CATTLE-RANCH 
 TO COLLEGE 
 
 A TRUE STORY OF THE FAR
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 SAN DIEGO 
 
 **
 

 
 CATTLE KANCH TO COLLEGE.
 
 CATTLE-RANCH 
 TO COLLEGE 
 
 THE TRUE TALE OF 
 A BOYS ADVENTURES 
 IN THE FAR VEST 
 
 BY 
 
 RUSSELL DOUBLEDAY 
 
 "A GUNNER ABOARD 
 THE YANKEE" 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DOUBLEDAY^M C CLURE Co 
 
 MDCCCXCIX
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1899, BT 
 DOUBLEDAY & McCLURK CO
 
 TO MY MOTHER, 
 KINDLY CRITIC, COUNSELLOR, AND FRIEND, 
 
 THIS BOOK IS 
 AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.
 
 PKEFACE. 
 
 This is a true tale of a boy's life in the West 
 twenty-five years ago. It is an account of his 
 amusements, his trials, his work, his play. The 
 incidents described actually happened and are 
 described substantially as " the boy " related 
 them to the writer. 
 
 The " wild and woolly " West is fast vanish- 
 ing, and a great deal of the adventurous life is 
 going with it. Buffalo hunts are things of the 
 past; encounters with Indians that were ex- 
 perienced in the time of John Worth's boyhood 
 are now happily very rare; railroads have pene- 
 trated the cattle country, and vast herds of cattle 
 are no longer driven long distances to the ship- 
 ping point, so that the consequent danger, hard- 
 ship, and excitement are largely done away with. 
 
 In places the great prairies have been fenced, 
 in others grain grows where heretofore only buf- 
 falo, cattle, and horses ranged, and much of the 
 free, wild life of the cowboy, the ranchman, and 
 the miner is gone for all time.
 
 viii PREFA CE. 
 
 It is hoped that this book will be of interest, 
 not because of its novelty but of its truthfulness. 
 The author feels that the story of a boy who has 
 passed through the stern training of a frontier 
 life to an honorable place in an Eastern univer- 
 sity will be acceptable to boys young and old.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. AN INDIAN ATTACK 1 
 
 II. THE YOUNG BRAVE'S DARING ... 20 
 
 III. A NARROW ESCAPE 36 
 
 IV. HITTING THE TRAIL 54 
 
 V. IN A MINING CAMP 73 
 
 VI. A SNOWSHOE RACE 91 
 
 VII. A BUFFALO HUNT . . . . .106 
 
 VIII. A CLOSE FINISH 122 
 
 IX. A "BAD MAN'S" END .... 140 
 
 X. BATTLE ROYAL 157 
 
 XI. A TRYING JOURNEY .... 177 
 
 XII. A CHANGE OF SCENE .... 195 
 
 XIII. HERDING HORSES AND PANNING GOLD . . 214 
 
 XIV. A MIGRATION 229 
 
 XV. "RANGE-RIDING" . . .- . . 245 
 
 XVI. A BRONCHO BUSTER . . ... . ggi 
 
 XVII. A COW-PUNCHER IN EARNEST . 273
 
 x CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XVIII. A MIDNIGHT STAMPEDE . . . .289 
 
 XIX. AN AWAKENING 304 
 
 XX. A TRANSFORMATION 317 
 
 XXI. TWELVE HUNDRED MILES AWHEEL TO COL- 
 LEGE . . 331
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 A XXX BUNCH 
 
 MOUNTING A BUCKING BRONCHO 
 GLANCING OVER SAW AN INDIAN VILLAGE 
 OUSTER'S COMMAND 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 . 14 
 
 . 32 
 
 50 
 
 THE TAIL OF THE COOK'S WAGON WAS LET DOWN 
 THE STOCK OF THE RIFLE RESTED CLOSELY AGAINST 
 
 His CHEEK 
 
 BEN WENT OVER TO WHERE THE GAME LAY 
 
 ROPING AN UNBROKEN HORSE 
 
 "CROW HAT'S FACING THIS WAY" . 
 
 THE INDIAN CAMP 
 
 THE BIGGEST GAME THE COUNTRY AFFORDED . 
 A SQUAW . . . JUST SAW SOME BUFFALO . 
 A SHEPHERD ALONE WITH His FLOCK 
 A DIFFICULT TASK IF THERE ARE MANY LAMBS IN 
 
 THE FLOCK 
 
 MR. WORTH HAD BUILT FOR HIMSELF A NEW HOUSE 
 
 THE SHEEP RANCH HOUSE 
 
 HE . . . BUCKS, PITCHES, KICKS 
 
 CURRAN, BRADY'S NIGHT WRANGLER . . . 
 
 62 
 
 98 
 104 
 
 118 
 136 
 
 146 
 158 
 
 170 
 190
 
 xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 THE MEN BROKE UP INTO LITTLE GROUPS . . 210 
 A ROPE CORRAL WAS DRAWN ABOUT THE SADDLE 
 
 BAND 220 
 
 EACH MAN TOOK His ROPE AND FLUNG IT OVER THE 
 
 HORSE HE WANTED 236 
 
 A LITTLE Box OF A CABIN IT WAS .... 248 
 THE SNUBBING POST HOLDS HIM PAST 
 
 JERRY TAKES IN THE SLACK f-264 
 
 JOHN KNOTS THE ROPE LOOSELY ROUND HIS NECK 
 
 ROPED 
 
 THROWN j-278 
 
 WHOSE is IT ? A QUESTION OF OWNERSHIP 
 
 DRAGGED IT UP TO THE FIRE ] 
 
 1290 
 . . . WHILE THE IRON WAS APPLIED . . . J 
 
 HERDS WERE POURING IN FROM EVERY DIRECTION . 308 
 THE DRIVE FORDING A STREAM .... 320 
 THE SUN RIVER RANCH HOUSE . . 334
 
 MARGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 BY 
 JANET MAC DONALD. 
 
 The drawings of beaver, etc., on pages 75, 84, and 90, 
 by Ernest Seton Thompson are reproduced through the 
 courtesy of Recreation.
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE.
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO 
 COLLEGE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AN INDIAN ATTACK. 
 
 A solitary horseman rode into the little fron- 
 tier town of Bismarck, shortly after dark one 
 evening, about twenty-five years ago. Horse 
 and rider passed up the single unpaved street; 
 in the darkness no one noticed the fagged con- 
 dition of the animal, nor the excitement of the 
 rider, betokened by the continued urging of his 
 weary pony. 
 
 The town was unusually full of the nomadic 
 people who made up its population, cow- 
 punchers, saloon keepers, gamblers, freighters, 
 and outlaws. The evening quiet was constantly 
 broken by the bounds of revelry, and the report 
 of a pistol occasionally punctuated the general 
 1
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 noise as some hilarious cowboy playfully shot at 
 the lights. 
 
 In the dim ray cast across the street through 
 the small windows of the saloons and dance halls, 
 no one saw the horseman ride up the street to 
 " Black Jack's," one of the most conspicuous 
 saloons; here he stiffly dismounted and tied his 
 pony to the pole where stood a row of other 
 horses. After glancing around to see that all 
 was secure, he entered. He was hailed with a 
 chorus of shouted greetings and questions. 
 
 "Hello, Harry! what's the matter?" 
 
 " Why, there's Harry Hodson ! What drove 
 you down the trail to-night? " 
 
 "Are you dry, old man? Come and drive a 
 nail with me." 
 
 These and many more questions poured in on 
 him so thick and fast that no chance, for some 
 time, was given him to speak. 
 
 As the crowd drew around the newcomer, who 
 was a sober, steady cattleman from twenty-five 
 miles up the river, they noticed that there was 
 something out of the ordinary in his manner. 
 Even the fact of his appearance at that place and 
 hour was unusual. 
 
 "No, boys," he said, in answer to the many 
 invitations to drink. "I think we'll all need 
 clear heads before daylight." 
 2
 
 AN INDIAN ATTACK 
 
 "Why, what's the trouble?" chorused the 
 crowd. 
 
 " The fact is," continued Hodson, hurriedly, 
 " I cached my cattle and then came down to 
 tell you that a big bunch of Indians crossed the 
 river above my place this afternoon, and they 
 looked as if they were on the war path." 
 
 All were attentive now, and even the most 
 reckless of these wild men, living continually 
 in the midst of dangers, wore grave faces. 
 
 " I didn't stop to investigate. I wasn't taking 
 any chances, you see," he went on. " So I ran 
 my cattle over onto Woody Island and then 
 started down the trail, giving the word to the 
 fellows along the road. Ilostiles have been 
 pretty thick across the river lately, and I've had 
 to watch out." 
 
 By this time all hands were thoroughly inter- 
 ested. As Hodson went on with his tale, the 
 men drew nearer to him, their faces showing 
 how keenly they realized what his news might 
 mean to all. 
 
 Questions followed thick and fast. 
 
 "How many were there? Where did they 
 cross ? " asked one. . 
 
 "How many horses? Did they have any 
 squaws with them? " 
 
 Without giving Hodson a chance to answer, 
 8
 
 CATTLE RANCn TO COLLEGE. 
 
 they all began to talk in an excited babel of 
 voices, advancing opinions and theories as to what 
 had taken place. One big fellow, in a red flannel 
 shirt, asserted that they must have crossed the 
 river at Elbow Island; another contradicted this 
 statement and said that the stream was too wide 
 at this point and that they crossed in " bull 
 boats," as the rude craft made of buffalo or 
 cow hides stretched over strong light frames of 
 willow were called. 
 
 Hodson stood apart while this discussion was 
 going on, with the bored air of one who was 
 fully acquainted with the facts and could end 
 the unnecessary talk in a moment if he was al- 
 lowed an opportunity. 
 
 " Big Bill " Smith, one of the older men, took 
 in the situation. " Dry up," said he; " let Harry 
 talk, will you? He's the only one who knows 
 anything." 
 
 " Well," said Harry, as the crowd once more 
 turned to him, " there isn't much talking to do, 
 but there's plenty of hustling ahead for us. 
 About two hundred Indians crossed the river up 
 at Sioux Ford. They were travelling pretty 
 light, and I guess they ase looking for beef or 
 anything else they can lay their hands on ; prob- 
 ably they think they can scare us off with a few 
 shots and then run the stock off. They had a lot 
 4
 
 AN INDIAN ATTACK. 
 
 of horses not enough, to go around but a lot. 
 We've got to get ready for them on the jump, 
 for if they're coming they'll be here before day- 
 light, and the stock and wagons will have to be 
 got in right away." 
 
 " Somebody go for Jim Mackenzie," said Big 
 Bill. 
 
 As one of the men started for the door to 
 carry out this order, a tall, commanding figure, 
 grizzled and somewhat bent, but more from 
 hardship than from age, entered the room. He 
 was recognized at once as the sheriff: the cen- 
 tral figure when trouble was brewing, but a re- 
 tiring, inconspicuous citizen when all was peace- 
 ful. 
 
 When action was required he was in his ele- 
 ment. A man to depend on in time of trouble, 
 one to command in an emergency. It was very 
 noticeable that these rough cattlemen, accus- 
 tomed to depend upon themselves, who when off 
 duty acknowledged no law except their own 
 wishes, instinctively looked for a leader when 
 confronted with this common danger. No one 
 thought for an instant of questioning his orders, 
 but obeyed with military precision. For the 
 time, his word was law. 
 
 "Harry," said the sheriff, turning to the 
 bringer of these bad tidings, after the above facts 
 5
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 had been told him, "you put your saddle on 
 my bay and take a couple of men with you back 
 on the trail. Bring back Jim White and his 
 outfit of wagons and stock; he's camped down 
 on Hay Creek. There are some smaller outfits 
 on the Black Hills road; better help them get 
 in. You'll want to hustle/' he added, as Hodson 
 and his two helpers went out. 
 
 " Smith," continued the sheriff, issuing orders 
 as fast as a pony could trot, " take a couple of 
 men and get in the circle bar O stock, there's 
 only a night-herder with them. The rest of you 
 who have wagons and stock out, bring them in 
 yourselves. All you loose men," he added, as 
 he noticed that several men still lingered in the 
 hot, close, smoke-filled room, "get your guns, 
 saddle up, and come to my shack." 
 
 The sheriff had been in the place but five 
 minutes, but now fat Sam Whitney, a frequenter 
 of the place, Black Jack, the saloon keeper, and 
 a couple of soldiers from the fort across the river, 
 were all that remained with him. 
 
 The men outside could be heard saddling up, 
 struggling with their refractory horses, and call- 
 ing out to each other; from time to time the 
 rapidly diminishing sound of galloping hoofs 
 came to the ears of the silent men who for the 
 moment remained motionless. 
 6
 
 AN INDIAN ATTACK. 
 
 The sheriff was planning his defence against 
 the expected Indian attack, and the men who 
 were with him, without a word, waited for the 
 announcement of his next move. It was Jim 
 Mackenzie, and they put themselves in his hands 
 with blind confidence. 
 
 Bismarck was a frontier town in the full sense 
 of the word. A collection of rude houses, more 
 or less strongly built of logs and dried mud, strag- 
 gled along the single street. Placed at the inter- 
 section of the expected railroad and the Missouri 
 River, a town of considerable size was mapped 
 and many streets with high-sounding names were 
 projected. But only Main Street was actually 
 laid out. The houses, which their inhabitants 
 called shacks, were built on the north side of 
 the street facing the south, in obedience to 
 the natural law of cold climates, so Bismarck 
 boasted really of but half a street, and that a 
 short one. 
 
 Fort Abraham Lincoln, situated directly across 
 the river, was supposed to afford protection to 
 the settlers from the Indian marauders, but the 
 hardy, self-reliant frontiersmen were generally 
 able to take care of themselves. Not many of 
 the inhabitants stayed the year round. The few 
 who did remain through all seasons the saloon 
 keepers, horseshoers, stable keepers, and the 
 7
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 three families dwelt in the more pretentious 
 houses. The other residences were mere tem- 
 porary shelters, which their owners would not 
 have considered worth fitting up had they been 
 able to do so. 
 
 Around the outskirts of the town were always 
 a number of freight outfits, and this night was 
 no exception to the general rule. The cum- 
 brous wagons were drawn in a circle, harnesses 
 lying in a seemingly hopeless tangle on the 
 wagon tongues, and the tents were pitched 
 against their sides or canvas lean-to's were rigged 
 up. A number of greasy men lounged around 
 the campfires, some sleeping, some re-braiding 
 whips, some mending harness or chopping out 
 new brake blocks. The work stock were grazing 
 at a little distance where the grass was good, 
 guarded by an armed herder. 
 
 To these freighters' camps came the sheriff 
 himself to warn them of the impending danger. 
 Immediately all was activity. The work stock 
 were brought, and, in a trice, harnessed to the 
 heavy wagons. The mules were urged forward 
 with shouts and cracking of whips, and soon the 
 whole outfit was on its way to form a cordon 
 around the town, or, at least, on the side that was 
 most likely to be attacked. 
 
 Mackenzie rode with the wagon-train for a 
 8
 
 AN INDIAN ATTACK. 
 
 short distance, then branched off after giving 
 some final orders, or rather suggestions, for any 
 emergency that might arise. 
 
 " So long," he said. 
 
 " So long," said the driver of the leading team. 
 (Whether a man was leaving for a trip across the 
 street or across the continent, the parting words 
 were, invariably, " So long.") 
 
 Mackenzie went on his way, skirting the town, 
 keeping his eyes and ears wide open. There 
 was nothing within hearing to indicate that the 
 settlement was in danger of attack from the 
 dreaded Indian. The teamsters could still be 
 heard shouting to their mules, and an occasional 
 creaking squeak from the wagons broke the still- 
 ness. The sheriff listened in vain for more omi- 
 nous sounds. 
 
 " The reds are still pretty far off, or they are 
 keeping mighty dark," he said to himself, as he 
 put spurs to his horse and galloped towards one 
 of the better-looking houses that stood on a 
 little rise some distance from the Main Street 
 settlement. Messengers had been sent in every
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 direction, to warn sleeping citizens, and all had 
 been arranged for except this household, one of 
 the three families of the town. 
 
 Mackenzie rode up to the door and, without 
 dismounting, knocked. 
 
 In an instant there was a sound of bustling, for 
 the Westerner sleeps with one eye open, and is 
 ready at a moment's notice for anything that may 
 occur. 
 
 " "Who's there? " shouted a voice. 
 
 " Mackenzie," answered the sheriff. 
 
 Almost at the same moment the door opened, 
 and a man stepped out. 
 
 " Hello, Worth! " said the sheriff. " You'd 
 better bring the wife and children further down. 
 Harry Hodson just came down the trail and re- 
 ports a big bunch of Indians a few miles up, 
 and " 
 
 But Worth did not wait to hear any more. 
 
 "John," Worth shouted back into his shack; 
 "you and Ben help your mother pack up the 
 bedding and take care of the baby. We've got 
 to be lively. You know what to do. You 
 see, Mac," he said, turning to the horseman, 
 " I thought I might as well get things started 
 while you were telling me about these hostiles." 
 
 " All right," said the sheriff. " Good scheme. 
 You might as well saddle up and come along 
 10
 
 AN INDIAN ATTACK. 
 
 with me so you can find a place beforehand for 
 the wife and kids." 
 
 In a few minutes both men were on their way 
 to the centre of the town : Mackenzie, to send out 
 his pickets and guards, and to arrange the placing 
 of stock and wagons ; Worth, to find a temporary- 
 shelter for his family. The boys, John and Ben, 
 were left behind to look after the home, pack up 
 the goods, catch and saddle the horses. It was a 
 seemingly big task for boys of ten and twelve, 
 but from the time these boys were able to walk 
 they in common with other boys of the fron- 
 tier had to look out largely for themselves. 
 They were strong, sturdy little chaps. John, 
 the elder, was his father's right-hand man, and 
 when Mr. Worth was away on one of his fre- 
 quent freighting trips, John was often called 
 upon to take care of the family in emergencies 
 much like the present one. 
 
 In this frontier town, the reports of bands of 
 hostile Indians coming to raid and kill were not 
 uncommon. The single man, active, mounted, 
 armed with weapons as familiar to him as his 
 right hand, had no fear of not being able to out- 
 wit or escape the enemy, wily as the redskins 
 were. In fact, the Indians themselves were well 
 aware of the ability of the plainsmen to cope 
 with them when unhampered by w^omen and 
 11
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 children, so they practically never began hos- 
 tilities until they could get their white enemies 
 at a disadvantage. The few families were, there- 
 fore, their especial point of attack. It was their 
 helplessness that tempted the onslaught and 
 aroused the savage instincts of these marauders. 
 When the head of the family, the bread winner, 
 was away, the dread of these fearful, relentless 
 attacks on his helpless ones abode with him al- 
 ways. The mother and children, left at home, 
 lived always under the shadow of the same fear. 
 
 John and his brother, therefore, fully under- 
 stood the danger and the need for speedy and 
 careful preparation. They had often, at the 
 warning of the hostiles' approach, helped their 
 mother make a fort of the solid log house by 
 piling up the scanty furniture and bedding 
 against the doors and windows, leaving only loop- 
 holes for their rifles; and though the present situ- 
 ation was one that would make ordinary boys 
 useless through fear, John and Ben, on the con- 
 trary, were too busy to worry; they knew exactly 
 what was to be done, and in their sturdy, inde- 
 pendent way went to work to do it. 
 
 " Say, Ben," said John, as they went toward 
 
 the corral (the circular inclosure in which the 
 
 saddle horses were kept), " I'll bet it's just those 
 
 Indians we saw across the river, day before yes- 
 
 12
 
 AN INDIAN ATTACK. 
 
 terday, while we were hunting Gannons' horses. 
 There was a lot of squaws in that bunch, do you 
 remember? " 
 
 " That's right/' assented Ben; " and I'll bet 
 that some of Gannons' horses were in that lot 
 of Indian ponies. If it was ten dollars reward 
 instead of five, it might have been worth while 
 to run the risk of trying to find out ; but five dol- 
 lars is too little to go fooling around a strange 
 Indian's camp for." 
 
 The talk was ended by their arrival at the 
 corral and the subsequent busy time catching 
 and bridling of the horses. The ponies were 
 then led to the door, where they were saddled. 
 As they were cinching them up as the tighten- 
 ing of the girths is called Mr. Worth returned. 
 In a few minutes the whole family were on their 
 way to the Sebells', one of the other Bismarck 
 families who lived on Main Street. 
 
 In town they found all activity. Horsemen 
 were galloping to and fro, cattle, horses, and 
 mules dashed in and out, wagons driven at full 
 speed crossed and recrossed the dusty street. As 
 soon as they were installed at their new-found 
 shelter and their household goods disposed of, 
 John went with his father to get in the extra 
 stock of horses and mules, for, next to his family, 
 these are the freighter's chief care. 
 13
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 They found their stock together, as was ex- 
 pected, for animals, particularly horses, that 
 come from the same place, always stay together. 
 This instinct made it much easier for the herder 
 to gather his own, when there were many ani- 
 mals belonging to different outfits on a com- 
 mon grazing ground. The Worth stock was 
 promptly driven inside the now almost complete 
 circle of wagons, and there tied. 
 
 A group of men were busy piling up boxes, 
 barrels, and bales, taken from the freighters' 
 wagons, into the semblance of breastworks. As 
 John and his father approached, the sheriff came 
 forward and joined them. 
 
 " Family all right, Worth ? " he asked, kindly. 
 " I sent up a couple of men to help you and they 
 reported that your shack was deserted and the 
 place locked up for keeps. You didn't waste any 
 time." 
 
 " That was good of you, Mac," said Mr. 
 Worth, holding out his hand. " How you're 
 able to think of so many things at once, beats me. 
 Yes, we got out in pretty quick shape; you see 
 my boys, Johnny here and Ben, are first-rate 
 hands to depend on in an emergency. They did 
 pretty near the whole thing to-night. By the 
 way, the boys were hunting horses up the river 
 day before yesterday, and saw quite a large 
 14
 
 AN INDIAN ATTACK. 
 
 bunch of Indians in the brush below Harry 
 Hodson's." 
 
 " Why didn't you say something about this 
 before ? " interrupted the sheriff, turning to 
 John. 
 
 " Ben and I have seen plenty of Indians," said 
 John, eagerly. " There were a lot of squaws in 
 this bunch, so I didn't believe they were a war 
 party. We didn't think anything more about 
 them until this scare came up to-night." 
 
 " Well, you have got a good head on you, 
 young man. I don't know but you are right, 
 and this may be a false alarm. Still Hodson 
 generally knows what he's talking about." The 
 sheriff was speaking more to himself than to his 
 hearers. " I'm glad we've got a lot of first-rate 
 scrappers with us; I guess the reds would think 
 twice if they knew what they were running up 
 against." 
 
 All was now comparatively quiet. The work 
 and strain of preparation was succeeded by a time ;-{ 
 of waiting, a period of suspense that was, per- 3 
 haps, harder to bear than the first shock of the -f[ 
 unpleasant news. 
 
 John and his father returned to their tem- 
 porary home to calm the mother's fears. Mrs. 
 Worth had the family rifle ready, and Ben had 
 polished and oiled every cartridge in the belt, 
 15
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 so that they would slip in without jamming. Mr. 
 Worth shouldered the gun and went out, leaving 
 the boys with their mother. Though all was now 
 quiet and his mother and brother were asleep, 
 John could not close his eyes. He understood, 
 as his younger brother could not, the danger that 
 menaced the household and the town. Death, 
 swift, by knife or bullet, or slow through tor- 
 ture, was sure to come if that band of Indians 
 got inside the inclosure. He had heard grus- 
 some tales describing the treatment that the sav- 
 ages meted out to their prisoners and the horror 
 of it would not leave him. At last he could 
 stand it no longer. Quickly he rose from the 
 heap of bedding and stole to the door. He was 
 fully dressed, and his little six-shooter still slung 
 on his left hip where he had buckled it when the 
 sheriff first knocked at the home shack. 
 
 All was still outside, except for the occasional 
 stamping of a pony or the distant wail of a 
 coyote. Pickets were posted just over the rise 
 to the north of the town, from which direction 
 the attack was expected. They were to give 
 warning of the approach of the Indians by a rifle 
 shot.
 
 AN INDIAN ATTACK. 
 
 Suddenly there was borne on the breeze to the 
 waiting men the sound of galloping horses. 
 Louder it grew, then fainter; then again still 
 louder. So the sound wavered, but ever came 
 nearer. 
 
 The watchers sprang to their feet, rifles ready, 
 eyes gleaming. 
 
 " Steady, boys," said the calm voice of Mac- 
 kenzie. " Wait a bit." 
 
 Still the thumping of many hoofs approached 
 nearer. 
 
 What had become of the pickets? Had they 
 been all killed with the enemy's noiseless arrows? 
 Or had they been lured away beyond hearing 
 and shot? 
 
 Daylight was breaking; the enemy could now 
 be seen, that was one comfort. And as they 
 stood, ears alert, eyes strained, their nerves keyed 
 up to the tensest pitch, awaiting the onslaught, 
 that ominous noise of hoof-beats came ever 
 nearer, nearer, nearer. 
 
 Suddenly a horse's head appeared above the 
 brow of the hill, then another and another until 
 quite a score or more were in plain view. They 
 dashed down the incline toward the corral of 
 wagons. But they were all riderless ! Presently 
 two riders appeared. They shouted a greeting 
 as they came down the hill and explained that 
 2 17
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 they were of the 1ST bar 1ST outfit (that is to say, 
 their brand bore these marks: j). 
 
 A space was hastily cleared between the 
 wagons to allow these newcomers' horses to enter 
 the in closure; but it was too late; the bunch 
 parted, turning to right and left. The two 
 herders also separated in pursuit, each following 
 a bunch. 
 
 Immediate danger over, the waiting men re- 
 laxed their extra vigilance, and all hands watched 
 the efforts of the two herders in their vain at- 
 tempts to head off their charges. The sheriff 
 was just saying, " I wish some of you fellows 
 would help round up that bunch; we want to get 
 them all in before the hostiles show up," when. 
 a third horseman appeared, riding like the wind. 
 
 " Say, that chap has got a fresh horse," said 
 " Casino," one of the freighters. 
 
 The new arrival, after a headlong dash, re- 
 gardless of ditches, brush, and badger holes, suc- 
 ceeded in rounding up the frightened horses, and 
 with the help of the herder, drove them into 
 camp. A similar performance soon brought in 
 the other bunch. 
 
 As the new rider trotted in through the gap, 
 some one shouted : " What'll you take for that 
 horse? He's a regular whirlwind." 
 
 " Yes," said one of the herders, " he's a dandy, 
 18
 
 AN INDIAN ATTACK. 
 
 isn't he? My stock would have got away if 
 Johnny Worth hadn't come out on Baldy." 
 
 " So it's Johnny Worth, eh! " said Bill Smith. 
 " Good work, kid." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Johnny, " they're only worn-out, 
 winded plugs; they were easy for Baldy. He 
 was saddled and all ready," the boy added in ex- 
 planation. 
 
 "Well done, Johnny," said the sheriff, who 
 had once before that night praised the boy's 
 pluck. Then, turning to the group about him, 
 " Some of you boys had better get breakfast," 
 said he; " there's no telling when that war party 
 may turn up, and you must eat now when you 
 have the chance." 
 
 19
 
 t 
 CHAPTEK II. 
 
 THE YOUXG BRAVE'S DARING. 
 
 While the men were eating (a sufficient num- 
 ber being left to keep watch and guard) in one 
 of the dance halls, which was hastily impressed 
 for the purpose, the herders of the !N" bar N out- 
 fit were questioned as to their knowledge of the 
 Indians. 
 
 They reported that the redskins were in force 
 and were coming rapidly in the direction of the 
 town. That while they were guarding their 
 stock, they were startled by the sudden appear- 
 ance of an Indian near them, who yelled and 
 waved his blanket, and finally succeeded in 
 stampeding the animals. They started off at a 
 gallop after the horses, and this solitary brave 
 forthwith disappeared. 
 
 The stock stampeded but the herders stayed 
 with them, riding full speed over all sorts of 
 rough country. The Indians appeared at inter- 
 vals in pursuit of them, and added to the con- 
 fusion and danger by keeping up a running fire. 
 20
 
 THE YOUNG BRAVE'S DARING. 
 
 The herders said they were about to give up 
 the attempt to keep their charges out of the sav- 
 ages' hands when they came in sight of the town. 
 " Even then," said one 01 the men, called Sing- 
 ing Jim, " we couldn't have corralled the beasts 
 if that youngster hadn't chased out to help us on 
 a fresh horse, and a fast one at that." 
 
 " We'll have troubles yet," said the other 
 herder, Calamity Jake he was called, because of 
 his ability to see small black clouds of evil a 
 great distance off. " Plenty of trouble, too, in 
 the shape of Indians on the warpath. They 
 were not far behind us when we reached these 
 diggin's." 
 
 " What became of your wagons? " said Harry 
 Hodson, a mouthful of beans interfering some- 
 what with his speech. 
 
 " Oh, I guess they're done for. Probably 
 makin' light for the Indians to do a war dance 
 by," remarked Singing Jim, cheerfully. 
 
 " I reckon not," said Mackenzie, who had ap- 
 peared in time to hear the last; " they'll not show 
 their location by making a big blaze like 
 
 " I heard a shot fired from over the hill," 
 shouted Johnny, who stuck his head in at the 
 door that moment. " Maybe it's one of the 
 pickets." 
 
 The men jumped up and made a rush for the 
 21
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 door. The herder, Singing Jim, who was the 
 last man out, exclaimed as he disappeared, 
 " Well, if that kid ain't ubikkertous, as the 
 States' papers say! " 
 
 Several shots were now heard and then the 
 pickets topped the rise and made a break down 
 the slope to the town. 
 
 The enemy was close,but still invisible behind 
 the ridge. 
 
 The men lay crouched behind their barricade, 
 silent, alert, ready for what might come. The 
 three pickets made their way back to the breast- 
 works and reported that the advance guard had 
 shown itself coming down a coulie half a mile 
 away, and the main body, probably fifty strong, 
 was straggling after when the pickets last looked 
 back. A long night of vigil and hurried prepa- 
 ration had told on these watchers and they were 
 anxious to begin the work and end the suspense. 
 The short ten minutes which elapsed seemed ten 
 hours. Then tw r o Indians rode to the top of the 
 ridge and looked down upon the preparations for 
 their reception. They were a long rifle shot dis- 
 tant and the defenders had no ammunition to 
 spare. Moreover, if unprovoked, the redskins 
 might go without firing a shot. To tell the 
 truth, however, especially when they saw the un- 
 likelihood of making a successful assault, most 
 32
 
 THE YOUNG BRAVE'S DARING. 
 
 of the little garrison were in the mood to feel 
 disappointed if the attack ended so harmlessly. 
 
 " If those fellows are hard up for a fight," 
 said Big Bill Smith, "maybe they'll tackle us; 
 but I never saw an Indian yet that would ride 
 a quarter of a mile in the open under fire even 
 when he wanted something to eat," and Bill 
 knew Indians. 
 
 " They won't leave without tryin' us," said 
 Casino. " You'll see if I ain't right." 
 
 A moment later two painted and befeathered 
 savages appeared to the left, and rode full tilt 
 along the hillside in direct view of the camp, 
 yelling and waving their blankets in derision: a 
 tantalizing sight to the waiting men. 
 
 " Keep steady, there," called Mackenzie, 
 sternly, as several rifles were raised. " There's 
 no use shooting now; they're only trying to draw 
 our fire and find out how strong we are. There'll 
 be more presently. Wait for them." 
 
 A few minutes later half a dozen braves re- 
 peated the ruse. The flying figures, almost 
 naked, being poor targets, the fire of the little 
 garrison was still reserved. A dozen then made 
 the run, one following the other, at regular 
 intervals. More and more of the painted, yell- 
 ing, gesticulating savages followed, dashing 
 along the slope in single file and disappearing 
 23
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 over the ridge to the right, until what was a 
 short line became a procession. 
 
 Presently they began to creep down the hill, 
 each rider advancing beyond the one preceding 
 him, all yelling epithets of contempt as they 
 came ever nearer the silent garrison. 
 
 This was the regular mode of Indian attack; 
 it afforded them an opportunity to fire and yet 
 gave their enemy a very poor chance to do any 
 damage. 
 
 A desultory firing began; each Indian letting 
 go his reins, fired his rifle as best he could as he 
 rushed past. The shooting was naturally bad, 
 for there was no chance to take careful aim. If 
 the savages planned, however, to draw the fire of 
 the besieged and so determine their strength, the 
 scheme failed, for not a shot was fired from the 
 camp, though the provocation was great. 
 
 The rushing line came closer and closer. The 
 colors of the war paint and fluttering feathers 
 could now be plainly seen. It was within easy 
 range, but still the fire was withheld. Each 
 Indian had worked himself into the frenzy which 
 is so necessary a part of a brave's courage. 
 
 As the distance was lessened, the savages' aim 
 
 became better, and several bullets struck the 
 
 wagons and the barricade. The situation began 
 
 to be interesting; any shot might now reach its 
 
 24
 
 THE YOUNG BRAVE'S DARING. 
 
 human target, and the temptation to return the 
 fire was almost irresistible. 
 
 But the sheriff only said, " Not yet." 
 
 The bullets were striking freely and the yell- 
 ing enemy were within easy revolver range. 
 
 At last Mackenzie, who showed signs of sup- 
 pressed eagerness, said, just loud enough to be 
 heard : " Boys, don't shoot when your man is 
 opposite; wait till he has passed, then aim at his 
 back and shoot straight. You can't hit him 
 otherwise. Ready now. Fire ! " 
 
 This was not a military company, but a band 
 of frontiersmen, which a common danger united 
 under the leadership of one man. The volley 
 which followed, therefore, was not one of pre- 
 cision, for every man took his time and pulled 
 the trigger when he was ready. 
 
 The Indians, anticipating a return fire, rode 
 by at full speed, their bodies hugging their horses 
 closely. They made difficult targets, so the first 
 few shots did nothing more than kill and disable 
 a horse or two; but soon the fire became more 
 rapid and accurate. A big buck was seen to fall 
 out of his saddle, another was thrown violently 
 from a wounded horse, several were hit in arms 
 and legs. The yelling diminished and the line 
 moved further up the slope, scattering as it went. 
 
 As the file, now rather scattered, turned the 
 25
 
 '"^^ . 
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 ridge at the right, firing as it moved, a young 
 buck, in full war regalia and mounted on a beau- 
 tiful bay pony, bounded into view. He dashed 
 out of the circle of Indians, and rode boldly down 
 toward the white men, yelling defiance. 
 
 He was a young chief endeavoring to earn the 
 approval of his tribe and the consequent advance- 
 ment and influence, according to the custom of 
 the Sioux. Down the hill he came with a rush 
 right into the thick of the fire, and yet, though 
 the bullets whistled on all sides of him, he was 
 unharmed. Nearer and nearer he drew, until 
 he reached a point within two hundred yards of 
 the white man's guns. Then he stopped, turned 
 his pony half-way round and flourished his re- 
 volver derisively, yelling imprecations at the 
 garrison the while. He then fired a shot which 
 came so close to John, that he was sure he could 
 feel the wind of it the sound was unmistakable. 
 
 After this reckless feat, the young chief 
 trotted slowly back to his own people, but kept 
 his face always towards his enemies. The daring 
 of the deed took both sides by surprise, and for 
 a time hardly a shot was fired by white man or 
 red. It was a tribute to the young brave's cour- 
 age and bravado. 
 
 It would not do, however, to let him escape 
 unharmed. Other warriors might be inspired to 
 26
 
 THE YOUNG BRAVE'S DARING. 
 
 emulate the rash act, and if they took it into their 
 heads to rush the stockade there would certainly 
 be much loss of life. 
 
 The Indians now began firing again, covering 
 as well as possible their comrade's retreat. Those 
 behind the barricade also woke up. 
 
 "Shoot that fellow, boys," cried Big Bill. 
 " He mustn't get away unhurt. We've got to 
 discourage that sort of thing." 
 
 Every man aimed at the fleeing Indian, but 
 still he rode with his face towards his foe, gestur- 
 ing defiance. The feathers in his war-bonnet 
 fluttered in the wind, and the quirt hung on his 
 upraised right wrist swayed with the motion of 
 his pony. 
 
 Of a sudden a single rifle spoke from the white 
 man's intrenchments, and, in an instant, the 
 young chief was changed from a superb living 
 bronze statue to a lump. He fell, clawing at his 
 saddle and yelling shrilly. His well-trained war 
 pony slowed down and circled back to where his 
 master lay. 
 
 All this occupied much less time than it takes 
 to tell it. 
 
 During this distraction, half a do/en Indians, 
 
 who had been unhorsed, rose from their brush 
 
 coverts and ran for their lives to gain the more 
 
 substantial refuge which the ridge afforded. 
 
 27
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 Four escaped, but two were dropped in their 
 tracks before they could reach the shelter. 
 
 Though bullets had dropped all around the 
 white men, none had been hit. 
 
 "Had enough?" said the sheriff. "Found 
 the camp stronger than you thought, eh? " 
 
 Such seemed to be the case, for, after, a long 
 parley, w r hich was held discreetly out of range, 
 the band disappeared, leaving their dead on the 
 prairie. 
 
 An attempt had been made to rescue the 
 fallen, but the risk was too great, and it was given 
 up. 
 
 The Indians had been gone some time before 
 the little garrison crept carefully from under 
 cover, for the Sioux were notoriously tricky and 
 their apparent departure might simply be a ruse 
 to put their enemies off their guard. 
 
 Finally, however, the sheriff turned to his 
 men. " Casino," said he, " you, Singing Jim, 
 and Calamity Jake follow their trail and see what 
 becomes of them. If they start to come back 
 you hump yourselves and let us know. You'd 
 better go along, Hodson, and look after your 
 stock." 
 
 The men appointed saddled up and started out 
 without delay. The good wishes of those re- 
 maining went with them. It was a perilous 
 28
 
 THE YOUNG BRAVE'S DARING. 
 
 undertaking, for there was no telling where the 
 war party might be or what they might do. 
 
 After the scouts had left, guards were set to 
 keep watch and prevent a surprise, though it was 
 thought that there was little danger of an attack 
 by daylight. 
 
 The sheriff and the rest of the men began to 
 count noses, not only of men but of stock, for it 
 might be that in the excitement some one or 
 some animal had been hit unknown to the others. 
 In fact, it would be a marvel if one bullet had 
 not reached its mark, since, at times, they had 
 dropped around like hail. 
 
 All were found intact, but several of the 
 wagons had been pretty badly riddled. 
 
 A barrel of molasses which rested in one of 
 the wagons was punctured by a 45-calibre bullet, 
 and the sticky stuff leaked down on and in a 
 trunk marked " Charles R. Green, Boston." 
 
 " Belongs to a tenderfoot who got stalled with 
 the rest of his outfit near the railroad," Casino 
 had explained, when some one remarked on the 
 strange object. 
 
 Certainly the " tenderfoot " was having rather 
 a novel introduction to the hardships of frontier 
 life. As Charley Green said afterwards, " he 
 was stuck on himself for fair." 
 
 Mr. "Worth and John now thought of the f am- 
 29
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 ily at the Sebells', and at the first lull they made 
 their way back between wagons, around and 
 through bunches of cattle, mules, and horses to 
 the house. It was hard to tell which was most 
 glad to see the other, but a stranger coming in 
 would not have realized that this was the return 
 of a father and son after several hours' exposure 
 to all the perils of Indian warfare. There were 
 no tears of joy, no outward demonstration of 
 happiness. The frontiersman had learned, per- 
 haps from the Indian, perhaps from stern nature 
 herself, to keep his feelings to himself. Even 
 John and Ben were not demonstrative. 
 
 " I suppose you did 'em up? " said the latter to 
 his more fortunate brother. " How many were 
 there in the party? " 
 
 John dropped to the floor, for the experience 
 of the night before was, at least, trying. " Sure 
 we did," he answered. " They didn't come till 
 daylight and so Avere in plain sight, while we 
 were under cover, see ? Same bunch we saw the 
 other day, I guess. Phew! I'm tired." 
 
 He had hardly got the words out of his mouth 
 before he was sound asleep, and, not long after, 
 his father was also in the land where none but 
 phantom enemies are seen. 
 
 The Indians evidently had enough, for they 
 disappeared, taking with them, however, some of 
 30
 
 THE YOUNG BRAVE'S DARING. 
 
 the N bar !NT stock. The two herders accepted 
 the situation, each in his own fashion. 
 
 " I told you so/' groaned Calamity Jake. 
 " These pesky Indians ought to be wiped off the 
 face of the earth." 
 
 Singing Jim, however, merely grinned, and 
 said as he ran his fingers through his hair : " Well, 
 I'm glad this thatch is not decorating some Sioux 
 tepee. I think it looks better on me than it 
 would on a lodge pole." 
 
 After this, things went on in much the same 
 old way in the little frontier town, for the In- 
 dians did not venture another attack. 
 
 In spite of its small size, Bismarck was a busy 
 place and was the distributing point for a large 
 unsettled territory. 
 
 Freighters came in from points on the distant 
 railroad with provisions for the cattlemen, trap- 
 pers, and miners, and the constantly changing 
 population of the town. Their wagons were in 
 long trains, one hitched to the other, the whole 
 drawn by many teams of mules and driven by one 
 man, who rode the near mule next the first wagon, 
 controlling his team by a single " jerk line," 
 which ran to the front near animal. This mule, 
 who was picked for his intelligence, knew that 
 one pull on the line meant turn left, and two 
 short jerks indicated that a right turn was 
 31
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 wanted; moreover, lie knew just how wide a 
 sweep to make to clear an obstruction. 
 
 When the trapper came to town to bring in his 
 pelts for shipment East, and to get a supply of 
 pork, beans, and coffee his standbys in the mat- 
 ter of diet and when the cowboy raced in with 
 a couple of pack ponies to get supplies for his 
 outfit, the rare opportunity was always taken ad- 
 vantage of to enjoy what pleasures the town 
 afforded. The gamblers and saloon keepers did 
 a thriving business, though a perilous one, for, on 
 the slightest provocation, the frontiersman was 
 ever ready with his shooting irons. 
 
 It was only a few weeks after the Indian attack 
 described before the parching heat of summer 
 began to give way before the dreaded wintry 
 breath of the J^orth. 
 
 John and Ben, when they went out to guard 
 their father's stock, gave up their daily swim- 
 ming in the river and took up horse racing in- 
 stead; and many a race was hotly contested. The 
 boy, however, who rode Baldy, the big bay, al- 
 ways won. 
 
 Mr. Worth, as has been noted before, was a 
 freighter; he was also a miner, opening up mines 
 of coal in the deep-cut river banks, the coal so 
 obtained being sold to the government for the 
 fort garrisons. 
 
 32
 
 THE YOUNG BRAVE'S DARING. 
 
 On these coal-prospecting trips he usually 
 went alone, carrying on his back the bare neces- 
 saries of life: a blanket, perhaps a string of 
 bacon, a bag of beans, and a little coffee, besides 
 the never-absent rifle and revolver. 
 
 Late in the fall, Mr. Worth set out on a pro- 
 specting trip. The garrisons of Fort Lincoln and 
 other outposts situated up the river were clamor- 
 ing for more fuel, and no time must be lost if 
 they were to be supplied before the heavy snows 
 set in. 
 
 John went with his father a half day's journey, 
 helping to carry his equipment. They started 
 out afoot, and the mother, holding the baby in 
 her arms, watched them. 
 
 "So long," called back Mr. Worth, as he 
 started out. 
 
 " So long," returned his wife. 
 
 At dark, John returned and, in his self-suffi- 
 cient way, began to prepare for the night. He 
 and Ben each saddled a horse, of which there 
 were several tied to a pole, and set out to round 
 up the " saddle band " (as the ponies which were 
 reserved for riding were called), and the work 
 stock of mules and pack horses. They were not 
 far off, nibbling the tufted buffalo grass, and 
 soon were turned toward the corral, the boys 
 riding on either side, ready to head off any 
 3 33
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 animal that showed a disposition to separate or 
 lead the " bunch " astray. 
 
 The stock safely disposed of, John and Ben 
 went back to the shack, but were promptly sent 
 out again for wood and water. 
 
 " Let's get a lot of wood," said Ben, " for it's 
 colder than blazes. Hope the governor will 
 find a good place to turn in to-night." 
 
 " Oh, he's all right," replied John, between 
 grunts, for the load of wood he was carrying was 
 both heavy and bulky. 
 
 An hour or so later, the windows and door 
 were barred, the embers of the fire scattered, 
 and all hands turned in for the night. The beds 
 were really bunks built into the wall, and were 
 not exactly luxurious, spring mattresses being 
 quite unknown; but the boys found them com- 
 fortable, and in a minute or two were rolled in 
 their blankets like great cocoons and fast asleep. 
 
 Mr. Worth was not expected back for several 
 weeks, for his journey was to be a long one and 
 subject to many delays on account of bad 
 weather and, worse, Indians. 
 
 It was about a week after he had left that 
 Charley Green came up to where the boys sat 
 on the doorstep braiding whips or quirts. 
 
 " Hullo, kids," he said, " Mr. Mackenzie wants 
 34
 
 THE YOUNG BRAVE'S DARING. 
 
 what are you doing? " His curiosity made 
 him forget his errand. 
 
