance, when I mentioned mybusiness; "go to June--he'll give you the ages and numbers. And whateveryou do, Tom, don't oversell us, for wire fences have cut us off, untilit seems like old friends don't want to neighbor any more. In the daysof the open range, I used to sell every hoof I had a chance to, butsince then things have changed. Why, only last year a jury indicted ayoung man below here on the river for mavericking a yearling, and senthim to Huntsville for five years. That's a fair sample of these moderndays. There isn't a cowman in Texas to-day who amounts to a pinch ofsnuff, but got his start the same way, but if a poor fellow looks out ofthe corner of his eye now at a critter, they imagine he wants to stealit. Oh, I know them; and the bigger rustlers they were themselves on theopen range, the bitterer their persecution of the man who follows theirexample. "

June Deweese was then the active manager of the ranch, and aftersecuring a classification of their salable stock, I made out amemorandum and secured authority in writing, to sell their holdings atprevailing prices for Nueces river cattle. The remainder of the day wasspent with my old friends in a social visit, and as we delved into themusty past, the old man's love of the land and his matchmaking instinctsconstantly cropped out. 

"Tom, " said he, in answer to a remark of mine, "I was an awful fool tothink my experience could be of any use to you boys. Every last rascalof you went off on the trail and left me here with a big ranch tohandle. Gallup was no better than the rest, for he kept Jule Wilsonwaiting until now she's an old maid. Sis, here, always called Scales avagabond, but I still believe something could have been made of him witha little encouragement. But when the exodus of the cattle to the northwas at its height, he went off with a trail herd just like the rest ofyou. Then he followed the trail towns as a gambler, saved money, andafter the cattle driving ended, married an adventuress, and that's theend of him. The lack of a market was one of the great drawbacks toranching, but when the trail took every hoof we could breed and everyhorse we could spare, it also took my boys. Tom, when you get old, you'll understand that all is vanity and vexation of spirit. But I amperfectly resigned now. In my will, Las Palomas and everything I havegoes to Jean. She can dispose of it as she sees fit, and if I knew shewas going to leave it to Father Norquin or his successor, my fingerwouldn't be raised to stop it. I spent a lifetime of hard work acquiringthis land, and now that there is no one to care for the old ranch, Iwash my hands of it. "

Knowing the lifetime of self-sacrifice in securing the land of LasPalomas, I sympathized with the old ranchero in his despondency. 

"I never blamed you much, Tom, " he resumed after a silence; "butthere's something about cattle life which I can't explain. It seems todisqualify a man for ever making a good citizen afterward. He roams andruns around, wasting his youth, and gets so foxy he never marries. "

"But June and the widow made the riffle finally, " I protested. 

"Yes, they did, and that's something to the good, but they never hadany children. Waited ten years after Annear was killed, and then gotmarried. That was one of Jean's matches. Tom, you must go over and seeJuana before you go. There was a match that I made. Just think of it, they have eight children, and Fidel is prouder over them than I ever wasof this ranch. The natives have never disappointed me, but the Caucasianseems to be played out. "

I remained overnight at the ranch. After supper, sitting in his chairbefore a cheerful fire, Uncle Lance dozed off to sleep, leaving hissister and myself to entertain each other. I had little to say of mypast, and the future was not encouraging, except there was always workto do. But Miss Jean unfolded like the pages of an absorbing chronicle, and gave me the history of my old acquaintances in the valley. Only afew of the girls had married. Frances Vaux, after flirting away heryouth, had taken the veil in one of the orders in her church. My oldsweetheart was contentedly living a life of seclusion on the ranch onwhich she was born, apparently happy, but still interested in any wordof me in my wanderings. The young men of my acquaintance, except wheremarried, were scattered wide, the whereabouts of nearly all of themunknown. Tony Hunter had held the McLeod estate together, and it hadprospered exceedingly under his management. My old friend, Red Earnest, who outrode me in the relay race at the tournament in June, '77, wasmarried and serving in the Customs Service on the Rio Grande as amounted river guard. 

The next morning, I made the round of the Mexican quarters, greeting myold friends, before taking my leave and starting for the railroad. The cottage which had been built for Esther and me stood vacant andwindowless, being used only for a storehouse for _zacahuiste_. As I rodeaway, the sight oppressed me; it brought back the June time of my youth, even the hour and instant in which our paths separated. On reaching thelast swell of ground, several miles from the ranch, which would give mea glimpse of headquarters, I halted my horse in a farewell view. Thesleepy old ranch cosily nestled among the encinal oaks revived ahundred memories, some sad, some happy, many of which have returned inretrospect during lonely hours since.