 " Braidin' a rope to hang a couple of horse 
 thieves," said John, facetiously. " What did 
 you think we were doing, branding calves? " 
 
 Even the kids made fun of the " tenderfoot," 
 who was really a good fellow, just out from an 
 Eastern college, but densely ignorant as far as 
 Western ways went. He saw he was being 
 laughed at, and so hastened to come back to his 
 errand. 
 
 " Mr. Mackenzie wants some old clothes, 
 blankets, and other warm things for a man who 
 turned up just now, half-dressed. He's almost 
 frozen. "White man, too," he added. 
 
 In a few minutes John and Tenderfoot Green 
 reached the sheriff's shack, bearing clothes and 
 blankets. The crowd that stood before the door 
 parted and allowed them to pass. 
 
 In the far corner of the room, leaning over the 
 fire, sat a man who turned his head as John and 
 Green came in. 
 
 " Why, it's my father! " cried John. 
 
 35
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 A NAKKOW ESCAPE. 
 
 The boy rushed forward and asked what had 
 happened. 
 
 The small, rough living-room in the sheriff's 
 shack was soon crowded with men who pressed 
 forward eager to hear the story. 
 
 When Mr. Worth was rested somewhat and 
 thoroughly warmed through, he began : 
 
 " After leaving home, I travelled for two days 
 and nothing happened. There were plenty of 
 Indian signs about, marks of moccasined feet and 
 prints of unshod horses' hoofs." 
 
 " Where were you bound? " asked some one. 
 
 " Up the river near Fort Stevenson. Got a 
 l coal mine up there, you know," the narrator an- 
 swered. " Well, I kept a pretty sharp lookout 
 for hostiles and all the Indians are hostile 
 around Fort Stevenson but up to the time I'm 
 going to tell you about I didn't see any. I fol- 
 lowed the old trails made by the buffalo and deer 
 across the prairie, and did my best to cover up 
 36
 
 A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 my own tracks wore moccasins till the cacti 
 cut 'em too much, then shifted to boots. Of 
 course boots made a much clearer print and 
 would give me away sure if they were seen." ,v; 
 
 "Why?" whispered Tenderfoot Green to 
 Casino. 
 
 " Because, you chump," retorted Casino, " the 
 Indians never wear boots, so they know right 
 away when they see marks of heel and sole that 
 a white man has been that way. See ? " 
 
 Worth continued, without noticing this whis- 
 pered colloquy : " I was getting nearer and 
 nearer the river every minute, and I knew that 
 when I got there my chances of getting through 
 all right would be better, for the brush and banks 
 would afford the cover that the prairie lacked." 
 
 His hearers nodded their heads understand- 
 ingly, and even Tenderfoot Green seemed to 
 take in the situation. 
 
 " The wind was getting pretty keen, and I was 
 afraid it would snow; if it did, I knew my trail 
 would be as plain as a column of smoke in a clear 
 sky, so I hustled for the river at a good pace. In 
 spite of my hurry, though, I managed to keep a 
 sharp lookout for Indians. As I topped every rise 
 I took a good survey of everything in view, and it 
 was well I did, for about dusk I reached the crest 
 of a low hill, and on glancing over saw an Indian 
 37
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 village. It lay directly in my path, not far from 
 the river. It was still too light to attempt to go 
 round it, so I lay down behind some sage brush 
 and watched what was going on. The village, 
 which contained about fifty tepees, was placed 
 within easy distance of the river and was well 
 supplied with cottonwood." 
 
 "Used the cottonwood for fuel, I suppose?" 
 broke in Green. 
 
 " Yes, and the green bark to feed the horses 
 on in heavy snowy weather," volunteered Mac- 
 kenzie. 
 
 " Excuse me, Mr. Worth," apologized Tender- 
 foot, " I didn't mean to interrupt." 
 
 " That's all right," said Worth. " A lot of 
 squaws were busy doing men's work, as is the way 
 of the poor things, scraping hides that were 
 staked on the ground, mending buffalo-skin 
 tepees, pounding berries, carrying wood and 
 water. Some were busy with easier jobs, such 
 as making deerskin clothes and ornamenting 
 moccasins with beads. I could see only a few 
 bucks; the others were probably off on a hunt.
 
 A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 There was danger in that, for if they found my 
 trail on their way back to camp they would of 
 course follow it, and then well, I should be 
 lucky to come out of it alive." 
 
 The listening men began to show signs of im- 
 patience. All this was an old story to them; 
 they wanted to hear the end of the tale, and how 
 he came to be in such a plight. 
 
 " "Well, to make a long story short," said 
 Worth, beginning to realize that he was telling 
 much that was obvious to most of his hearers, 
 " while I lay there, planning and idly watching 
 the Indian camp, the hunting party was actually 
 returning. Suddenly I felt the weight of a man 
 on my back. I struggled and fought, and finally 
 threw him off. Jumping to my feet, I faced two 
 savages who had come in advance of the main 
 party and had stolen on me unawares. Both 
 now rushed at me, but I dodged one and tripped 
 the other. Before I could finish the man I had 
 thrown, the first was at me again. Loaded as I 
 was by my pack, I was soon fagged. My gun 
 had been taken by the redskin when he fell on 
 me. Why he didn't use it on me I cannot under- 
 stand perhaps I didn't give him time. Now 
 both of them jumped for me, and try as I might 
 I could not dodge or disable them. I had al- 
 ready begun to fear that the game was up, when
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 I saw a whole bunch of Indians, the rest of the 
 hunting party, coming along the trail. 
 
 " There wasn't any use fighting a mob like 
 that, so I stopped struggling, let my captors hold 
 me, and waited for whatever might come. 
 
 " The redskins crowded around me, and I 
 thought that my time had come. 
 
 " ' Stev'son, you come in,' says one brave. 
 ' Hoss, pony, you got 'em ? ' calls out another big 
 scowling savage. I shook my head. 
 
 " Then I caught sight of a face I knew 
 old Chief Looking Glass. (I warmed him up with 
 coffee once when he was near frozen to death. 
 Indians will do most anything for a cup of 
 coffee.) He pushed forward through the crowd 
 and shook hands with me. I could see he was 
 trying to get his men to separate and leave us, 
 but it wasn't any sort of use; they pressed 
 around, and it was very evident that they wanted 
 my pack. Looking Glass finally started alone 
 towards the camp, calling to his braves to come 
 along, but this plan didn't work at all; for the 
 minute he got out of sight over the brow of the 
 hill the thieving gang began to strip me. There 
 was no use resisting; they were too many for me. 
 Before I knew where I was I was stark naked, 
 except for a few rags. Even my boots were 
 yanked off. We were almost in the village by 
 40
 
 A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 this time, for I had been pulled and pushed over 
 the crest and down the slope of the hill. My 
 tormentors then left me and began to divide my 
 outfit, so I crawled off, shivering and sore, 
 anxious to get out of sight as soon as possible." 
 
 " Wasn't it cold? " said Tenderfoot Green. 
 
 " Rather," said Mr. Worth, a grim smile show- 
 ing on his weather-beaten face. " A man does 
 not go tramping across the bare prairie in 
 weather like this dressed in a few rags, bare- 
 footed, and feel as if he was in a hot spring. It 
 was fully as cold as it is now, and this is a pretty 
 sharp day." He shivered at the mere remem- 
 brance, while his listeners gave a general laugh 
 at the simplicity of the question. 
 
 " Where did you get your blanket and mocca- 
 sins? " asked Green, anxious to divert the crowd's 
 attention. 
 
 He pointed at the articles that Worth seemed 
 to be guarding with unnecessary care. 
 
 " These here blanket and moccasins saved my 
 life," continued the latter. " As I was pushing 
 along I heard a woman's voice calling. I turned 
 and saw a squaw running after me with a blanket 
 and a pair of moccasins in her hands. ' Looking 
 Glass blanket and moccasins,' she said, as she 
 handed them to me. Then she turned timidly 
 and ran back to the camp. 
 41
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 " It was almost dark now, and growing colder 
 every minute. I put on the moccasins, wrapped 
 the blanket around me, though it smelled 
 strong of Indian, and set out at a dog-trot in the 
 direction of a wagon trail. If I could reach that 
 I might be lucky enough to strike a white man's 
 camp or a freighter's outfit, and then I should 
 be all right. 
 
 " I travelled all that night, keeping in the right 
 direction by a sort of instinct that my knowledge 
 of the lay of the land gave me. It was a pretty 
 tough journey though, I can tell you. I had to 
 fight hard to keep off the sleepy feeling that 
 comes before freezing, and for hour after hour I 
 dragged myself along numb and aching with the 
 cold, but hoping against all reason and proba- 
 bility that I might run across some of the boys 
 before it was too late. Toward daybreak I must 
 have got kinder lonely, for I lost track of things, 
 and only came to myself in the freighters' camp 
 that I had run into half asleep." 
 
 He paused here, and John saw that his eyes 
 were half closed and his head nodding. The 
 ordeal had told on even his sturdy health. 
 
 In a thick, sleepy voice he added : " Ask Jim 
 "White ; he knows the rest he brought me in." 
 
 Jim "White could add little to the story. "Worth 
 came into his camp, he explained, more dead 
 42
 
 A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 than alive and " clean out of his head." He and 
 his partner had cared for him and brought him 
 to town as fast as the teams could go. 
 
 John's father was taken over to his own shack, 
 where his wife greeted him like one come back 
 from the dead. Under her good nursing he re- 
 covered from his terrible experience in a marvel- 
 lously short time and became again his own 
 sturdy self. The frontiersman must of necessity 
 be possessed of an iron constitution, for he must 
 be able to endure hardships of all kinds intense 
 heat and piercing cold, hunger and thirst, fatigue 
 and pain, that would either kill an ordinary man 
 outright or cripple him for life. 
 
 It was with inward dread that the little family 
 watched its head start off again, after a few 
 weeks' stay in town. Outwardly, however, 
 cheerfulness, almost indifference, was mani- 
 fested. This time he went with a party which 
 was going in the same direction ; the danger was, 
 consequently, not so great. Then, too, the cold 
 weather kept the Indians pretty close to their 
 own camps, and as the locations of these were 
 generally known, they could be easily avoided. 
 
 The boys' hearts were gladdened by the news 
 that, perhaps, the home shack would be aban- 
 doned in the spring, when their father returned. 
 43
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 If so, the whole family would " hit the trail " to 
 the north and \vest. 
 
 Up to this time the Worth boys had been town 
 dwellers, though in these days Bismarck could 
 hardly be dignified even by the name of village. 
 John and Ben, in common with the few other 
 boys, had enjoyed the comparatively tame pleas- 
 ures afforded by the town and the surrounding 
 prairie. All large game had been driven west, 
 and only prairie dogs, gophers, coyotes, and oc- 
 casionally wolves remained; these and the birds 
 the boys used to shoot at day after day with their 
 ever-ready revolvers. The sport in the river was 
 not all that could be wished for either, for the 
 water was muddy and the bottom was full of 
 quicksands. And if summer lacked diversions, 
 winter was a still more uninteresting season, in 
 that the pleasures were fewer and the discomforts 
 greater. 
 
 It was therefore with great glee that John and 
 Ben looked forward to this pilgrimage. A hilly 
 country was to be visited, where game of all sorts 
 abounded, where clear streams were plenty, and 
 where new sports of all kinds were in prospect. 
 Marvellous tales of trapping beaver, and hunting 
 antelope, bear, and even buffalo, were brought in 
 by hunters, so the boys were wild to enjoy these 
 new pleasures. 
 
 44
 
 A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 The Government was trying to confine the In- 
 dians to the reservations that had been set apart 
 for them, but the redskins had been accustomed 
 to roam over the country at will, to follow the 
 game wherever it went, to make war upon each 
 other whenever they felt like it or needed horses; 
 so they resented any attempt to interfere with 
 their entire freedom, and turned fiercely on their 
 white foes wherever they found them, singly or 
 in camps and settlements. The Government, in 
 order to better protect its citizens, erected at in- 
 tervals outposts garrisoned by troops. 
 
 There being no railroads across the continent 
 at this time, goods of all kinds had to be carried 
 in wagons from the nearest railroad station to the 
 fort or point of distribution. The supply of fuel, 
 too, was a matter of great importance. It was in 
 the main a treeless country and wood was scarce. 
 The early prospectors and pioneers had noticed 
 the outcroppings of coal from the deep-cut river 
 banks, but little advantage was taken of this 
 store of fuel till the forts were established and 
 the little steamboats began to ply up and down 
 the Missouri loaded deep with skins and buffalo 
 hides. 
 
 Mr. Worth was one of the first to see the value 
 of these coal veins, and he was a leader in devel- 
 oping the mineral resources of the section. He 
 45
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 opened and worked mines as near the different 
 outposts as possible and at convenient points for 
 the supply of coal to the river boats. 
 
 The Eastern railroads were stretching their 
 long steel arms westward, and they also needed 
 to be supplied with food for their furnaces. 
 
 Mr. Worth had contracted with these coal con- 
 sumers to open mines which, when in good run- 
 ning order, were to be turned over to them to 
 work. In order to do this it was necessary to 
 travel from place to place, starting the work at 
 intervals along the proposed line so as to be ready 
 when the " steel trail " actually reached them. 
 It was this contract that made it necessary for 
 them to give up the home shack at Bismarck and 
 to journey into hostile country. Mr. Worth 
 could not return to the settlement to his family; 
 the family must therefore come to him in the 
 wilds. 
 
 Much of the long winter was spent by the boys 
 in talking over the good times they were going 
 to have when they reached the new country. At 
 times a trapper would come in to get a stock of 
 supplies, and John and Ben listened eagerly to 
 every word he said about his experiences. These 
 tales were old stories to most of the men of the 
 little town, who paid no attention to such com- 
 monplace matters, but Charley Green, like the 
 46
 
 A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 boys, was seeking information, and he drank in 
 every word as eagerly as they. 
 
 Much of Green's ignorance had disappeared, 
 though " Tenderfoot " was still his nickname, 
 and by that he would be called as long as he lived 
 there. He had changed outwardly as well. 
 The Eastern pallor had given place to a good, 
 healthy, bronzed tint, his eye was clear and his 
 hand steady; he had lost weight but had gained 
 in endurance. His gay, expensive outfit of 
 clothes had been succeeded by the more sober and 
 serviceable apparel of the plains : wide, heavy felt 
 hat, flannel shirt, rough trousers with protecting 
 leather overalls or chaps, and high boots. He 
 had learned enough about Western ways to avoid 
 making many blunders, and took a joke at his 
 expense good naturedly when he did occasionally 
 betray himself. 
 
 It was not considered polite in Bismarck to in- 
 quire anything about a man's past that was his 
 own business. It was not necessary for a man to 
 give his pedigree and family name in order to be 
 received into the society of his fellows. It was 
 not his past that concerned them, but his present. 
 " Lariat Bill " was quite as good for all practical 
 purposes as his real name, perhaps better, for it 
 was descriptive and identified him at once. In 
 accordance with this unwritten law, no one asked 
 47
 
 CATTLE RANGE TO COLLEGE. 
 
 what Charley Green's idea was in leaving the 
 civilization and culture of Boston for the wild, 
 free, albeit rough, life of the plains; but rumor 
 had it that he came there with the intention of 
 going into ranching. If so, he was wise beyond 
 his generation, for unlike most of his fellows he 
 looked before he leaped. 
 
 Tenderfoot and the two boys had struck up 
 quite a friendship. It was quite natural, there- 
 fore, knowing as he did the Worths' plans, for 
 him to say one day, towards the end of the win- 
 ter: " Do you suppose, John, that your dad would 
 take me along on his mining expedition? " 
 
 " I dunno," said John, " you'll have to ask the 
 governor when he conies back. I guess he 
 would." 
 
 " You see," continued Tenderfoot, " I'm about 
 as tired of this place as you are, and I want to see 
 a little of the country. I guess I could earn my 
 salt as a mule-wrangler anyway." 
 
 So it was decided that the young Easterner 
 was to go with the Worths if the head of the 
 house consented. 
 
 The dreary winter was beginning to give way 
 to the soft south winds. The snow was fast dis- 
 appearing and buffalo grass was showing brightly 
 green here and there. The boys had an unusu- 
 ally bad attack of spring fever, for the long- 
 48
 
 A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 looked-for time of the pilgrimage was drawing 
 near. 
 
 Their father might be expected any day, and 
 then their delight and anticipation could not 
 be put into words. 
 
 Mr. Worth at length came in, loaded down 
 with his pack, his arms, and his heavy winter 
 furs. 
 
 Keen and bitter disappointment was in store 
 for the impatient boys. They were told that it 
 would not be safe to move away from the town, 
 for the whole country was full of hostile, well- 
 armed, well-fed Sioux. 
 
 The Black Hills of southwestern Dakota had 
 been found to contain gold in paying quantities. 
 This region was considered almost sacred by the 
 Indians and jealously guarded. It was now ag- 
 gressively penetrated by the bold miners, and 
 this naturally created much bad feeling between 
 them and the original owners. In order to allay 
 this feeling the Government made a treaty with 
 the Indians by which it was agreed that the en- 
 croaching miners should be driven out. The 
 disregarding of this treaty or its ineffective en- 
 forcement roused the Sioux to open warfare. 
 
 The tribes were collecting under the leader- 
 ship of Sitting Bull and Rain-in-the-Face. Sev- 
 eral small skirmishes had been fought and num- 
 4 49
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 bers of men on both sides had been killed. Small 
 outfits, too, had been wiped out completely by the 
 savage red foe. 
 
 It would have been suicidal, therefore, for the 
 Worth family to venture within the enemy's 
 country, as had been previously planned. 
 
 Indeed, while there was probably little danger 
 of an attack at this time on Bismarck, the centre 
 of hostilities being many hundred miles to the 
 westward, great precautions were taken even 
 there every night to guard against surprise, and 
 the people, especially the children, never went 
 far afield. 
 
 The spring passed and another summer's 
 scorching heat began. Occasionally accounts 
 came in of battles fought and victories won, 
 sometimes by one side, sometimes by the other. 
 It was a time of uncertainty; business enterprise 
 was at a standstill, and, since there was little to do 
 in the frontier town, diversion of any kind was 
 hailed with delight. So the Fourth of July cele- 
 bration that was to be held at Black Jack's dance 
 hall was looked forward to with great expecta- 
 tions by old and young. 
 
 Independence Day at length arrived, and was 
 
 greeted at the first showing of light in the east 
 
 by a volley of revolver shots. The celebration 
 
 was kept up with enthusiasm all day. Tender- 
 
 50
 
 OUSTER'S COMMAND. (Page 53.)
 
 A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 foot made a patriotic speech that took the crowd 
 by storm he was no tenderfoot in that line, for 
 his college debating society experience served 
 him in good stead. 
 
 At sundown the guests began to arrive at Black 
 Jack's, and before an hour had passed the ball 
 was in full swing. It could hardly be called a 
 fashionable assemblage: the men, of whom there 
 were three or four to every woman, were dressed 
 much as usual, spurs and all, except that in com- 
 pliance with the request placarded prominently, 
 their " guns " were laid aside. 
 
 A single fiddler served for an orchestra, and 
 also acted as master of ceremonies, calling out the 
 figures of the dances. 
 
 The violin was squeaking merrily and the feet 
 of the dancers thumped the rough boards vigor- 
 ously, while the lamp lights silhouetted the un- 
 couth figures as they passed between them and 
 the open window. 
 
 John and Ben, who were watching from the 
 outer darkness, were suddenly startled by hear- 
 ing the long, deep whistle of the little steamboat. 
 
 "What's that?" exclaimed Ben. "Sounds like 
 the Will o' the Wisp, but she hasn't been along 
 the river for a long time." 
 
 " Let's go and see," said John. " Must be 
 something doing to bring her down at this time." 
 51
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 The two boys mounted their horses, which 
 stood already saddled, and galloped down to the 
 landing. In a few minutes the boat steamed up 
 out of the darkness, slowed down and made fast 
 to a cottonwood stump. 
 
 HaMly had it come to a stop when a man made 
 a running leap to the platform and dashed toward 
 the boys, who were the only persons at the place. 
 
 " "Where's all the people? " he cried excitedly. 
 " Let me take that horse a minute, sonny." 
 
 " Up at Black Jack's," said John, sliding off 
 Baldy's back without delay, for it was evident 
 that the newcomer brought important news. 
 
 The stranger mounted and set off at a hard 
 gallop for Main Street. Reaching the brightly 
 lighted place, he jumped off and stumbled 
 through the doorway into the centre of the room. 
 
 The fiddler stopped in the middle of a bar, the 
 dancers, who were in the full swing of " all hands 
 around," stood still in wonder, and every eye was 
 fixed upon the intruder. He looked like the 
 bearer of bad news. 
 
 His clothes showed that he had travelled far 
 and fast, and his manner evidenced anything but 
 peace of mind. For an instant all was still. 
 Then Black Jack broke the silence : " Speak out, 
 man! What's up? " 
 
 " I've been travelling two days and nights to 
 52
 
 A NARROW ESCAPE. 
 
 bring the news," he panted. " Ouster " he 
 
 paused for breath. 
 
 "Well, hurry up, will you! " exclaimed Mac- 
 kenzie, shaking his arm. 
 
 " Ouster and his party have been wiped out by 
 the Indians on the Little Big Horn ! " 
 
 l&m 
 
 53
 
 CHAPTEK IV. 
 
 "HITTING THE TKAIL." 
 
 The Ouster massacre threw the whole country 
 into a spasm of fear. 
 
 The killing of three hundred trained fighters 
 and a general, all renowned for their daring and 
 knowledge of Indian warfare, must give the 
 enemy a confidence that would be hard to over- 
 come. 
 
 Every one wondered where the next blow 
 would be struck and who would be the next vic- 
 tim. All enterprises were checked, all peaceful 
 journeys postponed. Not till the autumn of the 
 following year was it deemed safe for the Worth 
 family to carry out their plan of " pulling up 
 stakes " and leaving Bismarck. 
 
 During the year which had elapsed John and 
 Ben had grown in mind and body. They were 
 sturdy, strong boys, and were a great help to 
 54
 
 HITTING THE TRAIL." 
 
 their father. Perfectly able to take care of the 
 stock, they could ride like centaurs and shoot 
 with their " guns " (as the Westerner calls his re- 
 volver) with astonishing accuracy. They used 
 to practice at tomato cans fifty yards away and 
 soon became so expert that for nearly every shot 
 a neat round hole appeared in the tin. If you 
 think this easy, try it. One can will probably 
 last you a long while. 
 
 Long before, Charley Green had made a 
 formal request to be included in the migrating 
 party and had been accepted. He was really 
 quite a valuable man now, for he had been tried 
 in a number of ticklish places and had shown a 
 solid strength and coolness in the face of danger. 
 
 One bright autumn day the pilgrimage began. 
 
 Several men were to accompany the family to 
 a mine that had already been located fifty miles 
 away. Here the winter was to be spent, and 
 then, if all went well, another mine might be 
 opened further westward. 
 
 The final preparations for moving were soon 
 complete. The household goods were packed 
 into the great lumbering prairie wagons, canvas- 
 topped and wide of beam; the little log-built^ 
 shack was left intact, its rough, heavy door 
 swinging open. 
 
 The frontiersman's household outfit was very 
 55
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 simple. The bedding consisted of blankets; cook- 
 ing utensils of iron and tin, dining-table furniture 
 of the same materials, a few chairs, a table or two, 
 and the baby's crib completed the list. The Worth 
 family had the largest library in town. It con- 
 tained their great, brass-bound Bible, " Pilgrim's 
 Progress," the Catechism (and how the boys 
 dreaded it!), "Robinson Crusoe," "Scott's 
 Poems," and the " Arabian Nights." These pre- 
 cious books were of course taken along, for 
 though the boys' father read little and lacked 
 even the rudiments of education, he had the pride 
 of ownership. 
 
 It can be seen at once that this simple collec- 
 tion of necessaries would not take long to pack 
 and load. Charley Green remarked that " the 
 whole outfit wouldn't be considered security 
 enough for a week's board in Boston." 
 
 " That's true," answered Mr. Worth, as he 
 lifted the sewing machine (the only one for miles 
 and miles around) tenderly into the wagon. "But 
 our household stuff is considered very fine, and 
 people come from long distances to use this sew- 
 ing machine." 
 
 " The first of May can't have any terrors for 
 you," persisted the ex-collegian. 
 
 Mr. Worth frowned a little, for although 
 Charley's fun was good-natured, he had a keen 
 56
 
 "HITTING THE TRAIL." 
 
 dislike to being ridiculed, and had always been 
 accustomed to considering his equipment as 
 something rather grand as indeed it was, com- 
 pared with his less fortunate neighbors. 
 
 After a final glance around to see that nothing 
 had been left, the head of the family put his wife 
 and baby into the first wagon, but before climb- 
 ing in himself he called out to John and Ben to go 
 back to the corral, saddle two of the horses, and 
 drive the remaining ones after the wagon train. 
 
 The two boys were soon busy catching and 
 saddling the horses. As John was " cinching " 
 up Baldy, he heard the snap of his father's long 
 black-snake whip and the creak of the heavy 
 wheels. Then for the first time he realized that 
 the only home he had ever known was to be left 
 permanently. The old place suddenly became 
 very dear to him, and the thought of leaving it 
 was hard to bear; in fact, he had to bury his face 
 in Baldy's rough, unkempt side to hide the tears 
 that would come despite his efforts. 
 
 Ben, on the contrary, was very cheerful and 
 w T histled between the sentences of talk he flung 
 at his brother. The two years' difference in 
 their ages showed very plainly in this matter. 
 
 " Here, get a move on you, John," he shouted, 
 " my horse's all ready." 
 
 The older boy bestirred himself, and in the 
 57
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 rush and hurry that followed he soon forgot his 
 momentary regret. 
 
 When they caught up with the wagons they 
 found the procession headed toward the centre of 
 the settlement and almost in its outskirts. 
 
 The town had grown considerably both in 
 population and area since we first saw it, and or- 
 dinarily the departure of a freighter's outfit 
 would excite but little remark. The exodus of 
 the Worths, however one of the few families, 
 and one of the very first settlers was quite an 
 event. Many of their friends were on hand to 
 wish them good speed. The boys felt like "lords 
 of creation " indeed. Were they not bound on 
 a journey of unknown duration, liable to have 
 all sorts of delightful adventures? They held 
 their heads up and pitied their boy friends who 
 were to be left behind and it must be confessed 
 that the stay-at-homes pitied themselves. 
 
 The wagon train made its way slowly down 
 to the river, where the sheriff bade them good- 
 
 by. 
 
 " I'm sorry to have you go," he said, nodding 
 to Mr. and Mrs. Worth. "And those kids of 
 yours," he added, " I wish you could leave them 
 behind; it will be pretty tough on them, and be- 
 sides, I'm fond of the little beggars. However," 
 he went on, as the boys' father shook his head, 
 58
 
 "HITTING THE TRAIL." 
 
 * 
 
 " I suppose you know what you're doing. Well, 
 good luck. So long." 
 
 " So long," replied the travellers in chorus. 
 
 The whole outfit was ferried over the river, 
 passed through the little village of Mandan clus- 
 tered around the fort, and then struck out across 
 the open prairie. It made quite a procession, 
 the light wagon in front, drawn by two horses 
 and driven by Worth, then a long string of mule 
 teams hitched to the first of a train of prairie 
 schooners, whose white canvas-hooped tops shone 
 in the sun. The cooking utensils in the vehicles 
 and hung under them banged and clattered, 
 the wheels creaked, the teamsters' long whips, 
 which took two hands to wield, cracked and 
 snapped. 
 
 At the head of the party rode Charley Green, 
 with his long-eared charges, busy at his self- 
 imposed task of " mule-wrangling." He was 
 new to the business, and it seemed as if the beasts 
 he was herding were aware of this. For a while 
 all would go smoothly, the animals closely 
 bunched, heads down, ears drooped forward, the 
 picture of innocence and dejection; then sud- 
 denly a lanky brute would start out from one side 
 as if propelled from a gun, and no sooner had 
 Charley dug the spurs into his pony in his ef- 
 forts to head it off than another mule would 
 59
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 
 
 start off on the other side. Then the whole 
 bunch would scatter, radiating from a common 
 centre like the spokes of a wheel. John, Ben, 
 and one of the men (called Tongue-Tied Ted, be- 
 cause of his few words) took a hand in the game 
 at last, and together they rounded up the stock 
 into a compact bunch again. 
 
 All this was very amusing for the old hands, 
 but Charley did not seem to enjoy it. 
 
 " Mule-wrangling is no snap," he grumbled. 
 " Why, it's easier to stop a whole rush line than 
 to take care of that gang of long-eared, rail- 
 backed, dirt-colored, knock-kneed horse imi- 
 tators." 
 
 He had to tackle the job alone, however, for 
 only by experience could he learn, and experi- 
 ence is a hard and thorough teacher. 
 
 The boys trotted alongside, now riding far 
 ahead, now making their ponies show off near the 
 wagons. Excursions were made from time to 
 time to shoot at prairie dogs, rabbits, and coyotes. 
 But even this grew monotonous after a while, 
 and they began to cast about in their minds for 
 amusement. " Let's go to the river where it 
 makes a bend over there and take a swim," said 
 Ben, at last. 
 
 It was no sooner said than done. They were 
 left to look out for themselves much of the time, 
 60
 
 "HITTING THE TRAIL." 
 
 so they went off without saying a word to any 
 one. 
 
 Soon the caravan was lost to view, and after a 
 few minutes' more riding even the shouts of the 
 men and the barking of the dogs could not be 
 heard. 
 
 The boys had that delightful feeling of entire 
 freedom and half fear which comes to the in- 
 experienced thrown upon their own resources. 
 The prairie was perfectly still and the heat was 
 scorching, for the sun was still high. It was a 
 little awesome, and for a minute John and Ben 
 wished they were back with their friends. The 
 thought of a cool dip was very enticing, however, 
 and they would both have been ashamed to turn 
 back now, so they cantered along, keeping up 
 each other's courage by shouting and laughing. 
 Reaching the river, they scrambled down the 
 steep slope, leaving their horses to graze on the 
 level, and in a jiffy were enjoying a swim in the 
 " Big Muddy." The bottom was free from 
 quicksands, so the brothers enjoyed themselves 
 to their hearts' content. 
 
 They swam, ducked, and dug in the mud, as 
 full of glee as could be. For an hour or more 
 they revelled in their sport; then John dropped 
 the handful of dirt he was about to throw and 
 looked around, half scared. " Hallo," he said, 
 61
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 " it's getting dark. We'd better get a move on." 
 They slid into their clothes as only boys can, 
 and in a few seconds had regained the top of the 
 bank. 
 
 The sun, a fiery red ball, was low down in the 
 western sky and almost ready to drop out of 
 sight altogether. 
 
 " Why ! " exclaimed Ben. " Where are the 
 horses? " 
 
 They looked hurriedly around and then 
 scanned the rolling prairie and sage bushes in 
 every direction. 
 
 But the horses were not to be seen. Nor was 
 the wagon train in sight. Not a living thing was 
 visible on the horizon; not a sound could be heard 
 anywhere. On every side there were only mo- 
 notonous clumps of sage, and the sun was getting 
 lower and lower every moment. 
 
 They rushed to a knoll and searched again. 
 All around stretched the prairie bare, still, 
 hopeless. Then they looked at each other for 
 the first time. Ben began to whimper. 
 
 " Come, brace up," said John, taking the elder 
 brother's part. "I know the trail; we'll catch 
 up to them in no time." 
 
 His tone was cheerful, but he appeared more 
 at ease than he really was. It was not a pleasant 
 situation for even a full-grown man, one well 
 62
 
 "HITTING THE TRAIL." 
 
 versed in the signs of the plains, its landmarks, 
 and deceptions. 
 
 The boys were in an unfamiliar section of the 
 country, without food or means of transportation, 
 at nightfall. Their lessons of self-reliance stood 
 them in good stead now, and they started off 
 bravely, striking away from the river in the di- 
 rection of the wagon trail. After walking a half 
 hour they came across the distinct deep rut of 
 wagons. 
 
 This was a great encouragement; it was like a 
 friendly grasp of the hand, for they felt that they 
 were now in touch with men and living things, 
 though neither was within sight or sound. 
 
 Only the palest kind of twilight now re- 
 mained, but the trail could be seen quite dis- 
 tinctly and both boys took heart. 
 
 " I'd give my gun for a piece of jerked buffalo 
 meat," said Ben. 
 
 " "Well, I wouldn't mind munching a bean my- 
 self," replied his brother. " But say, won't that 
 feed taste good when we get to the camp? Just 
 think of that big fire with the men lying around 
 it, and the wagons drawn in a circle outside all." 
 
 " Oh, stop," broke in Ben, peevishly. " I'm 
 hungry enough and tired enough already, and 
 your talk makes me ten times worse." 
 
 Hour after hour they tramped along, their
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 courage ebbing with every step. Expecting 
 when they reached the crest of each little rise to 
 see the bustling camp at the foot of the slope, 
 each time they again took up the weary march 
 with a heavier load of disappointment and un- 
 easiness. 
 
 Thirst, as well as hunger, now began to attack 
 them. It was dry weather, and the dust rose 
 into their faces as they walked, tickling throat 
 and nose, and causing the greatest discomfort. 
 From time to time they lingered to rest, but 
 when they stopped the darkness frightened them, 
 and the awful stillness, broken only by the wail- 
 ing howl of a coyote and the low moan of the 
 rising wind, drove them on relentlessly. 
 
 At last Ben declared that he couldn't go any 
 further, but as soon as they stopped his courage 
 failed him and he burst into tears. John com- 
 forted him as well as he could, but he was himself 
 at his wits' ends. 
 
 " Come along, old man," he urged after a 
 while, " let's have one more try at it." 
 
 Again they started off wearily and slowly, 
 John with an arm about his younger brother. 
 They had walked only a few minutes when Ben 
 felt his brother's arm clasp him tighter and heard 
 him give a hoarse shout. 
 
 He strained his eyes ahead. There in the 
 64
 
 "HITTING THE TRAIL." 
 
 darkness was an indistinct moving mass. They 
 redoubled their efforts, and presently discovered 
 that it was a wagon drawn by a single team that 
 seemed hardly able to stand and moved forward 
 at a snail's pace. 
 
 " Did you see anything of a freight outfit 
 along the trail to-night? " said John huskily to 
 the driver. 
 
 The man half raised himself from his lounging 
 position. "Freight outfit?" said he, sleepily. 
 " No." 
 
 Then he woke up a little more as Ben broke 
 into tears again. Perceiving their woebegone 
 appearance, he sat erect, and for the first time 
 took in the situation. " Why, what are you kids 
 doin' here this time of night? Where's your 
 horses? Where's your people? " 
 
 John told the story in a few words, while Ben, 
 quite overcome, leaned his head against his 
 brother's arm and went fast asleep standing up. 
 
 " And haven't you had anything to eat since 
 noon? " queried the driver in wonder. 
 
 " No, nor nothing to drink," answered John, 
 his voice shaking a little in spite of himself at 
 the remembrance. 
 
 " Well, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't help 
 you much. I haven't got a bit of grub myself. 
 Thought I would only be out a little while, and 
 5 65
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 expected to reach the rest of my outfit by dinner 
 time, so I didn't bring any feed myself. One of 
 my nags gave out, so I couldn't catch the teams. 
 I guess I can give you a little lift, anyhow. But 
 see here! " he ejaculated, " I guess you're on the 
 wrong trail, ain't you? Your folks must have 
 took the other branch way back yonder; they 
 wouldn't be likely to come over this side." 
 
 Brave John collapsed at this. He and Ben 
 had been travelling all this weary time in the 
 wrong direction! 
 
 " Never you mind, sonny," said the man, 
 kindly. " We'll find some way out of it," he 
 went on after a minute's silence ; " those trails 
 join again after a piece. Perhaps you may meet 
 your outfit there. This branch follows a bend 
 in the river, while the other cuts across country 
 and meets it. See? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said John, dejectedly. 
 
 " Come, help me get this team of mine started; 
 you'll be sure to find your outfit camped near the 
 fork; there's good water there and they'll wait 
 for you." 
 
 Encouraged once more by his words, John 
 lifted Ben bodily and laid him in the wagon. 
 Then, after a good deal of urging with voice and 
 whip, he got the worn-out team in motion. 
 
 For half an hour they moved along without a 
 66
 
 HITTING THE TRAIL." 
 
 word being spoken; their new friend relapsed 
 into his huddled-up position, Ben lay asleep in the 
 bottom of the wagon, and John communed with 
 himself. He wondered what his mother thought 
 of their absence, and he felt the responsibility of 
 an elder brother. He knew that the horses would 
 turn up riderless, and that his father would send 
 back over the trail that had been covered by the 
 train, but would not find them. The thought of 
 their anxiety made him doubly impatient at the 
 slow progress made. He longed for Baldy to 
 gallop on and set their minds at rest. Still, 
 they moved along at a pace little faster than a 
 walk. Each step of the weary beasts seemed as 
 if it must be the last. 
 
 At length John, who was the only person 
 awake, noticed that the oif horse began to sway 
 as he stumbled along. He roused the man at 
 his side and told him he thought the animal was 
 about done for. But the words of warning were 
 hardly out of his mouth when the poor beast 
 dropped like a lump, made a few fruitless at- 
 tempts to regain his feet, and then lay quiet. 
 
 Here was a pretty mess for all hands ! 
 
 The man, with one fagged horse and one al- 
 most as bad, ten miles from camp, with no food 
 or water, on a trail over which hardly any one 
 passed. 
 
 67
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 The boys, footsore from the long tramp, with 
 a gnawing hunger and parching thirst and noth- 
 ing to satisfy either, their destination they knew 
 not how far off, and no means of reaching it other 
 than afoot. 
 
 There was but one thing to do: set out once 
 more and trust to Providence that the camp 
 would be found at the junction of the two trails 
 and that their strength would hold out long- 
 enough to accomplish the journey. 
 
 John promised to send some one back with 
 horses and food, if the stranger did not turn up 
 within a reasonable time, and the youngsters 
 then resumed their weary march, John almost 
 carrying his brother. 
 
 The moon had come out and showed the boys 
 the deeply marked road. They had but to fol- 
 low the track, so it became simply a question of 
 endurance and pluck. The simple, hardy life 
 they had always led, and the constant exposure 
 to heat and cold had toughened their little bod- 
 ies and had given them a reserve fund of strength 
 which now responded to the call upon their ut- 
 most powers. Strained as every faculty was, 
 they plodded on doggedly, hour after hour. Just 
 after midnight they topped a little rise, and in- 
 voluntarily cried out in unison. There ahead of 
 them was a blaze that gave them new life. They 
 
 68
 
 "HITTING THE TRAIL." 
 
 had reached the junction of the two trails, and the 
 camp. The wagons were drawn in a circle just as 
 they had pictured to themselves, the camp fire 
 was burning brightly in a shallow pit (to prevent 
 its spread to the surrounding prairie, and some 
 of the men, wrapped in their blankets, were lying 
 like long, bumpy bundles on the ground, while 
 a bunch of mules were feeding at a little distance, 
 guarded by the " night wrangler." 
 
 In the centre of the enclosure, where the ruddy 
 light of the campfire brought out their anxious 
 faces in strong relief, stood the boys' father and 
 mother. John and Ben ran forward as fast as 
 their tired legs could carry them. They shouted 
 as loud as their dry, dust-coated throats would 
 allow. 
 
 It made them gulp simultaneously to see how 
 the expression of the two faces changed; the 
 woman's growing wholly tender and joyful, the 
 man's altered to that of relief rather than joy. 
 John knew from past experience that while the 
 mother would be glad to comfort and caress, the 
 father would not permit any such soft treatment. 
 They would be lucky if they got off with a sharp 
 rebuke. 
 
 Mrs. "Worth rushed to meet them, but her hus- 
 band restrained her. " You boys go over to 
 the cook-wagon and get something to eat, then
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 turn in. We've got to get off soon after day- 
 break. I'll see what you have to say for your- 
 selves to-morrow." 
 
 The cold supper John and Ben indulged 
 in that night would probably not interest 
 the ordinary pet dog of your acquaintance. 
 It consisted of cold, greasy pork and beans, 
 poor cold coffee without milk, and soggy bread, 
 but they thought it was food fit for the gods. 
 Hunger satisfied and thirst quenched, they 
 were glad enough to curl under a wagon, a 
 blanket their only covering and a saddle for a 
 pillow. 
 
 Before getting to sleep they heard the teamster 
 who had befriended them come into camp; his 
 team had revived enough to painfully cover the 
 remaining distance to the Worths' outfit. 
 
 They had hardly dozed off, it seemed to them, 
 when they heard the cook's shrill call, " Grub 
 p-i-i-i-le," and knew that breakfast was ready and 
 all hands must be astir. 
 
 After the blankets had been made into a 
 neat roll and put away in a wagon, breakfast 
 was despatched promptly, for cook, even on the 
 frontier, is an autocratic person, not to be kept 
 waiting. 
 
 The meal was much like the supper of the pre- 
 vious night, except that the food was hot. The 
 70
 
 CHITTING THE TRAIL." 
 
 boys then went down to the creek and soaked off 
 the dust that had gathered during their long 
 tramp. In an incredibly short time the train 
 had broken camp and was on the move again. 
 The cook's few dishes and pots were given a 
 hasty rinse in the creek and packed, the mules 
 and horses driven in, and the fresh ones harnessed 
 and saddled. The " day wrangler " took the 
 place of the " night wrangler," who promptly 
 lay down in one of the wagons and went to 
 sleep. 
 
 The procession fairly moving, John and his 
 brother were called up to explain their absence 
 of the afternoon and night before. This John 
 did with fear and trembling, for he feared his 
 father's wrath. He got off, however, with a 
 severe reprimand and positive orders not to go 
 out of sight of the wagons at any time, and the 
 boys went off congratulating themselves on their 
 lucky escape. 
 
 All that day the caravan travelled steadily, 
 stopping only at noon for dinner and for water. 
 Towards evening they came near their desti- 
 nation, reaching a clear creek bordered with 
 green. Up from the stream rose a hill, and 
 half way up was a strange-looking house, part 
 of which seemed to be buried in the side of the 
 slope. 
 
 71
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 The boys were somewhat surprised when they 
 were told that this was to be their home for the 
 winter. 
 
 " Look, John," exclaimed Ben, " we're going 
 to live in a hole in the ground." 
 
 72
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 IN A MINING CAMP. 
 
 " More like a tunnel with a porch to it, I 
 should say," said John, as they approached the 
 " dug-out." 
 
 Indeed, the "Worths' new home was an unpre- 
 possessing abode even after the familiar furni- 
 ture was in position, the bunks made ready for 
 use, and a fire built in the fire-place. 
 
 As its name showed, it was merely a hole or 
 tunnel in the slope of the hill, with a small log 
 house built out from it. But though it was not 
 luxurious, it was warm in winter and cool in 
 summer, the earth protecting it from extremes of 
 both heat and cold. The bare ground packed 
 hard served for a floor, and the fire-place was set 
 far back in the underground portion of the room, 
 its smoke outlet being a chimney of sod project- 
 ing through the roof. 
 
 Into this new and strange dwelling the house- 
 hold goods were carried, a fire was built, and in a 
 73
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 short while the place began to assume the appear- 
 ance of a home. "While this was being done, the 
 men looked up their own habitations, and found 
 that other dug-outs, not so large or well finished, 
 but fairly comfortable, were all ready for occu- 
 pancy. The mine had been opened already, and 
 the workmen had previously constructed these 
 huts, half caves, half houses, for themselves and 
 for the " boss's " family. 
 
 It was all a new experience for the boys, and 
 they investigated everything with great interest. 
 The idea of living in a hole in the ground struck 
 them for quite a while as very funny, and they 
 made jokes without end about it to each other. 
 
 The wagons had been placed in the wide creek 
 " bottom " the space cut out of the bank by the 
 current, which had since retreated to its present 
 narrower channel. This " bottom," for years 
 and years the stream's bed, was well supplied 
 with rich alluvial soil, and was in consequence 
 luxuriantly covered with fresh grass and vegeta- 
 tion of all kinds. 
 
 " I tell you, Jack," called Ben, when the boys 
 scrambled down the steep path to the creek, " this 
 is something like. Why, I can see bottom and 
 I declare, if I didn't see a fish sneak out of that 
 rooty place there." 
 
 He hopped on one foot and then on the other 
 74
 
 IN A MINING CAMP. 
 
 in his excitement, and then, somehow neither 
 he nor John could ever explain it he sud- 
 denly found himself splashing in the clear 
 stream. John caught hold of his heels and 
 dragged him out face down. His head had 
 scraped the soft bottom and his nose had made a 
 beautiful furrow in the mud. 
 
 "What were you trying to do?" inquired 
 John, as soon as he could get his breath. " Catch 
 the fish in your mouth? " 
 
 When Ben turned, spitting mud and digging 
 it out of his nostrils, John almost exploded with 
 laughter. " Maybe you think it's funny," 
 spurted the younger boy, " but wait till you come 
 to make a mud scow of yourself; then you won't 
 laugh quite so much." 
 
 John struggled to suppress his mirth, and after 
 a while succeeded as long as his brother's mud- 
 be-plastered visage was not in sight. 
 
 Face washed and good humor restored, the 
 boys' wandered further down the stream on a trip 
 of discovery. New delights opened at every 
 turn. A mile or so below the camp a beaver dam 
 was found, and as they drew near, one of those 
 clever, industrious little beasts shot down the T^T"" 
 
 slide they had constructed, with a kerflop into *' v ~ 
 
 Instantaneous sketches of 
 
 the pool. Here was sport indeed. The boys 2nd Swing?" 1 
 wondered how many of the curious animals the 
 75
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 brown, mud-plastered, dome-shaped houses con- 
 tained. The doors to these houses were under 
 water, and only the second story was above its 
 level. 
 
 " I tell you what," said John, " we'll have to 
 catch some of those beggars. Their skins are 
 worth money." And so they vowed to remem- 
 ber the spot and capture some of the inhabitants 
 of this semi-submarine village. 
 
 A little further along they came to a clearly 
 marked path, the edge of which (the centre was 
 beaten hard) was indented with small hoof prints 
 of deer and antelope. They saw, too, the cush- 
 ioned print of the great prairie wolf. Evidently 
 this was the haunt of game of all kinds. 
 
 On the way back the boys had little leisure to 
 examine the paradise they had discovered, for 
 the sun was sinking fast and they had wandered 
 further than they realized. An inviting pool 
 was noted, however, that would serve for a swim- 
 ming hole, and Ben unhesitatingly dubbed this 
 " plumb bully." John prevented him from 
 plunging into it right away only by main force 
 and the reference to his ducking, but he could 
 not keep him from taking of? his moccasins and 
 wading in whenever an opportunity occurred. 
 
 As they neared the camp the last rays of the 
 sun glinted down on them. The preparations 
 76
 
 IN A MINING CAMP. 
 
 for the evening meal were in full swing : the clat- 
 ter of tin dishes mingled with the clatter of 
 tongues, and the smoke pouring from the sod 
 chimneys bore a most savory odor that made the 
 boys realize they were hungry. 
 
 " I wish we had a rifle/' John was saying. 
 " We could have got one of those ducks we saw 
 down the creek for supper." 
 
 " Well, I'm going to have one, and a repeater, 
 too," returned Ben. " I'll have one if I ' 
 
 " Look out ! " yelled his brother, interrupting 
 him. At the same moment he jumped to his 
 side and pulled him violently back. Ben almost 
 fell, but his brother held him up and dragged him 
 still further. 
 
 " Look ! " he said, breathless with excitement. 
 
 Ben's eyes followed the direction of his point- 
 ing finger. There in the trail on which they had 
 been walking, on the exact spot where he had 
 been about to plant his bare foot, lay a big dia- 
 mond-backed rattler, asleep in the last rays of the 
 setting sun. 
 
 " Phew ! that was a close call," exclaimed 
 John. " You want to keep a sharp lookout 
 when you go barefoot. I can't watch out for 
 you all the time." 
 
 The younger boy, pretty badly scared, put on 
 his moccasins without delay and kept his eyes on 
 77
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 the trail after that. The rest of the way was 
 covered in almost absolute silence, for the escape 
 had been a narrow one, and both were sobered 
 by it. 
 
 The plain, wholesome supper over, the boys 
 were glad enough to turn in, and though the 
 bunks were anything but soft and the surround- 
 ings unfamiliar, the exertions of the day before 
 and the hardships of the night preceding it put 
 them to sleep in short order. 
 
 It was not long before the whole camp was 
 wrapped in slumber. The stock had been al- 
 lowed to run free, it being well known that they 
 would not stray far from the good feed that the 
 creek bottom afforded. All was silent without 
 and only the heavy breathing of the sleepers dis- 
 turbed the quiet within. " Spuds," the dog, 
 from time to time growled and barked inwardly 
 as he dreamed of a fierce chase after a gopher or 
 jack rabbit. At last even he subsided. 
 
 This absolute quiet was presently disturbed 
 by a howl, long, wailing, and dreadful, that 
 sounded through the low roof as if the thing 
 that caused it must be in the room itself. Ben 
 jumped up so suddenly that he struck his head 
 on his brother's bunk above him. 
 
 "What's that?" he cried, shaking with fear 
 at a sound he could not explain. John, his head 
 78
 
 IN A MINING CAMP. 
 
 stuck out of the berth above, was frightened him- 
 self, and could not explain the noise. 
 
 Again the fearful wail came, this time not so 
 distinct, but quite as awe-inspiring. The boys 
 drew a long breath of relief when their father 
 got up, took the rifle from the two pegs that sup- 
 ported it, and went to the door. His evident 
 calmness reassured them. As he reached the 
 door and fumbled with the latch, John and Ben 
 heard a soft but rapid patter of feet and then his 
 muttered exclamation: 
 
 " Plague take those pesky wolves, howling at 
 a man's door in the dead of night." 
 
 So the boys made acquaintance with the great, 
 gray prairie wolf at close quarters the first night 
 of their stay afar from civilization. 
 
 In a few days the men were in full swing at the 
 work for which they had come to this point. The 
 boys were too young to take part in the mining 
 operations, but even they had their chores to per- 
 form at certain times of the day, after which they 
 were at liberty to do much as they pleased, 
 within certain well-known limits. Their first 
 duty on being wakened between four and five 
 was to round up the stock and drive it in. This 
 was not such easy work as it sounds. The jour- 
 ney in search of the animals was long, and was 
 made on an empty stomach in the cold, raw morn- 
 79 
 
 -
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 ing air. Even when they were found, it was dif- 
 ficult to get them moving towards the camp. The 
 animals seemed at times to be endowed with dia- 
 bolical perversity, and would resist all efforts to 
 start them running in the right direction. The 
 mules and horses once corraled, the boys had an 
 appetite for breakfast that a dyspeptic would give 
 a fortune to acquire. After that hearty meal 
 the brothers supplied the camp with wood and 
 water and did what odd jobs were required about 
 the home. This completed their work for the 
 time. 
 
 After these duties were performed one morn- 
 ing, John and Ben bethought them of the beaver 
 village, and their spirits rose in anticipation of 
 the sport. A full trapper's outfit had been 
 brought to the camp. They got this out and 
 made up a pack containing several steel traps 
 (having strong jaws armed with sharp teeth and 
 set off by pressure of the animal's foot on the 
 trigger plate), an axe, some fishing line and 
 tackle in case a good pool was encountered, the 
 always present revolvers and ammunition, and a 
 small store of food. 
 
 Though it was their first experience in trap- 
 ping beaver, the boys were well versed in the 
 theory of the business; they had never let an op- 
 portunity go by to learn all they could about such
 
 IN A MINING CAMP. 
 
 sport. So they started with a fair knowledge at 
 least of the habits and ways of the beaver whom 
 they were to outwit. Their journey down to the 
 dam led them along the creek, and they noted 
 several inviting pools where bullheads and trout 
 were likely to lurk, planning to come back and 
 try to catch a string after they had set their traps. 
 
 Reaching the dam, they set to work. John 
 being the elder, at once took command of the 
 expedition. " You chop down some brush," he 
 ordered, " while I go over and punch a few holes 
 in the dam. These little beggars know a thing 
 or two and won't run into an uncovered trap." 
 
 " What do you want to cut down brush for? " 
 questioned Ben, as he shouldered the axe and pre- 
 pared to obey. 
 
 " Why, you see, when I break the dam the 
 water will rush out and show up the entrance to 
 the houses ; then after we go away the beaver will 
 get to work to build it up again, and will go for 
 the brush you have chopped down and get caught 
 in the traps we will set in it. See ? " 
 
 Ben's eyes danced at the prospect, and he 
 raced off to do his part. 
 
 The boys were soon out of sight of each other, 
 
 and John busied himself on the top of the dam 
 
 with a strong stick, poking holes ruthlessly 
 
 through it. He found it firmer than he had ex- 
 
 6 81
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 pected, and it took all his strength and skill to 
 tear it open. He pushed his stick in vertically, 
 in order to get a good purchase, and, encounter- 
 ing an unexpected obstacle, put his whole weight 
 into the thrust. All of a sudden the obstruction 
 gave away, the stick sank down till his hands 
 struck the ground, he lost his balance and fell 
 headlong into the deep part of the stream. 
 
 The water was well over his head, and after a 
 few minutes' struggling, he began to realize that 
 he was in a nasty situation. The dam was com- 
 posed mostly of slippery mud, which gave him 
 no hold, and burdened by his soaked clothing, he 
 could not swim to the bank. The water was icy 
 cold, and he felt almost numb at once. He called 
 to Ben, but could not make him hear. Then he 
 sank beneath the surface. 
 
 -Again he went down, but he kept his presence 
 of mind and struggled with might and main to 
 gain a foothold on the slimy slope. In spite of 
 his efforts to keep on top, he sank a third time, 
 but this time barely below the level of his eyes. 
 His work on the dam had accomplished its pur- 
 pose and the water was rushing out through a 
 leak, so that the depth was decreasing every 
 minute. He realized that if he could keep up 
 a little longer he would be all right. 
 
 Again he sank, too tired to do more, but this 
 82
 
 IN A MINING CAMP. 
 
 time was able to keep his mouth above water by 
 standing on tiptoe and stretching his neck to its 
 fullest extent. 
 
 Before long the water had receded so much 
 that he could wade ashore, though at times his 
 feet slipped into holes that let him down until he 
 was entirely under water. Reaching the bank, 
 he dragged himself up and lay down flat, for the 
 time quite exhausted. 
 
 He was more breathless than hurt, however, 
 and in a short time was able to get up and crawl 
 over to a sunny spot. 
 
 Ben came up presently and was inclined to 
 joke with his brother on his mishap; but after 
 John had told his story he took it more seriously. 
 
 The boys noted with satisfaction that the water 
 was now so low that the submerged entrances to 
 the beaver houses were visible. They therefore 
 hastened to place their traps in the brush that 
 Ben had cut. They then moved up the creek 
 to the fishing hole they had noted, to await devel- 
 opments and at the same time try their luck at 
 fishing. Ben took the line while John stripped off 
 his water-soaked clothes, hung them up to dry, 
 and then lay down in a warm sunny spot. It was 
 late in the fall, and the wind proved too search- 
 ing for comfort in this condition, so a fire was 
 built, by which he dried and warmed himself. 
 83
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 Beaver Chip. 
 
 The fish were hungry and bit early and often, 
 with the result that the pile of bullheads and 
 trout on the bank was soon a goodly sight to be- 
 hold. A few of them John cleaned and hung 
 over the fire with a forked stick. The meal 
 which followed was enjoyed to the full, and by 
 the time it was finished John's wet clothes were 
 fairly dry. Ben was for looking after the traps 
 right away, but his brother's more experienced 
 counsel prevailed, and they agreed to visit them 
 at the earliest opportunity the following morn- 
 ing. 
 
 The first minute after the next morning's work 
 was finished they hurried to the scene of John's 
 accident. After considerable searching (for they 
 had neglected to chain the traps fast to a log) 
 they found one. In it was a beaver's foot, well 
 provided with claws for digging, and gnawed off 
 clean above the joint. The brave little beast had 
 cut off his own leg to save his life. 
 
 "Well, I'm jiggered," said Ben. "If that 
 don't beat all. Don't you wish you had come 
 back when I wanted you to? " 
 
 " No; the beaver didn't show up till after dark, 
 probably. Besides, there are three other traps, 
 and there must be something in 'em or they 
 would be where we left 'em." 
 
 They searched and searched and called each 
 84
 
 IN A MINING CAMP. 
 
 other names because of their carelessness in not 
 making the traps fast. Finally they bethought 
 them of the possibility of the little animals' drag- 
 ging the cruel steel jaws with them to their 
 houses, which, instinct would teach them, were 
 their only safe refuges. 
 
 Sure enough, there were two of them dead, 
 drowned at their own door; the third was alive 
 and full of energy. Timid usually, the beaver 
 when caught or brought to bay will fight cour- 
 ageously. Ben stooped to drag the trap and its 
 captive out, but drew back so suddenly that his 
 head struck John, who was also leaning over, a 
 scientific blow on the nose. That maltreated and 
 indignant organ began to bleed freely, and it did 
 not console John to any great degree to learn that 
 the little beast had turned on Ben and that he had 
 come within an ace of having a finger bitten off 
 by its long yellow teeth. He was so alarmed at 
 this savage pugnacity that, without paying any 
 attention to the rap he had given John, he still 
 retreated, keeping his eyes on the hole. This 
 was needless, however, for the animal was hope- 
 lessly entangled. A shot from John's revolver 
 soon put the little creature out of its misery and 
 enabled them to drag it out without danger. 
 
 They returned to camp, triumphantly bearing- 
 three splendid beavers. But John held his hand 
 85
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 over his swelling nose and fast blackening eyes: 
 he could afford to accept with equanimity all 
 taunting references to his injured member, such 
 as, " Your nose is out of joint," and " What a 
 black look you have," for he had turned the 
 tables on Ted, who had laughed at him, calling 
 out : " Sonny, you think you're going on a beaver 
 hunt, but you're really going on a wild goose 
 chase." 
 
 Many more trips did the two boys make to this 
 and other beaver villages, and the pile of salted 
 skins grew to quite respectable proportions by the 
 time the ice began to form on the creek. 
 
 With winter came many added pleasures and 
 some extra work and discomfort. Paths to the 
 mine and to water had to be dug in the early 
 morning through the snow that had drifted dur- 
 ing the night, and this work was added to the 
 boys' regular tasks. The drawing of water had 
 now become more difficult, for a hole had to be 
 cut in the ice every time. Gathering wood, too, 
 was not easy, since it was necessary to burrow for 
 it through the white blanket of snow. 
 
 One of the men of the camp was a Swede called 
 " Yumping Yim," because of his racial inability 
 to pronounce the letter " J." He showed the 
 boys how to make snowshoes or skees, long strips 
 of wood curved up at the front, the bottom
 
 THE RIFLE RESTED CLOSELY AGAINST HIS CHEEK. (Pflf/e 99.) 
 
 BEX WENT OVER TO WHERE THE GAME LAY. (Page 100.)
 
 IN A MINING CAMP. 
 
 slightly concave to give a purchase on the crust 
 and prevent them from slipping sideways, the top 
 convex and rising slightly from toe and heel to 
 the centre where the foot rested. The boys soon 
 became proficient in the use of these and some- 
 times travelled considerable distances on them. 
 
 Exhilarating trips they were, over the crusted 
 snow, when swift, breathless slides were taken 
 down the hills, and skimming jumps from one 
 level to another. It was on one of these trips that 
 John and Ben saw for the first time a herd of 
 buffalo, their great, brown, closely-packed bodies 
 looking like an undulating sea of fresh earth 
 against the whiteness of the snow. With them 
 were. large numbers of antelope, these weaker 
 animals profiting by the ability of the powerful 
 buffalo to break into the drifts and uncover the 
 scanty herbage. 
 
 The boys skimmed back to camp, and soon all 
 the men formed themselves into a hunting party. 
 Luck was with them. The whole party crept 
 softly up, using every bit of cover that could be 
 found. Then there was a whispered consulta- 
 tion, rifles were levelled, Mr. Worth kicked a 
 lump of snow as a signal, and five guns barked 
 out together. John and Ben dashed forward in 
 wild excitement to find three antelopes lying 
 dead. Without stopping, the hunters pressed on 
 87
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 after the flying animals, and by nightfall a row 
 of antelope hung high up against the log portion 
 of the dug-out. Since the boys had no rifles of 
 their own and the family Winchester was in use, 
 they had to be content with long shots with 
 revolvers. 
 
 During the excitement following one of the 
 volleys, Ben, who had lingered behind, saw what 
 he thought was a wounded animal. He quickly 
 raised his pistol and fired. As he did so, the 
 figure rose and stood upright. It was Charley 
 Green! His winter clothing, like that of the 
 boys, was made of deerskin, his cap of the pelt of 
 the musk-rat even his hands and feet were 
 covered with deerskin soled with buffalo hide. 
 The deception had been complete, all too com- 
 plete, Charley thought, when he heard what a 
 narrow escape he had had. Ben shivered when he 
 realized what might have happened, and regis- 
 tered a mental vow to let any future deer get 
 away rather than run the risk of its being deer 
 only in hide and man beneath. 
 
 The boys had learned to cut out and make 
 their own winter deer-hide clothing, caps, shirts, 
 mittens, and " packs," or boots, soled with buffalo 
 hide, hair side in ; so they always had plenty to do 
 when indoors. Most of the days were spent on 
 their skees. They learned many new things and
 
 IN A MINING CAMP. 
 
 many ways of getting along under their new con- 
 ditions. For instance, a snow house had been 
 dug in a big drift which extended out over the 
 ice-covered creek, and a fire was built inside 
 which speedily melted a hole through to the 
 water. It was so much warmer under the 
 blanket of snow that this did not freeze over. 
 Through it the boys drew the supply of water 
 and caught many a fine string of fish. 
 
 The long winter evenings were spent around 
 the big fireplace, where the men made or patched 
 clothes, told stories, played cards, and smoked. 
 The camp was cut off from the world by the miles 
 and miles of deep white snow which overspread 
 the land in every direction. There was no dan- 
 ger from Indians, for even they could not move 
 under difficulties so insurmountable. Wolves 
 nightly came down from the hills and left their 
 footprints on the snow about the house, and es- 
 pecially under the row of frozen deer which 
 swung from a high support the winter supply of 
 meat killed after freezing weather set in. Both 
 night and day the coyotes howled and answered 
 each other from the high points round about, with 
 their wuh, wuh, wuh-aou-u-u-u-u-wuh-wuh. On 
 moonlight nights the scene from the front door 
 was entrancing. The wide, white valley 
 stretched up and down as far as the eye could see, 
 80
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 and the reaching white ridges of snow and utter 
 silence suggested illimitable distance. When 
 the wind blew, the fine snow slid along the en- 
 crusted surface, making a noise like hissing water 
 on a pebbly beach, while the finer particles, rising 
 in the air, created lunar rainbows of surpassing 
 beauty. Here indeed was loneliness, loveliness, 
 and solemn immensity. 
 
 90
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A SNOWSHOE BACE. 
 
 " I tell you what/' said Ben, one day when the 
 boys were off on their skees, " if we only had a 
 sled, what fun we'd have down these hills! " 
 
 " Well, what's the matter with making one? " 
 answered John, the ever-ready. " It would be 
 great; this crust is smooth as glass; we'd just fly." 
 
 At once they turned in their tracks and sped 
 for home to carry out their plan. 
 
 " I'll beat you in," said Ben. 
 
 " I'll bet you won't." 
 
 They started off evenly at the top of a slope. 
 A few long, half-stepping, half-sliding strokes 
 gave them impetus enough to slide. Both 
 crouched now in order to lessen the wind resist- 
 ance and to avoid the chance of losing their bal- 
 ance. They were very evenly matched; for 
 while John was the stronger, his brother was 
 light and not so apt to break through the crust. 
 Down they rushed with ever-increasing speed, 
 the particles of snow rising like spray before 
 91
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 them. The swishing, crunching noise grew into 
 a hum as they sped faster and faster. At first 
 Ben forged ahead he had got a better start 
 then John's weight began to tell and he gained 
 inch by inch. Ben crouched down still lower, 
 making his body in a compact little ball, but in 
 spite of all he could do his brother gained on him. 
 Now he was even, now a little ahead, and now 
 only his back could be seen by the younger. The 
 end of his scarf was standing out behind him 
 like a painted stick. The distance gradually in- 
 creased until perhaps twenty yards of glistening 
 snow lay between them. Ben was watching in- 
 tently for any slight grade of which he might 
 take advantage. All at once he noticed that 
 John had disappeared. 
 
 Almost at the same moment he too began to 
 drop. The racers had been watching each other 
 so closely that neither had noticed that they were 
 approaching the edge of a great drift. John 
 had sailed over first and landed right side up 
 some eight feet below, but so solidly that he 
 broke through the crust and stopped short, fall- 
 ing forward on his face. The instant of warn- 
 ing that Ben had, had put him on his guard: he 
 landed lightly and sped on, hardly checked. 
 
 " You will beat me, eh ! " he shouted derisively 
 to his discomfited brother, as he shot past. 
 93
 
 A SNOWSHOE RACE. 
 
 John scrambled up and started again, but the 
 incline was now very short, and by the time he 
 reached the level Ben was far in advance and 
 going well. It was a long, stern chase. How- 
 ever, the older boy's strength and weight were 
 great advantages now, and within half a mile 
 the two were on even terms again. For a time 
 they raced side by side, arms swinging in unison, 
 legs going like piston rods. Their feet were kept 
 absolutely straight, and so the long skates ran 
 exactly parallel, for if either foot should be 
 turned in or out ever so lightly, one skate would 
 cross the other and the skater would be tangled 
 up so quickly that he would not know what was 
 the matter. 
 
 The brothers were now sliding along side by 
 side, each straining every nerve to pass the other; 
 breath came in short puffs and showed on the 
 frosty air like the exhaust steam of a locomotive ; 
 perspiration began to appear, and the effort they 
 were putting forth was evidenced in the strained 
 look on their faces. 
 
 Faster and faster they went, skimming along 
 the level like a pair of swallows. They were 
 going too fast to be careful of their steps, and 
 Ben turned his right foot a little in. Instantly 
 the skates crossed in front, tripped him, and down 
 he went head foremost into the snow. His left 
 93
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 skee slipped off, flew towards John, caught be- 
 tween his legs, and threw him over backwards. 
 For a moment there was the utmost confusion. 
 The boys were stretched out, heads almost buried 
 in the snow, feet kicking wildly, and the long 
 skees beating the air like flails. Finally these 
 were kicked off, and the crestfallen racers man- 
 aged to get right side up. After much flounder- 
 ing they got their skees on again and continued 
 their journey, this time at a more deliberate pace. 
 They disputed all the way home as to which was 
 the faster, and finally agreed that the momentous 
 question could only be settled satisfactorily by 
 another match. 
 
 When they reached camp, a couple of boards, 
 a saw, a hatchet, and some nails were secured. 
 They sawed and chopped out the sides, nailed on 
 a couple of cross pieces for the seat and a diagonal 
 strip to brace the whole thing. This much was 
 easy, but both were at a loss to find anything for 
 runners until Ben remembered that strips of flat 
 steel had been used on some of the canned meat 
 boxes. These were stripped off, hammered flat, 
 and nailed at each end to the sides of what really 
 began to look like a conventional sled; the seat 
 board was fastened on and holes were bored for 
 the leading rope. 
 
 The boys looked at their handiwork with no 
 94
 
 A SNOW SHOE RACE. 
 
 little pride and pronounced it as fine a cutter as 
 the eastern variety. To be sure it was not beau- 
 tiful to look at, and did not bear any highly flour- 
 ished name like " Flyaway " or " P. D. Q.," but 
 it did not lack decoration altogether, for on one 
 side was branded " Use Higgins' Soap," while the 
 other commemorated " Ruby Brand Tomatoes." 
 
 In spite of its roughness and clumsiness it was 
 possessed of good speed and strength enough to 
 withstand all the ill-usage the boys gave it. 
 When the snow was soft they used broad runners 
 made of barrel staves, which they made fast to 
 each side, and thus turned their sled into a 
 toboggan. 
 
 If John and Ben wanted anything they had 
 to make it or earn enough to buy it money was 
 not so plentiful that it could be spent on toys and 
 mere amusements, and so they frequently had to 
 devise ways of getting the things they longed for. 
 John had made up his mind that he must have 
 a saddle, bridle, spurs, and quirt (a short, flex- 
 ible, braided whip) of his own; and when he 
 found that none of these things would be given 
 him, he determined to earn enough money to buy 
 them. Ben, too, had set his heart on owning a 
 repeating rifle (a style of arm that was rather 
 rare in those days) and so the brothers agreed to 
 work together at trapping, mining, or turning 
 95
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 a penny in any way that offered. The sum total 
 was to be divided in the spring, when each would 
 buy the long-desired articles. 
 
 As spring drew near, Mr. Worth decided to 
 move along and open another mine to the west- 
 ward, the first one being now in good working 
 order. 
 
 Again the family packed up their household 
 goods, abandoned the dug-out that had sheltered 
 them during the long winter months, and started 
 off on a pilgrimage. The spring was well ad- 
 vanced and the verdure of the prairie was in its 
 prime. Wild flowers were plentiful and the air 
 was filled with the melody of the song birds, that 
 of the meadow lark being sweetest and most sus- 
 tained. Robins, thrushes, plover, and curlews 
 all did their share to make spring beautiful. 
 
 Many prairie-dog villages were passed. The 
 queer little beasts sat on the mounds of earth be- 
 side the holes that served for homes, their curi- 
 osity drawing them out. The travellers took 
 snap shots at them, but they were as quick as 
 lightning and never stayed above ground long 
 enough to allow of careful aim. 
 
 John's industry had made him the proud pos- 
 sessor of a new saddle, whose creaking was music 
 in his ears, and even old Baldy seemed to be 
 pleased with his finery, for he pranced around
 
 A SNOWSHOE RACE. 
 
 like a two-year-old and arched his neck in a way 
 that seemed to say, " I'm about the finest thing 
 a-top of this earth." Ben had achieved his aim 
 also, and was the owner of a brand-new repeating 
 Spencer rifle, the result of the sale of the winter's 
 catch. 
 
 As the train went further westward the trail 
 grew more and more indistinct, and it became 
 the duty of the boys to go ahead and trace it 
 out. Later, when even the barely discernible 
 wheel tracks had disappeared, it was necessary 
 for them to pick out the best route and also to 
 find the camp sites. 
 
 This duty was a delightful one, for new country 
 was continually opening before them, and ad- 
 ventures of all kinds might offer at any moment. 
 
 "Ain't those antelopes over there by that 
 little hill ? " said John one day, pointing to one 
 side. 
 
 " That's right," answered Ben. " What's the 
 matter with chasing them? " He spoke with the 
 authority of the hunter. Possessing the rifle, no
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 opportunity to exploit it was ever allowed to slip; 
 nor, if the truth be told, was John slow in calling 
 attention to his saddle, spurs, and fringed leather 
 chaps. 
 
 " All right," said John. " We've never been 
 on an antelope hunt alone." 
 
 The boys went off at right angles from the 
 direction they had been taking and rode down a 
 shallow ravine or coulie in order to keep out of 
 sight of the game. They rode slowly along till 
 they reached the end of the depression ; here they 
 dismounted and each tied the forelegs of his 
 horse with the rope he carried on his saddle-horn: 
 they were not going to travel afoot again if they 
 could help it. It was now necessary to cross the 
 open prairie in plain view of the animals they 
 sought. Advantage was token of a well-known 
 characteristic of antelopes their curiosity. John 
 pulled the handkerchief from his neck and began 
 to wave it slowly to and fro over his head as he 
 walked. Ben followed in his brother's tracks, 
 making himself as inconspicuous as possible and 
 fingering the lock of his repeater to be sure that 
 it was in good working order. 
 
 The boys drew nearer and nearer, and the flag- 
 ging was kept up persistently; but it did not seem 
 to have any effect, for the animals were all look- 
 ing the other way. Still they drew nearer ; their 
 98
 
 A SNOWSEOE RACE. 
 
 eyes were fixed on their quarry, the rifle held 
 ready, every nerve tense, each heart beating furi- 
 ously with excitement. 
 
 Then it was seen that the antelopes were at- 
 tracted by the white tops of the wagons, which 
 were moving slowly along over the plain. The 
 wagon train was " flagging " them. Now if the 
 hunters could get within range before the spell 
 of curiosity had been satisfied, all would be well. 
 
 The boys moved cautiously along till they 
 came to a sunken " buffalo wallow," a muddy 
 place frequented by the bison for the sake of the 
 moisture. This afforded the shelter that was 
 needed. Attracted by the flapping canvas 
 wagon-tops, the unsuspecting animals drew 
 slowly near the hiding place. 
 
 "Oh! if they would only come just a little 
 closer," said Ben under his breath, " I'd have 
 them sure." 
 
 Once they stopped and sniffed the air, but just 
 as Ben was about to chance a long-distance shot, 
 they moved on again. 
 
 " Now, Ben ! " said John, excitedly. 
 
 For an instant the stock of the rifle rested 
 closely against the boy's cheek then the shot 
 rang out. Almost simultaneously the biggest of 
 the herd leaped into the air, then fell flat to the 
 ground. The others stood still, bewildered. 
 99
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 " Good ! ifc>w for another one," whispered 
 John. Again the rifle was raised and again its 
 deadly crack sounded forth. Another antelope 
 bounded up, ran frantically a few yards, and 
 dropped. At this the rest of the herd made off 
 like the wind, and in a few minutes were mere 
 specks on the horizon. 
 
 " Well, I must say," said Ben, exultingly, " I 
 thought once that I would rather have your 
 saddle and outfit, but now ' he slapped the 
 stock of his rifle affectionately " I wouldn't 
 swap if you gave me Baldy to boot." 
 
 "Baldy to boot, eh? AVhy, I wouldn't swap 
 that horse for a whole stack of rifles." And 
 John moved off in indignation to get the horses, 
 while Ben went over to the spot where the game 
 lay. 
 
 The carcasses were packed on Ben's horse, both 
 boys mounting Baldy. They were welcomed 
 heartily at the camp, for fresh meat was at a pre- 
 mium, and any change of diet was an event of 
 prime importance. 
 
 " That gun of yours must be chained light- 
 ning," said Ted. " I didn't suppose you could 
 hit the side of a hill at fifty yards." 
 
 Many days of travelling followed over country 
 that had apparently never been covered by a 
 wagon before. 
 
 100
 
 A SNOWSHOE RACE. 
 
 During this long journey the boys came to 
 know the men of the party very well. They 
 were apt to be sharply divided into good and bad, 
 for in those rough times people showed their real 
 characters without reserve. 
 
 Charley Green still continued with the com- 
 pany, and he was the boys' greatest friend; but 
 Tom Malloy, who joined the expedition just be- 
 fore it started out for the new camp, soon got 
 into John's good graces. He was a man of va- 
 ried talents: a gambler and saloon keeper when 
 times were good; a miner, cow-puncher, or hunter 
 when his money ran out. Rough, quick-tem- 
 pered, and as ready with his fists as with his 
 " gun," he was nevertheless possessed of a great 
 heart and a loyalty to his friends that nothing 
 could shake. Like many of his race he loved a 
 fight and delighted to have a lively " argument " 
 with a man. John's boldness and aggressiveness 
 pleased him greatly, and he looked the boy over, 
 enumerating his good points over to himself : his 
 broad chest, sturdy legs and arms, his clear eyes 
 and fearless look all showed to Malloy's experi- 
 enced eye that he would make a first-rate boxer. 
 
 " I'll show that youngster how to put up his 
 hands sure," he said to himself. 
 
 It was a tiresome journey, long and monoto- 
 nous, but enlivened now and then by a hunt or 
 101
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 an excursion. The train was to go by way of 
 the Hart River road, and it seemed to the 
 younger members of the expedition as if it would 
 never be reached. But find it at last they did, 
 a few wagon ruts not very clear nor strongly 
 marked. 
 
 The boys' task was now much easier, for the 
 way was marked plainly before them and it was 
 comparatively smooth travelling. Many wide 
 excursions were made on either side of the trail, 
 and many hunting expeditions were indulged in. 
 Ben became a very good shot, and the constant 
 supply of fresh meat gave evidence of his skill. 
 
 After many days' journey the " Bad Lands " 
 were reached. That desolate country, scarred 
 and pitted, was void of vegetation except on the 
 bottoms and near the infrequent water courses. 
 Here the wagon road disappeared altogether, and 
 the pioneers found it necessary in many cases 
 practically to build one, to level some places and 
 make inclines down steep banks at others. Often 
 all the teams had to be hitched to one wagon in 
 order to drag it up a sharp ascent or through a 
 miry place. 
 
 In many spots the ground was very treacher- 
 ous, especially at the edge of a cut. The soil was 
 loose, pliable stuff, liable to give way under the 
 weight of a horse. Badger and gopher holes 
 102
 
 A SNOWSHOE RACE. 
 
 added to the danger by undermining the banks 
 in unexpected places. 
 
 One morning John was sent out on Baldy (his 
 constant companion and faithful friend) to pick 
 out, if possible, an easier way. Boy and horse 
 started out on a smart trot, each having full con- 
 fidence in the other as was necessary, for almost 
 as much depended on the sagacity of the steed in 
 the matter of picking a way on dangerous ground 
 as in the intelligence of the rider. It was a task 
 of considerable responsibility that was put on 
 John's shoulders; the route was difficult enough 
 to puzzle a professional civil engineer. Baldy 
 was left to find his own way while his rider looked 
 ahead-to choose a road that could be travelled by 
 the wagons. From time to time it became neces- 
 sary to go down the almost perpendicular side of 
 a coulie, when the horse would hunch his hind- 
 legs, keeping his forelegs stiff and stretched out 
 to their fullest extent. Then he would fairly 
 slide down on his tail. 
 
 John had found a place that he thought suit- 
 able for the night's camp, had traced out a way 
 by which it might be reached, and had turned his 
 pony back towards the wagons. 
 
 He thought to himself, as they slid down one 
 bank and scrambled up the other, that it would 
 be a bad place to be thrown. The surface was 
 103
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 pitted with half-concealed badger holes, and in 
 the bottoms were many spots where a horse might 
 easily be mired. Baldy, however, knew his busi- 
 ness and carried his rider over awkward places 
 safely. John was congratulating himself on the 
 successful conclusion of his errand when he came 
 to the bank of what was in the early spring a 
 roaring torrent, but which now lacked even a 
 trickle of water. To the edge of this cut Baldy 
 approached cautiously. John, anxious to get back 
 to the wagons and report, urged him on. "With 
 a shake of his head that seemed to say : " Well, 
 you are the boss, so here goes; but I don't like the 
 looks of it," the pony went forward, gathering 
 his hind legs under him to make his usual slide 
 when the ground beneath him gave way. Horse 
 and rider went rolling down the slope, but as 
 John felt himself falling he loosened his foot 
 from the stirrup and leaped off, just in time. Boy 
 and steed arrived at the bottom about the same 
 time, but separately. John's mouth, eyes, nose, 
 and ears were full of dirt and dried grass; in fact, 
 he always declared that he ate his proverbial peck 
 of dirt then, all at once; but he soon discovered 
 that, barring a few bruises and a badly hurt pride, 
 he was all right. As soon as he got the dust 
 out of his eyes and realized that the earth had not 
 risen, out of special spite against him, he looked 
 104
 
 "CROW HAT'S FACINO THIS WAY." (Pnge 117.) 
 
 THE INDIAN CAMP. (Pag? 116.)
 
 A SNOWSHOE RACE. 
 
 for his horse, and was much relieved to find that 
 his four-footed partner had received nothing 
 more than a bad shaking up. Baldy's attitude, 
 however, was anything but dignified. His feet 
 were waving in air, his head was buried in the 
 loose soil, his body was so covered with mother 
 earth that he seemed like some strange freak of 
 nature. As the boy got up, the horse looked at 
 him, he thought, reproachfully and seemed to 
 say: " I told you so." 
 
 " Yes, old chap," replied John aloud, " you do 
 know a thing or two, and I'll trust you more next 
 time." 
 
 John never told of his mistake and tumble, but 
 explained the dusty appearance of himself and 
 horse by reference to the well-known character- 
 istic of the " Bad Lands," its stifling alkali dust. 
 
 105
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A BUFFALO HUNT. 
 
 Many weeks were spent in the migration, and 
 it became exceedingly monotonous and tiresome 
 before their destination was at last sighted. 
 When, one beautiful afternoon, Mr. Worth 
 pointed ahead to a rolling knoll covered with 
 trees and announced that there was their future 
 home, John and Ben set up a wild cheer and 
 dashed ahead to examine the spot. Camp was 
 pitched on the banks of the Yellowstone, and 
 dug-outs were made the cave part first and then 
 the outer portion of substantial logs. Two large 
 cabins were constructed for the family's dwelling 
 and kitchen, and several more for the men, of 
 whom there were many, this being an important 
 mine. 
 
 No time was lost in settling, and in an incred- 
 ibly short while the household belongings were in 
 place, the provisions stowed away safely, and the 
 regular camp routine begun. It was necessary 
 to get a considerable portion of the tunnel driven 
 106
 
 A BUFFALO HUNT. 
 
 before frost came. The opening was made hori- 
 zontally into the side of the hill and continued in 
 a straight line until the vein of coal was struck, 
 when the tunnel had to follow it in whatever 
 direction it went. 
 
 The boys were to be initiated into real miner's 
 work at this camp. They were well grown, 
 strong lads, fully able to do their share. During 
 the preliminary digging of the drift they did 
 little beyond their regular chores, except to drive 
 the teams that carted away the earth from the 
 mouth of the cave. 
 
 The important duty of supplying the camp 
 with fresh meat was also entrusted to them, and 
 it was not long before every haunt of furred and 
 feathered thing that lived within a radius of 
 miles around was known to them. 
 
 Within a few weeks after the establishment 
 of the camp all preliminary work had been com- 
 pleted and the mine was ready for business. To 
 facilitate the delivery of coal to daylight, a rough 
 railroad had been built; its tracks were of wood, 
 its rolling stock one small, four-wheeled box car, 
 its motive power, Jerry the mule. Of this under- 
 ground railway John was installed as president, 
 board of directors, general manager, inspector 
 general, passenger and freight agent, chief engi- 
 neer, and superintendent of motive power. One 
 107
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 day he was engaged in his many brain-taxing 
 duties, the most trying of which was keeping the 
 motive power " moting." The flaring lamp in 
 his hat showed but little of the mule's tough hide, 
 but that little the superintendent belabored 
 lustily. The little car rumbled and bumped 
 along the rough wooden rails on its way to one 
 of the rooms where the coal was being dug. 
 John whistled cheerily to himself and occasion- 
 ally interrupted the melody to shout into the 
 mule's wagging ears : " Git up, Jerry ! " Soon 
 a point of yellow light appeared far off in the 
 darkness, and as the lumbering car went on it 
 grew in size and strength until its nature could 
 be made out distinctly. 
 
 " Hello, Ben," shouted the young driver to his 
 brother, whose cap-light had showed so clearly 
 up the tunnel. " You'd better oil the hinges of 
 that door; they squeak like a hungry rat." 
 
 The mule had stopped before a great door 
 which blocked the way; it was so placed as to 
 change the ventilating current of air, and it was 
 Ben's duty to open and close it after each loaded 
 or empty car. He sat in a little recess of the 
 wall and pulled the door open and shut with the 
 aid of a rope. 
 
 " It's mighty lonesome here," said he. " Seems 
 as if I couldn't stand it sometimes, so I brought 
 108
 
 A BUFFALO HUNT. 
 
 along the ' Arabian Mghts ' to-day. Been read- 
 ing about Aladdin ; he was underground, too, but 
 all he had to do was to rub a lamp and he just 
 wallowed in pearls, diamonds, and things, while 
 I sit here all day for half a dollar, and do nothing 
 but open and shut this door for you and your 
 old mule." 
 
 " Yes, I know all about him," answered John, 
 as he drove through the doorway. 
 
 " 'Tisn't true, any way," shouted Ben after 
 him. " Couldn't be. Aladdin was a Chinaman, 
 and no Chink ever made even a dollar a day." 
 
 " Guess you're right, but don't get lonesome," 
 the voice came echoing back through the dark- 
 ness, mingled with the rumble of the car and the 
 sharp slap of the stick on poor Jerry's flank. 
 
 For a month or more John continued to drive 
 the mule and Ben tended the door. It was late 
 one afternoon, and the younger boy was feeling 
 very tired of living away from the sun and the 
 bright fresh air; the darkness and dankness op- 
 pressed him not a little, so he was glad to hear 
 John's strong voice singing: 
 
 ' ' Down in the coal mine, 
 
 Underneath the ground, 
 Digging dusky diamonds 
 All the year around." 
 
 109
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 " I'd sing too if I was getting a dollar 'stead of 
 a half, and had a chance to see daylight once in 
 a while," grumbled Ben as his brother stopped 
 to talk a bit. 
 
 "Hold on a while and don't get excited," coun- 
 selled the elder. " I'm going to be promoted, 
 and what's the matter with you moving up too? " 
 
 "Why? How?" inquired the discontented 
 one eagerly. 
 
 " I'm going to be a regular miner ; going to 
 work with Bill Cooper, best miner out, father 
 says." 
 
 " Then I'll drive Jerry and gather in the 
 dollar," cried Ben. " But who'll tend door? " 
 
 For a minute the boy's face showed his dis- 
 appointment; then he smiled again as the 
 thought came of a way out of the difficulty. A 
 friendly Indian camp was located across the 
 river, and the boys, white and red, often came 
 together for all sorts of sports. 
 
 " Why not get ' Coyote-on-a-hill ' to work the 
 door while I run the car? " said Ben exultingly. 
 " He'd be scared to death at first, but I'll tell him 
 about the fifty cents a day and that will brace his 
 nerve." 
 
 And so it turned out. The Indian boy took 
 Ben's place, while John turned over Jerry to his 
 brother and cast in his fortunes with Bill Cooper. 
 110
 
 A BUFFALO HUNT. 
 
 " Coyote-on-a-hill " was pretty badly scared 
 the first day, but Ben gave him a word of encour- 
 agement whenever he went by, and never failed 
 to remind him of the money he was making, so 
 he stuck it out like a man, and presently got 
 quite used to the dreary darkness. 
 
 Both of the A\ r orth boys expressed themselves 
 as pleased with the change; what Jerry thought 
 of it he never remarked. 
 
 John found his new work anything but easy. 
 Bill Cooper was a fearless miner and a hard 
 worker, and his assistant had all he could do to 
 keep up with the task set for him. It was neces- 
 sary first to cut under the mass of coal that was 
 to be dislodged; to do this John had to lie on his 
 side and so swing his pick in a cramped position. 
 To make the vertical cut was not much easier, 
 for he found it hard to work squeezed in between 
 the walls of coal as the crevice deepened. The 
 bottom and side cuts made, he bored holes (round 
 holes with a flat drill, the knack of which he ac- 
 quired only after long practice and a choice col- 
 lection of smashed fingers) and then tamped in 
 the paper cartridge of powder. When the fuse 
 was in place, all that was needed to complete the 
 work was a light from his lamp. The former 
 was plain, straightforward hard work, the latter 
 sport. The fuse lay like a snake just sliding into 
 111
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 its hole, the place was quiet as death and as dark 
 as a tomb, except where the flickering glare of 
 the young miner's lamp shone; his face was cov- 
 ered with coal dust, through which his eyes 
 peered with unnatural prominence. 
 
 He w T ould take the lamp from his cap, stoop 
 down and touch the bare flame to the end of the 
 snake fuse; it would immediately begin to sputter 
 sparks, and as John drew back for safety he could 
 watch it eat its way towards the black wall and 
 the powder within it. The red sparks drew 
 nearer and nearer the hole, then, after a spiteful 
 little shower, disappeared. It seemed a long time 
 to the miner waiting behind his protecting shield 
 before the rending, shaking report sounded, fol- 
 lowed by the glare of the explosion and the rattle 
 of the falling coal. Then Ben soon turned up 
 with Jerry, and both boys shovelled the loose coal 
 of varying-sized lumps into the car. 
 
 Bill Cooper, though insisting that John must 
 do his share, generally took the hardest and most 
 dangerous places himself; so it came about one 
 day that the boy worked at the vertical cut while 
 his partner cut under, propping up the mass of 
 coal (with wooden logs cut for the purpose) as 
 he went in deeper. 
 
 The work was hard, and neither man nor boy 
 spent any breath in talking. The dull ring of 
 112
 
 A BUFFALO HUNT. 
 
 the pick was the only sound. Deeper and deeper 
 grew the crevice; soon only John's foot was vis- 
 ible and Cooper had disappeared entirely under 
 the overhanging ledge of coal; only the faint 
 glowing of the light and the sound of the tools 
 betrayed the workmen. It was dirty, tiring, 
 dangerous work. At any moment that great 
 mass of mineral might fall if the supports were 
 not properly placed or the king-brace happened 
 to be lodged in a soft spot. 
 
 " Come out if you want to save your skin, 
 Bill," cried John suddenly. " I hear it popping 
 and working all around, and it's beginning to 
 move." 
 
 " In a minute. Wait till I dig out this far 
 corner." His voice seemed to come from the 
 bowels of the earth and had such an uncanny 
 sound that John shivered. 
 
 " Hurry ! !Never mind the corner it's going 
 to fall. Come out, quick! " John's voice had 
 such a note of fear and entreaty in it that the 
 man below was impressed. 
 
 " All right," he said, " I'll come right along." 
 
 The boy stopped working and listened. There 
 was a peculiar sliding sound that filled the air 
 all about him, and from time to time a stone 
 dropped to the floor with an echoing rattle. 
 
 " Come out." With an appalling roar the 
 
 8 113
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 great mass of coal came down. John was badly 
 squeezed, his light was extinguished, and all the 
 breath was knocked out of him, but he managed 
 to work himself free and make his way to the 
 room. His only thought was of Bill, under that 
 heap of coal somewhere, and of the need of 
 help. 
 
 He rushed along blindly through the solid 
 darkness, his hands outstretched before him, 
 shouting as he went, " Help, quick! " 
 
 Some men who were working in the entry an- 
 swered him. 
 
 " What's up? " they asked. 
 
 " Help ! Bill lies under a whole lot of coal." 
 
 They hurried to the coal face, and John 
 showed them where he thought the imprisoned 
 man lay, buried under tons of coal; the men, 
 seizing picks, wedges, and sledges, began work- 
 ing frantically to rescue their comrade. 
 
 For half an hour they toiled as they never 
 toiled before. Then there was a cry of horror. 
 The body was found. The poor fellow's arms 
 were raised in the very act of swinging his pick, 
 and he evidently had had an instant and well- 
 nigh painless death. 
 
 " Well, boys, I hope mine comes as easy as 
 his," said old Mike McGuire, who had witnessed 
 many a similar scene. 
 
 114
 
 A BUFFALO HUNT. 
 
 They took up the body gently and tenderly 
 laid it in the car, the mule was unhitched, and 
 the miners pushed it slowly to the open air, the 
 whole force following. 
 
 On Sunday Bill's sorrowing comrades buried 
 him. Mr. Worth read a few verses from the 
 camp's only Bible, offered a short prayer, and the 
 simple ceremony was over. 
 
 Of Bill Cooper, like many of the men of that 
 time, little was known, and if any one should 
 question as to his origin he would probably be 
 answered with, " Came from the East, I guess." 
 He had made many friends, but none felt his 
 tragic death more than his young partner. 
 
 After this the work became irksome. John 
 did not get along so well with his new partner, 
 and often when he stopped to rest the sight came 
 before his eyes of his dead friend as he lay under 
 the black shroud of coal. Nevertheless, he toiled 
 away faithfully, and seemed in a fair way of be- 
 coming an expert coal miner. 
 
 It was now well towards midwinter, and the 
 boys began to long after some skating on the 
 clear ice which had for some time covered the 
 river completely. Alec was a handy blacksmith, 
 and at their entreaties he set to work and fash- 
 ioned them two pairs of rough but very service- 
 able skates. Since skating on the ice was some- 
 115
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 thing the boys had never learned, they had to get 
 Yumping Yim, the Swede, to teach, them how 
 to use these new acquisitions. Though they 
 were rude affairs, the boys, whose muscles were 
 developed by snowshoeing, soon managed to 
 make good headway on the river. In a sharp 
 spin down the glassy surface after the day's work 
 was over they could forget that their backs ached 
 and their arms were heavy as lead. The brisk 
 wind and change of exercise was like a tonic to 
 them, and though the air-holes in the ice made 
 night skating rather dangerous, it only added zest 
 to their enjoyment. 
 
 As the boys skimmed past the Indian camp, 
 which was a large one, they sometimes found a 
 whole delegation of young savages out to watch 
 their progress. The Indians had never seen 
 skates before, and their wonder and interest were 
 great. This camp, in turn, greatly interested 
 the white boys; as they lay in bed they could 
 hear the fium-bum-bum-bum of the medicine 
 man's tom-tom come booming monotonously over 
 the river. This sound continued so everlastingly 
 every night that the boys' curiosity was aroused 
 and they determined to see what the medicine 
 man did besides making such a row. 
 
 After dark one night, they stole out and over 
 to the red men's lodges, traced tht booming 
 116
 
 A BUFFALO HUNT. 
 
 noise, and finally, after great care and much 
 dodging for the Indian will not tolerate any- 
 spying on or interference with what he considers 
 sacred they reached the tepee from which the 
 sound came; then they crept round to the open- 
 ing flap and John cautiously thrust his head in, 
 but quickly withdrew it. 
 
 " What's the matter? " whispered Ben. 
 
 " Old Crow Hat's facing this way. I was 
 afraid he'd see us," John answered. " Let's look 
 under this side." 
 
 Suiting the action to the word, the boys lifted 
 the side of the tent-like lodge and gazed at the 
 old medicine man. He was seated before the 
 fire, his tom-tom between his knees, his head 
 bowed low, and his long hair hanging over his 
 face (an uncommon condition, for the red men 
 generally keep their hair most neatly parted). 
 Crow Hat swayed to and fro in time with the 
 slow beating of his drum, and as he swung he 
 chanted, il Eeyuh! Eeyuh! Eeyuh! " raising 
 and lowering his voice as the tom-tom was beaten 
 loudly or softly. Long the boys watched him, 
 fascinated by the weird sound. Suddenly he 
 began to thump his drum furiously and his voice 
 rose from a low half-grunt to a shriek. The 
 "Eeyuh! Eeyuh!" was now like the wail of a 
 fierce wind. 
 
 117
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 This was too much for the boys' strained 
 nerves. They backed away hurriedly and made 
 for home, and it was some time before the sound 
 of that last frenzied cry died out of their ears. 
 
 Bill Cooper's end had a great effect on John, 
 and he was glad of the first opportunity to get out 
 of the black hole and into the open air. Indeed, 
 both boys welcomed the work of cutting and 
 hauling props for the mine, which fell to them 
 soon after their night visit to the Indians. 
 
 The elder was busily working unloading props 
 at the mine entrance one day when Ben came 
 down to him excitedly : " Say, John," he cried, 
 " a squaw just came down from the big flat and 
 she says she saw some buffalo over beyond the 
 camp. The Indians over the creek are saddling 
 up to go for them. Can't we go?" 
 
 " I don't know," said John, excited in turn. 
 " You'll have to ask father. Go on up and see 
 him while I finish this job." 
 
 The youngster went off on the run, and in a 
 moment returned. One look at his face was 
 sufficient to show John that he had the desired 
 permission. 
 
 The mules were unhitched and turned out for 
 
 the day. Baldy and Ben's horse were quickly 
 
 saddled, rifles, belts, and cartridges were slung 
 
 on, and in a twinkling the two young hunters 
 
 118
 
 THE BIGGEST GAME THE COUNTRY AFFORDKD. (Pf'ffe 119.) 
 
 A SQUAW . . . JUST SAW SOME BUFFALO. (Page 118.)
 
 A BUFFALO HUNT. 
 
 were off after the biggest game the country af- 
 forded. 
 
 When they got to the camp they found that 
 most of the bucks had already started, but old 
 " Wolf Voice/' a minor chief with whom the 
 boys had made friends, still remained. 
 
 "There's Wolf Voice; he'll let us go with 
 him," said John. " Hello, can we go with you? " 
 he shouted to the old man. / / 
 
 "You got good horse? Me go quick," ' 
 grunted the brave. 
 
 " I guess we'll keep up," and Baldy danced as 
 if to show his mettle. In a few minutes they 
 were on their way up the slope to the plateau 
 which surrounded the camping place. Baldy 
 kept up easily with the Indian's pony and Wolf 
 Voice turned after they had covered a mile at a 
 round pace. " Heap good horse," said he. 
 
 " Yes," replied John. " He can beat anything 
 around here in a half-mile run. Want to try 
 now?/' 
 
 The temptation was great, for the pony the 
 chief rode was his best, but the thought of the 
 chase restrained him. "Plenty ride soon," hesaid. 
 
 The level reached, the boys found that the 
 great shaggy beasts were already surrounded, so 
 they took a place in the circle and waited im- 
 patiently for a chance at the game. 
 119 

 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 With a yell the Indians rode towards the dazed 
 animals, who now separated and began to run 
 frantically in all directions. The party of hunt- 
 ers, of whom there were about twenty-five, also 
 split up into little groups, and each party chased 
 a buffalo. One of the animals came towards the 
 boys. 
 
 " Get out of his way," yelled John to his 
 brother, " and let him pass between us. Then 
 fire as he goes." 
 
 The great lumbering beast came nearer and 
 nearer, and as they watched, ready to spring 
 away in case he should charge them, they noticed 
 that he was being followed far off by an Indian. 
 
 " Now shoot," shouted John, as the quarry 
 rushed by. Both rifles rang out, but the buffalo 
 passed on without showing a sign of being hit. 
 Immediately Ben's horse bolted with him, but 
 Baldy stood his ground till his rider urged him 
 after the fleeing game. John held his rifle ready 
 to make a safe shot when opportunity offered. 
 The horse was now gaining rapidly, but hearing 
 the thump of hoofs behind him and then an In- 
 dian yelling, he turned his head and saw that 
 Big Hawk, a young brave, was shouting some- 
 thing. He could not hear what it was, however, 
 and paid no attention. 
 
 The race continued, and John's whole thought 
 120
 
 A BUFFALO HUNT. 
 
 was to get in a good shot. Zip ! it was the unmis- 
 takable sound of a bullet, and as the boy turned 
 to see from whence it came, zip! another bullet 
 went humming by: the Indian was firing from 
 behind, and the shots were coming unpleasantly 
 close. John drew Baldy to one side just in time 
 to get out of the pathway of another leaden 
 pellet. 
 
 This last shot caught the buffalo in the leg, 
 and he lunged forward on his massive head. Big 
 Hawk then rode up and riddled him with bullets. 
 
 John was angry clear through. 
 
 " The coward," he muttered. " Might have 
 hit me 'twasn't his fault he didn't either. Any- 
 body could do up a buffalo from behind. 'Fraid 
 I'd get him, I guess. See that? " he added as 
 Ben came up. 
 
 Ben was indignant too, and both boys went 
 up to where the young buck was skinning the 
 scarcely dead beast, determined to have their 
 share. The Indian protested against sharing the 
 game, but Wolf Voice happened to come up at 
 this moment, and, with the authority of a chief, 
 soon settled the dispute by giving the boys a fine 
 hind quarter. This they lashed securely with a 
 lariat on Ben's horse. Then both rode off tri- 
 umphantly on Baldy. 
 
 121
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A CLOSE FINISH. 
 
 " Boys, you'll have to go and hunt those spare 
 nniles to-morrow; they haven't been seen for a 
 week." Thus Mr. Worth greeted the boys as 
 they came shuffling in after a long day of 
 mingled work and play one evening not long 
 after the buffalo hunt. 
 
 The following morning the youngsters 
 mounted their horses, after completing their 
 early chores, and started out. " Where shall we 
 go? " asked Ben. 
 
 " Let's look among the Indians' ponies ; those 
 mules are always following their cayuses 
 around." The plan was no sooner made than 
 executed. They trotted along the edge of the 
 river for several miles, the crisp morning air act- 
 ing like a tonic on horse and rider. Baldy was 
 too old and dignified to be foolish, but his springy 
 stride, wide-awake look, and quick response to 
 each word of urging betokened his good condi- 
 122
 
 A CLOSE FINISH. 
 
 tion and enjoyment. Ben's horse, a little bunchy 
 cow pony with an occasional wicked streak in him, 
 danced about as if he were worked by electri- 
 city and the current was being turned on and off. 
 
 The ford reached, the ponies waded in till the 
 boys had to cross their legs in front of the saddles 
 to keep from getting wet. 
 
 On the other side they found a bunch of a 
 couple of hundred horses, and as they drew near 
 the herders came charging down on them. They 
 feared horse thieves, but John explained matters, 
 and after a long sign-language talk learned that 
 there were six of the long-eared runaways tied 
 at the camp. They had been put there for safe 
 keeping, since they had been killing colts and 
 were in danger of being roughly used by the 
 horses in consequence. A grown " pony," 
 though generally smaller, will drive out a mule 
 in short order, and these plucky little animals 
 are never afraid to tackle their vicious antago- 
 nists. 
 
 The boys went back on the opposite side of the 
 river from which they had come until the camp 
 was reached. 
 
 They found the Indian village all agog with 
 
 excitement, and for a time could not get any of 
 
 the braves to answer their inquiries about the 
 
 missing mules. A horse race was to be held, and 
 
 123 

 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 the usually stoical bucks could for the time being 
 think of nothing else. 
 
 The whereabouts of the missing animals was 
 learned before long, however, and an Indian 
 went with them to see that they really belonged 
 to the Worth outfit. On their way they had to 
 pass straight through the village of several hun- 
 dred tepees, and many were the greetings of 
 " How ! " that were shouted to them. 
 
 On the outskirts of the camp many braves 
 were standing around, making bets, grooming 
 their horses, and comparing notes. Little red- 
 skins darted everywhere in and out between their 
 elders' legs and shouted shrilly to each other. 
 The boys found it hard to go on to attend to their 
 errand, and though neither said anything for a 
 while, they looked appealingly at each other. 
 " If \ve find the mules belong to us," said John, 
 finally, in answer to Ben's questioning look, 
 " we'll take 'em part way back, tie 'em, and then 
 come here and see the races." So they went on 
 reluctantly, leaving the gesticulating, grunting 
 crowd behind them. 
 
 The captive animals were, as they hoped, the 
 ones they had been seeking, and if the guide 
 had any doubts of their ownership the big "W 
 branded on the shoulder of each beast soon dis- 
 pelled them. " Lucky there's a fort near by," 
 124
 
 A CLOSE FINISH. 
 
 said John. " We'd never have seen those critters 
 again if there hadn't been." The mules were 
 driven back to a point convenient of access on 
 the trip back to the mine and tied securely. 
 Then both boys rushed over to the course as fast 
 as their ponies could go. 
 
 Nothing had changed; the men still talked 
 excitedly, and on either side of the level space 
 where the horses were to run lay little heaps of 
 personal belongings that had been bet on this or 
 that horse saddles, blankets, gay bead-embroid- 
 ered moccasins, and belts, rifles, and cartridges. 
 
 As the boys drew near, old "Wolf Voice started 
 toward them w r ith greater speed than befitted a 
 chief of his dignity and years. 
 
 "You got white-faced horse?" he shouted as he 
 came near. "You run race? Me bet you now, me 
 beat you." The grave old buck was almost child- 
 ish at the prospect of racing a running horse. 
 
 Before answering, John looked over the horses 
 that were to compete, and then consulted with 
 his brother. "What do you think?" said he. 
 " Wolf Voice is crazy for a race, and I think 
 Baldy can beat anything here." 
 
 " But we haven't any money," said Ben. 
 
 "Me bet you pony, you bet um pony," said 
 the Indian, coming up at this instant and speak- 
 ing as if in answer to Ben's remark. 
 125
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 John would not put up Baldy as a stake for 
 anything in the world, but he took off his saddle. 
 " I'll bet saddle against your ponies/' he said, 
 pointing to two horses a boy was leading forward. 
 The old brave demanded more, so John added 
 bridle and silver-mounted bit to the pile ; still he 
 was not satisfied, but John refused to give any- 
 thing more. Wolf Voice haggled and demanded 
 larger stakes on the boy's part and finally pointed 
 to his spurs; these were unbuckled and thrown 
 on the ground, and at last the bargain was 
 completed. 
 
 At this juncture Big Hawk joined the 
 group. He was eager to bet against Baldy, but 
 all John's possessions were already pledged. It 
 was a trying situation for the boy, for he 
 wanted to get even with him, and he felt sure 
 that his horse would win. A happy thought 
 struck him. 
 
 " Say, Ben," he called out. " Lend me your 
 saddle to put up against Big Hawk's pony. I 
 haven't got anything left." The younger boy 
 was also eager to pay back the young brave for 
 his work at the buffalo hunt, so he complied with 
 this request unhesitatingly. 
 
 The wagers arranged, John looked to his horse. 
 Baldy was now without saddle or bridle, but his 
 owner speedily made a Jiackamore or halter out 
 126
 
 A CLOSE FINISH. 
 
 of a piece of rope and climbed on bis back; he 
 had decided to ride bare-back. 
 
 A number of braves were clearing the course 
 for the racers, who had already lined up at the 
 starting point, but old Wolf Voice rushed down 
 and asked them to wait a minute for the new 
 entry. In the meantime John was trotting up 
 and down, warming up his mount. In a few 
 minutes Baldy was in his place with the others. 
 The horses all knew what was to be done, but 
 Baldy did not become excited and tire himself 
 as did some of the others. 
 
 They all lined up a hundred feet from the 
 starting place. The course, which was merely 
 a level, grassy place, stretched out invitingly be- 
 fore them; the Indian spectators formed the 
 boundaries on either side, their usually impassive, 
 dark-red faces working with excitement. At a 
 word from the starter the horses went forward 
 at a trot, then changed to a lope, and were break- 
 ing into a run when, a few yards from the scratch, 
 the boy riding Wolf Voice's bay shot out of the 
 line and ahead. Of course they had to be called 
 back, and the boy was sharply reprimanded for 
 spoiling the start. 
 
 Then again the horses started and came down 
 to the scratch steadily. At the starter's yell of 
 approval, they sprang ahead with a dash. 
 127
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 After the jolting scramble of the start, John 
 began to plan his race. He pulled his horse out 
 of the bunch and ran on the outside. Baldy and 
 he were about the middle of the string as the fast 
 ones led away. The little bay, which was the 
 old chief's pride, led, running beautifully; at his 
 heels was a big gray, fully holding his own. The 
 distance of half a mile was more than half cov- 
 ered and both bay and gray were ahead of Baldy, 
 who was third and well in advance of the bunch. 
 The crowd was yelling wildly, each man shouting 
 encouragement to his favorite in a way that 
 would make an Eastern baseball " rooter " turn 
 pale with envy. 
 
 John lay down closer upon his horse's neck 
 and chirped gently in his ear. There was a per- 
 fect understanding between them, and the old 
 steed stretched out his neck a little more, laid his 
 ears hard against the side of his head, and set out 
 to overhaul the leaders, now running nose and 
 nose. Baldy's long stride told, and he gained 
 steadily, but the race was not yet over. If he 
 could get abreast of the two leaders John knew 
 that he could win out on a twenty-foot spurt if 
 need be he had done it before. 
 
 It was but fifty yards from the finish. The 
 two Indian ponies were tiring, but they kept up 
 the pace gamely. The crowd was,, yelling in- 
 128
 
 A CLOSE FINISH. 
 
 sanely, uttering threats, encouragements, en- 
 treaties in the Indian dialect, which neither 
 John nor Baldj understood; but just at the 
 critical moment a clear, shrill voice rose above 
 the din : " Now, Baldy, hit it up ! Get a move 
 on, John! " 
 
 Horse and rider braced. John set his lips 
 tighter: they were gaining, gaining perceptibly 
 each second. The two leaders were whipping 
 their ponies spasmodically, but John and Baldy 
 kept their heads. ISTow Baldy's nose was on a 
 line with the gray's hind quarter, now even with 
 his shoulder, and now all three horses were run- 
 ning as if harnessed in one team. And still he 
 gained. John was becoming excited and raised 
 his quirt. " Come, Baldy, do it! " he cried, and 
 at the same moment brought down the lash on 
 him. The game old horse responded magnifi- 
 cently. A few great jumps and they gained 
 three-quarters of a length. Another instant and 
 they dashed past the finish line. Baldy had won ! 
 
 John slipped from his back and patted his nose 
 affectionately. " Good work, old chap. I knew 
 you could leave that lot of cayuses behind." 
 
 " Hurrah for you, John ! " cried Ben as the 
 victors drew near. " Baldy, you're a trump, 
 sure enough." 
 
 The boys were soon the centre of a circle of 
 9 129
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 red faces, excited, threatening, joyful, or merely 
 interested, according to their bets. All were 
 anxious to race again, but John refused. Realiz- 
 ing that he and Ben would be expected home, he 
 broke through the ring, put his saddle and bridle 
 on one of the horses he had won from Wolf Voice, 
 mounted, and started off, leading the other two 
 and Baldy. Ben managed as best he could with 
 the mules, and so they returned to the mine, the 
 richer by three ponies, several trinkets, mocca- 
 sins, etc. It was not till a good deal later in life 
 that the boys learned how much better worth 
 while it is to race merely for the sake of the sport 
 itself, and what a surprising amount of trouble 
 a man can bring on himself and other people by 
 forming a habit of betting. At present they un- 
 thinkingly followed the examples of the rough 
 men around them. 
 
 In the year and a half that was spent at this 
 mine on the Yellowstone many opportunities 
 were offered for Baldy to show his speed, but the 
 redskins had learned caution and were never 
 again so reckless as on this memorable occasion. 
 
 The friendly feeling between the red and the 
 white boys grew as time went on, and many ex- 
 cursions were taken in company. The Indians 
 told John and Ben things about birds and beasts 
 of which they never dreamed, and showed them 
 
 130
 
 A CLOSE FINISH. 
 
 games that were a constant delight. They made 
 a kind of combination spear and skate from the 
 curved rib of a buffalo to the end of which were 
 fastened three feathers; the highly polished con- 
 vex surface offered little resistance to the ice, so 
 the whole could be thrown a long distance on the 
 glassy surface. The Worth boys grew to be very 
 expert throwers of this queer bone skate, and 
 many were the exciting matches they partici- 
 pated in. 
 
 Our boys in turn taught their coppery friends 
 some civilized games. Trials of strength and 
 skill were frequent, and in most of them the 
 honors were about even. While the red boys 
 could give points on the art of wrestling, and 
 never lost an opportunity to show their superior- 
 ity, the Worth youngsters got even by initiating 
 them in the " noble art of self-defence." John 
 put in practice the points given him by Tom 
 Malloy, much to the discomfiture of the Indian 
 boys and the corresponding satisfaction of his 
 teacher and the men of the mining camp. 
 
 The new sport did not become popular, how- 
 ever, in the redskins' camp ; John was too success- 
 ful his opponent was invariably worsted. 
 
 And so the days passed, with more work and 
 less play, perhaps, than most boys are accustomed 
 to. Many pleasant evenings, after the day's work 
 131
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 was done, were spent by the men telling yarns. 
 John and Ben slipped out often, joined the 
 group, and listened eagerly to the tales that were 
 told. It was on one of these nights that Charley 
 Green told a tale that entirely eclipsed Mun- 
 chausen; a tale that would never have occurred 
 to a Westerner. 
 
 "You know Big Hawk? " he began, looking 
 at the men around him and then out of the cor- 
 ner of his eye at John. " Well, Big Hawk has 
 seen the boys, and especially John, box, and made 
 up his mind that he could do something in that 
 line himself at least that is my idea of his 
 method of reasoning." He interrupted himself 
 to explain: "He challenged John something in 
 this fashion, ' You heap big fighter,' he said, ' me 
 show you.' ' 
 
 The men in the circle began to grin ; they were 
 beginning to take in the joke. John and his 
 brother gazed in amazement ; all this was new to 
 them. 
 
 " Though he is a pretty big chap," Green con- 
 tinued, "the kid didn't seem to be scared; he 
 knew how to put up his hands and the big red 
 duffer was entirely ignorant of fistic tactics. 
 Anyhow the boy called the bluff by responding, 
 1 Well, I don't know, I reckon I can do you up.' 
 Ben was sent for the gloves, those primitive, 
 132
 
 A CLOSE FINISH. 
 
 deerskin-stuffed-with-grass affairs. A space was 
 cleared on the dry grassy river bottom, and the 
 spectators marked the boundaries. The specta- 
 tors were mostly red," added Green. 
 
 " Produce a spectator," shouted a listener. 
 
 " Proof, proof, we want proof of this." 
 
 " I^ever mind him," exclaimed another; "go 
 on, Charley." 
 
 " I'm not making affidavits. I'm simply tell- 
 ing a story," Charley explained. " Big Hawk, 
 knowing it to be a kind of battle, had arrayed 
 himself in full war regalia, which consisted 
 chiefly of a big, feathered bonnet and a decora- 
 tive effect in yellow, red, and green paint." 
 
 The group of interested listeners chuckled, but 
 offered no remarks or objections. John and Ben 
 appeared to be dazed. 
 
 " Tom Malloy was the referee, and I acted as 
 John's second. Wolf Voice did the same service 
 for Big Hawk. 
 
 " When the two stepped into the ring," Green 
 continued, " the tall, paint-decorated, feather- 
 tufted Indian and the short, pink-skinned boy, a 
 smile appeared on the usually grave-faced red 
 men. I said to myself, Is this a Punch and Judy 
 show or a scene from the Inferno come to the 
 surface? f Time! ' sang out Tom Malloy, watch 
 in hand." 
 
 133
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 Green stopped to take breath, then continued : 
 
 " The two stepped to the centre, and the red 
 man decided to settle matters at once. A strong 
 right-arm jab followed. John dodged, and the 
 force of the blow nearly jerked the Indian off his 
 feet, and at the same time pulled the war bonnet 
 over his eyes. The boy took advantage of this 
 and thumped Big Hawk on the chest. The In- 
 dian cleared his eyes and came at him like a 
 wounded buffalo, head down, hands going like 
 flails; avoiding them, John hit out for the nose 
 JJ ~" B - and landed square on his beak. The buck 
 
 tripped and fell on his back and the blood began 
 to flow freely from the bruised member, min- 
 gling with the yellow and green paint, forming a 
 very weird design. It was enough, Big Hawk 
 was satisfied and hastened to get off the gloves 
 and bathe his nose at the river's edge." 
 
 From time to time during the recital of this 
 tale Green glanced at the boys to see the effect 
 of his absurd story. That they were greatly 
 amused was evident. Cries of "Come off!" 
 " What are you giving us?" and the like followed 
 the conclusion, and Charley Green subsided, 
 congratulating himself on his vivid imagination. 
 
 The feeling between the two camps, or rather 
 the younger members of them, was not always 
 friendly, and the boys were glad when their 
 134
 
 A CLOSE FINISH. 
 
 father came back after opening a new mine, told 
 them that he had bought a sheep ranch, and 
 asked them if they wanted to go to work on it. 
 The brothers accepted eagerly, for they were pos- 
 sessed with the restless spirit of the Westerner 
 and were anxious for new scenes and new ex- 
 periences. 
 
 Much had transpired during the long stay at 
 the Yellowstone mine. The railroad, with its 
 busy construction gang and its noisy, short- 
 breathed engine, had reached and passed the 
 little camp and had left behind its steel trail. 
 The tracks were not used for regular traffic as 
 yet, but the little dinky engine went by fre- 
 quently, dragging flat cars loaded with rails, ties, 
 and other construction material. The boys be- 
 came great friends of the engineer, and he al- 
 lowed them to ride with him in the cab of the 
 locomotive occasionally. 
 
 It was with real regret, therefore, that one 
 
 War-dance postures. 
 
 135
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 morning, as the iron horse stood near the mine, 
 hissing and grunting in impatience to be off, the 
 boys climbed up the step and into the cab to bid 
 their friend Mr. Jackson good-by. 
 
 " What! going to pull up stakes? " he inquired. 
 " I've got three boys about your size back in the 
 East at school, where you ought to be," he added. 
 
 " Well," John replied, " mother has talked 
 about school, but father says he's going to teach 
 us to work first." 
 
 " Father's great on work," interposed Ben. 
 
 In answer to Mr. Jackson's inquiry, John said 
 that they were to start in a day or two and would 
 go alone, driving a buckboard; and that though 
 they did not know the road the horses had been 
 over it, so with that aid and the description given 
 they would be able to find the way. 
 
 " Well, so long, boys," said the kindly engi- 
 neer, after they had shaken hands and thanked 
 him for the many engine rides, " I shall miss 
 
 you." 
 
 " Same here; so long! " called Ben and John 
 in chorus. 
 
 The little engine began to cough, the steam 
 puffed and hissed, and in a few minutes it was out 
 of sight around the turn. 
 
 A day or two later the boys climbed into the 
 buckboard, and, after bidding a matter-of-fact 
 136
 
 A CLOSE FINISH. 
 
 farewell to all, started off: on a journey to a place 
 neither of them had been to before, over a road 
 that was entirely unfamiliar to both. 
 
 With their father's last instructions ringing in 
 their ears, they set out at a good pace. 
 
 The hundred-and-fifty-mile drive lasted five 
 long, wearisome days. Day after day they trav- 
 elled, sitting still on the bouncing, rattling buck- 
 board. The white-topped wagons that came into 
 view occasionally were hailed with relief, for they 
 somewhat broke the monotony of the journey; 
 a word or two with these drivers and a question 
 as to the location of the best grass, wood, and 
 water camp necessaries was all that passed, 
 but even that was a comfort after the desolation 
 and loneliness through which they had been 
 passing. 
 
 On the fourth day the Big Horn River came 
 into view and was crossed in safety. The ap- 
 pearance of the country changed, and the boys 
 for the first time saw real mountains. Living, 
 as they had been, on the flat prairies, their sur- 
 prise was as great as their interest and delight at 
 these massive hills uprearing themselves against 
 the sky. The day following they drove up to 
 the door of the ranch house and were received 
 cordially by Abe Miller, the foreman in charge. 
 In obedience to their father's command they de- 
 137
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 livered a letter of instructions, and while Abe 
 was painfully studying this out, his hardened 
 forefinger pointing to each word as he went 
 along, the boys had ample time to observe him 
 as well as their new surroundings. They saw 
 that he was short and rather fat and blessed with 
 the face that is apt to go with that build: it was 
 decidedly cheerful, for the corners of his mouth 
 turned up; even now there was a half smile on 
 his lips, though his brow bore a perplexed frown 
 from his literary struggle. The ranch buildings, 
 which consisted of half a dozen rough sheds and 
 as many more corrals, beside the ranch house or 
 log shack, lay in a valley. On one side rose a 
 high range of mountains, wooded to the summit ; 
 on the other, a long, rolling, grass-covered plain. 
 
 " I don't see any sheep," said John, after scan- 
 ning the country in every direction. 
 
 Abe looked up, but held his stubby forefinger 
 pressed firmly on the last word he was decipher- 
 ing, as if to make sure of its safety. 
 
 " Oh, they're twenty-five miles down the creek 
 now," he answered. " We only keep them here 
 in the winter. "We'll go there to-morrow; it's 
 too late now." 
 
 By the time the ranchman had finished the let- 
 ter the sun was nearing the mountain crest and 
 the boys' appetites assured them it was time to 
 138
 
 A CLOSE FINISH. 
 
 eat. In the shack a low fire was burning, which 
 blazed cheerfully when John added an armful of 
 dry twigs and brush. While the boy was mend- 
 ing the fire, Abe went to one corner of the cabin 
 and from a tall pole which stood there let down 
 part of a sheep's quarter. 
 
 " Why do you keep it up there? " asked Ben, 
 who now noticed it for the first time. 
 
 " E"o flies up there," explained Abe. " Meat 
 keeps in this climate till it dries up if the flies 
 don't get at it." 
 
 The boys went out and sat on the door-step to 
 wait till the meal was cooked, for though they 
 were more tired than they realized, they had the 
 greatest curiosity to see everything connected 
 with this new home. 
 
 After sitting silent a while, their heads resting 
 on the door- jamb, their eyes on the crest of the 
 mountain where the sun shone with its last de- 
 parting glory, John turned toward his brother. 
 
 " Those mountains are* great. We didn't 
 have Say, Mr. Miller, what's this? " he asked 
 excitedly, interrupting himself and pointing, first 
 to some bullet-holes in the logs and then at a 
 blood stain on the block below. 
 
 139
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 A "BAD MAN'S" END. 
 
 " That's where Mexican Jack was killed," an- 
 swered Abe, coming in the doorway, frying pan 
 in hand. " He was shot just where you sit. I'll 
 tell you about it after supper." 
 
 John moved away from the spot. 
 
 Before long the ranchman called them in, and 
 they enjoyed a supper the like of which had not 
 fallen to their lot since they left the mine. The 
 compliment the boys paid Abe's cooking did 
 much to win his heart. Though they were 
 anxiously waiting to hear the story of the bullet 
 holes and the spot of blood, Abe continued to 
 talk about gravies, the advantages of a- very hot 
 pan in cooking, and other culinary topics that 
 would have interested John at another time, for 
 he rather prided himself on his ability as cook, 
 but which now seemed more than trivial. 
 140
 
 A "SAD MAN' 8" END. 
 
 The boys lent a hand, and soon the tins were 
 washed and the heavy deal table cleared. The 
 fire replenished, and Abe's pipe fairly started, all 
 three drew their stools up to the blaze. 
 
 " Well, how about Mexican Jack ? " ventured 
 Ben at last, unable to restrain his curiosity 
 longer. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I was going to tell you about that, 
 wasn't I? Well, he was a hard case," continued 
 the speaker. " Half Mexican, half white man 
 and all bad, he was. I made his acquaintance 
 about ten years ago at Boise City, and the first 
 thing I heard of him was that he'd just killed a 
 gambler gambler was a hard case, so nobody 
 cared much and Jack skipped. Shortly after 
 that he went to Denver and bullied the town. 
 Oh, he was a regular ' bad man.' You know 
 what a ' bad man ' is, don't you? " 
 
 " Sure," said John. " Tough customer who 
 knows he's tough and takes pride in it. They're 
 always mighty quick with their guns, and dead 
 shots. One of 'em shot a man in the arm, near 
 our shack back in Bismarck, and mother tied it 
 up. It was queer ; the bullet went right through 
 and it looked like a rose where it came out." 
 
 " Well," continued Abe, " Jack was a ' bad 
 man,' and he didn't care who knew it. He had 
 a shooting scrape in Denver and had to jump the 
 141
 
 CATTLE IIANCU TO COLLEGE. 
 
 town in pretty lively style. The sheriff's posse 
 got after him, but he killed two of 'em and got 
 off. After that every sheriff in the country was 
 looking for him, so he turned outlaw and road 
 agent near Virginia City, and held up Ben Halli- 
 day's stages till the vigilance committee hung 
 some of his partners and got too hot on his trail. 
 2^Tot a thing more did I hear of him till he turned 
 up about two years ago with this bunch of sheep 
 of your father's. He had turned herder and 
 driven 'em all the way in from Utah." Miller 
 stopped to relight his pipe, for he had forgotten 
 to keep it going in the interest of his tale. The 
 boys were impatient at the least delay; the ruddy 
 firelight lit up their faces and showed their eager 
 interest. 
 
 " Your father had bought this ranch and put 
 me in charge just a little while before Mexican 
 Jack came along; I spotted him at once and he 
 spotted me, but I didn't let on, for I knew he was 
 all-fired quick with his gun and I wasn't looking 
 for trouble. Of course he never went to town: 
 it wasn't healthy for him there ; and if he wanted 
 anything he had to wait till somebody who was 
 going in would get it for him. Even with such 
 care, though, he knew it wasn't safe for him to 
 stay in one place very long, so one day in spring 
 he told me he was going to quit and move on. 
 142
 
 A "BAD MAN'S" END. 
 
 Don't you boys ever turn ' bad men/ " said Abe, 
 with a laugh ; " it don't pay. Brave as that poor 
 chap was, he was fairly afraid of his shadow 
 when he got to thinking of sheriffs' posses. One 
 man isn't much good against the law, even out 
 here. "Well," he went on, " I went to town to 
 get another man it's thirty miles, so I stayed 
 over night. Charley Boyd, who runs a liquor 
 joint there, told me a young feller, an English- 
 man, he thought, had been in there several times 
 asking about sheep. Charley said there might 
 be some business in it, so I dropped in later. 
 
 " Boyd went up to a young chap who was sit- 
 ting watching a faro game. ' Here's your man, 
 Mr. Simmons,' said he. The stranger wanted 
 to know all about the different bunches of sheep 
 near there, so I told him and talked a good deal 
 about one thing or another having to do with 
 them. I remember I told him I was looking for 
 a herder to take the place of a Mexican that was 
 going to quit. Soon after that he left. I could 
 not quite make him out, but it was plain enough 
 he wasn't buying." 
 
 " "What's all this got to do with Mexican 
 Jack? " inquired Ben, who didn't see the drift of 
 the narrative. 
 
 " If you wait a minute, I'll tell you." Abe 
 was vexed at the thoughtless interruption, and 
 143
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 Ben subsided, realizing that he had been rather 
 foolish. " In the morning I packed my stuff on 
 the led horse, mounted my own cayuse, and 
 started out. I had just topped the rise near the 
 shack when a bullet went by with a hum, and 
 then another and another, so I chased back for 
 cover to the other side. I dismounted, crawled 
 up to the top, and looked over. There at the 
 door sat Mexican Jack, six-shooter in hand. I 
 couldn't understand why in the world he should 
 shoot at me, so I rode over to look up Billy, the 
 other herder, and find out what was up. He 
 hadn't been to the shack since morning and knew 
 nothing about it, so he left the sheep and we went 
 down the coulie, which runs just below here, 
 you know, till we got behind that clump of brush 
 perhaps you saw it. We peeked through pretty 
 cautious, I can tell you. The Mexican was still 
 there, but his body was all hunched up; he 
 seemed drunk or asleep, for his six-shooter lay on 
 the ground by his side. 
 
 " We covered him with our guns, for he was 
 chained lightning with his shooting irons, and 
 then yelled at him. He didn't answer or move 
 an inch. We jumped out then, still keeping him 
 covered, and walked slowly up, ready to riddle 
 him if he should make a move with that deadly 
 pistol hand of his. Once he quivered a bit and 
 144
 
 A "BAD MAN'S" END. 
 
 his right hand stirred toward his gun. I almost 
 plunked him then, I was so nervous, but there 
 was no other sign of wakefulness or life. We 
 decided he must have gotten hold of some liquor 
 somewhere, but when we got within about fifty 
 feet of him Billy noticed a pool of blood at 
 his side. Then we rushed forward guns still 
 ready, however and just as we reached the steps 
 he lurched forward and fell full on his face 
 dead! 
 
 " A couple of bullets had gone clean through 
 him. We found out when we turned his body 
 over to the authorities in town that Simmons, the 
 young Englishman I had met, had come over to 
 America a year before expressly to kill Mexican 
 Jack, who had shot his brother in some quarrel. 
 I had supplied the missing link of information, 
 and he had gone early in the morning to our 
 shack, where he had shot the Mexican twice. 
 Jack evidently thought I had given him away 
 purposely and tried to settle me." 
 
 " My! what a fiend," said John. " But what 
 became of Simmons? " 
 
 " Oh, he went back to town and gave himself 
 up, was tried, and acquitted ; for no jury out here 
 would convict such a man for shooting a bad 
 lot like Mexican Jack." 
 
 " I should think you'd be glad to get rid of 
 10 145
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 him," exclaimed both, boys in chorus. " Weren't 
 you afraid to have him round so long? " 
 
 " Oh, no; he wouldn't trouble me, I guess, as 
 long as I let him alone; he was a blamed good 
 herder, and it was worth while to keep on the 
 right side of him. ISTow, you boys want to tumble 
 in, for we'll be going out right early in the morn- 
 ing to the range." 
 
 The twenty-five-mile trip next day to the 
 range where the sheep were grazing was made 
 without incident, but the country was all new to 
 the boys and they plied their guide with ques- 
 tions. They learned that Abe Miller was to stay 
 with them on the range and teach them their 
 duties, another man taking charge at the ranch 
 house during his absence. 
 
 It was expected that Mr. and Mrs. Worth 
 would move to the new mine (about fifteen miles 
 from the ranch house) in a couple of months. 
 
 Their education as herders completed, the boys 
 would be given sole charge of a large bunch of 
 several thousand sheep. A kind of shed, open in 
 front and built of round, chinked logs, entirely 
 lacking in comforts of every kind, was to be their 
 home. Polly, Dick, and Pete, the three sheep 
 dogs, and the great flock of woolly animals would 
 then be their only companions. 
 
 Abe initiated them at once into the routine of 
 146
 
 A "BAD MAN'S" END. 
 
 their new occupation and introduced them to 
 " Polly " and her two sons, Dick and Pete, the 
 ever-vigilant, intelligent dogs who were to be 
 their capable assistants. 
 
 It was hardly the work that an enterprising, 
 wide-awake, active person, young or old, would 
 choose. Untiring vigilance was the one thing 
 necessary. Watchfulness never ceasing, day and 
 night, rain and shine, was the chief occupation 
 of the sheep herder. Polly, the dog, was a much 
 better herder than her young masters at first, and 
 Dick and Pete were not far behind. They 
 moved the " bunch " to fresh feeding grounds 
 at the command, and fully understood the wig- 
 wag code of the plains. When driving at a dis- 
 tance from camp Polly would trot to a hill top 
 and watch for the boys' signal: if John waved 
 horizontally she would drive them farther, Dick 
 and Pete assisting; when the bunch had been 
 driven far enough John's hat would be flapped 
 up and down, and the dogs, with almost human 
 intelligence, would at once stop their charges. 
 
 The attacks of coyotes, wolves, and, more 
 rarely, mountain lions were the greatest danger 
 to the sheep that the young shepherds had to 
 guard against. Some of these four-footed ene- 
 mies were almost always prowling about, looking 
 hungrily for a chance at a stray sheep or lamb. 
 147 
 
 */&, 
 
 $ 
 
 # J*r< 
 
 X. 
 
 *R\ 
 ^ ^Eyo
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 A coyote or wolf among an unprotected flock will 
 destroy a surprising number of sheep in a few 
 minutes, seemingly for the pure love of killing, 
 so there was good reason for the sharpest kind of 
 lookout. 
 
 After the novelty of the life wore off, the boys 
 began to wish themselves back at the mine. For 
 weeks at a time they did not see another human 
 being. Each day was like every other day; in 
 the morning the rope corral enclosing the flock 
 was let down, and the sheep were driven by the 
 dogs to a place where the feed was good; then the 
 boys mounted their horses and followed to the 
 grazing ground. During the two mid hours of 
 ij the day the animals rested, lying down quietly, 
 and the brothers would take advantage of this 
 time to get in as much sport as the spot afforded. 
 Rifles were always slung on the saddle, and the 
 slinking coyotes gave plenty of opportunity to 
 show good marksmanship. Occasionally the 
 curiously marked antelope appeared, looking, as 
 Charley Green once said, " as if some one had 
 started to paint the whole lot tan but had got 
 tired of the job and left patches of white at odd 
 places " ; then the young hunters would set out, 
 and in the excitement of a hunt forget for a time 
 the monotony of the life. Seldom was it safe for 
 both to go at once; only at noon, when the sheep 
 148
 
 A "BAD MAN'S" END. 
 
 were lying down in open, level country, could 
 the dogs be left wholly in charge. 
 
 Towards evening the bunch must be corraled 
 for the night a difficult task if there are many 
 lambs in the flock. The boys found, often to 
 their disgust, that a lamb can run like a deer 
 when it gets thoroughly frightened. It was 
 shortly after Abe had left them that, in accord- 
 ance with his teaching, they began to " round 
 up " the flock preparatory to stretching the rope' 
 corral. Ben was on one side with Polly and 
 Dick, John on the other with Pete ; all was going 
 well, and John and Pete, neither very experi- 
 enced in the business in hand, began to feel the 
 pride that goeth before a fall. Suddenly the 
 sheep fifty yards from where John stood began 
 to scatter. Pete was sent forthwith to force them 
 back, and while he was busy there a lamb, long 
 and clumsy of leg, apparently not strong enough 
 to stand alone, started out on a voyage of discov- 
 ery not ten yards from the boy. It would not do 
 to let it stray far, for a coyote would make short 
 work of it, so John sped off in pursuit. 
 
 As he drew near the little woolly thing it in- 
 creased its speed, running as you would imagine 
 a rickety table would run, but it kept going faster 
 and faster. John, who unfortunately was on 
 foot, found to his mortification that he could not 
 149
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 overtake it. It looked as if he would have to 
 give up the chase. At last, however, he tried 
 gradually turning to one side and heading it back 
 to the bunch; even then it might have got away if 
 Polly, taking in the situation, had not flown to 
 the rescue. John came back panting, hot, and 
 tired, only to find Ben sitting calmly in his saddle 
 with a broad grin on his countenance. Even the 
 dogs seemed to be laughing, their open mouths 
 and lolling tongues giving their faces a look of 
 keen enjoyment over his discomfiture. 
 
 Even after the flock was safely corralled it 
 required almost as much watching as if in the 
 open. The boys usually took turns, each watch- 
 ing half the night. A fire was built on one side 
 of the enclosure, and the watcher lay on the 
 other. The sheep, probably the most helpless 
 animals one could find, lay right up against each 
 other, their closely packed bodies looking at 
 night like a patch of snow. 
 
 As the young herder fought with himself to 
 keep awake, the howl of a coyote often broke the 
 stillness ; then he must start up, gun in hand, and 
 make a round of the flock. From time to time he 
 replenished the fire and made a careful scrutiny 
 of the country round in search of the lurking 
 enemies of his charges. Till he woke his brother 
 about midnight there was hardly a minute's rest. 
 150
 
 A "BAD MAN 1 8" END. 
 
 Then Ben took up the vigil, while John slept till 
 daylight; and so began another weary day exactly 
 like the preceding one. 
 
 While in summer sheep are docile and amia- 
 ble, though never so interesting as are cattle, 
 horses, or mules, in winter they become stupid, 
 intractable, and aggravating to the herder. It 
 was in the winter that the boys' greatest hard- 
 ships were encountered, for they found it neces- 
 sary more than once literally to carry some of 
 the flock through snow drifts to the ranch. 
 They would not be driven or led, but when a 
 trail had been made, and a number carried and 
 forced along it, the remainder would pluck up 
 courage to follow through the bank of snow. 
 
 The boys spent all one summer and winter 
 with the sheep. From time to time Mr. Worth, 
 who had moved his entire outfit over to the new 
 mine, came out to the range to inspect the ani- 
 mals; and towards the end of the year the boys 
 each time besought their father to let them go 
 back with him. For the first time they realized 
 the meaning of an expression they had often 
 heard: " as crazy as a sheep herder." The shep- 
 herd's life in the far West is as uninteresting, am- 
 bitionless, and lonely an existence as falls to the 
 lot of man. For long periods of time a shepherd 
 is so entirely alone with his flock and his dogs 
 151
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 that the experience not infrequently costs him 
 his reason. It was a terribly lonely life for 
 youngsters such as they; though each was com- 
 pany for the other, they both longed to hear 
 the home sounds and see the familiar faces. Mr. 
 Worth, however, would not consent to their re- 
 turn till the year was up. He felt that the dis- 
 cipline was good for them, and besides he was 
 never willing to have them let go of anything 
 without finishing it. 
 
 The new mine was the most important and 
 largest that had been opened. It was situated 
 on the line of the railroad that had just been con- 
 structed, and was of a more permanent character 
 than the preceding ones. Many of the miners 
 brought their wives and families with them, so 
 that they formed quite a settlement. Occasion- 
 ally the miners' sons would ride out to visit the 
 Worth boys, who were delighted to see them, 
 though there was little in common between them. 
 The miners were Easterners, as a rule, and knew 
 nothing of horsemanship, hunting, or plains- 
 craft; but they were boys and were gladly re- 
 ceived as such. They regaled John and Ben 
 with accounts of the happenings at the mine, but 
 while they listened eagerly, this only added to 
 their impatience to return and made them more 
 discontented with their present life. 
 152
 
 A "BAD MAN'S" END. 
 
 When the snow began to melt and the grass to 
 grow green again, the brothers occupied most of 
 their time in thinking what they would do when 
 they got back to civilization, for the time of their 
 release was drawing near. 
 
 " I'd go crazy if I had to stay here with these 
 woolly idiots another year," said John one day. 
 
 " Yes," returned Ben, " it's about as tame as 
 anything could be. But what are we going to 
 do when we get back-? You can bet your bottom 
 dollar father won't let us sit round and enjoy the 
 view." 
 
 " I suppose we'll have to get to work at some- 
 thing." John stroked Polly's head reflectively 
 as he spoke, and the good dog, undemonstrative 
 always, showed her pleasure only by the slow 
 wagging of her bushy tail. 
 
 " But what? " It was Ben who spoke. " I'll 
 be switched if I want to go to coal mining, and I 
 guess you don't care about it either." 
 
 " That's right," replied John, laconically. 
 " I've had enough of mining to last me a life- 
 time." He shivered a little at the remembrance 
 of his experience. 
 
 For a time both were silent; each was trying 
 
 to think of something he might turn his hand to 
 
 that would suit his father and at the same time 
 
 please himself. It was not an altogether cheer- 
 
 153
 
 CATTLE RANCU TO COLLEGE. 
 
 ful prospect that lay before them. They would 
 soon change the solitude for their bustling, busy 
 home. It was home, and that was good to think 
 of. Yet it was a home where a boy's love of fun 
 and his healthy animal spirits were not consid- 
 ered: his capacity for work was what counted. 
 A home where uncongenial, hard labor awaited 
 them unless they could think of some other occu- 
 pation that would satisfy their stern, just, abso- 
 lutely honest but unyielding father. 
 
 "Well? "said Ben at last. 
 
 " Well ! " returned John in much the same 
 tone, "there is one thing we might do perhaps." 
 
 " Well? " said Ben again, eagerly. 
 
 "You remember when young Watson was over 
 here the other night," John began. " He said 
 that a mail route was to be run from Ragged 
 Edge Camp to the railroad, through the pass in 
 the mountain ' 
 
 " Yes, and he had the job. That shuts us out, 
 doesn't it? " 
 
 " Wait a minute ! " exclaimed John, impa- 
 tiently. " He's a tenderfoot, and he'll never in 
 the world be able to make that trip on time, in 
 winter he'll never be able to make it at all. 
 You'll see that after he has been late a few times 
 we'll have a chance. Then I intend to apply for 
 the job. See?" 
 
 154
 
 A "BAD MAN'S" END. 
 
 John was the more aggressive, the stronger of 
 the two, both in mind and body. The younger 
 brother had learned to lean on his more inde- 
 pendent spirit, so it was John who always had 
 the deciding voice when there was a doubtful 
 plan. Ben's yielding disposition enabled him to 
 get along more comfortably with every one, and 
 especially with the supreme authority in the 
 household. 
 
 The Worth boys soon learned from their occa- 
 sional visitors that they would be expected to 
 show their prowess as boxers and wrestlers on 
 their arrival in camp, so they determined to prac- 
 tise up. Every day at noon, when the sheep lay 
 down, the two went at each other, good hu- 
 moredly but with seriousness, advising one an- 
 other when a mistake was made. Every blow, 
 every trick, that Tom Malloy had taught John 
 they tried till they knew it perfectly. Every 
 feint, every fall, that the Indians practised they 
 perfected, till by the time their term with the 
 sheep was up their bodies were as supple and 
 their muscles as strong as constant exercise and 
 clean, healthy living in the open air could make 
 them. 
 
 At last the new men arrived, the boys turned 
 over the sheep to them, and promptly saddled up 
 for their ride across the mountains. They were 
 155
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 glad to get away from the ranch, but when they 
 reviewed the passed long months and realized 
 that they had not flinched, they experienced 
 that peculiar pleasure that comes from carrying 
 through a hard job. 
 
 156
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 BATTLE ROYAL. 
 
 Mr. Worth had built for himself a plank house 
 with shingled roof the first real house the boys 
 had entered since they left Bismarck. 
 
 Their father was away when they arrived, to 
 be gone for some weeks, so the boys had a chance 
 to have some of the fun they had longed for. 
 They expected to have great sport with the 
 miners' sons, but were keenly disappointed to 
 find that their tastes were utterly different. The 0^"** 
 latter were as a rule Eastern boys, and were , 
 versed in civilized amusements: baseball, mar- 
 bles, tops, and all the games of skill and strength 
 dear to the town dwellers. Of all these our boys . 
 knew nothing; their amusements were akin to 
 their work to ride well and shoot straight was a 
 matter of business as well as pleasure for them. 
 And so the Worth boys and those of the camp 
 stood aloof from one another, and John and Ben 
 were soon almost as unhappy as they had been 
 on the sheep range. 
 
 157
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 They still hoped to have an opportunity to 
 show their skill as wrestlers and fighters in the 
 emphatic way that was the custom in that day 
 and place, but for a long time the camp boys 
 gave them no provocation. As time went on, 
 however, the mining boys grew overbearing and 
 insulting and never lost an opportunity to taunt 
 and aggravate the young Westerners. 
 
 " I'm going to lick that Jake Adams within an 
 inch of his life," said John, wrathfully, one day 
 to his brother. " He's the worst one of the lot." 
 
 " All right," said Ben. " I'm with you." 
 
 Pretty soon an opportunity came, and John 
 challenged Jake to fight. He accepted at once. A 
 ring was formed on the outskirts of the camp by 
 the boys and some of the men who guaranteed 
 fair play. The contest that followed was short, 
 sharp, and decisive. John kept his head and 
 made every blow tell, while Jake in his anger 
 forgot all he knew and defended himself so 
 poorly that his opponent soon satisfied him he 
 was the better man. 
 
 After this such contests, generally not quite 
 so earnest, were frequent. From most of them 
 John came out victorious, and for a time the 
 others ceased to taunt the Worth boys. But the 
 feeling was far from being as friendly as it ought 
 to have been between the two factions. Even 
 158
 
 MR. WORTH HAD BUILT FOR HIMSELF A NEW HOUSE. (Page 157.) 
 
 THE SHEEP RANCH HOUSE. (Page 137.)
 
 BATTLE ROYAL. 
 
 the settlement of the arguments in so thorough a 
 manner failed to clear the air entirely. 
 
 The miners admired pluck and skill, and John 
 had many friends among them. His father, too, 
 did not disapprove, for he also admired one who 
 could give and take hard knocks. His approval 
 was never outspoken, however; on the contrary 
 he made John's bruises the subject of his chaff- 
 ing. To John who, in spite of his apparent in- 
 difference, was very, sensitive and craved sym- 
 pathy this was almost unbearable. 
 
 As John predicted, young Watson failed to 
 get the mails in on time. John at once offered 
 to undertake the job, and after some questioning 
 the authorities decided he was capable of accom- 
 plishing it. Here was something he could do 
 that would test his intelligence, his strength, and 
 his courage. It was work and amusement at the 
 same time, and he accepted it gladly. 
 
 Ragged Edge had sprung up in a gulch four- 
 teen miles from the coal camp. It was a new 
 camp of the mushroom variety, called suddenly 
 into being by the discovery of some gold-bearing 
 gravel in the creek there. Deep snows on the 
 range nearly cut off communication with the 
 outer world for three months in the year. By 
 following the high, wind-swept ridge, the moun- 
 tain could be crossed by a venturesome horseman 
 159
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 till winter came on and the snows grew too deep, 
 when snowshoes must be resorted to. Even late 
 in the summer snowshoes were necessary to 
 travel over the soft masses of the snow which 
 always crowned the summit. 
 
 When John presented himself as a candidate 
 for mail rider, Burns, the boss at Ragged Edge, 
 looked at him in good-natured amusement. 
 " Well, kid, if you think you can do it, go ahead 
 and try. But it means work and p'raps danger." 
 John told of his snowshoeing experiences in 
 Dakota modestly but straightforwardly, and 
 satisfied him by his resolute mien that he had the 
 pluck to do it if any one could. 
 
 The boy spent several days in going over the 
 ground, noting the best line to follow and making 
 sure of his landmarks before the snow T s should 
 cover up everything. He found at the top of 
 the pass an old, abandoned cabin and marked its 
 location in his mind in case of future necessity. 
 This bit of precaution served him well before the 
 winter was over. 
 
 " You had better get a good strong horse," said 
 Mr. Worth, as John was mounting Baldy for 
 the trips had already begun. " Baldy's too old. 
 You'll need a good young horse." 
 
 John said nothing for a minute, but patted his 
 steed as if to express his confidence in him. 
 160
 
 BATTLE UOTAL. 
 
 " Oh, no, sir. Baldy knows me and I know 
 Baldy, and I think I can get along better with 
 him than I could with any other horse," he said, 
 rather anxiously, for he was afraid that his com- 
 panion would be denied him. " Besides," he 
 continued, " Baldy can smell a trail through two 
 feet of snow, and isn't he in good condition? 
 You can't see a rib." 
 
 "All right," returned his father. "He's 
 yours, and the job's yours. Go ahead and work 
 it out the way you think best." 
 
 So boy and horse encountered the perils of the 
 mountain pass together, friends always, but now 
 sole companions. 
 
 While there was no sign of snow in the valleys, 
 it was falling steadily in the mountains. John 
 did not carry out his first plan of tethering Baldy 
 at the snow line on the mine side of the moun- 
 tains and covering the rest of the distance on 
 snowshoes. He found that by following the 
 bare ridges he could go the whole distance on 
 horseback. His route was changed almost every 
 day, for the wind formed drifts in different places 
 and blocked the old way ten feet deep over night. 
 In certain places cuts in the ridge would become 
 filled with snow, and through this horse and rider 
 had to flounder till a hard trail had been packed. 
 It was in such spots that Baldy's cleverness mani- 
 11 161
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 fested itself; he rarely missed the narrow, packed 
 path, though it might be buried two feet or more. 
 An incautious step to one side was sure to cause 
 both horse and rider to disappear in the soft mass. 
 
 " Well, I must say you have done pretty well 
 so far," said Burns one day, as John dismounted 
 and handed him the packet of mail. 
 
 "Yes; haven't missed a trip," he answered 
 rather proudly. " Don't know if I'd have made 
 such a good record if I hadn't the best snow horse 
 going though. Been snowshoeing it two weeks 
 ago if it wasn't for Baldy." He stopped to stroke 
 the animal's nose affectionately. " I vowed this 
 should be his last trip, it's getting harder and 
 harder; but he's such good company I hate to 
 give him up." 
 
 I^ext morning, as Burns handed out the return 
 mail, he warned the boy that bad weather was 
 coming, and suggested that he leave the horse 
 behind, for he would be more of a hindrance 
 than a help. " Those black clouds mean that 
 we're in for a big storm," he said, " and I tell you 
 that you and your horse had better stay here. I 
 can't boss you, kid, but I advise you not to fool 
 with that storm it's coming sure and you don't 
 know what it means up here." In spite of this 
 John decided to go on Baldy, for he wished to 
 leave him safe at his father's camp. 
 162
 
 BATTLE ROYAL. 
 
 The hard travelling had begun to tell on the 
 sturdy little horse; his body was not so round as 
 formerly, nor his step so springy, but he carried 
 his young rider well for all that and was as know- 
 ing and careful as ever. 
 
 John tucked the package of precious letters in 
 his saddle-bag, and after calling out a good-by to 
 Burns he set out. He had barely reached high 
 ground when snow began to fall heavily and with 
 it came a blustering, roaring wind that buffeted 
 the travellers roundly. The horse slackened his 
 speed, and, by signs that John knew well, advised 
 retreat. The boy urged him forward, however, 
 saying aloud for he always felt as if Baldy 
 could understand everything he told him " No, 
 old man, if we go back now you'll have to 
 winter in the Ragged Edge gulch and you'll 
 die sure. We can make it all right." The 
 good beast seemed to acquiesce in his master's 
 judgment, for he went along without further 
 hesitation. The trail now was covered almost 
 knee deep, and the blinding mist and whirling 
 flakes blotted out nearly all landmarks. They 
 pushed forward, at one moment right in the 
 teeth of the blast, at the next turning a sharp 
 corner and running before it, heads down, eyes 
 almost closed, the rider depending on the keen 
 senses of his steed to find the way. 
 163
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 At length Baldy stopped, and John felt, with 
 a thrill of real alarm, that he had lost the trail. 
 To go forward seemed impossible, to go back al- 
 most as bad. To and fro they went, in vain ef- 
 forts to find the way. Baldy still floundered 
 along, his hoofs covered with gunny sacks to pre- 
 vent their sharp edges from cutting through the 
 crust ; but his sides began to heave and his legs to 
 shake under him, for the exertion of breaking 
 through the drifts from one wind-swept ridge to 
 another was most exhausting. John could stand 
 it no longer; he slipped off his back and caught 
 his head in both arms : " Why did I bring you out 
 here?" he said, in bitter self-reproach. It was 
 evident that if he did not find shelter soon his 
 old friend would freeze to death. 
 
 There was one chance for himself: he was light 
 and might be able to make his way over the snow 
 to Ragged Edge Camp, perhaps ; but what would 
 then become of his faithful friend? Could he 
 leave him to such a fate after he had so spent 
 himself for his master's sake ? Baldy stood knee 
 deep in the cruel, treacherous, white snow, his 
 head down, quick, spasmodic puffs coming from 
 his nostrils, his body steaming, and his flanks all 
 in a tremble. There was only one chance for the 
 lives of both. John remembered the abandoned 
 hut at the top of the pass if they could possibly 
 164
 
 BATTLE ROYAL. 
 
 reach that, they might be able to weather the 
 storm together. He determined to try. Fas- 
 tening Baldy's bridle rein to his fore leg, so 
 that he could not follow, and giving him an af- 
 fectionate pat on the nose, he started off, his teeth 
 set determinedly. A few yards away the driv- 
 ing snow shut Baldy off from his sight entirely, 
 but a gentle whinny reached him and brought a 
 lump into his throat. 
 
 " That's all right, old boy," he called aloud; 
 " I'm not going to leave you. I'll be back." 
 He turned in the direction he thought the cabin 
 should be and fought his way on. The wind 
 seemed like a howling fiend; it tore at his cloth- 
 ing, blew the particles of snow into his eyes, and 
 raised such a veil of mist and frost that he could 
 not see ten yards ahead of him. On the high, 
 bare ridges the blast nearly took him off his feet 
 and in the hollows the snow banks engulfed him. 
 Still he struggled on, straining his eyes forward 
 into the gray chaos that confronted him, deter- 
 mined to find the shelter. A vision of Baldy 
 standing dejectedly alone, his rough brown coat 
 turned white by the sleet, his faithful old eyes 
 half closed, drove the boy on irresistibly, for, 
 next to his brother, he loved his horse better than 
 anything else in the world. 
 
 He ploughed through drift after drift, follow- 
 165
 
 CATTLE BANCS TO COLLEGE. 
 
 ing one ridge, for only by keeping one such land- 
 mark in sight was it possible to go in any given 
 direction. Would that haven of rest ever come 
 into view? Even his stout heart began to de- 
 spair; he was weary, his body bathed in sweat, 
 yet his face, feet, and hands numb with cold ; the 
 elements seemed to conspire against him. He 
 was only a boy, and it seemed hard that he should 
 give up his life. He stood still and looked drear- 
 ily down the hillside. Nothing, nothing but the 
 deadly snow. He began to wonder if it was 
 worth while to fight against such odds any longer. 
 
 And then in this abjectness he suddenly gave 
 a cry of delight. For the wind rent the snow 
 apart for an instant and he caught a glimpse 
 through the driving flakes of a dead tree and near 
 it a peculiarly shaped, great gray rock. They 
 seemed positively human, like old friends, for the 
 shelter he sought stood just to the left of them. 
 
 He began at once to look for a place where 
 Baldy might be led down in safety. This was 
 
 166
 
 BATTLE ROYAL. 
 
 impossible where he stood it was far too steep 
 and rocky. A detour made with infinite pains 
 and exertion brought him to the cabin by a path 
 that he thought the sure-footed beast might 
 follow. 
 
 How John found his way to the half-frozen 
 beast and then slowly got him back to the cabin 
 he never knew. Only his indomitable pluck and 
 his training pulled him through. But at last the 
 terrible journey was safely accomplished, and 
 boy and steed stood before the low door. 
 
 John took off the saddle, and the intelligent 
 animal, bending his knees a little, squeezed 
 through. The boy followed, throwing the sad- 
 dle blanket over the horse's shivering flanks and 
 wondering if they were safe, even now. At best 
 it was a poor shelter; the wind blew the sharp, 
 powdery snow through the chinks in the logs and 
 kept the temperature almost as low within as 
 without, but at least there was a roof and a wind 
 break. 
 
 After a short rest, John scrambled up the slope 
 to the dead tree and broke off some branches. 
 The wood was still dry, except on the very out- 
 side, and made good kindling. Soon a fire was 
 blazing, and boy and beast absorbed the heat 
 gratefully. Only those who have suffered great 
 and deadly cold can realize the delight of sitting 
 167
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 before a blaze once more. The very sight of the 
 flames puts life into the veins and makes a mere 
 nightmare of what was just now a grim and awful 
 reality. 
 
 Thoroughly warmed, and with new courage 
 and strength, John went outside again and began 
 to stop up the chinks with snow and to scrape 
 banks of it up against the walls. The heat from 
 within melted the inner surface, which after- 
 wards froze and prevented the wind from blow- 
 ing it away. 
 
 All day John was kept busy gathering wood 
 and patching the walls. By nightfall a good 
 supply of fuel had been collected and the little 
 cabin was by comparison c.omfortable. There 
 was little sleep for the boy that night, however. 
 The fury of the storm did not abate; the wind 
 howled round their little refuge, shaking it so it 
 seemed as if it would be impossible for it to with- 
 stand the blast. 
 
 All night long he listened to the roaring of the 
 wind, taking " cat naps " during the short lulls 
 that came at intervals. The fire required con- 
 stant replenishment, and Baldy, unaccustomed 
 to confinement in such a small space, was so rest- 
 less that continual watchfulness was necessary to 
 keep from under his feet, though the good horse 
 would never have harmed his young master ex- 
 168
 
 BATTLE ROYAL. 
 
 cept by accident. Both boy and beast began also 
 to suffer greatly from hunger. 
 
 At dawn the gale subsided somewhat, and 
 John realized that he must get food at once if 
 his life and that of his horse were to be saved. 
 Breaking through the snow bank which had piled 
 up against the rude door, he made his way to a 
 creek half a mile down the mountain and cut 
 with his knife an armful of poplar saplings and 
 carried them back to the hut. Baldy tore off 
 the bark from these and munched it contentedly; 
 another armful was added to the store, and then 
 John bade his equine friend good-by and started 
 off to find food and shelter for himself. 
 
 The six miles that separated the lonely cabin 
 from the mining camp were the longest and most 
 trying that John had ever travelled, he thought. 
 Great drifts barred his way, the wind, still strong, 
 blew in his face and seemed bent on his destruc- 
 tion, his empty stomach weakened him, and lack 
 of sleep undermined his resolution. 
 
 From dawn till noon day he battled with the 
 snow, and when at last he reached his father's 
 house he was hardly able to answer the questions 
 which his overjoyed family put to him. 
 
 A man was sent back to look after Baldy. He 
 found that good horse chewing poplar bark as 
 calmly as if he was in his own stable, though the
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 cabin was so small and the horse so large in com- 
 parison that it appeared to be resting on his back, 
 like the howdah on an elephant. For several 
 days Baldy was kept in the cabin and fed on hay, 
 which had to be carried to him on foot; then, 
 after considerable trouble, for a trail had to be 
 stamped down much of the way, he was led back 
 in triumph to the camp, where John, rather weak 
 in the knees, greeted him joyfully. 
 
 For a week Ragged Edge Camp did not receive 
 any mail. Late one afternoon John appeared on 
 snowshoes, bearing the precious packet. He 
 had to repeat his story many times, and Burns 
 had the satisfaction of qualifying his admiration 
 of the boy's pluck with an emphatic " I told you 
 so." 
 
 John continued to carry the mail between 
 Ragged Edge Camp and the railroad every three 
 or four days: at first on foot, then, as the snow 
 melted, on his faithful Baldy once more. 
 
 Though his work took him away from camp 
 much of the time, John was continually running 
 foul of the boys who belonged to the other fac- 
 tion, and Ben was the object of their unceasing 
 abuse. A crowd of these fellows would stop 
 their games and yell at them those taunts which 
 are so exasperating to a boy : 
 
 " There go those Western jays." 
 170
 
 BATTLE ROYAL. 
 
 " Look at the kids that don't know the differ- 
 ence between a baseball and a lump of mud." 
 
 It was true that our boys were not up on the 
 national game or any other game played simply 
 for amusement; their sports were merely another 
 form of some kind of work. 
 
 Then the camp boys began to taunt John on 
 his fighting abilities, their object being to get 
 him to stand up against some one who would be 
 sure to beat him. This was one of John's weak 
 points ; he was immensely proud of his prowess as 
 a fighter; so when one of the boys said in his pres- 
 ence : " Worth said to-day that he could lick 
 Casey," he did not correct the falsehood there 
 and then, but put on an air of superiority that 
 had the effect desired. Casey, though not a big 
 fellow, was out of his 'teens, and had the reputa- 
 tion of being a " scrapper from 'way back," as 
 the boys said. He also heard the young mis- 
 chief-maker's statement. " Jab him, Casey; he's 
 only a bluffer," said several of his companions. 
 He could not ignore the challenge which was 
 plainly indicated, and, according to boy customs, 
 not to be avoided. Few boys know how much 
 bravery it takes to dare an unjust imputation of 
 cowardice. John and Casey were soon talking 
 hotly not that they had anything against each 
 other, but they were being egged on and neither 
 171
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 could withstand the pressure. The result was a 
 fight, the consequences of which had great influ- 
 ence, on one of the principals at least. 
 
 Casey was really a grown man, and John had 
 never fought in earnest with one old enough to 
 wear a mustache, but his blood was up now and 
 he would not back down. 
 
 The two retired behind a large stable and a 
 crowd of men and boys formed a ring. 
 
 " Keep him at arm's length," whispered Ben, 
 as he took off his brother's coat and cinched up 
 his belt firmly round his waist. " Don't let him 
 hug you and you'll lick him, sure." Ben spoke 
 confidently, but he was in reality consumed with 
 anxiety. John said nothing, but the look of 
 reckless determination on his face spoke volumes. 
 
 The two antagonists now stood face to face, 
 but neither had yet struck a blow. " How do 
 you want to fight? " Casey asked. 
 
 " You fight your way and I'll fight my way," 
 John answered; and at the word struck out. The 
 crowd yelled "Foul," but neither took any notice. 
 The blow was not a hard one, but it served its 
 purpose, for it stopped the talk and began open 
 hostilities. 
 
 Casey came at John, his arms jerking back and 
 forth, but hitting nothing. John drew his lead 
 and then, as his guard was lowered, threw in his 
 172
 
 BATTLE ROYAL. 
 
 own left with staggering effect. This angered 
 Casey greatly, and he rushed his opponent in a 
 vain effort to get in a deciding blow at once; but 
 his rushes were avoided nimbly, and as his de- 
 fence was careless many blows were rained on 
 his head and body. Evidently the boy knew 
 more about boxing than he did, Casey thought, 
 and as the method of fighting was left undecided 
 he determined to change his tactics. In a rough- 
 and-tumble fight he knew his age and strength 
 would tell. To close in and grapple with John 
 was his purpose now. So far the battle was in 
 the boy's favor, and a number of the wavering 
 ones came over to his side. " He's getting low 
 now, Worth. Swing on him," said one of them; 
 and John, acting on the advice, quickly landed a 
 stiff one on- the jaw. Casey fell, but John stood 
 to one side and waited till he got up. He was 
 angry clear through. Again and again he 
 rushed, but was beaten off each time. He aimed 
 a savage blow, which John almost succeeded in 
 dodging. It landed lightly, but gave Casey the 
 opportunity he sought and they clinched, the 
 miner hugging with all his might. 
 
 " Oh, John! " muttered Ben. 
 
 " Good work," yelled the crowd, who had sud- 
 denly deserted to Casey's side. 
 
 It was the greatest squeeze that John had ever 
 173
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 had. The blood rushed to his head, his breath- 
 ing became more and more difficult, but still he 
 struggled, twisted, and strained, and at last both 
 fell and the man's terrible grip was loosened. 
 He did not let go, however, and in a couple of 
 seconds both were on their feet and struggling 
 with might and main to gain the mastery. Again 
 they went down, this time John underneath and 
 on his back. The crowd paused an instant be- 
 fore pulling Casey off, but during that pause he 
 made good use of his time, raining blow after 
 blow on John's upturned face. John was licked. 
 
 Most of the spectators followed the victor, but 
 some remained behind, not to sympathize and 
 condole, but to jeer at John's defeat and laugh 
 at his discomfiture. It was gall and bitterness to 
 the boy, and he was glad to get away out of ear- 
 shot. Ben helped him put on his clothes and led 
 him down to the creek to bathe his bruised face. 
 
 "What's the matter with your hand?" Ben 
 said suddenly, as he noticed the blood trickling 
 over the knuckles of his brother's right hand. 
 
 " He chewed it," John answered. 
 
 " What ! bit you ! " Ben exclaimed. 
 
 " My arm was around his neck and he grabbed 
 my thumb in his mouth. He wouldn't have got 
 me so easy but for that." 
 
 For a time neither boy said a word. How a 
 174
 
 BATTLE ROYAL. 
 
 man could do such " dirty work," as Ben said, 
 was more than he could understand.* 
 
 On the way back to the house several fellows 
 stopped to call at John as he went by, for the 
 news had spread. He realized that it would 
 take a long time to live down this disgrace. His 
 heart was sore; it seemed as if this was the cul- 
 mination of all his hardships; he felt as if his 
 life had been all work and no play, that his efforts 
 to do his duty had not been appreciated, that 
 though other boys might enjoy themselves much 
 of the time (and he had seen them in this very 
 camp) he must work, work, work; he felt, in 
 short, very much abused and at swords' points 
 with everybody his brother excepted. One 
 more blow of bad luck, he thought, would " cap 
 the climax " and would result in he knew not 
 what desperation. 
 
 Before the boys had reached the house the 
 news of his defeat had been made known there, 
 and Mr. Worth, thinking that John had become 
 more or less a bully, determined that the lesson 
 he had received should be a lasting one. 
 
 "Hello, John! " he said jovially, as the two 
 boys came slowly in, "you met your match to- 
 day, I hear. "Whipped you well, didn't he? " 
 
 * John Worth bears the marks of Casey's teeth on his thumb to this 
 day. 
 
 175
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 - John hung his head and tried to hide the tears 
 that would rush out over his swollen cheeks. 
 
 " Hold up here, let me see your face," said the 
 father roughly. " "Well, he did give it to you : 
 eyes blacked, face scratched, mouth swollen 
 you're a sight. You'll be more careful next 
 time, I guess," he added. 
 
 John turned on his heel and left the room. 
 
 " Ben," he said, on meeting his brother out- 
 side, " I'm going away." 
 
 " Going away? " Ben repeated in wonder. 
 " Where are you going? " 
 
 " I don't know ; I don't care. I'm not going to 
 show my face in caniQ again ; even father at home 
 laughs and jeers at me. I'm going to leave 
 to-night." 
 
 176
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A TRYING JOUKNEY. 
 
 " I'm glad I'm going, Ben, but I'm sorry to 
 leave you; you'll go back and tell them I've 
 gone and be good to Baldy, won't you? I'll 
 write to you when I get to Helena." 
 
 It was long past midnight, and Ben was start- 
 ing his brother on his journey to the great city 
 that neither had seen. It was his present ob- 
 jective point; how far beyond he would go he 
 did not dream. 
 
 " How much money have you? " inquired Ben 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Nearly ten dollars, with your three. That'll 
 keep me going till I get a job." 
 
 " But say, John, wait a few days and we can 
 sell a horse or a saddle." Ben hung on to his 
 brother's arm and tried to pull him back; his 
 small, freckled face was full of entreaty and 
 trouble. " Regan will buy the three-year-old 
 after pay day. You'd better wait." 
 
 " Oh, I've thought of all that," said John. " I 
 12 177
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 could ride the colt off, for that matter, but I'm 
 not going to take away a thing except enough 
 money to last till I get work." 
 
 "Don't forget to write, John, will you? 
 They'll blame me at home for not telling about 
 this, so don't make it too hard for me." Ben's 
 voice was not very steady, and the note of appeal 
 in it affected John greatly. " Tell me if work 
 is plenty, for I'm going myself before long I'll 
 be so lonesome." 
 
 They shook hands without a word, each turn- 
 ing his face away, ashamed of the tears that 
 would come despite their efforts to suppress them. 
 
 " Good-by." 
 
 " Good-by." 
 
 Ben turned down the trail toward home and 
 John continued on in the opposite direction. Day 
 was just breaking; the stars still shone above, 
 while the sun's mellow light brightened the east. 
 Neither boy had any eyes for the beauties of the 
 sunrise; it was hard for them to part and neither 
 could think of anything else. They had been 
 not only brothers but " pardners." Never be-
 
 A TETING JOURNEY. 
 
 fore had they been separated. Rocked in the 
 same shoe-box cradle, playing with the same 
 rude toys, sharing the same pleasures and the 
 same fears, braving the same dangers, and divid- 
 ing bread or blanket when need be, they had 
 grown up so closely that they did not realize the 
 bond till it was about to be broken. 
 
 Brothers still they would be, but " pardners " 
 never again. 
 
 When out of sight, each, unknown to the other, 
 dropped to the earth and cried bitterly. Ben's 
 share of grief was the heavier. No change of 
 scene for him; no excitement of anticipated ad- 
 venture; no new sights, experiences, or friends; 
 the world was not spread out before him to enter 
 at will and to roam over; none of the delights of 
 freedom were to fall to his lot. Only duty, 
 weary, commonplace, devoid of companionship 
 and boyish sympathy. He went sorrowfully 
 home. 
 
 John, his cry over, felt better. The sun was 
 now coming out in his full strength, the birds 
 poured forth melody, the cool morning was re- 
 freshing. In spite of the parting wrench he 
 could not help feeling exhilarated, and the 
 thought that, no matter what might happen, he 
 was free, made him almost joyous. He sprang 
 up, dashed the tears from his eyes, and started 
 179
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 along the trail, shouting aloud: "I don't care." 
 He repeated it again and again, trying to con- 
 vince himself that he really didn't care. 
 
 It was too late to turn back now, even if he 
 wanted to; he knew his father's character, and 
 he did not fear pursuit. He wished now that he 
 had walked manfully up to him and told him. 
 " But he laughed at me," he said aloud, arguing 
 with himself. " I do not care," this between his 
 teeth; and then he marched on, his head held 
 high, defiantly. 
 
 It was fifteen miles to the railroad, John knew; 
 but how much further to Helena he had no idea 
 he had not thought of it before. 
 
 The trail he was following led him across the 
 range down to the main road on Savage Creek. 
 The mountain walk was fine, the air cool and 
 bracing, the sounds of bird and insect grateful. 
 Before long he reached the creek and drank 
 deeply of its clear waters, washing his bruised 
 face and hands. This he did gingerly, for his 
 wounds were still fresh and his bitten thumb, 
 which no one at home had seen, pained him ex- 
 ceedingly. The danger from a wound by the 
 human tooth is very great, but John realized 
 nothing but the pain. 
 
 The slices of bread and meat which Ben had 
 wrapped in an old newspaper for him were eaten 
 180
 
 A TRYING JOURNEY. 
 
 with relish. Though he was somewhat tired, and 
 his body still stiff from the hard usage of the day 
 before, he could not bear to sit still and think. 
 At intervals the tears welled up in spite of his 
 efforts to keep them back. " I won't think," he 
 said, and repeated his assertion, " I don't care," 
 to keep his courage up. 
 
 A piece of bread still in his hand, munching 
 as he walked, he struck off down the trail at a 
 strong pace, resolved to reach the railroad and 
 get to Helena quick. 
 
 After several miles of sharp walking along 
 the Savage Creek road, he heard the heavy 
 chug-chug and rattle of freight wagons ahead 
 of him. He soon overtook them and hailed the 
 driver. 
 
 " Hello, kid; where'd you come from? " called 
 that worthy cheerily, from his perch on the near 
 w r heel mule, his leg thrown carelessly over the 
 horn of the saddle, the picture of contentment. 
 
 " Up the road a way," answered John evas- 
 ively. " How far is it to the railroad? " 
 
 " What d'ye want of the railroad? " asked the 
 " mule skinner " sharply, bringing his foot down 
 and sitting erect. 
 
 John knew that these freighters did not look 
 with favor on the railroads or with any one or 
 thing connected with them, for they declared bit- 
 181
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 terly that the railroads robbed them of their 
 business. 
 
 " It's only a couple of miles to the railroad," 
 the man continued. " But it's eighteen miles to 
 a station. A railroad's no good without a star 
 tion; climb in this and take a ride." 
 
 John climbed up as the wagon moved slowly 
 along. He was tired, and the cheerful " mule 
 skinner " was a desirable companion, for the time 
 at least. The man lifted his leg again and turned 
 in his saddle, the better to talk to his passenger. 
 
 " I was cornin' down the road last month," he 
 began, " and the pesky train half a mile away 
 scared my mules nigh out of their wits. Mules 
 don't like trains; don't blame them neither. It's 
 thrown the critters out of work and is f orcin' me 
 clear out o' business how there, you Mag! " he 
 interrupted himself to shout, as the dainty-footed 
 mule swerved to avoid a mud-hole. " Notice that 
 mule ? " queried the teamster. 
 
 John nodded an assent. 
 
 " She's one of the finest near leaders in the 
 country; watch her gee." A long jerk line ran 
 from the driver's saddle to the bit of the near 
 leader of the eight-mule team. He pulled the 
 line gently and the leader swung promptly to the 
 right. He pulled steadily and the intelligent 
 animal swung back into the road. 
 182
 
 A TRYING JOURNEY. 
 
 " See that? Only a touch and she's awake. 
 That mule's a dandy; been offered two hundred 
 for her she's little, too." John only nodded, 
 but the teamster, glad enough to have a listener, 
 rattled on about his grievances, the all-absorbing 
 railroads and the men who ran them and spoiled 
 his business. 
 
 The wagon did not travel fast enough for the 
 impatient passenger, so before long he scrambled 
 down again. 
 
 " Must you go ? " inquired the teamster. 
 " Well, you leave the wagon road at the third 
 bridge ahead, and if you cut across to your left 
 you'll come to the railroad." The boy thanked 
 him. and started off on a brisk walk down the road. 
 " But it's eighteen miles to a station, and a rail- 
 road's no good without a station," shouted the 
 mule skinner, determined to have one more rap 
 at the iron trail. 
 
 " So long," yelled the boy in return, and con- 
 tinued at a brisk pace, in his effort to drown 
 gloomy feelings by rapid motion. 
 
 At the third bridge he left the road, struck 
 across to the left, and came upon the railroad. It 
 was a disappointment, though he found all that 
 could be expected when a " station is eighteen 
 miles away." The shining rails stretched away, 
 before and behind him, till they ran together in 
 183
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 the distance. The journey was a weary one, the 
 track rough with boulders, the ties hard and un- 
 yielding to his heel, and just too near together to 
 allow of an easy stride. Momentarily the heat of 
 the sun increased, and the track seemed to reflect 
 it back more intensely. There was no shade and 
 the heavens were brazen. He stopped at every 
 brook to drink and bathe his blistering feet and 
 cool his aching hand. Though he had eaten 
 nothing since early morning he did not feel 
 hunger, except in its weakening effect. On 
 and on he trudged, hour after hour, until swing- 
 ing his legs became mechanical and he ceased 
 to feel even weariness. At length a cooling 
 rain began to fall, wetting him thoroughly and 
 arousing him to faint gratitude for the relief it 
 brought. 
 
 Just before nightfall an object loomed up 
 far down the track; it was the station at last! 
 The boy struggled on, limping, his mouth 
 open and dry, his bitten hand swollen to twice 
 its usual size; and now reaching a water tank 
 near the platform, he dropped down by it, cruelly 
 tired. 
 
 After a short rest, he raised his head and 
 
 looked around. ISTot another building was in 
 
 sight but the station, and not a morsel of food 
 
 had he eaten since early morning. " I'll tackle 
 
 184
 
 A TRYING JOURNEY. 
 
 the station people for something to eat," he said 
 to himself, and, suiting the action to the word/ 
 presented himself at the door. A woman was 
 there, but in the dusk she took him for a tramp, 
 slamming the door in his face when he asked for 
 food. His only hope now was to catch a train 
 and reach some settlement. The station agent 
 dashed his last hope by saying that the last train 
 for the night had gone; but noticing the boy's 
 forlorn appearance he spoke to him kindly, so 
 John plucked up courage to say : " Where can I 
 buy something to eat? " The man responded by 
 bringing him food, and, while the boy was grate- 
 fully eating, told him that he would be glad to 
 let him rest on the waiting-room floor during the 
 night, but since the rules of the road did not per- 
 mit of this the best shelter he could offer was a 
 vacant building across the track. John accepted 
 the suggestion gladly, for he was tired in every 
 fibre. u Good night; that supper was bully, 
 thank you," he said to the agent. 
 
 " Looks like rain," said the other, following to 
 the door. " Hello, there's a fire in that house 
 already ; must be some other fellows there for the 
 night. You'll have company, but look out that 
 they don't rob you. Good night." 
 
 As John approached the outhouse he saw 
 through the half-open door a blazing fire and a 
 185
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 half dozen tough-looking men seated around it, 
 warming themselves and drying their tattered 
 clothes. 
 
 A hesitating knock on the door frame received 
 a chorus of " Come ins." The old door swung 
 back on its leather hinges with a jolt and John 
 entered. 
 
 The ruddy firelight gleamed on the face of a 
 slovenly fellow who sat beyond the fire. It was 
 a well-fed face, rounded, and not ill-looking in 
 contour, but grimy and littered with little tufts 
 of whisker; a gray flannel shirt, red neckerchief 
 and greasy-collared tan canvas coat clothed the 
 upper part of his body, and John cast his eye 
 about on four other specimens of the same type, 
 seated on ties about the blaze. 
 
 " Where from, kid? " asked one, as all turned 
 to observe the newcomer. All they saw was a 
 weary, hesitating boy. " Come up to the fire," 
 they said cordially, and moved to make room for 
 him. " Which way you goin' ? " 
 
 " I'm going West," he answered, his glance 
 taking in the whole crowd. 
 
 " We're goin' West too. Did you come in on 
 that last freight? " asked one. 
 
 John shook his head. 
 
 " No? Well, we all got put off here a little 
 while ago; the con and other brakies got onto 
 186
 
 A TRYING JOURNEY. 
 
 us and fired us. We wanted a sleep anyhow 
 been ridin' two days straight." (John wondered 
 for a time what " con " and " brakies " meant, 
 but finally concluded that the words might be 
 translated into conductor and brakeman.) 
 
 " I walked in/' said the boy innocently. 
 
 A look of pity showed plainly on each hobo's 
 face as he echoed " Walked ? " That any one 
 would walk, with a railroad near, was beyond the 
 comprehension of these tramps, for tramps they 
 were the regulation kind. 
 
 " You're green on the road, kid," said one, 
 whose name was Jimmy, as John soon learned. 
 " You'll soon get sick of counting ties," he con- 
 tinued, gazing curiously at the boy, as did they 
 all. "Why, kid, I've travelled this country from 
 side to side and from top to bottom in the last 
 fifteen years and I've yet to walk a step except 
 off one side to get feed," he added in explanation. 
 
 " But I hadn't money to ride," said John, 
 innocently. 
 
 " Money? Ho! ho! Why I haven't seen the 
 color of coin this summer. What d'ye want of 
 money? Beat 'em; we'll show you." He spoke 
 with a sort of professional pride, and the ex- 
 pression was reflected on the faces of the other 
 men. 
 
 John's bruised countenance had been noticed, 
 187
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 but as he had evidently been whipped in some 
 fistic argument it was etiquette not to question 
 too openly, but to approach the matter indirectly. 
 By degrees they learned that he had had trouble 
 and left home. 
 
 " I left home just at his age, boys," said Big 
 Larry, an American-born Irishman. 
 
 " That so ? " said one encouragingly. 
 
 " Yep, 'twas like this. Back in the East " 
 And Larry launched forth on a recital of the cir- 
 cumstances which led him to " take to the road " 
 and follow it ever since. 
 
 Two others had similar experiences. Jimmy, 
 however, frankly admitted that he took to it 
 from choice. " When I was twenty-one," he be- 
 gan, " I was engaged to be married, and expected 
 to settle down and be a family man." This 
 statement seemed to amuse the hoboes, for they 
 laughed uproariously. " My mother she's a 
 widow," Jimmy continued unmoved, " gave me 
 five hundred dollars to set me up in the butcher 
 business in our town in Ohio. Well, things went 
 on fine till pretty near the happy day, when I 
 began to see that the girl was getting offish and I 
 told her so. She got hot and said something 
 about another chap that I didn't like, and I quit 
 her quit her cold." A grunt of approval went 
 round the circle. 
 
 188
 
 A TRYING JOURNEY. 
 
 " It cut me up some and I got to drinkin' a 
 little, and soon I was drinkin' harder. The five 
 hundred my mother gave me and the five hun- 
 dred I had already saved up went in no time, for 
 before long I was drinkin' like a fish all round 
 the town. My mother wanted me to swear off, 
 and said she'd give me another start, but I knew 
 it wasn't no use and told her so and pulled out of 
 the town on a freight train. Been at it ever 
 since." 
 
 " Pretty tough on your mother," said Larry. 
 
 " You must 'a' had about a thousand, Jimmy," 
 ventured a less thoughtful one. 
 
 " Yes, it was pretty tough on the old lady, but 
 I was no good for that place, and she'd spent 
 enough money on me. Had about a thousand, 
 an' it's more than I've had since all put together, 
 an' more than I'll ever see again," the tramp 
 added, musingly. " I'll never leave the road 
 now; I like it. A man doesn't have to worry 
 about anything, he's better without money an' 
 he gets enough to eat, always seein' new places, 
 learnin' about the country, and findin' new 
 friends." 
 
 Most of this speech was made for John's bene- 
 fit, and he listened with interest. 
 
 " Now, boys, not one of us had seen the 
 other forty-eight hours ago, and yet here we 
 189
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 are round our fire talkin' sociable, spinnin' 
 yarns and hearin' 'em told; and I'll bet we're 
 happier than any six millionaires in New York 
 city." 
 
 " Yes, we are," they said emphatically, in 
 chorus. John thought much and said nothing. 
 
 " People s'pose we don't have to work," said 
 Shorty, another of the group, " but I'd like to 
 see them dudes work from Chicago to 'Frisco on 
 a freight train. Why, them fellers don't know 
 a brake beam from a drawhead, to say nothin' of 
 ridin' rods, breakin' seals on box cars, foolin' 
 brakies, and a hundred other of the little fine 
 points of our trade." 
 
 " An' then," chimed in another, " if we don't 
 work much, we don't get much, so what's any- 
 body else got to kick about, s'long's we're satis- 
 fied? " 
 
 Everybody agreed, and the group dropped into 
 a cheerful silence. 
 
 John had listened, it must be confessed, rather 
 admiringly; the freedom and apparent ease of 
 the life fascinated him, and he had half a mind to 
 become a hobo. He did not realize the degrada- 
 tion that went with it, the dishonest acts that 
 were necessary to secure food without money, the 
 hardship it entailed, and the constant uncer- 
 tainty of it all. 
 
 190
 
 A TRYING JOURNEY. 
 
 The thing that bothered him was the food 
 supply, and he finally ventured the question: 
 " Where will you get your breakfast in the 
 morning ? " 
 
 " Breakfast ? Well, we may not get it till 
 dinner time, but we'll get it. There are a few 
 houses at a gravel pit half a mile ahead, where 
 we got supper last night, but they're hard to work 
 and we'll have to get to Helena before we chew," 
 explained Larry cheerfully. " But you're all 
 right with that hand of yours," broke in Jimmy. 
 " You can work the sore-hand racket all right; 
 just show that to a motherly-looking woman and 
 she'll fill you up quick." 
 
 " I worked the sore-hand dodge myself for a 
 beautiful hand-out last night down at the gravel 
 pit," said Shorty. 
 
 John began to realize that it was a pretty pre- 
 carious and mean way of living, to depend on 
 people's generosity for sustenance. 
 
 As the evening passed the talk subsided, and 
 when the suggestion to sleep was given there was 
 not a dissenting voice from John least of all. 
 All lay down in a row, their feet toward the fire. 
 The coats had been taken off and spread over the 
 row so that each made a covering of two thick- 
 nesses. 
 
 Toward morning the boy was awakened by a 
 191
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 hand that fumbled about his pocket the one 
 which contained his money. Fortunately he had 
 taken the precaution before going to sleep to put 
 his own hand in and grasp the money. His hand 
 was being slowly withdrawn when he quickly 
 turned over, and then, fearing to sleep again, he 
 rose and sat down by the wall, his head against 
 the rough boards. 
 
 At daybreak a freight train came rumbling 
 into the station and stopped. In an instant the 
 tramps were up, and, separating, ran for the 
 train. John was left alone, wondering what to 
 do, but only for a minute, for Jimmy came run- 
 ning back, and with a hurried " I'll help you," 
 rushed him over to a pile of ties. When the 
 trainmen had gone into the station, Jimmy took 
 the boy over to a car and pointing under it said : 
 " Never rode a brake beam? Well, I'll show you. 
 See that brake beam? " He pointed out the bar 
 that held the brake shoes and crossed from wheel 
 to wheel under the car. " And those rods run- 
 ning lengthwise from it? Well, you sit on the 
 bar and hold on to the rods. See, like this," 
 and he slipped under the car and sat down on the 
 wooden bar, his legs dangling and his hands 
 grasping the rods. " I see," said John, and in 
 a second had taken Jimmy's place. 
 
 "Good, here's my board; I'll get along with my 
 192
 
 A TRYING JOURNEY. 
 
 coat wrapped round if I need to," and he handed 
 a board a foot long and eight inches wide, having 
 a slot cut in one end. This John fitted over the 
 rod, and it gave him a safer and more comfort- 
 able seat. 
 
 "Here they come; keep dark." Jimmy dis- 
 appeared, and the conductor's lantern came 
 swinging down toAvard the engine; his feet 
 crunched the gravel as he passed, and John's 
 heart was in his mouth. 
 
 " Pull out at once," was the order, and the 
 engine backed viciously for its start, nearly jerk- 
 ing John from his perch. 
 
 " Say, kid, I forgot to tell you " it was 
 Jim alongside again " look out and don't get 
 pinched in the air-brake rods; they're bad. When 
 the train's stopping, keep low and you'll be all 
 right. I'm on the next car behind." 
 
 The train was now gathering headway, and 
 John wondered how Jimmy would reach the 
 wheel trucks between the now fast revolving 
 wheels. A peculiar sensation came over the boy 
 half fear, half exhilaration. The whirring 
 wheels clacked and thumped the rail joints, the 
 ties flew underneath dizzily, the dust rose like a 
 fog, and the wind of the train rattled the small 
 stones of the roadbed together; the heavy car 
 swayed above him dangerously near, and John, 
 13 193
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 half choked and wholly terrified, wondered if he 
 would come out of this irresistible whirlwind of 
 a thing alive. All he could do was to grip the 
 rods at his head and hang on. 
 
 194
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A CHANGE OF SCENE. 
 
 For a time John could do nothing but hang on 
 like grim death. He was half unconscious; the 
 noise was so great, the dust so thick, and the mo- 
 tion so altogether terrifying that he was nearly 
 stupefied. After a while, however, he noticed 
 that the dreadful racket did not increase, that the 
 clicking of the wheels over the rail joints had 
 become regular, and that all the sounds had a 
 sort of humming rhythm. His nerves quieted 
 down somewhat, and he realized that he was still 
 alive. His grasp on the braking rods overhead 
 relaxed slightly, and he began to look around 
 him as much as the dust would allow. The 
 train was moving at good speed. The ties below 
 seemed first to rush at the boy threateningly, and 
 then in a twinkling disappeared behind; the tele- 
 graph poles along the track had the same menac- 
 ing attitude and seemed bent on his destruction ; 
 objects further off went by more leisurely. It 
 looked as if the whole earth, and everything on 
 195
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 it, was trying to run away from the standing 
 train. 
 
 John soon found that it made him dizzy to 
 watch the earth slip away from under him, so he 
 turned his eyes to his surroundings. The wheels 
 moved so swiftly that they would have seemed 
 to be standing still were it not for the side mo- 
 tion, alternately checked by the flanges; a spot of 
 mud on the rapidly turning axle looked like a 
 white ring. Though this mode of travelling 
 was dangerous, dirty, and unpleasant in many 
 ways, John decided, in the recollection of his 
 fatigue the day before, it was at least better than 
 walking. 
 
 In half an hour the wheels thudded heavily 
 over a switch joint, the speed of the train slack- 
 ened, and the cylinder of the air brake under the 
 centre of the car groaned a warning. John re- 
 membered his instructions and bent low to avoid 
 the big iron lever. He watched it swing slowly 
 toward him nearer, nearer; the rod attached to 
 it tightened until its vibrations sung in his ear. 
 The train slowed up and then stopped with a jolt. 
 " Phew ! that was close," he murmured to him- 
 self. He did not dare to get out of his cramped 
 position for fear he would be run over. His eyes, 
 nose, and mouth were filled with dust, his back 
 ached from his stooping posture, and the smell of 
 196
 
 A CHANGS OF SCENE. 
 
 grease and foul air escaping from the released 
 brake was overpowering. 
 
 " Come out, kid, it's all right." It was Jimmy 
 who spoke. John crawled out, glad of a change. 
 A short stop was made at the station, during 
 which the boy and the tramp lay in hiding in a 
 ditch. 
 
 ^Mfc 
 
 The engine tooted, and they rushed up the r* 
 
 ^k 
 
 embankment, but before either man or boy could v, 
 reach his perch the train had begun to move. 
 John managed by following Jimmy's directions 
 to scramble under and on to his brake-beam seat, 
 but by the time he was safely stowed away the 
 car was going at a good speed. The boy feared 
 greatly for his friend's safety. Jimmy, how- 
 ever, seemed entirely unconcerned ; he ran along- 
 side and caught one of the side rods that run 
 under every freight car and look like the truss 
 of a bridge; putting his foot on the end of the 
 brake beam, he swung himself under and was 
 soon sitting in state opposite John, but half a car's 
 length from him. This was in reality a very dif- 
 ficult feat, though it seems simple. If, in jump- 
 ing from the ground to the bar, his foot should 
 slip, it might easily get caught in the revolving 
 wheels, or it would be easy for him to lose his 
 hold when swinging under sure death would 
 follow in either case. John only breathed com- 
 197
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 fortably when he saw his companion seated in 
 comparative safety on the other braking gear. 
 
 Before Helena was reached several such stops 
 were made and John learned to swing himself 
 under to his perilous perch, when the car was in 
 motion, with comparative ease. 
 
 It was a long and most tiresome trip for the 
 boy. Although he got accustomed to this mode 
 of travelling before long, the dirt and smells, the 
 constrained position, and the necessity for cau- 
 tion and concealment \vere all very disagreeable 
 to him. He was overjoyed when he heard one 
 brakeman call to another : " "Well, Dick, you'll 
 see your old woman in three hours now." 
 
 The train came to a halt before entering the 
 railroad yards of Helena, and Jimmy (who 
 seemed to consider it his duty to look after John) 
 was alongside in a minute. " We'll leave here, 
 kid," he said. " There's p'lecemen in Helena, 
 so I hear, and they nab a man climbing from 
 under a car." 
 
 A collection of wooden houses huddled round 
 the station and " yard " was all they saw at first, 
 and John at least was disappointed, for he had 
 heard much of the magnificence of the place. 
 He learned soon that this was but the extreme 
 suburb and that the town itself was some two 
 miles away. 
 
 198
 
 A CHANGE OF SCENE. 
 
 Jimmy was for separating there and then, each 
 to forage for food on his own hook, but John, 
 mindful of his many kindnesses, insisted that 
 they should share the meal which he procured. 
 The supply of ham and eggs and steak that they 
 put away testified not so much to the excellence 
 of the fare as to the keenness of their appetites. 
 
 This important business finished, they in- 
 quired about the town itself and learned that it 
 was reached by a trolley car. Here was a brand- 
 new experience right away. John had heard of 
 electric cars, but had never seen one, and he 
 thought it a wonderful machine; but even more 
 wonderful was the fact that for a ride of two 
 miles a fare of only five cents was charged. He 
 wished that he had a hundred eyes and almost 
 as many ears, so that he might take in all the 
 strange sights that greeted him at every turn. 
 Jimmy, with transcontinental experience, ex- 
 plained many things in language interlarded with 
 strange hobo slang. When the yellow trolley 
 car finally reached the town, the boy opened his 
 eyes in wonder here was the real city. 
 
 The companions walked along the busy street, 
 which to John's amazement was paved with 
 stone blocks, the sidewalks being covered with 
 bricks and flags. As he saw the crowds of people 
 he thought there must be some sort of a celebra- 
 199 

 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 tion going on. In front of a saloon a'number of 
 men were gathered, and among them Jimmy 
 recognized some friends. John, however, was 
 not content to stand and listen to long discussions 
 as to the best routes to travel, the most likely 
 places where " hand-outs " might be had, and all 
 the rest of the talk that tramps indulge in ; so he 
 started off on his own hook on a tour of discovery. 
 " Don't get lost, kid," Jimmy shouted, as the boy 
 went off. 
 
 All his life he had been accustomed to almost 
 unlimited space, to nearly perfect quiet, except 
 the noise of the elements, the voices of wild 
 things and of the few human beings. All at 
 once he was thrown into the midst of a bustling 
 Western city, packed solid with business build- 
 ings and dwellings, the surface of the earth shod 
 with iron and stone, the very sky stained with 
 smoke, and the air filled with the roar of traffic, 
 the whistle of locomotives, the clang of the elec- 
 tric-car bells, and the shouts of street hucksters. 
 He was almost stupefied with wonder. Then 
 natural boyish curiosity took possession of him, 
 and he began to notice things separately and in 
 detail. He walked along with eyes, ears, and 
 mouth wide open; his head turning constantly 
 as some strange object caught his gaze. The 
 frequent big " saloon " sign did not surprise him, 
 200
 
 A CHANGE OF SCENE. 
 
 nor did the " Licensed Gambling House " pla- 
 card cause him to wonder; he knew them of yore, 
 they were all a matter of course to a Western boy. 
 But when he came to a building six or seven stor- 
 ies high he stopped short in the human tide, like 
 a spile in a rushing stream, and stood with mouth 
 agape in amazement. The plate-glass windows 
 and the gay display behind them, the brilliant 
 signs and elaborate decorations delighted him. 
 
 He was walking along slowly, when he caught 
 sight of the most wonderful " outfit " he had 
 ever seen, and stood still in his tracks to take 
 it in. It was a closed carriage with a fine big 
 pair of horses whose trappings were decorated in 
 bright silver. His fresh young eyes took these 
 details in at once, but what caused him to stare 
 was the big man on the box. Perfectly motion- 
 less, a stony stare on his smoothly shaven face, 
 John wondered if he was made of wood. His 
 whip, held at just the proper angle in heavy tan 
 gloves, white trousers painfully tight, high top 
 boots, and green coat shining with brass buttons, 
 the whole get-up topped by a big, shining silk 
 hat. For several minutes he watched him, but 
 not a sign of life did he betray. Then a woman, 
 richly dressed, came out of a nearby store and 
 entered the carriage, saying as she did so, " Drive 
 home, James." The dummy made a motion 
 201
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 with his hand toward his hat, flicked the whip 
 over the horses' flanks, and the carriage moved 
 off. 
 
 John's awesome gaze gave way to a laugh: 
 " Why, he isn't an English lord," he said to him- 
 self, " he's only a teamster," and he laughed 
 again. 
 
 A boy with a'package stopped to look at him. 
 " Whatcher laughin' at? " said he. 
 
 " Didn't you see that outfit ? " said the other, 
 between chuckles. 
 
 "Mean the kerrige?" John nodded. "That's 
 Fleischman's rig. Never seen one before? " 
 
 " I've seen 'em in pictures, but I never thought 
 they were true," and John laughed again. " I 
 suppose people do go down to dinner at six 
 o'clock as I've read they do," he said at last, a 
 puzzle that had long baffled him clearing away. 
 
 " Sure. Whatjer think they did, go up to 
 dinner? " returned the other boy scornfully. 
 
 " Why, I didn't see how they could go down 
 'less they ate in a cellar," said John in explana- 
 tion. " Who ever heard of people eating dinner 
 at night, anyway? " 
 
 From this talk and the big white felt hat that 
 
 he wore, the boy with the parcel gathered that the 
 
 other was a stranger to the town and town ways. 
 
 He felt quite superior and determined to make 
 
 202
 
 A CHANGE OF SCENE. 
 
 the most of it. " Come on down the street with 
 me," he said, and John followed, elbowing his 
 way among the people as he saw the other boy 
 do. They went along together, Charley Braton 
 (John soon learned his name) pointing out the 
 principal buildings, grandiloquently. Charley, 
 who was an errand boy in a dry-goods store, 
 reached his destination and invited his new- 
 found friend to come up, so both stepped into the 
 hallway and then through an iron doorway into 
 a sort of cage, where several other people were 
 already standing. John wondered what it was 
 all about, and was just framing a question when 
 a man slammed the gate and grasped a wire rope 
 that ran through floor and ceiling of the cage. 
 Of a sudden the floor began to rise, not smoothly, 
 but with a jerk that drove the boy's heels into the 
 floor. John's breath caught and he clutched 
 Charley's arm. " Seven," called out the latter, 
 and the car stopped with a jar. 
 
 " Elevator? " inquired John. 
 
 " Yep. 'Fraid? " questioned the other with a 
 grin. 
 
 "!N"ah. Little bit surprised though; never 
 rode on one before." 
 
 " Lots of people get scared, though," said 
 Charley, and began a long account of how an 
 old ranchman and Indian fighter lost his nerve 
 203
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 completely during his first elevator ride, and 
 finally pulled his pistol on the elevator man to 
 make him " stop the thing." 
 
 Charley's errand done, they entered the ele- 
 vator again, which descended so suddenly that 
 John felt as if the bottom had dropped out of his 
 stomach. Both stairs and elevators were new 
 to our country boy, and he concluded that he did 
 not care for either, but he was far too proud to 
 show any trepidation before his new acquaint- 
 ance. 
 
 The boys separated, Charley returning to the 
 store and John to the group of tramps at the 
 saloon. It was not an attractive circle round 
 the beer keg that the boy joined, and even he 
 realized that they were more dirty and shiftless 
 than any men he had known. But one at least 
 of them had been kind to him, and he was 
 grateful. 
 
 "Well, kid, wha'd'ye see?" shouted Jimmy 
 as he drew near. 
 
 John told the story with gusto of all the won- 
 ders he had seen, and especially his view of the 
 " carriage teamster." 
 
 " That's nothin'," said one man. " You see 
 them on every corner in N'York." Immediately 
 there arose an animated discussion as to the pos- 
 sessions of this or that millionaire, and there was 
 204
 
 A CHANGE OF SCENE. 
 
 not one of the tramps who did not know some 
 one in the household of a plutocrat. The talk 
 grew apace, and each narrator put forth all his 
 available knowledge of the traits and habits of 
 millionaires. All referred familiarly to indi- 
 viduals of seven-figure fame as " Tom " or 
 " Joe " or " George." 
 
 John and Jimmy meanwhile withdrew un- 
 noticed, and the latter evidently had some defi- 
 nite destination in view, for he started off at a 
 brisk pace along the street, commanding the boy 
 to come on. John did so without question, and 
 soon they reached an office building, which 
 Jimmy entered. They finally stopped before a 
 door bearing the sign " Doctor Hamilton," and at 
 this the tramp knocked. A boy opened the door 
 and ushered in the two rough-looking specimens. 
 " Doctor in? " asked Jimmy, hat in hand. The 
 doctor, a mild old gentleman, approached, and 
 John's protector spoke up : " Doctor, beg yer 
 pardin for comin' in, but this here kid has a 
 pretty bad hand," and he held up the boy's 
 swollen member. " There ain't nobody to look 
 after it and it needs a good washin' at least." 
 
 " Let me see it," and the doctor unwound the 
 
 dirty rags, handling the wounded hand ever so 
 
 tenderly. It was treatment to which the boy 
 
 was entirely unaccustomed, and he did not know 
 
 205
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 just what to make of it. Jimmy warned the 
 physician that neither had any money, but never- 
 theless he proceeded to attend to the sore hand, 
 washing it first, then dressing it and bandaging 
 the whole in clean white linen. John was or- 
 dered to come next day. And so, with a kindly 
 smile on his benevolent face, he bade them good 
 day. 
 
 The grateful patient tried hard to thank the 
 doctor and harder to thank Jimmy, but he did 
 not succeed very well with either. 
 
 " Now, kid, you've got to sleep in a bed till 
 that hand heals up," said the latter, when John 
 tried to voice his gratitude. " I've got a stable 
 full of hay that I'm goin' to sleep in; but you 
 hunt up a lodgin' house and save your money all 
 you can." 
 
 John followed the advice at once and found 
 a place where he could sleep in a bed for twenty- 
 five cents a night. 
 
 A week passed, Jimmy had taken to the road 
 again, and the boy was left alone for the first 
 time in a great town. He had been lonely be- 
 fore, but it was as nothing compared to the feel- 
 ing that now possessed him. To be surrounded 
 with people, all of whom were strangers, seemed 
 to him more depressing than to be absolutely 
 alone with rugged nature. 
 206
 
 A CHANGE OF SCENE. 
 
 By this time John's hand had nearly healed, 
 but his money had about given out, and he was 
 looking for work. It wasn't hard for a man in 
 those booming days to find work, but the boy was 
 in the awkward stage of growth when he was too 
 small for a man's work and too big for a boy's 
 though he had a full-grown appetite and clothes 
 to pay for. 
 
 He hunted diligently for a job; day after day 
 he tramped the streets in search of one ; he looked 
 into thousands of faces for one he knew. He 
 asked continually for work, and at last, after a 
 particularly trying day, heard of a restaurant 
 where a dish-washer was wanted. He went there 
 at once, but was told that the boss would not be 
 there till evening; later he called again and was 
 told that it was still too early. The restaurant 
 was set back of a saloon, which also bore the le- 
 gend, " Licensed Gambling House." Instead of 
 going away to return again, John determined to 
 wait. He loitered around the bar-room, sick at 
 heart. It was not a pleasant place to wait in; it 
 had no attractions for the boy, accustomed as he 
 was to open-air life. Several tables were scat- 
 tered about, and at these sat the gamblers, their 
 faces stony and expressionless, perfectly calm, 
 no matter how luck turned the result of long 
 and severe discipline. It seemed as if " the boss " 
 207 

 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 would never come, and John was about to give 
 up when he chanced to look at a table in a far 
 corner and saw, he thought, a familiar face. He 
 was all alertness in an instant, and went over to 
 make sure. Yes, it was Tom Malloy, John's in- 
 structor in " the noble art of self-defence." How 
 glad he was to see him ! Yet he must not inter- 
 rupt, for Tom was playing cards for a consider- 
 able stake. He must wait and watch his chance 
 to speak. Tom won steadily, and soon the boy 
 became so absorbed in the game that he forgot 
 all about the dish-washing; a friend was involved, 
 so he " took sides " at once. One by one Mal- 
 loy's opponents dropped out, remarking that it- 
 was " Malloy's night," till he alone remained at 
 the table. Raking the chips into his hat he went 
 over to the bar to turn them into the money they 
 represented; John followed, and when the cur- 
 rency was being counted out he approached: 
 
 "Hello, Tom," he said. 
 
 " Why, hello, kid," answered the man care- 
 lessly. 
 
 " Don't you know me? " said John, rather hurt 
 at this reception. " I'm John Worth ; you 
 worked for my father down in Dakota." 
 
 " The deuce you say ! You little John Worth ? 
 Not so little, either," said Tom in a breath. 
 "Where'dyer come from? What you doin' 
 208
 
 A CHANGE OF SCENE. 
 
 round a gamblin' house? It's no place for 
 you." 
 
 John remembered his mission and explained. 
 
 "Job? Well, I'm just the man to get you one," 
 said Tom cordially. He went back to the restau- 
 rant door and called a waiter to him. " Tell 
 Albert I want to see him," he ordered. Albert, 
 the restaurant keeper, soon appeared. " I hear 
 you want a man," Malloy began. " Here's a boy 
 who's as good as any man and an old friend of 
 mine; if you've got a good job, give it to him." 
 
 Malloy was a leading character among the 
 gamblers of the town; he won freely and spent 
 freely, and was therefore to be propitiated. Al- 
 bert graciously admitted that he had a job and 
 that John might have it; he even went so far as 
 to say that " sure he would make a place for a 
 friend of Mr. Malloy 's." So it was arranged 
 that the boy was to begin work the next day. 
 
 The two passed out together, and Tom noticed 
 the condition of the boy's clothes; they were 
 dusty, torn in many places, and generally dis- 
 reputable-looking. 
 
 " Those all the clothes you have? " 
 
 John nodded. 
 
 " Well, I'll see if I can't get you fixed up to- 
 morrow." 
 
 True to his word, John's friend in need took 
 14 209
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 him to a clothing store and saw to it that he was 
 supplied with a complete outfit. 
 
 John was togged out as he had never been be- 
 fore in all his life; he looked at himself in the 
 glass, feeling awkward and clumsy and wishing 
 his face wasn't so big and red under the small 
 derby hat. He couldn't get used to that hat, so 
 he slyly rolled up his big, old felt one and tucked 
 it under his arm when they left the store. Be- 
 fore Malloy parted from him he made him prom- 
 ise that he would call on him if he had any 
 trouble or did not get along well with Albert. 
 
 John began work at once. He yanked off 
 his new coat, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and 
 started in washing dishes as if his life depended 
 on it. It was a way he had when anything had 
 to be accomplished. 
 
 For several months the boy stuck to his job, 
 working steadily and well. The town, or at 
 least the meaner part of it, became very familiar 
 to him. Schools, churches, concerts, and society 
 events abounded, but they might have been in 
 another planet so far as John was concerned. 
 The saloon, the " Licensed Gambling House," 
 the cheap theatre, and the back streets were his 
 haunts. The rough teamsters, miners, and 
 gamblers were his associates. Tom Malloy was 
 his hero; the man's generosity and kindly spirit 
 210
 
 A CHANGE OF SCENE. 
 
 won the boy's heart, but the former kept a strict 
 watch over him for all that, and it is doubtful if 
 John could have got into very bad habits if he 
 had desired. The boy soon learned to know all 
 the celebrities of the under-world in which he 
 lived : Peter Aston, or Poker Pete, " handy with 
 his gun " ; Charley, or Snoozer, Johnson, also 
 known as " Gain," who played a " close, hard 
 game " ; Tom Malloy, with the widespread repu- 
 tation of being a man " hard to lick." 
 
 The class John associated with was a restless 
 lot, seldom staying long in one place, and soon 
 the same spirit infected him. He longed for the 
 open air and open country; the interminable 
 walls of the city oppressed him. It was with 
 great interest therefore that he listened to a 
 chance acquaintance who told of a new job on 
 railroad construction he had secured. John 
 asked several questions and learned that many 
 men were needed, and that there might be a 
 chance for him. 
 
 " Where's the contractor ? " he asked suddenly, 
 his mind made up. " I'm goin' to ask him for a 
 job." 
 
 " I met him half an hour ago at the ' Bucket 
 of Blood,' " answered his new friend. " I'll 
 go along with you; perhaps we'll find him 
 there." 
 
 211
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 They soon reached the saloon with the san- 
 guinary name, and luckily found the contractor. 
 John stated his errand and stood while the man 
 looked him over. " Perhaps you might work in 
 the cook house," he said at length. " You're too 
 light to drive a scraper." 
 
 " Yes, I could do that, but I don't want to. I 
 want out-of-door work. Have you got a horse- 
 wrangler yet? " 
 
 As luck would have it, the job John wanted 
 was not given out, and, after telling of his ex- 
 perience, he was appointed night horse-wrangler. 
 
 To get a saddle and riding outfit was the next 
 thing necessary, and this Tom Malloy lent him 
 from the store of such things he had won at 
 cards. 
 
 John found that to part from the man who had 
 befriended him in his need was the only really 
 trying thing in connection with leaving Helena. 
 Squalid as were most of his associations with the 
 place, he was really sorry to go away from Tom 
 Malloy. The thought of being once more in the 
 saddle, however, delighted him, and it was with 
 a preponderance of joy rather than sorrow, there- 
 fore, that he clambered early one morning into 
 the rough wagon that was to convey his party to 
 the scene of operations and saw the city disappear 
 in the distance. 
 
 212
 
 A CHANGE OF SCENE. 
 
 Soon he would be astride of a herse, out in the 
 open. ]N"o walls to encompass him, no roofs to 
 shut out the sky what a glorious and inspiring 
 thought it was ! 
 
 213
 
 CHAPTEK XIII. 
 
 HEEDING HORSES AND PANNING GOLD. 
 
 " Seems to me/' said John to his new partner, 
 Frank Bridges, " that this is a pretty tough gang. 
 Half of 'em drunk, and the rest of 'em ready to 
 take your head off if you speak to 'em." 
 
 " Oh, well," answered the other, " some of 
 them got out of money quicker than others and so 
 got out of liquor quicker. It's kinder hard to go 
 back to work in the wilds after loafing round the 
 town a good while. You'll find that they're not 
 such a bad lot when they're sober and get to 
 workin'." 
 
 The two were sitting on one of the scrapers 
 that trundled behind the wagons a vehicle 
 which, though not exactly comfortable, was ex- 
 clusive they had it entirely to themselves. All 
 day long they had travelled thus, except at dinner 
 time, when a short halt was made. John said he 
 would almost as lief ride a brake beam as a 
 " break-back," for so he had christened this jolt- 
 ing equipage. 
 
 214
 
 HERDING HORSES AND PANNING GOLD. 
 
 Long after dark they saw the white tents of the 
 camp loom up, and in a minute after their arrival 
 it was the scene of bustling activity. Orders 
 were bawled, greetings were shouted, the team- 
 sters yelled and swore at their horses. But above 
 the din rose the voice of Old Murphy, the con- 
 tractor : " Here, boys, rustle round and get these 
 horses out of the harness. Worth, saddle up 
 and take these horses to the other bunch and 
 watch 'em all till morning." Then, turning to 
 his foreman: "Ricks, get this fellow a saddle 
 horse." 
 
 " The others are tied up yet, Mr. Murphy," 
 the man ventured. 
 
 " What! Not out yet? " roared the boss. A 
 regular tirade followed, and John realized that 
 he must do his work well to escape a tongue-lash- 
 ing. He was rather staggered at the order to 
 saddle up and get out at ten o'clock at night, 
 with a lot of strange horses, in a country he did 
 not know. 
 
 " Say, Frank," he said to his friend, who was 
 busy unloading the rolled-up " beds " or bed- 
 ding, " this is no joke; I don't want to lose a lot 
 of horses and maybe kill myself in the bargain 
 it's going it blind with a vengeance." 
 
 " You'd better make a stab at it, anyhow," he 
 was advised. " The old man's raging, and you 
 215
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 might lose your job if you showed the white 
 feather." 
 
 " You ready yet, Worth? " It was Murphy's 
 voice, and John jumped at the sound of it. 
 
 " Give me a hand, Frank, will you. Bring 
 the blasted old cayuse over here while I get the 
 saddle ready. I'll do it or bust," and John 
 suited the action to the word. 
 
 In a few minutes the boy was in the saddle 
 and following the already straggling bunch of 
 horses. 
 
 " Keep your eye open for prospect holes," 
 shouted Frank. 
 
 " You want to watch those horses like thun- 
 der, Worth," called out Murphy, who seemed to 
 be everywhere at once. " They're strangers to 
 each other, and they'll split up and scatter to the 
 four winds if you don't watch 'em. Some's from 
 Oregon and some's from Utah, and if they get 
 separated it'll cost mor'n they're worth to get 
 'em back again. You've got fifty-six head 
 keep counting 'em." The " old man " appar- 
 ently did not want him to get beyond the sound 
 of his voice, but kept following and shouting in- 
 structions. Perhaps he realized that he was giving 
 the boy a trying, and possibly dangerous, task. 
 
 " All right," shouted John cheerfully, but at 
 heart he was not so confident. 
 216
 
 HERDING HORSES AND PANNING GOLD. 
 
 It was long after ten and quite dark ; the horses 
 in front were mere shadows and could only be 
 distinctly made out by the tramp of their hoofs. 
 To count them exactly was almost impossible, 
 for it was hard to tell where one horse began and 
 another ended. The old beast John was riding, 
 however, knew his business, and it was well he 
 did, for it was necessary to trust almost entirely 
 to his acuteness and keen sense of smell. Horses 
 and herder splashed across the creek and pushed 
 their way through the brush and up the hill 
 opposite. 
 
 The boy realized that his work was cut out for 
 him, and he determined he would see the thing 
 through. The hills and gulches round about 
 were new to him. There might be precipices, 
 quicksand bottoms, bogs, and, worst of all, the 
 night-rider's menace, old prospect holes. These 
 were short, narrow, and often deep ditches dug 
 by miners in their search for the precious metal. 
 Besides all this, he was on a horse he had never 
 thrown a leg over before and of whose disposition 
 and capabilities he knew nothing. 
 
 "If I only had Baldy! " he thought as the 
 cayuse he was riding plunged into the brush after 
 the retreating bunch. 
 
 Immediately his trouble began. The old 
 horses, old companions, jealous of the new-com- 
 217
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 ers, tried to elude them, and the latter were none 
 too anxious for their company. John could only 
 gallop forward and back and all around, re- 
 straining this scattering tendency as best he 
 could, and depending on his mount's sagacity to 
 avoid holes and obstructions. A merry dance 
 his charges led him merry in the lively sense 
 only up and down, in and out, over what kind 
 of country he could only guess. All he could 
 see of his troublesome charges was a shadowy 
 back now and then, or a high-thrown head sil- 
 houetted against a lighter patch of sky or a bank 
 of sand. 
 
 He judged himself to be two miles from camp 
 before the animals seemed to think of stopping 
 to feed. Even then they were determined to 
 separate, and it taxed John's vigilance to the ut- 
 most to keep them together. His horse began to 
 tire, it was many hours before daylight, and 
 something had to be done at once. An old 
 gray mare carried a bell on her neck and John 
 noticed that the rest of the bunch followed her 
 blindly. If he could catch and tie her up the 
 others might be more inclined to stay in one spot. 
 How to do this was the question. She was too 
 wily to be caught by hand, and if in throwing the 
 rope the loop missed, she would scatter the entire 
 herd in a minute. For a while he gave up the 
 218
 
 HERDING HORSES AND PANNING GOLD. 
 
 plan, but it g'rew more and more difficult for his 
 weary horse to keep up the continued darting to 
 and fro. 
 
 At last he decided to make the trial it was 
 the last resort and the cast must be successful. 
 He made ready his lariat, holding a coil in his left 
 hand and the wide loop in his right, and waited 
 an instant for a good opportunity. The gray 
 mare stood out more distinctly than the other 
 horses and made a better mark, but at best it 
 would be a difficult throw. For several seconds 
 John sat still in his saddle, the noose circling 
 slowly round his head, his arm still, only the 
 supple wrist bending. The old mare was watch- 
 ing him. The rope now began to whistle as its 
 speed increased. Suddenly the belled mare 
 snorted and started off on a run; John shut his 
 teeth hard, threw at what looked like a neck, took 
 a couple of turns round the horn of the saddle 
 with the slack rope, then waited. 
 
 Almost at once the line tightened. A gentle 
 pressure was put on the bridle rein, and the 
 pony's weight checked the mare in her flight. 
 The throw was a good one, and the mare was 
 caught. The shock was great, and John's pony 
 was green at this sort of business and the tight- 
 ening cinches made him jump in lively fashion. 
 The mare too had not learned that it is useless 
 219
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 to " run against a rope/' and for a while kept 
 John and his mount busy; but the increasing 
 tightness of the slip noose round her neck soon 
 quieted her and enabled the boy to tie her up 
 short to a tree. 
 
 The remedy proved to be effective; soon all 
 the horses were feeding quietly round the tied 
 leader. 
 
 John congratulated himself on his success and 
 prepared to take a much-needed rest, but was in- 
 terrupted by the sound of another bell far up the 
 gulch. Evidently there were other horses feed- 
 ing near, and it was essential to keep them sepa- 
 rated; so he trotted to a point between the herd 
 and the place from which the ringing came. 
 Again he dismounted from his sweating pony 
 and sat down to rest, when, chancing to glance 
 over his shoulder, he saw a small fire blazing a 
 quarter of a mile away. " No rest for the 
 weary," he grunted resignedly, mounted once 
 more and started out to investigate. As he rode 
 slowly nearer he made out a man sitting cross- 
 legged by the fire, his face in strong relief, his 
 back almost lost in shadow. Behind stood a 
 saddled horse, barely showing in the gloom. 
 
 John rode up, slapping his chaps with his quirt 
 to let the stranger know that he was a horseman 
 also and giving fair warning of his approach. 
 220
 
 HERDING HORSES AND PANNING GOLD. 
 
 Otherwise he might be taken for a horse thief 
 and shot on sight. 
 
 The stranger rose quickly and retreated into 
 the shadow. John did not like this. " Hullo, 
 pardner! " he called, drawing nearer. 
 
 "Hullo, stranger," replied the other. "Are 
 you lost? " 
 
 " No. I'm Murphy's night herder. Pretty 
 dark night, isn't it? " 
 
 The man returned to the circle of firelight, 
 his suspicions allayed, thus evidencing his own 
 honesty. John dismounted and came up to 
 him, glad to have some one to talk and listen 
 to. 
 
 " You night-herdin' too? I heard a bell ring- 
 ing up the gulch and I guessed there was another 
 bunch of horses up there." 
 
 " Yep. I've got Brady's horses up there," 
 and he nodded in the direction of a dimly visible 
 lot. John described the difficulties he had ex- 
 perienced and asked if there were many prospect 
 holes about. 
 
 " Yes, lots of 'em," answered the Brady man. 
 " An' they're deep too. I was ridin' along with 
 my bunch last spring, spurrin' my horse to get 
 ahead of the critters, when he went plump into 
 a blamed hole and he's there yet. I only got 
 away by the skin of my teeth." 
 221 
 

 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 " I guess I'm in great luck to get through this 
 safe," said John. " I was never on this range 
 till after dark to-night." 
 
 " Horses all there ? " inquired the other, nod- 
 ding towards John's charges. 
 
 " Sure. But I guess I'd better count 'em." 
 
 " My horses are like a lot of sheep. I'll go 
 along with you." 
 
 The two rounded the animals together again 
 and counted them as well as the darkness would 
 allow. They agreed that they numbered fifty- 
 six and John breathed easier. 
 
 And so the first night passed, the two herders 
 chatting pleasantly till dawn, when they parted, 
 agreeing to meet some other night. 
 
 A little before daybreak John rounded up his 
 bunch and began driving them in the direction 
 of the camp. When daylight came he counted 
 them again and to his satisfaction found them 
 all there. In spite of the tiresome trip of the 
 day before, the hard riding of the preceding 
 evening, and the long night's vigil, he felt as gay 
 as the lark that soared overhead pouring out a 
 song entirely out of proportion in volume to its 
 size. He hummed blithely an Indian war chant, 
 made over for the occasion, and breathed in the 
 early morning fragrance with a feeling of exhila- 
 ration that made him forget for the time that he 
 222
 
 HERDING HORSES AND PANNING GOLD. 
 
 had gone to work the night before supperless and 
 had not put his teeth into anything edible since. 
 
 The sight of the cook preparing breakfast 
 speedily reminded him that he had an " aching 
 void," which seemed to extend to his very heels. 
 
 The boss's query, " Got 'em all, Worth? " was 
 answered, with pardonable pride, in the affirma- 
 tive. For John felt that he had done good work. 
 
 The breakfast was soon over, and what a break- 
 fast! Baked beans, bacon, bread, and coffee, 
 a feast fit for the gods, John thought, as he rolled 
 into the bed that Frank had previously showed 
 him. He was sound asleep in a minute and en- 
 tirely unconscious of the bustle and noise a^bout 
 him. Murphy was giving orders in stentorian 
 tones that could be heard half a mile away; the 
 unwilling horses were being harnessed to the big 
 scoop-like scrapers and to the Avagons containing 
 tools; the men were divided into gangs, the new 
 arrivals, cross, surly, and suffering from aching 
 heads, starting with irritating slowness. Soon 
 all hands were hard at work, " moving hills to 
 fill up hollows," making a level trail for the iron 
 horse. 
 
 At this point there was much digging and 
 
 scraping to be done, a deep cut and a long " fill " 
 
 on the other side. At noon the men trooped back 
 
 to dinner silent until their hunger was satisfied, 
 
 223 
 
 .
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 then noisy and boisterous but John slept peace- 
 fully through it all. 
 
 About four o'clock he woke up and gazed 
 about him wonderingly. He was lying in a tent, 
 through the open flap of which the sunlight 
 streamed. 
 
 A dip in the stream that ran close by refreshed 
 him greatly and dispelled the sleepy, heavy feel- 
 ing that had possessed him. The creek was clear 
 and cool, and John lingered on its banks half 
 clothed, digging in the sand and mud with his 
 bare feet and hands. As he was dabbling in the 
 moist earth, he came across some sand that had 
 black streaks in it. His curiosity was aroused, 
 for he had not seen the like before, and he gath- 
 ered some in his hat, intending to ask what it was. 
 
 The cook was busy washing beans for supper, 
 so John sat down on a log near by and watched 
 him idly. His thoughts wandered back to the 
 coal camp, and he wondered about Ben and 
 Baldy; he longed for both, and for the moment
 
 HERDING HOUSES AND PANNING GOLD. 
 
 was tempted to go home and see them; then he 
 realized that he had chosen the path he was now 
 travelling for himself and felt that he must fol- 
 low it out to the end. He thought of the journey 
 to Helena, of Jimmy the hobo, and of the life 
 he had just left. His brown study was inter- ~"~ 
 rupted with a jolt. " What's that you've got in _x ^ ^ 
 your hat? " It was the cook, speaking rather ;/ 
 excitedly. >" I/ 
 
 * / 
 
 " Oh, that ? That's some sand and gravel I r / J/ 
 
 picked out down the creek; brought it up to ask v --^ 
 
 what it is." 
 
 " Well, it looks to me like gold." This im- 
 pressively. 
 
 " But it's black," objected John. 
 
 " Yes, the black is magnetic iron and often 
 holds gold maybe there's enough to pay. Do 
 you know how to work "the pan? " Cook was 
 evidently interested. 
 
 The boy professed his ignorance, and the other 
 volunteered to show him. 
 
 The pan, a flat, round, shallow tin affair, was 
 taken down to the spot indicated by John and the 
 lesson began. A little gravel, which included 
 some of the black sand, was scooped up. Then 
 the pan was taken to the creek, dipped under, 
 and the water was allowed to run out slowly. 
 This was repeated over and over, and each time 
 15 225
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 a little sand and gravel was washed over the edge. 
 At last only the black sand, being heavier, re- 
 mained. This the cook showed triumphantly. 
 
 " Only a little black sand ! Where's the 
 gold? " inquired John. 
 
 " It's in the sand, and has to be separated from 
 it by quicksilver, which absorbs the gold; then 
 you can throw away the sand," explained cook, 
 who had put away the residue carefully in a 
 bottle and was dipping up more gravel. 
 
 " But how do you take the gold out of the 
 quicksilver? " The boy was determined to get 
 to the bottom of this thing. 
 
 " Why, you can put it in the sun and let it 
 evaporate, leaving the gold, or you can send it to 
 town to be separated and run the risk of losing 
 both quicksilver and some of your gold." 
 
 John tried panning, but he found it needed a 
 much more practised hand than his; he spilled 
 out water, gravel, and all, or else he didn't ac- 
 complish anything. Cook's teaching was care- 
 ful, however, and before long his pupil was able 
 to gather enough sand, after sleeping and before 
 beginning his night's work, to realize fifty or 
 sixty cents' worth of gold when separated. 
 
 Immediately after supper John had to saddle 
 his horse and drive the work stock out to feed. 
 This task was becoming more and more easy as 
 226
 
 HERDING HORSES AND PANNING GOLD. 
 
 the horses learned to know each other. He met 
 Curran, Brady's wrangler, regularly now, and 
 the companionship helped to while away the long 
 night hours very pleasantly. 
 
 Curran was of medium height, stoop-shoul- 
 dered, and rather bow-legged from long contact 
 with a horse's rounded body. He was awkward 
 and stiff when afoot, an appearance accentuated 
 by the suit of canvas and leather that he wore. 
 In the saddle he was another being, graceful, 
 supple, strong seemingly a part of the beast he 
 rode. His skin was tanned and seamed by long 
 years of exposure to the sun. He might be the 
 very hero himself of a song he sang to John one 
 
 night. 
 
 BOW-LEGGED IKE. 
 
 Bow-legged Ike on horseback was sent 
 
 From some place, straight down to this broad continent. 
 
 His father could ride and his mother could, too, 
 They straddled the whole way from Kalamazoo. 
 
 Born on the plains, when he first sniffed the air 
 He cried for to mount on the spavined gray mare. 
 
 And when he got big and could hang to the horn 
 'Twas the happiest day since the time he was born. 
 
 He'd stop his horse loping with one good, strong yank, 
 He'd rake him on shoulder and rake him on flank.
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 He was only sixteen when he broke " Outlaw Nell," 
 The horse that had sent nigh a score men to well ! 
 
 He climbed to the saddle and there sat still, 
 
 While she bucked him all day with no sign of a spill. 
 
 Five years later on a cayuse struck the trail 
 Whose record made even old ' ' punchers " turn pale. 
 
 He was really a terror ; could dance on his ear, 
 And sling a man farther than that stump to here ! 
 
 A man heard of Ike ; grinned and bet his whole pile 
 His sorrel would shake him before one could smile. 
 
 So the crowd they came round and they staked all they 
 
 had, 
 While Ike, sorter innocent, said : "Is he T>ad f " 
 
 And durin' their laugh for the sorrel, you see, 
 Had eat up two ropes and was tryin' for me 
 
 Ike patted his neck "Nice pony," says he, 
 And was into the saddle as quick as a flea. 
 
 That sorrel he jumped and he twisted and bucked, 
 And the man laughed, expectin' that Ike would be 
 chucked. 
 
 But soon the cayuse was fair swimmin' in sweat 
 While Ike, looking bored, rolled a neat cigarette. 
 
 And then from range to range he hunted a cayuse 
 That could even in-ter-est him, but it wasn't any use. 
 
 So he got quite melancholic, wondering why such an 
 
 earth, 
 Where the horses "had no sperrits," should have given 
 
 himself birth. 
 
 228
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 A MIGRATION. 
 
 All that summer John tended the work stock, 
 keeping them together on good feeding ground 
 during the short night and driving them into 
 camp soon after daylight. 
 
 Much of this work was very pleasant ; the two 
 herders, Curran and John, met regularly and 
 many were the long talks and interchanges of 
 experiences they enjoyed. 
 
 The rainless summer nights were cool enough 
 to be refreshing and yet warm enough to make 
 the time spent in the open air delightful. But 
 when rain came all this was changed. The 
 horses became nervous and restless and required 
 constant watchfulness and continual riding, re- 
 gardless of treacherous foothold and hidden, water- 
 filled prospect holes. The long, yellow "slicker" 
 or oilskin coat, being cut deep in the back and 
 hanging over the rider's legs to his spurred heels, 
 served but poorly to keep out the driving rain, 
 and by morning he was fairly soaked. Arriving 
 229
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 in camp with his dripping charges, he would 
 dismount stiffly, and after a half-cold breakfast 
 crawl into a damp bed under an oozing tent. 
 
 John, however, learned to take things as they 
 came, good or ill, gathering valuable experience 
 from right and left. Curran was a horseman of 
 long standing, and gave the fast-maturing boy 
 a great many points that served him in good stead 
 later in life. He taught him how to detect any 
 uneasiness in the stock that might grow into 
 fright and start a stampede ; how to check this by 
 voice and by constant active presence ; and, above 
 all, by force of example he showed that only 
 through quick thought and unhesitating expo- 
 sure of himself to danger could harm to his 
 charges be averted. By nature courageous, al- 
 most to recklessness, John learned these lessons 
 unconsciously. 
 
 And so the summer passed herding horses at 
 night, sleeping and panning gold by day. By 
 the latter operation he was able to add, on an 
 average, fifty cents a day to his hardly princely 
 income of seven dollars a week. 
 
 As the warm season drew to a close, the night 
 wrangler's work became more of a hardship and 
 less a pleasure; only by dint of constant exercise 
 and a roaring fire was the life made endurable. 
 The night's work over, horse and rider would 
 230
 
 A MIGRATION. 
 
 come in stiff with cold and not infrequently wet 
 as well. 
 
 " Well, kid, the outfit breaks camp this week," 
 said cook to John one cold, wet morning in 
 November as he slid off his patient beast. 
 " Here's your coffee; keep it out of the wet." 
 
 " Can't break any too soon for me," said John, 
 sipping the steaming beverage and clinging 
 tightly to the tin cup with both hands for the 
 sake of the warmth it contained. 
 
 " Must be pretty tough this time o' year," said 
 cook sympathetically. " More coffee ? " 
 
 " You bet," answered the other. " I couldn't 
 stand it if I wasn't all-fired tough. I'll have to 
 be tough if I go range-ridin' this winter." 
 
 Curran put this thought into his head, where 
 it had been growing until it became a resolve. 
 
 " So you're goin' range-ridin', eh, kid? " 
 
 John nodded and asked the cook where he was 
 going. 
 
 " "Well, I'll tell yer," he said, stopping to wipe 
 his hands on the flour bag that served for an 
 apron, " I'm goin' straight back East where my 
 folks live; soon's I get back to town I'm goin' to 
 buy a railroad ticket East and go right off." 
 
 " Good enough," said John confidently, but 
 rather sceptical at heart, for he knew of many 
 men whose good resolutions melted under the 
 231
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 direful influence of the first glass of whiskey that 
 went down their throats. " "Well, I'm off to 
 bed/' he concluded, making for the bed that 
 Frank had vacated but a little while before. He 
 knew he needed all the rest he could get. The 
 following morning, as he came near the collec- 
 tion of tents with the horses, he heard Murphy 
 shouting: " Rustle round now, boys; get the cook 
 outfit loaded, the tents down, and your beds 
 rolled up quick. We'll be in town by noon." 
 
 The work was taken up with such a will that 
 John barely got his share of coffee, bacon, beans, 
 and bread before the cook's stores were stowed 
 away ready for travelling. 
 
 It was a very different crowd that now set out 
 for the town, and yet it was the same lot of men. 
 Nine months' heavy, open-air work had dispelled 
 weakness and brought strength, had replaced bad 
 temper with cheerfulness, and had, moreover, 
 filled pockets with Uncle Sam's good coin. 
 
 Frank and John, his chum, again sat on the 
 scraper that trailed behind a wagon, not now for 
 fear of contact with ill-tempered, almost desper- 
 ate men, but for the sake of comparative quiet 
 and to escape the practical jokes that none in the 
 wagon could avoid. 
 
 "Well," said Frank, "would you rather wrestle 
 dishes in Helena or wrangle horses in the open ? " 
 232
 
 A MIGRATION. 
 
 " I'd rather wrangle than wrestle," said John, 
 taking the cue with a laugh, " weather or no; and 
 I'd like to go out again soon." 
 
 On reaching town the men parted company, 
 each to seek the pleasure that most attracted him. 
 John at once hunted up Tom Malloy, who 
 was still prosperous and evidently glad to see 
 him. 
 
 " Well, kid, how did you get along? " he said, 
 in his old, familiar, kindly w^ay. The boy first 
 paid him for the saddle he had borrowed, to 
 which he had become accustomed and attached, 
 and then told in detail" of his experiences. 
 
 " Do you want to get back to pot- wrestling? " 
 asked Molloy at length. 
 
 " jSTo; not on your life! " and John told him of 
 his liking for work in the open and his distaste 
 for town life. 
 
 " Eight you are, kid," said Tom encourag- 
 ingly, " the town's no place for you, or for me, 
 either," he added rather sadly. " I'll be done up 
 some day " a prophecy which proved but too 
 true. 
 
 John and Frank took lodgings together, and 
 for a time did nothing but travel round the town, 
 noting the changes that had been made since they 
 had been away and taking in such cheap amuse- 
 ment as the place offered. It was on one of these 
 233
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 jaunts round the streets that John met his friend 
 the cook, blear-eyed, slouchy, and dirty, the bold 
 mustache he was usually so proud of drooping 
 dismally. 
 
 " Why, cook, I thought you were in the East 
 by this time," said the ex-wrangler, remember- 
 ing the solemn resolution confided to him a few 
 days before. 
 
 " No, I just stopped for one drink and that 
 settled it," confessed the other. " Haven't a 
 quarter to buy a dinner with now." 
 
 John took him to a restaurant and fed him. 
 
 This was the first of a series of encounters with 
 ex-campmates. The first feeling was one of 
 wonder and disgust that the demon of drink could 
 make such short work of a man; and then came 
 the fear that the constant drafts upon him would 
 use up his small savings. 
 
 " Frank," he said one day, " I've got to get out 
 of this or I'll be stone broke ; do you know of any 
 fellow that will take me on a range ? " 
 
 " Why, what's the matter? " 
 
 " Oh," said John, " this gang takes me for the 
 treasurer of an inebriates' home, I guess, and will 
 soon scoop every cent I've got." 
 
 " That's it, eh? " returned Bridges. " Well, 
 I'll go down the Missouri with you. I'm pretty 
 well acquainted a hundred and fifty miles or so 
 234
 
 A MIGRATION. 
 
 below, and I know where I can go range-ridin' 
 for a big cattleman any time." 
 
 " If you think you can work me in, I'll go," 
 exclaimed the younger. " I'll buy that sorrel 
 cayuse from Murphy. I can get him for fifteen, y\, 
 I guess, and we'll go to-morrow that is, if you I i 
 can work me in." This last was spoken rather 
 dubiously, but Frank assured him that he would 
 fix it somehow, and the compact was sealed. 
 
 The balance of the day was spent in getting 
 their outfit ready. Frank was already provided 
 with horse, saddle, and bridle, and the other ap- 
 purtenances of the rider: chaps, spurs, oilskin 
 slicker, and blankets. Some of these John pos- 
 sessed also, but he still lacked a horse; a few 
 simple necessaries in the shape of a frying-pan, 
 tin cups, coffee, flour, sugar, and the inevitable 
 beans must be supplied for both. The dicker for 
 John's sorrel was made in short order, and by 
 nightfall all the outfit was complete. At day- 
 light the following morning they were busy mak- 
 ing up the packs, and a hard job they found it, 
 for nothing seemed to fit, and apparently there 
 was enough stuff to load a whole train. It was 
 made up at last into two packs and lashed se- 
 curely behind the saddles; they mounted and 
 rode out of the fast-awakening town. One of 
 the two at least was leaving it for a long time, 
 235
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 to return under very different circumstances. 
 Nothing of this sort entered their minds, how- 
 ever, and they went out as unconsciously as if off 
 for a half -day's trip. 
 
 Frank knew the country pretty thoroughly, 
 having been over it once or twice before, so it 
 was plain sailing most of the time. Day after 
 day they travelled along at a dog trot a gait 
 that the Western horse can keep up all day and 
 one which a rider brought up to it finds perfectly 
 comfortable, but which would shake the teeth 
 out of an Easterner. The trail was clearly 
 marked, easily followed, and much of the way 
 wide enough to allow the horsemen to ride side 
 by side. 
 
 Though the two had been partners for several 
 months they had seen but little of each other; 
 during the day at the railroad camp Frank 
 worked while John slept, and during the night 
 the reverse was the case. This was the first 
 chance either had of really knowing the other, 
 and both were well pleased. There was plenty 
 of time and opportunity to talk, and they soon 
 found that they had plenty of acquaintances in 
 common. 
 
 " Ever been to Miles City? " John said one day 
 as they were trotting steadily along. The leather 
 of the saddles creaked and the cooking utensils 
 236
 
 A MIGRATION. 
 
 made a regular accompaniment to the thudding 
 hoof-beats. 
 
 " Sure. Two years ago this spring." 
 
 " That was about the time Dick Bradford and 
 Charley Lang shot each other, wasn't it ? " John 
 was referring to a " killing " that was famous the 
 country round. 
 
 " Yes, and I was right there in Brown's place 
 at the time." 
 
 " Tell me about it, Frank. Some say Brad- 
 ford was to blame and some say that Lang de- 
 served it. I knew Charley Lang a little and 
 thought him a nice fellow." 
 
 " Well," said Frank, " it isn't a long story; it 
 all happened the same day, the quarrel and the 
 killing. For some reason there was bad blood 
 between them; both had been drinking, and a 
 little dispute was enough to make them ready to 
 pull their guns on each other." 
 
 " Charley was pretty quick with his gun," in- 
 terpolated John, full of interest. 
 
 " So was Dick ; but their friends took their 
 shootin' irons away from 'em, and finally per- 
 suaded them to shake hands, and for a time there 
 was no further trouble, but all the old hands 
 feared that the business would not end there. 
 Both men came to Brown's place before supper. 
 Maybe you know the joint a good many things 
 237
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 have happened there, and Brown himself could 
 tell enough stories to fill a dozen dime novels." 
 
 John nodded. 
 
 " It wasn't very pleasant there then ; the two 
 were plainly looking for each other's gore, and 
 we all wished we could put a couple of hundred 
 miles between them. Well, anyway, Dick saw 
 Charley and called him an ugly name and then 
 invited him to take a drink. He might have re- 
 fused; that would have been bad enough, but he 
 did worse, accepted, and took the glass in his left 
 hand which, as everybody knows, is a deadly 
 insult, to accept a man's hospitality with your 
 left hand, leaving your right free to pull your 
 gun." 
 
 " But I should think it might just happen so," 
 suggested John. 
 
 " So it might, but Charley made his meaning 
 clear by the look he gave Dick. Nothing oc- 
 curred then neither had a gun but after sup- 
 per they managed to get a six-shooter apiece and 
 soon turned up at Brown's again. When I came 
 in Charley was sitting on the end of the bar, talk- 
 ing to the l barkeep,' his hat on the back of his 
 head, his legs swinging, the spurs on his heels 
 jingling when they touched the most uncon- 
 cerned man going. Dick was leaning against the 
 wall the other side of the room. He was mad 
 238
 
 A MIGRATION. 
 
 clean through. A couple of fellers were with 
 him, but they couldn't stop him from jerking 
 out his gun. He fired, but Charley had had 
 his eye on him and reached for his six-shooter. 
 The same instant the ball hit him in the chest. 
 He slid off the bar, but as he fell he fired twice, 
 and both shots went through Dick's heart. 
 Dick died right off and Charley lived only a 
 few minutes he died in my arms." 
 
 " What a way to die! " was the only comment 
 John made. 
 
 " Those were the very last words Charley 
 spoke," said Frank, more to himself than to his 
 listener. 
 
 " I guess Miles City was the toughest place 
 going then," said the boy. " Why, I was driving 
 through the town with my father one day (that 
 was when we were opening a big coal mine down 
 the Yellowstone) and we went under a half -fin- 
 ished railroad bridge and there, hanging from the 
 ties, were the bodies of three men. Lynched. 
 Ugh! " John shuddered at the remembrance 
 of it. 
 
 " Was that the case where there was some talk 
 of the men being killed first and hung after- 
 wards? " inquired Frank. 
 
 " Yes. There had been a row in Brown's 
 place, and these three had been put in jail, but 
 239
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 during the night they were taken out and in the 
 morning were found as we saw them. The regu- 
 lar vigilance committee had not done it, and the 
 doctor said death first, hanged afterwards." 
 
 Both of these characteristic stories were com- 
 mon talk whenever a crowd got together, but 
 neither Frank nor John had heard the facts told 
 by an eye-witness before. 
 
 It must not be thought all the conversation of 
 these two was of this blood-and-thunder variety. 
 Frank had lived in the East, and marvellous were 
 the tales he told about the buildings, the people, 
 and their doings. The two were so interested in 
 each other, and what each had seen, that the time 
 passed very quickly, and so John was surprised 
 when Frank said late one afternoon : " See that 
 blue range of hills about thirty miles ahead? " 
 
 John looked and nodded an assent. 
 
 " "Well, Baker's ranch is right at the foot of 
 them, and Sun River runs through it. That's 
 where we're goin'." 
 
 The following morning they rode towards the 
 ranch house, past the minor buildings, the barns 
 and sheds, past the hay stack, now bulging with 
 its winter store, past the inevitable horse corral, 
 just then containing several horses which were 
 circling round trying to avoid a cow-puncher's 
 "rope." As they reached the ranch house 
 240
 
 A MIGRATION. 
 
 proper a low, single-storied house built of logs 
 and roofed with split logs covered with turf a 
 chunky, white-haired man in overalls stepped out 
 of the door. 
 
 " Hello, Mr. Baker," said Frank. " You see 
 you can't lose me." 
 
 "Well, Frank, it's you, is it? I'm terrible 
 glad to see you. How are you? " Mr. Baker's 
 greeting was cordial. "Who's your friend? 
 What's his name ? " he added, noticing John for 
 the first time. 
 
 He was introduced, and the warm grasp of the 
 hand that John got from the old ranchman won 
 him at once. 
 
 " Mrs. Baker will bubble over when she sees 
 you, Frank. Tie your horses and come in." 
 
 A long hitching rail ran along the front of the 
 shack, and to this Frank and John made their 
 horses fast. 
 
 Mrs. Baker's greeting was even more cordial 
 than her husband's, and the youngster looked on 
 at the display of affection rather wistfully. Nor 
 was he ignored in the general greetings. 
 
 " You're just the fellow I want to see, Frank," 
 said the cheerful, kindly, buxom, albeit gray- 
 haired ranchman's wife. " Mr. B.'s getting 
 kinder old to be chasing round the ranch looking 
 after cattle and the range-riders, and I want you 
 16 241
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 to see to all that so I can keep Mr. Baker at home. 
 Will you do it? " She looked from her husband 
 to Frank and back again. 
 
 " I'm looking for a job, and so's my friend 
 Worth here. If you'll take us both I'll be glad 
 to stay," and Frank began to enlarge on John's 
 virtues, and told how they had shared the same 
 bed. He characterized him as a " plumb good 
 feller." 
 
 "Of course he can get to work," said the couple 
 together. 
 
 " Got a saddle? " asked the old man. 
 
 " Yes, I've got a good outfit," answered the 
 boy. 
 
 " Well, you can go range-ridin'." The ranch- 
 man spoke in a tone that was not to be gainsaid 
 it amounted to a command. John understood 
 vaguely that range-riding was something like 
 horse-wrangling, only the job he was now about 
 to undertake would last during the day and night 
 too. 
 
 The following day the boy was sent forth to his 
 new work. It was cold, and the gray ISfovember 
 sky had a look of snow in it; the air, too, felt 
 snowy. In the ranch house all was warm and 
 comfortable : a great fire of cottonwood logs was 
 blazing in the open fireplace, a few pictures and 
 examples of needle-work the evidences of a 
 242
 
 A MIGRATION. 
 
 woman's hand were interspersed with mannish 
 things: rifles in rough wooden racks, antlers of 
 deer and prong-horns, bridles decorated with 
 sih 7 er hung here and there on nails, and a long 
 wooden peg, driven into the whitewashed logs, 
 supported a richly carved saddle, Mr. Baker's 
 own. 
 
 From this cheer and comfort John went into 
 exile, to last several months the cold, bitter, 
 winter months of the Northwest. 
 
 With the instructions of Mr. Baker and the 
 warnings of Frank ringing in his ears, he started 
 off for the shack he was to share with an old, 
 experienced cow-puncher throughout the winter. 
 The eight miles were soon covered, and he drew 
 up before the little log shack which was to be his 
 winter home. A little box of a cabin it was, per- 
 haps twelve by fifteen feet, built solidly of logs 
 and backed up against a low bank for the shelter 
 it afforded. He dismounted and entered; a 
 single small window lightened the gloom some- 
 what and enabled him to see the familiar rough 
 bunks on either side, one for each occupant; a 
 rough deal table supported on one side by the 
 wall and on the other by two legs; a frying-pan, 
 a coffee pot, and a few tin cups none over-clean 
 hung near the fireplace; these completed the 
 decorations and furniture of the range-riders' 
 243
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 shack. It was one of several placed at varying 
 distances from the home ranch. 
 
 After tying his horse and bringing in the few 
 belongings he possessed, he sat down on the 
 empty bunk and waited for Barney Madden, his 
 mate, whom he had never seen. He wondered 
 what kind of a fellow he was. 
 
 244
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 KANGE-RIDING. 
 
 " Hello, kid! Who you lookin' for? " The 
 voice was deep and full and had a cheerful, con- 
 fident ring in it. 
 
 John looked up quickly and saw standing 
 in the narrow doorway a man whom he rightly 
 guessed to be Barney Madden. He was a man 
 over thirty, of medium height, rather slight, wiry 
 build, showing good, hard condition; his face, 
 decorated with a brown mustache, was a good one 
 determination, courage, and an abundant sense 
 of humor could be seen there. He had deep-set, 
 blue-gray eyes, which could be both stern and 
 merry. 
 
 " I'm looking for you, I guess," the youngster 
 answered, after a moment's pause, " if you're 
 Barney Madden. My name's Worth, John 
 Worth, and Mr. Baker sent me out here to 
 help you range-ridin'." 
 
 " Sure, I'm Barney Madden. I'm plumb glad 
 to see yer; you look like a good, husky kid, and 
 245
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 will help me a lot, I hope. Put your horse in the 
 dug-out yonder, then come back and help me get 
 supper," and he pointed to a little, cave-like 
 house built to shelter the horses of the range- 
 riders in winter. 
 
 Soon the sorrel was contentedly munching hay 
 in the warm stables with three or four other 
 horses. 
 
 Returning to the shack, John found Barney 
 on his knees blowing the fire vigorously. 
 
 " Well, kid, you'd better go down to the creek 
 for some water." Barney spoke in a disjointed 
 fashion, between puffs. " Can you cook? " 
 
 The youngster said he could a little. 
 
 " Well, suppose you try on this supper. I 
 ain't no cook, never was ; don't like it. If you'll 
 take care of the eatin' outfit I'll be satisfied all 
 right." 
 
 The supper over, Madden expressed his com- 
 plete satisfaction, and so John was installed chief 
 cook and head (also foot) of the commissary 
 department. 
 
 The following morning his work as a cow- 
 puncher began. At mining, sheep-ranching, and 
 horse and mule herding he had served a full ap- 
 prenticeship, and he now became a full-fledged 
 cowboy. Each of his previous occupations had 
 helped to fit him for the present undertaking. 
 246
 
 ' MANGE-SIDING. " 
 
 Almost from his babyhood he could ride, and 
 about the same time he learned to " throw the 
 rope," as the act of casting the lariat is called, 
 and by constant practice had grown more and 
 more proficient. 
 
 The duties of the range-rider, as he soon 
 learned, were to cover a certain territory (which 
 in this case was that section which lay between 
 Saffron and Buffalo creeks) to see that the dif- 
 ferent bunches of cattle did not get into trouble, 
 or, in case they did get into difficulties, to rescue 
 them. Each morning the two rose with the sun, 
 and after a very simple toilet to put on a hat 
 and a pair of spurs sufficed sometimes a break- 
 fast of bacon, bread, and coffee was dispatched. 
 Saddling their mounts was the next thing in order, 
 and each day the horse that had been idle the 
 day before was selected. This operation is easier 
 to describe than to accomplish, for, as a rule, the 
 cow pony has a strong dislike for the clinging 
 saddle, and especially for the hind cinch it in- 
 terferes with his free breathing and grips him 
 at a tender spot. When the horse has been led 
 out and the fifty-pound (or more) saddle is 
 thrown over his back, the fun begins ; he prances 
 around as if on hot iron, and a keen eye and 
 quick foot are needed to keep out of reach of 
 hoofs or teeth; at length, during an unguarded 
 247
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 second, the flapping cinch is captured and 
 brought under his belly in the twinkling of an 
 eye; the strap on the other side is rove through 
 the ring, and with a quick pull tightened; but 
 the pony, who has been expecting this, takes a 
 deep breath, and at the same time humps his back. 
 If the rider is inexperienced and secures the strap 
 when the pony is thus puffed up he will come to 
 grief when he tries to mount, the saddle promptly 
 slipping round as soon as he puts his weight on 
 the stirrup, and the knowing horse empties his 
 lungs and straightens his back. John was up 
 to all such tricks, and when " Roany " (the 
 sorrel's companion and the spare horse allotted to 
 the young rider) blew himself up, he simply put 
 his foot up against the pony's side and gave a tre- 
 mendous and sudden heave. It is a rather incon- 
 siderate and humiliating method for the horse. 
 Roany grunted protestingly; immediately his 
 girth was reduced several inches and John made 
 the cinch fast. 
 
 The horses saddled, the two riders went in op- 
 posite directions, visiting the well-known haunt 
 of each bunch of cattle in the section of country 
 committed to their care. In pleasant weather, 
 when the feed was good and water plenty, this 
 was by no means an irksome duty. The horse is 
 fresh and full of life; the rider, exhilarated by 
 248
 
 ' ' RANGE-RIDING. " 
 
 the bracing air and swift motion, shouts aloud 
 from pure joy at being alive. The day's circuit 
 completed, he comes back to the shack, somewhat 
 tired, but the possessor of an appetite that would 
 make a dyspeptic toiler in a city office still paler 
 with envy. 
 
 But John began range-riding during the hard- 
 est season of the year, when keen, searching 
 winds had to be faced, blizzards encountered, and 
 work of the hardest, most depressing kind had to 
 be done. 
 
 " By gum ! this beats all," said Barney one 
 morning, some months after John joined him. 
 He got out of his bunk, and, walking over to the 
 single window, looked out. "Snowin' yet. Here 
 this thing's been goin' on fer ten days steady; 
 grass all covered up, cattle near done, and horses 
 worn out and it's snowin' yet ! Seem's if Prov- 
 idence was down on us," and Barney proceeded 
 with his morning toilet, pulling on his boots and 
 grumbling under his breath. 
 
 John had something of the same idea in 
 his mind; he began to think all this terrible 
 weather was punishment meted out to him for 
 running away from home. For two weeks the 
 two riders had been in the saddle fourteen hours 
 a day, and the strain was beginning to tell on 
 both men and beasts. This was the terrible win-
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 ter of 1886-87, when many cattlemen were al- 
 most ruined. 
 
 " Come, kid; get a move 011," said Barney 
 rather wearily. " It's tough, but it's got to be 
 done." 
 
 They tramped out into the blinding flurry of 
 flakes and routed out their unwilling horses. 
 There was no frisking, and no tricks to avoid sad- 
 dling; the poor beasts stood resignedly and al- 
 lowed their masters to put them into their bonds 
 without a protest. 
 
 " So long," shouted John. 
 
 " S'long," returned the other. 
 
 And so they separated. John followed the 
 frozen Saffron Creek. It was lined with brush 
 which afforded some shelter for the half-starved 
 cattle that were collected in compact bunches at 
 different points for the sake of warmth. Six 
 hundred head of cattle were thus scattered along 
 the two creeks. Each of these John visited, and 
 with shouts and blows urged them from the cover 
 where otherwise they would stay dazed, stupid, 
 gradually growing weaker till they died in their 
 tracks. Once in the open, they moved more 
 briskly, butting and crowding each other till 
 their blood got circulating again, and they took 
 some interest in searching for the scanty grass 
 revealed by their trampling hoofs. 
 250
 
 " RANGE-RIDING." 
 
 This morning, after riding a half mile or so 
 from the shack, John came upon a bunch of 
 stock. He shouted at them and slapped those 
 nearest with his hat; soon all were moving to- 
 wards the open. All went well till a big snow 
 bank was encountered; this the shivering cattle, 
 weakened by hunger, refused to tackle, so John 
 drove his horse into the white bank, and by floun- 
 dering through two or three times a trail was 
 made. Still the stock refused to go through; 
 but at last, with much urging and pushing by 
 Roany, breast to rump, three were forced to the 
 other side and the others reluctantly followed. 
 One old cow still remained, weak, wavering, her 
 last calf sapping her vitality ; back went John and 
 Roany; the rope was uncoiled and the noose 
 dropped over her horns. A couple of turns hav- 
 ing been taken round the saddle horn, Roany 
 scratched and tugged, the old cow struggled a 
 bit, and in a jiffy the brave little horse " snaked " 
 her through. 
 
 A little further on the same thing was done 
 with another bunch. 
 
 From time to time, as he rode along, John saw 
 queer mounds partly or wholly covered with 
 snow: they were the cattle that had succumbed. 
 Many more then living he knew would give up, 
 try as he might and did to protect them. 
 251
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 Further on he noted a fresh victim, and as he 
 drew near two gray, slinking forms left it. 
 
 " Hold on, Roany ; we'll have to get a shot at 
 those," and suiting the action to the word he 
 pulled his steed up and drew his six-shooter. The 
 wolves were moving off slowly, licking their 
 bloody chops and snarling at the interruption of 
 their feast, their heads turned back toward the 
 boy, their teeth showing, their yellow eyes gleam- 
 ing. Crack went John's pistol, and one fell over 
 kicking. The other bolted for cover. 
 
 Crack, crack, the shots rang out, and he too 
 dropped. In a minute both wolves were skinned 
 by making a cut along each leg and down the 
 belly, and then with a strong pull yanking the 
 pelt off. The legs were tied together and both 
 skins hung over the branch of a nearby tree, the 
 location being carefully noted. Then the boy 
 rode on his melancholy task. 
 
 As the daylight began to wane, the effect of 
 the hard day's work was felt by both horse and 
 rider, and John looked forward to the time, but
 
 "RANGE-RIDING." 
 
 a couple of hours off now, when he would return 
 to the warm shack and satisfy his already raven- 
 ous hunger. They were still many miles from 
 shelter, and he knew that travelling must be dif- 
 ficult, if not dangerous. 
 
 " Come, Roany, old boy, brace up ! " he called 
 cheerily to his fagged mount, giving him a 
 friendly pat on the neck at the same time. 
 " We've got to get home." And he touched him 
 lightly with his quirt. The good horse re- 
 sponded bravely and floundered through the deep 
 snow, emerging on a bare, wind-swept spot where 
 he could make much better time. The pace was 
 so good that John could almost feel in imagina- 
 tion the warm glow of the fire and smell the 
 fragrance of frying bacon. 
 
 As they went on their way they reached a 
 steep little hill, the sides of which were covered 
 deep with snow ; down this they plunged 
 with ever-increasing speed. Suddenly Roany 
 stopped, stopped so short, indeed, that John was 
 thrown over his head into a bank of snow. As 
 soon as might be he picked himself up, dug the 
 snow out of his eyes, ears, and mouth, and looked 
 to see what the trouble was. Roany was strug- 
 gling violently. John soon found that he had 
 stepped into a deep badger hole, the sides and 
 top of which, frozen hard, were unyielding, and 
 253
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 held the poor beast's leg like a vise, twisting 
 and breaking the joint badly. The boy saw at 
 once that Roany would have to be killed; that 
 there was no help for him. It would be a mercy 
 to put him out of his misery, for he could feel 
 him quivering, and his eyes bulged out with pain. 
 It was a hazardous position for himself, but for 
 the moment he forgot it in his distress for his 
 horse. 
 
 "Roany, old boy, I've got to kill you," he 
 said, feeling that he must justify his act really 
 one of mercy. " You'll freeze to death if I 
 don't." 
 
 He drew his six-shooter from the holster, put 
 the muzzle against the horse's forehead, then, 
 turning his face away, pulled the trigger. A 
 few convulsive struggles and Roany 's sufferings 
 were over. 
 
 John loosened the cinch, and with considerable 
 difficulty pulled the saddle from under and hung 
 it to a nearby poplar ; the bridle was treated like- 
 wise; then he stood up and looked around him, 
 wondering what he should do next. 
 
 It was no time for sentiment, so he gave his 
 whole thought to the best way of reaching the 
 shack. He was already tired and hungry; the 
 wind was blowing the still falling snow so that 
 it was blinding, and there were seven miles of 
 254
 
 " RANGE-HIDING" 
 
 rough country to cover before shelter could be 
 reached. John set his teeth, and, after giving 
 a final glance at his faithful horse, he set out. 
 This time, fortunately, he had but himself to 
 think of and look out for, and if he could cover 
 the distance before freezing all would be well. 
 He struck off to the right, and, after floundering 
 through drifts, sliding down steep places, and 
 fighting the biting blast in the open, he came to 
 the creek that ran past the shack: he had but to 
 follow it. Hour after hour he toiled along, his 
 body bathed with sweat, his hands, feet, and face 
 icy cold. The snow blown in his eyes blinded 
 him, hidden obstructions tripped him, and hun- 
 ger took away his strength. Late that night he 
 stumbled through the door of the shack into the 
 w T armth and light. 
 
 Barney was wide awake and watching. 
 
 " By God ! I'm glad you're in," he said, grab- 
 bing him by the arm and dragging him forward; 
 then, as the lamp-light shone on him clearly, he 
 turned him round and pushed him out again. 
 
 " Your face is white : it's frozen. Get snow 
 on it, quick." 
 
 John thought he had had enough snow on him 
 
 that day face and all to last him the rest of 
 
 his life, but he submitted to the rough rubbing 
 
 that Barney gave him without a word, and soon 
 
 255
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 the chalky look gave way to the glow of red blood 
 circulating freely. 
 
 He was thoroughly exhausted, but the food 
 and fire prepared by his partner revived him. 
 somewhat, and he turned into his rough, hard 
 bunk and slept like a hibernating bear. 
 
 When the sun came out bright and warm and 
 the snow began to melt, the havoc wrought by 
 the storm became manifest. Only the strongest 
 cattle remained alive, and of these most were 
 males. The survivors were weak and their bones 
 almost punctured their worn-looking skins. In 
 the more sheltered spots lay many once sturdy 
 cows and heifers that later became a heap of 
 whitened bones. Though the thaw revealed all 
 these horrors, it also uncovered the herbage, and 
 little by little the remaining animals began to 
 gain strength and weight. 
 
 Now the range-riders were kept busy pulling 
 the foolish ones out of big holes. Each day the 
 various bunches of cattle were visited, and with 
 discouraging frequency some of them would be 
 found mired helplessly, weakened by their long 
 fast and rendered crazy by fright; their struggles 
 to get out of the sticky mud only sunk them more 
 deeply. It now became the cowboy's duty to 
 throw his rope over the mired beast's horns, make 
 the other end fast to the saddle horn, then to urge 
 256
 
 " RANGE-RIDING." 
 
 the sturdy little cow-pony forward with whip and 
 spur. The pony tugs, the cow struggles, and 
 soon she is standing on terra firma, exhausted, 
 indeed, but safe. This is hard work for the pony 
 and its rider, to say nothing of the cause of all 
 the trouble which is looked upon merely as so 
 much beef to be saved. 
 
 With steady spring weather came the oppor- 
 tunity to visit the home ranch, and John was glad 
 enough to take advantage of it. It was a long 
 time since he had seen Frank, and, of course, 
 there was much to talk of. It was Sunday, in the 
 forenoon, and work, for the time being, was slack. 
 Eight or ten cow-punchers were at the ranch and 
 were amusing themselves with a little buckskin- 
 colored horse. His viciousness had earned him 
 the title of " Outlaw " that is, he was consid- 
 ered unbreakable. 
 
 He was in the corral, small of stature, and, to 
 the uninitiated, innocent enough in appearance; 
 but for all that he had just bucked off Greaser 
 Tony, as good a rider as one could find in a long 
 day's journey. 
 
 The cow-punchers sat on the fence and egged 
 each other on to tackle the unconquerable little 
 beast; such an exhibition was great sport to the 
 looker-on, but of doubtful pleasure to the partici- 
 pant. 
 
 17 257
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 " Try him, Billy Iron-legs," said one. " You 
 can stick him." 
 
 " Try him yourself," responded Iron-legs. 
 " You're lookin' for fun, and that breakfast you 
 put away needs a little shakin' up." 
 
 "How'd the earth look from the bird's-eye 
 view you got of it, Tony? " said Frank to Greaser 
 Tony, who was off in a corner counting his bruises 
 and swearing softly. 
 
 " Here, Shorty, you ride him ; you're always 
 lookin' for somethin' lively." 
 
 Shorty's inclination to kick about his mount 
 was well known; he had a way of calling what- 
 ever horse was set apart for him to ride " old 
 cow " or " kitten." The proposition to put him 
 on the " Outlaw " and tie him there was hailed 
 with delight, but he dropped from his place on 
 the fence and vanished before any one could lay 
 hands on him. At this juncture Frank came to 
 where John sat, and pointing to one of the men 
 said, " That's the horse-range boss. I advise you 
 to ride that little buckskin yourself; 'twon't do 
 you any harm and they'll think a lot of you." 
 
 Any of these men could ride the horse, but it 
 is never pleasant to ride a bucking broncho, and 
 it is sometimes dangerous. 
 
 John accepted his friend's advice, and when 
 Frank shouted, " Here's a chap that'll ride the 
 258
 
 " RANGE-RIDINQ." 
 
 cayuse," he jumped over the fence into the corral 
 and went up to the outlaw. He was already sad- 
 dled and a hackamore was twisted round his nose. 
 John thought he knew horses pretty well, for his 
 long intimacy with Baldy gave him the inside 
 track of equine character. The little buckskin's 
 unbroken spirit and courage pleased him and he 
 felt friendly. The little fellow had been abused; 
 his sides were cut and barred by quirting, his 
 head and nose were skinned by rough ropes in 
 still rougher hands. 
 
 All men were his enemies, and at John's ap- 
 proach he struck out with his fore feet, but the 
 boy avoided them and caught the hackamore 
 close up to the head. He put his left foot in 
 the stirrup. The horse's eye was upon him, but 
 though the pony was quick he was quicker, and 
 was in the saddle and had caught the right stir- 
 rup before the first jump was finished. 
 
 Round one in favor of the boy, and the on- 
 lookers said " Good! " 
 
 Then began some of the " tallest " stiff-legged 
 bucking ever seen in that corral. Head between 
 his legs, back humped, squealing shrilly, the little 
 horse shot up in the air and came down stiff- 
 legged with a jar that made the ground tremble. 
 Every trick known to the cunning breed was 
 tried jumping sideways, twisting in the air, 
 259
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 plunging, rearing front and back all in vain. 
 John stuck like a leech till the " Outlaw " tired 
 himself out. He lasted for fifteen minutes with 
 scarcely a pause. Then with head drooping, nos- 
 trils turned out till the red showed, literally 
 drenched with sweat, he stood quiet, his body 
 exhausted but his spirit unconquered. 
 
 John dismounted and pulled off the saddle, 
 patted the little horse's neck, and turned him 
 loose. 
 
 It was a pretty exhibition of horsemanship, 
 and the spectators appreciated it. It was done 
 fairly, there was no " pulling leather " (holding 
 on) or " hobbling stirrups " (tying them under- 
 neath the horse a great assistance). 
 
 A number of the punchers expressed their ap- 
 probation. "Good work, kid." "That's all 
 right, pardner," said they. The boss said noth- 
 ing, but a week or two later John got orders to 
 come down to the ranch and bring his bed. 
 
 260
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A BRONCHO BUSTER. 
 
 The Sun River Ranch was a large one, and 
 many cowboys were employed to look after the 
 stock ; practically all the work was done on horse- 
 back, the cow-puncher or the ranchman never 
 deigning to go afoot indeed it would not have 
 been possible to cover the necessary ground by 
 any other means. A great many horses there- 
 fore were needed, each cowboy requiring three 
 or four, especially at those times of the year when 
 they are ridden very hard and have to be changed 
 frequently. The care and raising of the horse 
 herd were consequently very important parts of 
 the cattle-ranch business. The cow-ponies were 
 bred on the ranch and allowed to run free (it 
 being a well-known fact that they would not 
 stray very far) until the colts were old enough to 
 break to the saddle, when they were taken in 
 hand by certain of the men who showed particu- 
 lar skill in that direction. 
 
 John did not appreciate the full significance 
 261
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 of the order to return to the home ranch till 
 Frank, who seemed to be a walking information 
 bureau, enlightened him. 
 
 " If you want to go on the horse range Harris 
 will take you," he was informed. " It's cleaner 
 work than chasing cows, and there's more money 
 in it. Want to go? " 
 
 " You bet," was John's short and emphatic 
 answer. His encounter with the little buckskin 
 broncho was exciting and he wanted more ; then, 
 too, cattle are tame, stupid creatures compared 
 with horses. 
 
 " Here's your man," said Frank to Harris, the 
 head of the horse outfit, introducing John. " He 
 says he's ready now." 
 
 "Good! You'll find Matt and Jerry in the 
 corral now. Go over and pitch in. There's 
 twenty-five head that I want ridable by the time 
 round-up begins; that's only a week, and you'll 
 have to work 'em hard." 
 
 And so John became a broncho buster. 
 
 He reached the rough circular enclosure made 
 of split rails laid one over the other alternately 
 and strongly braced to stand the strain that would 
 surely be brought to bear. Inside the corral 
 were about twenty-five horses that had not seen 
 a man half a dozen times in their lives; they were 
 now trying to get as far away as possible from 
 262
 
 A BRONCHO BUSTER. 
 
 the two men, Matt and Jerry, and ran frantically 
 around close to the fence that walled them in. 
 They were as wild as deer and about as swift. 
 
 Swish ! hissed the rope. As John climbed the 
 fence it settled over the neck of a big bay. In a 
 second the boy was inside and hanging on with 
 the other two men to the end of the rope. The 
 bay plunged and tugged, almost frantic with 
 fright and rage, but the three kept their grip 
 and gradually pulled him by jerks away from 
 the bunch and towards the centre. lu 
 
 Nearer and nearer he is worked towards the 
 " snubbing post," a stout log stuck upright in the 
 ground; a couple of turns round this holds him 
 fast. Jerry takes in the slack as he plunges and 
 jumps until he faces the post only a few yards 
 off; then he stops, plants his feet, and sets back 
 on the rope; the tightening noose shuts off his 
 wind, and he wheezes and struggles for a few 
 moments, totters, and falls breathless. Matt 
 springs to his head and sits down on it, the rope 
 is relaxed, and the poor beast is allowed to 
 breathe again. Matt still holding him down, 
 though he struggles with might and main, John 
 knots the rope loosely round his neck and shoul- 
 ders, runs it back under the hind fetlock, draws 
 it tight, pulling the leg up close to the body, and 
 makes it fast. At a word from Jerry, Matt 
 263
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 jumps to one side and the bay struggles to his 
 feet helpless, as he has but three legs to stand 
 on. John rubs his neck soothingly, keeping a 
 sharp watch the while for nipping teeth; he be- 
 lieves even a horse has some feelings. Matt then 
 takes the noose from the neck, and, forcing it into 
 his mouth, leads the end back of the ears, makes 
 a half-hitch round the nose, then passes the end 
 through the noose again lo! a rough sort of 
 bridle or " hackamore." Taking the loose end, 
 Matt begins to pull the animal's head from side 
 to side until he understands that he must follow. 
 The first lesson is, never run against a rope; it 
 prevents comfortable breathing. 
 
 Saddling comes next. A saddle bla -ket is 
 thrown over the horse and rubbed gently up and 
 down his back to acquaint him with the feel of it, 
 then comes the saddle; the trappings frighten 
 him and he struggles, trips, and falls. The opera- 
 tion is repeated, until finally the cinches are 
 drawn and buckled securely. The big bay snorts 
 and trembles in every fibre, terrified at his bonds, 
 the first he has encountered in his wild, free life 
 he cannot understand it. 
 
 Matt and Jerry have ridden two wild horses 
 
 apiece that morning, so John volunteers to tackle 
 
 the bay. The horse is still thrashing round at a 
 
 great rate, but his foot is still tied up and he can 
 
 264
 
 THE SNUBBING POST HOLDS HIM FAST. 
 
 JERRY TAKES IN THE SLACK. 
 
 JOHN KNOTS THE ROPE LOOSELY ROUND HIS NECK. (Page 263.)
 
 A BRONCHO BUSTER. 
 
 do little. John reaches up and knots his hand- 
 kerchief round the poor beast's eyes, then releases 
 the foot, mounts quickly into the saddle, and 
 leaning forward removes the blindfold. The 
 frightened animal stands still, cowering like a 
 whipped cur or a chicken that sees a hawk cir- 
 cling above her: he seems to be waiting for the 
 strange, dreadful creature on his back to strike 
 him some fearful blow or sink its claws into his 
 flesh dreading he knows not what. He bounds 
 f orward a few steps still the burden sticks, and 
 he stops and looks round at it. His fear fades 
 and the courage and energy of his race return; 
 he determines to get rid of this thing that clings 
 so tightly. He leaps forward, runs a few yards 
 full tilt, then stops short, fore legs stiff, hind legs 
 crouching; it's a very sudden jerk, but John 
 hangs on with his knees, leaning far back in the 
 saddle. Again the horse tries the manoeuvre; 
 no use; he rears on his hind legs and then on 
 his fore legs ; he jumps sideways, bucks, pitches, 
 kicks, without a moment's rest for fifteen min- 
 utes. There is no pause, no chance to get a 
 better hold, to take breath ; it is a continuous vio- 
 lent paroxysm of motion. At the end of it the 
 bay is well-nigh exhausted and all in a tremble, 
 while John, though pretty well jarred, is calm 
 and master of the situation. The horse at length 
 265
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 submits to the superior will, and, magnificent still 
 but now under control, does his best to carry out 
 his master's wishes. 
 
 By the time the bay was well in hand and John 
 was ready to take the saddle off and let him go 
 free for the rest of the day, Matt and Jerry had 
 roped another horse and the same tactics were 
 pursued with it. So the work was carried through 
 till dark, each man taking his turn riding horses 
 that had never been bestrode by a living creature 
 before. There was a kind of wild, exhilarating 
 excitement about it, but it was terribly wearing, 
 and the jar and strain were enough to use up a 
 dozen men unaccustomed to the work. 
 
 The following day all the horses were ridden 
 again, with less difficulty this time, though they 
 were lively enough to suit any one. Some took a 
 week's training, some a month's, some were never 
 wholly subdued. To this latter class belonged 
 the little buckskin " Outlaw," with which John 
 had had such a lively time and who made his 
 reputation as a broncho buster. The boy and 
 the horse had much to do with each other for a 
 number of years. Their close acquaintanceship 
 came about thus : 
 
 The little buckskin was roped regularly every 
 morning, choked down, and after a great deal of 
 struggling, saddled; then some one of the cow- 
 266
 
 A BRONCHO BUSTER. 
 
 punchers would ride him until he was thoroughly 
 exhausted. This was continued so long that the 
 little horse became but a bag of bones, chafed and 
 bruised, a wreck, but unbroken in spirit. In 
 spite of everything he continued a fighter with 
 each ounce of strength that was in him a " dead 
 game horse." 
 
 " He's an outlaw if ever there was one," said 
 Harris one day. " If we can't give him away 
 we'll have to shoot him, for he's making every 
 other horse wild, though he's near ridden to 
 death." 
 
 " Let me have him," said John, who happened 
 to be standing near and overheard the remark. 
 " He's a dead game little beast and I like him. 
 I think I can work him." 
 
 " Take him and welcome, kid," said Harris, 
 with an air of relief. " The wilder he is the 
 tougher. Tame him and you'll have a star." 
 
 And so John came into possession of the little 
 buckskin, whom he named appropriately " Light- 
 ning " or " Lite." Jerry said, when the question 
 of giving him a proper name was under consider- 
 ation, " I've known several horses named Light- 
 ning, but I've never seen a hoss as would fit the 
 name like him." The boy's heart had not so 
 gone out to a horse since Baldy's time, and 
 though the two ponies were very different in 
 267
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 appearance and disposition, in after years John 
 found it hard to tell which he most cared for. 
 
 Before beginning the training he let up on 
 the terrible strain, the constant struggle, to which 
 " Lite " had been subjected and allowed him to 
 recuperate; he took care of him himself, and 
 later, when he grew stronger, allowed no one else 
 to ride him. Gradually the horse learned to know 
 his master and understood that that master would 
 not ill-treat him; and so there grew up a sort of 
 sympathy between them. " Pitch " he always 
 did when John first mounted him, but he soon 
 settled down to steady business, and a mighty 
 capable beast he proved to be. 
 
 Though John found the wages of a broncho 
 buster good, the work was very hard, it being the 
 most violent sort of gymnastics all day long. 
 When night came he was glad enough to sit down 
 and rest; he would, in fact, not have been sorry 
 to turn in right after supper, but the talk and 
 stories the men told were too good to be lost. It 
 was near round-up season and the riders were 
 being gathered, preparatory to starting off on 
 that great yearly summing-up expedition. There 
 were men from all over the United States and 
 Mexico, college-bred men and men of the soil. 
 No man knew the other's history, nor would any 
 one ask questions. There was hardly one but
 
 A BRONCHO BUSTER. 
 
 had strange experiences, some of which they 
 told. Then there were songs, many of which 
 were familiar to all and therefore popular. 
 Frank Bridges soon became a favorite with 
 everyone; his good nature and jolly fellowship 
 won him many friends. Moreover, he had a 
 good voice and was constantly called upon to 
 exhibit his ability. 
 
 It was on a restful evening, after supper was 
 over and the last rays of the sun were sinking; 
 the men were lounging about in the most com- 
 fortable positions they could find; the talk had 
 died down to a monosyllable now and then. 
 JMatt, the broncho buster, broke the silence: 
 " Frank, give us the ' Grass of Uncle Sam ' ; 
 you're the only feller that can remember words 
 and tune both." 
 
 And Frank, obliging as always, without any 
 excuses or palavering, sang the following in a 
 good strong baritone: 
 
 r-M i T 
 
 Now, peo - pie of the East-era towns, it's lit - tie 
 
 II I 
 
 that you know A - bout the West-era prair-ies: Where the 
 269
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 beef you eat does grow ; Where the hors-es they run wild 
 8 
 
 with the mountain - sheep and ram ; And the cow - boy 
 
 \ ' I 
 
 sleeps con - tent - ed on the grass of Tin - cle Sam. 
 
 THE GRASS OF UNCLE SAM. 
 
 Now, people of the Eastern towns, 
 
 It's little that you know 
 About the Western prairies: 
 
 Where the beef you eat does grow ; 
 Where the horses they run wild 
 
 With the mountain-sheep and ram; 
 And the cow-boy sleeps contented 
 
 On the grass of Uncle Sam. 
 
 We go out onto the round-up 
 
 To brand the sucking calf. 
 The stranger gets the bucking horse 
 
 (You bet then we all laugh). 
 He flings his arms towards the sky, 
 
 His legs get in a jam ; 
 He turns a flying somersault 
 
 On the grass of Uncle Sam. 
 
 The angry bull takes after us 
 With blood in both his eyes ; 
 
 We run, but when his back is turned 
 He gets a big surprise. 
 270
 
 A BRONCHO BUSTER. 
 
 Our ropes jerk out his legs behind 
 
 And he goes down kerslam ! 
 We drag the fighting out of him 
 
 On the grass of Uncle Sam. 
 
 The horse-thief comes along at night 
 
 To steal our ponies true 
 We're always looking out for him, 
 
 And sometimes get him, too. 
 We ask him if he's ready 
 
 And when he says "I am, " 
 The bottoms of his feet they itch 
 
 For the grass of Uncle Sam. 
 
 And when the round-up 's over 
 
 To town we go for fun. 
 The dollars we have hoarded up 
 
 Are blown in, every one. 
 Then broke, we hit the trail for camp 
 
 But we don't care a .\ 
 
 Wages are good when the grass is good, \. 
 
 The grass of Uncle Sam. 
 
 By the time the singer was half-way through 
 
 most of the impromptu audience were singing 
 
 the familiar air too. Their voices were none too 
 
 sweet or soft, for the icy blasts of winter and the 
 
 271
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 dust-laden breezes of summer did not tend to im- 
 prove them; but it was with a right good will that 
 they applauded Frank when he finished. The 
 song over, the talk began again, quietly, with 
 long pauses, while this man puffed his pipe or 
 that rolled a cigarette. The light had entirely 
 gone out of the sky now, and only the dim glow 
 of the shack lamp through the open door showed 
 one man to the other. 
 
 " Well, kid, think you can tame the buck- 
 skin? " drawled Jerry lazily. 
 
 " Sure after a fashion. ' Lite ' '11 never be 
 an easy thing; he's got too much life in him, but 
 we have got to know each other pretty well now 
 and we'll get along all right." 
 
 " You get that little horse sc's you can ride 
 him and you'll have the best pony goin'." Matt 
 spoke with conviction. 
 
 The talk grew more and more disjointed, and 
 finally stopped altogether. Then one by one 
 the men stalked without a word into the cabin, 
 and in a few minutes all hands were drinking in 
 the sleep as only thoroughly tired, healthy men 
 can. 
 
 273
 
 CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 A COW-PUNCHER IN EARNEST. 
 
 The round-up was now at hand that great ac- 
 count of " stock taking," literally, the closing of 
 the year's books as it were, on the cattle range. 
 At its conclusion the ranchman would know 
 whether the previous winter's storms and cold 
 had allowed him any increase or not. The cattle 
 roam at will over great tracts of country bounded 
 only by watercourses and the wire fences along 
 the railways; the herds of one ranchman mingle 
 with those of another, and only during the round- 
 up are they separated and the calves marked with 
 their respective owners' brands. 
 
 The date of the round-up is fixed beforehand 
 and all the details arranged, so that when the day 
 arrives every man is ready to take the field. As 
 several owners have cattle on the range, each 
 sends his quota of cowboys to do the riding, and 
 all work together under a general head or round- 
 up boss. 
 
 The Sun River Ranch had perhaps the largest 
 18 273
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 number of cattle out, and its outfit consisted of 
 twenty-five men, with two cook wagons and sev- 
 eral other vehicles to carry beds and various 
 necessaries. 
 
 The morning of May 25th, the day set for the 
 rendezvous of the round-up, was as near per- 
 fect as one could wish. With the first streak of 
 light in the east all hands were routed out, and 
 after a hasty breakfast, everyone at once set 
 about making the last preparations to take the 
 field. Some helped the cooks load up their 
 wagons and pack the utensils; some were busy 
 piling the beds into their places, and the rest 
 were occupied with their own riding outfits or 
 looking after the large saddle band. 
 
 It was a gay crowd; you would have thought 
 it was a gang of boys off for a swim instead of a 
 party of men bound on a very serious undertak- 
 ing, accompanied, as it was sure to be, with a 
 good deal of danger and no end of hard work 
 and privation. 
 
 John was in the thick of it, looking after the 
 horses he had helped to break. Of these there 
 were a goodly number, for from six to eight were 
 required for each man. He noted with pride 
 that "Lite's" bruises had entirely healed and that 
 his bones were almost wholly hidden by the firm 
 flesh and muscle he had gained under his new 
 274
 
 A COW-PUNCHER IN EARNEST. 
 
 master's watchful care. The boy was to be one 
 of the gang that represented the Sun River 
 Ranch, and he looked forward to the round-up 
 as an opportunity to show what was in him. 
 
 At last the procession was ready to move, and 
 amid a chorus of " so longs " to those left behind, 
 the shouts of men, the whinny of horses, the rat- 
 tle and bang of wagons and cooking utensils, the 
 snapping of whips, and the beating of hoofs, it 
 started. 
 
 Little time was wasted in making the journey 
 to the camping place, for all were anxious to get 
 to work. At this time, men gathered together 
 from widely separated points, acquaintanceship 
 was renewed and gossip exchanged. The fol- 
 lowing morning found them at the appointed 
 camping ground in convenient proximity to a 
 stream, and at about the centre of the terri- 
 tory which it was proposed to sweep clean of 
 cattle. Already the triangle bar ( A_) and the 
 M T outfits had arrived; their cook wagons were 
 unpacked and their fires built. It was not long 
 before the Sun River boys, called the Three X 
 outfit, from their brand (XXX), were likewise 
 settled. The settling in order was not a very 
 elaborate proceeding ; there were no carpets to be 
 laid " the grass of Uncle Sam " served that pur- 
 pose admirably the bric-a-brac consisting of 
 275
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 saddles, bridles, and some harness, which was 
 slung carelessly on the ground; and the furni- 
 ture, if the rolled-up blanket beds could be called 
 such (and there was no other), were left in the 
 wagons till wanted. 
 
 A hole a foot or so deep and a few feet in diam- 
 eter was dug in the ground to hold the fire and at 
 the same time prevent it from spreading to the 
 surrounding prairie a thing to be dreaded. The 
 tail of the cook's wagon was let down, thus form- 
 ing a sort of table and disclosing a cupboard ar- 
 rangement. An awning was spread over the 
 whole and it was ready for business. 
 
 As soon as these arrangements were completed 
 the men broke up into little groups, renewing old 
 friendships and exchanging the bits of news that 
 one or the other had learned. John hung round 
 the cook's wagon, making friends with that im- 
 portant individual. He was no poor hand with 
 the frying-pan himself, and the appreciation of 
 the cook's efforts soon won over this personage. 
 
 " Well, Billy," John was saying, " you'll be 
 kept pretty busy this trip, I guess." 
 
 "Yes, it'll be no easy thing," he answered. 
 " It's a big round-up, and it's so terrible dry for 
 this time of year and so dusty that the boys'll be 
 weary and lookin' for trouble and it'll all come 
 back on me." 
 
 276
 
 A COW-PUNCHER IN EARNEST. 
 
 " Oh, I guess not," said John consolingly, as 
 he walked about, kicking the tufted buffalo grass 
 and swishing his quirt about aimlessly. " I tell 
 you what, Billy, it wouldn't take much to start 
 a fire in this "-he slapped the grass with his lash. 
 " With a wind like this we'd have a blaze in a 
 
 minute that would be harder to stop than 
 
 Lookout! " 
 
 John rushed over to the shallow firepit, shout- 
 ing warnings as he ran, and began stamping 
 down the thin edge of fire that was eating its 
 way into the bone-dry grass. While the two were 
 talking, a gust of wind had blown a brand out of 
 the pit and into the tinder-like hay. John kept 
 stamping frantically, and in an instant Billy had 
 joined him and was also vigorously engaged in 
 crushing out the dreaded flames. They both 
 shouted lustily, and soon a number of the punch- 
 ers, seeing the thin smoke and realizing the dan- 
 ger, came over to help. 
 
 Fire is perhaps the thing of all others that the 
 plainsman dreads; a prairie blaze once fairly 
 started and sweeping over an expanse of territory 
 is almost impossible to stop, and there is nothing 
 to do but run before it ; man and beast, tame and 
 wild, flee from it. Only charred and blackened 
 ashes lie behind the swiftly advancing thin line 
 of flame. 
 
 277
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 All this came into the minds of the men as they 
 tramped on the red tongues of flame that lapped 
 ever further along and around. There was no 
 time to plough round (even if such an aid as a 
 plough could be had) and so check the fire by 
 turning under what it fed upon. Soon it was 
 seen that it would take more than the trampling 
 of men's feet to put it out, and a line was started 
 down the creek with buckets. Then blankets and 
 gunny sacks were wet and beaten against the 
 flames. 
 
 The smoke choked and blinded, and the heat 
 was almost unbearable, but the men kept the 
 blankets going until the spiteful red tongues 
 drew back defeated, and died. It was a hard 
 fight fer a couple of hours, and when it was over 
 those who took part were hardly recognizable 
 faces blackened and eyes reddened by smoke, 
 hair, beards, and mustaches singed. 
 
 John, who had drawn his smoke-begrimed 
 fingers over his cheeks and forehead, was a sight ; 
 Frank saw him thus and said he looked like a 
 cross between a tiger and an ourang outang. 
 
 For a day or two after all the outfits came into 
 camp the time was spent in organizing the round- 
 up and planning the campaign. The ranchmen 
 or foremen, as the case might be, were extremely 
 busy during this time, but for once the punchers 
 278
 
 ROPKD.
 
 A COW-PUNCHER IN EARNEST. 
 
 were at liberty to do as they pleased. All sorts 
 of cowboy sports were indulged in; horse-racing 
 (where " Lite," like Baldy, generally came out 
 ahead, under John's understanding jockeyship), 
 rope-throwing, and feats of horsemanship. What 
 to an Easterner would appear impossibilities 
 were commonplace acts of good riding for a cow- 
 puncher. Picking up a hat from the ground 
 while riding at full speed was a feat of good but 
 not at all extraordinary riding. 
 
 The men were full of life and energy sky- 
 larking was going on continually. It was no 
 place for the seeker of peace and quietness; the 
 air was filled with cowboy yells and shouts of 
 laughter. The unwary one, afoot or on horse- 
 back, was likely to hear a sudden swish and in a 
 second find himself hugging mother earth and 
 acting as if he was trying to pull a peg with his 
 teeth, the result of some rope throwing in his 
 rear. 
 
 As evening draws near the word is passed that 
 " real work will begin to-morrow," and all hands 
 quiet down, realizing that they will need all the 
 strength that rest can give them. Soon after 
 supper the men pull out their bed rolls, spread 
 them, and, using their saddles as head rests, turn 
 in. 
 
 The Sun River round-up is in camp. The 
 279
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 moon beams placidly down and shows in high 
 relief the white-topped wagons and tents huddled 
 together. Beds are scattered here and there 
 upon the ground, and from each comes the sound 
 of tired men's breathing. Half a dozen saddled 
 and picketed horses crop the grass near by, and 
 a small bunch of cattle, guarded by a single 
 rider, who lolls sleepily in his saddle, lie a little 
 further off, their heavy bodies appearing strange 
 and shapeless in the half light. A coyote from 
 a little distance barks and howls, but even its 
 voice is drowsy. The only animated sound 
 comes from a bell on a horse tinkling as he 
 feeds. 
 
 At four o'clock a little red spark appears near 
 the XXX outfit and the cook can be dimly dis- 
 cerned moving round his wagon. Soon the 
 smoke begins to pour from his fire, and then the 
 cooks of other outfits also show signs of life. 
 Tin pans and kettles are heard to rattle, and 
 breakfast is under way. At a quarter to five the 
 cooks begin the reveille of the plains ; dishpans in 
 hand they move about among the sleeping men 
 beating an awakening call neither musical nor 
 poetic, but most effective. Between the strokes 
 comes the long-drawn cry, " Grub p-i-l-e! Grub 
 pi-Ire!" 
 
 Apparently it is no easier to rouse up from the 
 280
 
 A COW-PUNCHER IN EARNEST. 
 
 rough couch, knobbed as it is with the inequali- 
 ties of the surface of the ground beneath, than it 
 is to rise from " flowery beds of ease." 
 
 " Cow-punching ain't what it's cracked up to 
 be," said Jerry grumblingly to John as they lay 
 near a XXX wagon. " I'm goin' to quit after 
 this round-up and drive a horsecar." 
 
 " It is kinder tough," .returned the younger. 
 " I haven't got used to ' Lite's ' prancin's yet and 
 I'm stiff." 
 
 It's the privilege of every working man on 
 land and sea to grumble at the early getting-up 
 time, and the cow-puncher takes all possible ad- 
 vantage of this immemorial right. They obeyed 
 the summons, nevertheless, and by the time the 
 night-wrangler came up with the saddle band 
 Jerry and John were on hand with the rest of 
 the punchers, having rolled up and stowed their 
 beds in the wagon. A rope corral was drawn 
 about them which sufficed to keep them together, 
 the cow-pony having learned the lesson thor- 
 oughly not to run against a rope, even if it is 
 flimsily supported. Each man took his lariat and 
 flung it over the Lorse he wanted to ride that day. 
 As the noose tightened round the neck of each 
 horse it stood stock still till its owner came up to 
 it. Led a little apart, the fifty-pound saddle was 
 flung over, and in spite of more or less struggling 
 281
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 the cinches were drawn tight and the heavy 
 bridle buckled on. 
 
 The rush for the mess wagon which followed 
 resembled a run on a bank, and for a few minutes 
 the clatter of tin dishes and steel knives and forks 
 drowned all other sounds. A tin cup of strong, 
 black coffee, a slice or two of bacon, potatoes 
 swimming in gravy, and a generous chunk of 
 bread comprised the bill of fare. 
 
 With plates and cups filled, John and Jerry 
 go off a little way to a wagon, and sitting cross- 
 legged with backs against the wheels, proceed to 
 put away with all possible dispatch the food al- 
 lotted to them. In a few minutes breakfast is 
 over, when each man brings his dishes and throws 
 them on the pile which cook is already busily en- 
 gaged in washing. Similar proceedings have 
 been going on at all the different outfits at the 
 same time, and soon all hands converge towards 
 the round-up boss's camp. 
 
 John and Jerry joined the gathering crowd 
 near the "captain's "wagon and waited for orders. 
 After a few minutes Kline, captain of the round- 
 up, appeared, a stocky man with a gray beard, 
 slouch hat, and greasy, round-up clothes; chaps, 
 flannel shirt, and big spurs. The crowd quieted 
 down instantly. 
 
 " Barrett, take six men and go to the head of 
 282
 
 A COW-PUNCHER IN EARNEST. 
 
 Bar Creek and rake the brush like a fine-tooth 
 comb," began Kline. Barrett swung into the 
 saddle, and picking out six men rode off with 
 them. 
 
 " Haggerty, take six men and clean up 
 Crooked Creek; Moore, three men and go up 
 Indian Gulch," and so the orders went. Each 
 group started on the instant, and trotting off, 
 disappeared in a cloud of dust. Soon all the 
 punchers had gone; only the cooks, the horse- 
 wranglers, and a few drivers were left. 
 
 Jerry and John had been sent up a small creek 
 to drive in all the cattle they found in that sec- 
 tion. The head of the creek reached (it was 
 about fifteen miles off), Jerry, who was riding 
 some distance from John, signalled to him to 
 turn back and make a detour so as to get around 
 the animals ahead. At the sight of the riders 
 the wild cattle began to gather into bunches and 
 stare; this tendency to come together made it 
 much easier to drive them. 
 
 By the time they had driven two miles a con- 
 siderable number had gathered, which increased 
 as it moved onward as a snowball gathers bulk 
 when it is pushed along. 
 
 When Jerry and John reached the main valley 
 they were driving perhaps a couple of hundred 
 head before them. Herds were pouring in from
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 every direction, and soon the whole valley was 
 filled with a vast mass of variously tinted ani- 
 mals, their horns tossing like a sea of tall grass. 
 Over all hung a great cloud of dust that obscured 
 the sun and made it impossible to distinguish a 
 rider the other side of the herd. " This is fierce," 
 ejaculated John as he tried to peer through the 
 brown-gray cloud at another rider. 
 
 " A cow-puncher can't live without dust," re- 
 turned Jerry, whose face was covered with a gray 
 mask, through which his eyes shone in strong 
 contrast. " My teeth is worn down and my lungs 
 coated with it, but I don't mind it no more. Look 
 out for that cow there ! " 
 
 An old cow, made angry and brave at once by 
 an apparent menace to her calf, was charging 
 down on John full tilt tail up, head down, eyes 
 rolling vengeance in every motion; for a min- 
 ute it looked as if he would be run down: the 
 charging beast was going at such speed that she 
 would be hard to avoid ; but when she was within 
 five feet of the boy's horse he gave a quick pull 
 on the rein, a sharp jab with his spurs, and the 
 clever little cow-pony wheeled sharply round and 
 out of range, the old cow lumbering harmlessly 
 by, her own weight and impetus preventing her 
 from turning. 
 
 " You want to keep your eye out for those old 
 284
 
 A COW-PUNCHER IN EARNEST. 
 
 cows with calves," admonished Jerry, " they're 
 looking for trouble." 
 
 All hands were now busy keeping the great 
 herd together, single animals were constantly 
 breaking out and had to be driven back; some- 
 times several- would start at once, when there 
 would be some pretty sharp riding for a while. 
 
 It was about midday, the sun was blazing down 
 from above, the dust rose in clouds from below, 
 lining mouths and nostrils of the riders. Since 
 six o'clock they had been in the saddle constantly, 
 and all felt, as Jerry expressed it, " Plumb empty 
 and bone dry." 
 
 The herd presently quieted down somewhat 
 and allowed the men to eat in relays, some watch- 
 ing while others fed. It was the briefest kind of 
 a meal, but it sufficed, and in a half hour every 
 man was ready, mounted on a fresh horse, for the 
 real work of the day " cutting out." 
 
 John and Jerry approached the tumultuous 
 herd, a swirling restless sea of backs and horns. 
 The din was tremendous ; every cow lowed to her 
 calf and every calf to its mother; the tread of 
 thousands of hoofs even on the soft earth caused 
 a heavy, rumbling sound that filled the air, and 
 above all was the sharp rattle of one horn against 
 another, of a thousand horns against each other. 
 Into this seething mass of living wild creatures 
 285
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 armed with sharp horns, and the tread of whose 
 hoofs was death, must go the cowboy and his in- 
 trepid pony. To drive out the cows and their 
 accompanying calves, so that the brand of the 
 mother might be put on the offspring, was the 
 cow-puncher's duty. 
 
 Jerry and John were as usual near together, 
 and Jerry as usual grumbling. He declared that 
 this cow-punching was a dog's life and that he 
 \vould surely quit it after this round-up. John, 
 as was his custom of late, was discoursing on the 
 merits of " Lite." " I'll show you what a good 
 cutting-out horse he is to-day," the youngster was 
 saying. " You just watch him." Jerry sud- 
 denly rode off to head off a steer that had broken 
 out of the bunch and so stopped the boy's talk. 
 When he came back John was about to dismount 
 to aid a weak calf to rise. " Look out! " was all 
 Jerry had time to shout, as an old cow with horns 
 like spears came charging down on the stooping 
 boy. It was not her calf, but she thought it was. 
 John's horse had become startled and ran back 
 so fast that he could not reach the saddle horn to 
 mount. The infuriated cow was within twenty 
 feet of him, the cattle hedged him in on every 
 side so he could not run, and he reached round 
 for his six-shooter as a last resort. He was about 
 to pull the trigger when Jerry's rope came flying 
 286
 
 A COW-PUNCHER IN EARNEST. 
 
 through the air, settled round the animal's hind 
 legs, and down she came in a heap just in time. 
 
 " You'll take my word next time when I tell 
 you not to dismount in a bunch of cattle." John 
 said nothing, but he realized that it was a pretty 
 close shave. 
 
 Soon the cutting-out process began, to accom- 
 plish which the rider enters the main bunch, 
 selects a cow with a calf bearing the brand of 
 his outfit, and drives them out to a place apart, 
 where other riders keep them separated from the 
 main bunch and from the similar collections of 
 other brands. To select his own brand from 
 dozens of others requires a quick and sure eye on 
 the part of the rider, and to follow that particular 
 cow through all the turnings and twistings she is 
 sure to take, requires great cleverness and perse- 
 verance on the part of the horse. 
 
 It was "Lite's" first experience as a cutting-out 
 horse, but John had full confidence in his ability 
 in this as in every other branch of cow-pony edu- 
 cation. " You just watch him " this to Jerry, 
 who had expressed some doubts. John and 
 Lightning rushed into the sea of cattle. Whether 
 by the gentle pressure of the knees or remarkable 
 knowledge Jerry knew not, but he saw the little 
 horse single out an animal and start it out, fol- 
 lowing directly at its heels. It turned to the 
 287
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 left sharply ; Lightning deftly threw his fore legs 
 over its back and stood in its path; it turned to 
 the right horse and rider were there also. 
 Through the herd they went full speed, twisting, 
 turning, passing through lanes of cattle so nar- 
 row that John's legs rubbed their rough bodies 
 on either side ; but always they were close at the 
 heels of the XXX cow, and finally they drove 
 her out where Jerry was guarding several others 
 of the same outfit. 
 
 "How's that?" said John breathlessly. It 
 was hard work for horse and rider, particularly 
 for the former. 
 
 " That's all right," Jerry answered, more en- 
 thusiastically than was his wont. " He's got the 
 making of a good cow-horse in him." 
 
 288
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A MIDNIGHT STAMPEDE. 
 
 On a wide flat the round-up outfit commenced 
 working the big bunch. As the cutters-out dart 
 here and there, whirling, dodging, and following, 
 the small individual bunches slowly increase in 
 size, while the main bunch correspondingly 
 dwindles. 
 
 John and his Lightning work away with other 
 riders until only the nucleus of the herd remains, 
 and in five minutes this too has vanished. Each 
 outfit pauses to rest a few minutes before the 
 counting and branding begin; in the meantime 
 Jerry is coaxing the fire in which the branding- 
 irons are heating. 
 
 " What'll you give for the buckskin now? " 
 said John with pardonable pride, as he drove in 
 the last animal bearing the XXX brand. 
 
 " He'll do ; but I want to see you rope with him 
 
 before I take back all I've said," answered Jerry, 
 
 " He cuts out pretty well, but you get a calf on 
 
 your string and the string under his tail and he'll 
 
 19 289
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 dizzy you," and Jerry began to poke the fire, 
 chuckling the while. 
 
 " Oh, you're jokin'; I can ride him now with- 
 out stirrups. I tell you he's a broke horse." 
 
 " The iron is hot now," broke in Jerry, as he 
 rolled up his sleeves. " Let's see what your horse 
 can do. Bring in your calves." 
 
 It was John's duty, with two other men, to rope 
 the calves belonging to his ranch by the hind legs 
 and yank them along the smooth grass to the 
 branding fire, where Jerry applied the hot iron. 
 He started Lightning on a run to rope the first 
 calf, eager to prove his horse's ability. 
 
 One sleek little fellow stood on the edge of the 
 XXX bunch, gazing in wonder at the horse and 
 his rider. Doubtless the calf thought this a 
 strange creature, able to separate into two parts 
 and reunite without the slightest inconvenience. 
 John went straight for it and broke off its 
 cogitations suddenly by whirling his rope and 
 throwing it under the little fellow. The calf 
 started and jumped into the loop, and John 
 quickly drew the rope tight, pulling its hind legs 
 from under it and throwing the little animal 
 heavily. Lightning was checked and the calf 
 rolled over and began to struggle and bleat 
 piteously. A green horse is nearly always fright- 
 ened the first time he pulls on a rope : he does not 
 290
 
 DRAGGED IT UP TO THE FIRE. 
 
 WHILE THE IRON WAS APPLIED. (Page 292.)
 
 A MIDNIGHT STAMPEDE. 
 
 understand it, and Lightning was no exception to 
 the rule. The rope touched his shifty hind legs 
 and he kicked out with all his might; it rubbed 
 harder as the calf struggled, and the horse began 
 to whirl and plunge viciously in his efforts to 
 get rid of the line that scraped his sensitive 
 sides. 
 
 Fortunately the little creature got loose at this 
 juncture and escaped. True to prediction, the 
 rope got under " Lite's " tail and now the fun 
 commenced in earnest. He bucked as he had 
 never bucked before, and all but stood on his 
 head. The other outfits stopped work for the 
 moment to see the sport. 
 
 Lightning fairly foamed in his rage and fear; 
 he bucked continuously, and every time he struck 
 the ground he gave a hoarse squeal shrill and 
 wicked. John's strength was sorely tried; but 
 after his boasting it would never do to be " piled 
 up," so he set his teeth and vowed he would stick, 
 no matter what happened. The fury of the ef- 
 fort made it a short one, but it seemed to John 
 plenty long enough, for during the five minutes 
 the saddle was like unto a hurricane deck in a 
 raging sea. But through it all John came out 
 triumphant. In the words of a bystander: " The 
 little horse "bellered and bucked and the kid 
 never pulled leather " (did not hold on to the 
 291
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 horn of his saddle). Which was high praise 
 from a cow-puncher to a cow-puncher. 
 
 " What'll you take for him? " called Jerry, as 
 John dismounted to untangle the rope from 
 " Lite's " heels. 
 
 " Money can't buy him," was the reply. John 
 was bruised and stiff, but his pride was not broken 
 and his faith in his horse was undiminished, 
 though it must be confessed it had received a 
 severe shock. " He'll bring that calf in or I'll 
 kill him tryin'," he said sturdily, and he mounted 
 <c Lite " again and went back. He found the 
 same calf, roped it, and " Lite," after a few futile 
 plunges, dragged it up to the fire, where he stood 
 with heaving, sweat-covered sides while the iron 
 was applied. The hard lesson had been taught 
 and learned for all time. 
 
 " He's got the making of a good cow-horse," 
 admitted Jerry. " But, oh Lord ! such a 
 making! " 
 
 The way John worked the little horse that day 
 would have seemed cruel to a novice, but he in- 
 tended that he should never forget the experi- 
 ence of the morning, and he never did. The 
 last calf was branded at dusk, and by the time 
 this necessary torture was completed poor "Lite " 
 was about done up. 
 
 The bunch was allowed its freedom for another 
 292
 
 A MIDNIGHT STAMPEDE. 
 
 year and the cattle began at once to wander off, 
 the old cows licking the disfigured sides of their 
 offspring, the calves shaking and writhing with 
 pain, failing utterly to understand why they 
 should be tortured thus. The wound soon heals, 
 however, and though the soreness disappears the 
 scar remains always. 
 
 The day's work was over; the coolness of even- 
 ing succeeded the heat of the day; the men 
 stopped work and rode slowly into camp by star- 
 light. 
 
 John and Jerry unsaddled their tired horses and 
 turned them over to the care of the night herder. 
 
 " I'm dead tired, stiff, and sore to-night," said 
 John, as he and his companion hustled for cups 
 and plates in the dish box. 
 
 " It's a dog's life," returned Jerry, taking the 
 cue. " If I'm ever caught on a round-up again 
 I hope they'll tie me on a broncho and turn him 
 loose." He grumbled on as he sipped his steam- 
 ing coffee. 
 
 The two ate heartily and then strolled over to 
 the main camp-fire, where perhaps fifty men lay 
 sprawling upon the ground smoking, talking, and 
 resting. 
 
 "Hullo, there's the three X kid! " some one 
 shouted. " How's the legs, kid? " " How d'ye 
 like astronomy? " said another. 
 293
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 And so the bantering went round, but John 
 took it good-naturedly and even responded in 
 kind. Soon a song was started, but the men 
 were too tired to listen, and the singer stopped 
 for lack of encouragement. About two hours 
 after the day's work had ended all hands were 
 rolled up in their beds and asleep, Jerry ending 
 this first day on the round-up as he began it 
 grumbling. 
 
 " Cow-punching is a job for a Chinaman," said 
 he, dropping off to sleep. It was the most scath- 
 ing condemnation his imagination could frame. 
 
 This was but the first of a succession of days 
 much alike, some easier, some harder, some full 
 of incident and narrow escapes, others less excit- 
 ing. The long dry spell had given way to a 
 series of rainy days that were harder to bear than 
 heat and dust. The wind-driven rain had a pene- 
 trating quality that nothing could withstand. 
 The rider, after being in the rain all day, came 
 into camp to find his bed saturated. The trying 
 weather affected tempers, not only of the men 
 but of their charges, the cattle, as well ; they were 
 nervous and restless, and this was especially true 
 when electricity was in the air. As Jerry had 
 said, it was " regular stampede weather." 
 
 John had seen small bunches of stock break 
 and run, and had followed them over ticklish 
 294
 
 A MIDNIGHT STAMPfiDfi. 
 
 country, but a big stampede had not yet been 
 numbered among his experiences. He had often 
 sat listening to some old veteran of the range tell 
 of the horrors of a midnight stampede, when the 
 great herds became an irresistible torrent of ani- 
 mal life driven on by unreasoning terror. 
 
 He knew that some time he would become an 
 actor in such a scene and dreaded it in antici- 
 pation. 
 
 The sky was threatening when the riders were 
 sent out one day to make the " big circle," as the 
 gathering of cattle was called, a week or so after 
 the organization of the round-up. By the time 
 the bunch was collected it was raining heavily, 
 and at intervals hailstones pelted man and beast 
 viciously. The bunch was large that day, and 
 as the storm continued the ground became too 
 slippery and the cattle too crazy to attempt to 
 work them. Nothing could be done but hold 
 them together until things dried up a bit. The 
 nervousness of the cattle was such that this re- 
 quired the activity of all hands. 
 
 John and Jerry were out in all this stress of 
 weather, and, strange as it may seem, the older 
 cowboy was almost happy: he had a really new 
 and good chance for grumbling. " Even a coy- 
 ote can hunt his hole and keep dry, but a cow- 
 puncher has to sit up straight and take his medi- 
 295
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 cine," said Jerry, almost triumphant in his 
 feeling of just resentment. " The worse the 
 weather the more he has to brave it," he con- 
 tinued. " If I'm ever caught on a round-up " 
 
 " That's the tenth time you've said that to- 
 day," said John, laughing in spite of his own 
 discomfort. Jerry made a queer picture. His 
 long, yellow oilskin slicker reached to his heels 
 and was just running with water; the felt 
 hat that almost entirely obscured his woebe- 
 gone features dripped water down his neck. He 
 looked as forlorn as an equestrian statue deco- 
 rated with cheap bunting and paper flowers and 
 thoroughly water-soaked. 
 
 Everybody was out of humor and no oppor- 
 tunity was lost to register a " kick." 
 
 " Say, you three X men," said the foreman, 
 " scatter out there ; d'yer take this for a conver- 
 sation party? " 
 
 " The horses is stupid and the cattle is worst. 
 If I don't miss my guess there'll be trouble to- 
 night. If ever I get caught in a " Jerry's 
 
 voice died away in a mere growl as he rode off 
 to his post. 
 
 Left alone, John turned his eyes to the sea 
 of backs swirling up and down and around 
 like an eddy in a troubled sea. Even now the 
 half-crazed animals threatened to break through
 
 A MIDNIGHT STAMPEDE. 
 
 the frail line of men and scatter to the four 
 winds. 
 
 And still the driving rain continued. A night 
 in the saddle was inevitable a dreary enough 
 prospect. As evening drew near, flashes of light- 
 ning and peals of thunder added to the terror of 
 the almost unmanageable cattle. 
 
 " Look at 'em steam," said John to himself, 
 as he noted the vapor that rose from the acres 
 of broad backs. " That's bad," said Jerry, as he 
 came within earshot on his beat. " Steam brings 
 down the lightning, men are high on horseback; 
 steel saddles, metal spurs, six-shooters, and 
 buckles make a man liable to catch it," and he 
 disappeared in the mist, droning out as he went 
 a verse of " The Grass of Uncle Sam " to quiet 
 the cattle. It seemed futile to attempt to soothe 
 the creatures by the sound of the human voice 
 they were in a tumult, and the slightest thing 
 would set them off. For an instant there was a 
 lull, and not only Jerry's but the voices of other 
 riders could be distinctly heard singing and call- 
 ing quietly to the cattle. 
 
 Suddenly there came a fearful flash directly 
 overhead and streams of liquid fire seemed to 
 flow in every direction. This was followed im- 
 mediately by a tremendous clap of thunder. The 
 effect was instantaneous. Each animal seemed 
 297
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 to be possessed of a demon and rushed headlong 
 in whichever direction its head happened to be 
 pointed. In an instant the orderly herd was 
 changed to a panic-stricken rout, and the riders 
 were swept irresistibly with it. The lightning 
 flash was blinding, and the darkness which en- 
 sued was intense; through this men and beast 
 rushed pell-mell without a pause, recklessly. 
 
 John, with the other riders, was in the very 
 midst of the mad, surging creatures, their eyes 
 rolling in a perfect frenzy of fear, their very 
 breaths in his face, their horns rattling together 
 close beside and in front of him. It was every 
 man for himself, but even in the midst of this 
 frightful chaos the cow-puncher's sole thought 
 was for his stock. John looked for a bunch to 
 follow to follow to death if need be, but if pos- 
 sible stop it. That was the plan in John's mind, 
 but it seemed utterly impossible of fulfilment. 
 There was no bunch ; each animal for once went 
 off on its own hook and the confusion was fearful. 
 
 " I'll follow one then," said John to himself. 
 Then to his horse : " Stand up now, old ' Lite.' If 
 you fall you're a goner." 
 
 One big steer alongside ran strongly, and John 
 let " Lite " know that it in particular was to be 
 followed. He couldn't be seen in the darkness, 
 but " Lite " could smell him and kept at his flank.
 
 A MIDNIGHT STAMPEDE. 
 
 Away they went through mud and sage brush, 
 over badger holes and boggy places. What 
 lay in their path was a mystery, but " Lite " 
 stuck to his leader like a leech. There was no 
 time to reckon chances, if such a thing were 
 possible. 
 
 As vapor forms into raindrops, the running 
 cattle began to draw together into groups which 
 enlarged momentarily. John was now follow- 
 ing one of these groups, but in the pitchy dark- 
 ness he could not tell how many it numbered. 
 As pursued and pursuers rushed on, the smooth, 
 rolling prairie was left behind, and rough, broken 
 country was encountered. Up steep-sided gul- 
 lies they struggled and down slippery hillsides 
 they scrambled after the terror-stricken cattle. 
 " ISJow's our chance," said John, speaking, as was 
 his wont under strong excitement, to his horse 
 and patting his neck in encouragement for the 
 supreme effort that was to come. He spurred 
 to the front and began to turn the leaders around. 
 He struck them on the nose with his quirt, 
 slapped them with his hat, and yelled at them. 
 
 Slowly one leader, then another, turned; others 
 immediately behind followed, until the leader 
 caught up with the tail of the bunch and round 
 they went in a circle. " They're milling beauti- 
 fully now, ' Lite/ " said John to his horse again.
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 " We'll keep 'em at it till they're too tired for 
 funny business." 
 
 The circle gradually slowed to a trot, then a 
 walk, then stopped altogether. The cattle were 
 utterly exhausted, heads down, sides heaving and 
 steaming. 
 
 John leaned over in his saddle and patted his 
 little horse affectionately. His feeling was one 
 of fondness mixed with gratitude for the pony 
 whose wiry limbs, sure feet, good bottom and in- 
 telligence had carried him safely through a diffi- 
 cult and dangerous duty. He thought of what 
 had passed, and marvelled that he was alive. To 
 make such a journey amid the tossing horns and 
 thundering feet of the cattle, over treacherous 
 ground, in total darkness, seemed an impossible 
 feat, and yet here were horse and rider covered 
 with mud, saturated with water, almost unbear- 
 ably weary, it is true, but without a scratch. 
 John began to realize the danger, now it had 
 passed, and appreciated the fact that to his game 
 little horse was his safety due. " Lite " received 
 the caressing pat on his nose and the words of 
 praise his master gave him with commendable 
 modesty. 
 
 The cattle were willing now to stand and rest; 
 they all were trembling with fear and exhaus- 
 tion and seemed in no condition to continue their 
 300
 
 A MIDNIGHT STAMPEDE. 
 
 flight. " Lite," too, was pretty well done up, so 
 John dismounted and unsaddled him; then, after 
 putting one blanket over him, he wrapped him- 
 self in the other and lay down in the mud to 
 sleep. It was cold and sopping wet, but John's 
 inward satisfaction made outward discomfort 
 trivial. 
 
 The hours were long before daylight longer, 
 the boy thought, than he ever knew them to be 
 before. He was glad enough when the sun 
 came and he was able to size up his capture. 
 They numbered fifty head, and proud enough 
 he was. 
 
 "Lite" was feeding near; at John's call he 
 came up and, without his usual capers, allowed 
 himself to be saddled. The two started the bunch 
 toward camp weary, hungry, sleepy, wet, and 
 cold, but triumphant. 
 
 " My first stampede and back with fifty head," 
 said John to his horse. " Not bad work, and I 
 couldn't have done it but for you." 
 
 The storm had spent itself during the night 
 and morning broke gloriously fine. John and 
 Lightning kept the cattle going as fast as their 
 strength would allow, which was all too slow for 
 the boy, who was anxious to show his work to 
 Jerry his chum, his friend and counsellor, 
 Jerry the grumbler, the good-hearted. He knew 
 301
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 that he would appreciate it, though he might 
 joke. 
 
 As the bunch appeared on a little rise a short 
 distance from camp, a horseman galloped out to 
 meet them and to help drive them into camp. 
 " Hullo, kid ! " said the man, when he got within 
 earshot. " You've done pretty well; biggest 
 bunch that's come in yet." 
 
 " Oh, I've had a great old time," John began 
 jubilantly, feeling as if he had not seen a human 
 being for a month and must talk. " See that big 
 spotted steer there, leadin'? Well, I follered 
 that feller eight miles in the dark last night 
 an' he set me a red-hot pace, you bet but 
 the buckskin here," patting " Lite's mud- 
 spattered shoulder, " followed him close all the 
 way." 
 
 " Well, you look it ; got enough mud on yer to 
 weigh down a team of iron horses." 
 
 " How many cattle back? " asked John. 
 
 " Only 'bout half the bunch." 
 
 " That's too bad," sympathized the boy. 
 
 " That's not the worst." 
 
 The man stopped, and John noticed for the 
 first time a peculiar expression on his face. 
 
 " What's the matter? " said he. 
 
 " One of your men " he hesitated. 
 
 "Well?"
 
 A MIDNIGHT STAMPEDE. 
 
 " One of your men," he repeated, " went down 
 last night." 
 
 " It wasn't Jerry? " cried John anxiously, hav- 
 ing a premonition suddenly of something dread- 
 ful. " Say it wasn't Jerry! " 
 
 " Yes, it was Jerry." The man spoke the 
 words slowly and solemnly. " Horse's leg went 
 into a badger hole and the cattle trampled him."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 AN AWAKENING. 
 
 It was a terrible shock to the boy, and for a 
 few moments he seemed dazed as if by a physical 
 blow. He had come into camp weary of body 
 but light and gay of heart, full of triumph, sure 
 of a half -chaffing word of commendation from his 
 friend and comrade. But that friend had met 
 a horrible death. John's heart sank like lead, 
 and for the time the light went out of the sky 
 for him. There was no joy, no sunshine, no 
 future Jerry was dead! 
 
 " Where is he? " John asked of the man who 
 brought him the sad news. 
 
 " In camp," was the answer. 
 
 John was in haste to go to his friend, yet he 
 dreaded it with all his soul. He forgot his tri- 
 umph, his pride in his horse, his weariness, in the 
 one thought that filled his mind " Jerry is 
 dead! " 
 
 " So Jerry, great, strong, experienced Jerry, 
 on his big bay went down, and I, neither 
 304
 
 AN AWAKENING. 
 
 strong nor wise, am safe and well," John solilo- 
 quized. 
 
 In a minute or two they entered camp, and 
 John's first question was " Where? " 
 
 The cook nodded toward a bed outspread in the 
 shade of a wagon. 
 
 Mr. Baker, the ranchman, was there, and as 
 John reached the place he pulled back the canvas 
 covering. The boy never forgot the sight that 
 met his view. Jerry it was, certainly, but almost 
 unrecognizable. 
 
 John sat down by him, overcome by his 
 first great grief. Death he had seen many times, 
 horrible deaths some of them, but none had 
 come so close as this. Cook, perceiving his 
 plight, brought him a cup of steaming hot 
 coffee, well knowing that it would put heart into 
 him. 
 
 " Mr. Baker," said John at length, " he's got 
 to be buried some place where the coyotes can't 
 get at him." 
 
 " But it's sixty miles to the ranch," objected 
 the ranchman. 
 
 " That's nothing. Let me have a team and a 
 wagon and I'll get him there." 
 
 After some demur, which John finally over- 
 came, Mr. Baker allowed him to take a big wagon 
 and a four-horse team. 
 
 20 305
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 The body was laid in reverently, the horses 
 harnessed and hitched up. Just as John was 
 about to take up the reins Mr. Baker came for- 
 ward. " I guess I'll go with you, Worth," he 
 said. " Round-up's most finished and I can do 
 more good at home." 
 
 He climbed into the seat of the big covered 
 wagon as he spoke; and after tying Lightning 
 alongside the wheel horse, John took up the lines. 
 The punchers stood round, hats off, their weather- 
 beaten faces grave and full of concern. All of 
 them realized that this might have been their 
 fate. Their rough hearts, accustomed as they 
 were to all the chances of the dangerous life, were 
 full of grief for the loss of their companion, "who 
 was and is not." 
 
 " So long ! " they said a farewell to living 
 and dead. 
 
 The whip cracked, the leaders jumped, and in 
 a few minutes the white top of the wagon sank 
 out of sight behind a rise. The sixty-mile funeral 
 journey had begun. 
 
 For some time employer and employee sat si- 
 lent side by side. John's hands were busy with 
 the four fresh horses he was guiding, and his 
 mind with the real sorrow that filled it. He had 
 never known Mr. Baker well; that familiar rela- 
 tion, unknown in the East, between employer
 
 AJUT A WAKENING. 
 
 and employed was prevented by John's absence 
 on the range, but the boy was grateful for the 
 kindness Mr. Baker had shown him. 
 
 " How long have you known Jerry, Worth? " 
 the ranchman asked at length, touched by the 
 boy's grief, and his interest aroused. 
 
 " Since I've worked for you only," was the 
 answer. " Some people you never take to and 
 some you know and like right off; Jerry was that 
 kind. He always stood by me in quarrels, and 
 many's the time he's stood a double watch 'cause 
 he knew I was tired and he didn't want to wake 
 me up. Yes, he stood by me through thick and 
 thin." 
 
 " He was a good hand, too," interpolated Mr. 
 Baker. 
 
 " He'd have divided his last dollar with me," 
 continued John, more 'to himself than to his 
 hearer. " I'd have done the same with him." 
 
 All this time they were travelling at full speed. 
 The four horses yanked the heavy wagon along 
 steadily over gullies and ridges, through valleys, 
 and over hilltops. 
 
 A couple of hours passed in this way, during 
 which John slowed the horses down over the 
 rocky places and urged them forward where it 
 was smooth. 
 
 " What are you going to do with your money, 
 307
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 Worth ? " said Mr. Baker, hoping to dispel some 
 of the sadness that hung over the boy. " You've 
 not spent much this year, have you ? " 
 
 " 'Bout three hundred dollars, I guess. Jerry 
 and I thought of starting in with a little bunch 
 
 of cows on our own hook, but The glance 
 
 that John gave over his shoulder into the wagon 
 finished the sentence. 
 
 "Did you ever think of going to school?" 
 asked the ranchman, intent on his effort to divert 
 the boy's thoughts. 
 
 " No, I saw a dude feller one time that had 
 been to school all his life " John spoke con- 
 temptuously " and I'd rather punch cows all 
 my days than be like him." 
 
 "Why? He might have been a poor specimen. 
 My son would have been a lawyer if he had lived, 
 and I w T ould a great deal rather have him one 
 than a cow-puncher." 
 
 John shook his head, unconvinced. A vision 
 came to him of streets walled in on each side by 
 buildings so that every thoroughfare was a canon 
 and every room a prison. The joy of wild free- 
 dom, fraught though it was with danger and hard 
 work, tingled in his veins. 
 
 " You know if you stay on the range," con- 
 tinued Mr. Baker, " it's only a question of time 
 when you'll be stiffened and broken down, or
 
 AN AWAKENING. 
 
 else, what may be better, you'll be caught as 
 Jerry was. If you keep on punching cows all 
 your life nothing will be left behind showing 
 that you've been in the world but a pine plank 
 set in the ground." 
 
 For a time John's thoughts were as busy as 
 his hands. A new idea had been presented to 
 him his future. What would he do with it? 
 He loved the wild, free life he was now leading, 
 and up to this time he had never thought of work- 
 ing for something higher and more lasting. Mr. 
 Baker had stirred a part of him that had long 
 lain dormant ambition. His plans heretofore 
 had seldom carried him further than a few days 
 or weeks, his sole care was to do his duty and 
 keep his job; but now he had a new care his 
 future. 
 
 The horses jogged along steadily over the 
 rough country, their driver getting every bit of 
 speed out of them that would allow them to last 
 the journey through. Most of the time Light- 
 ning went alongside the wheel horse contentedly. 
 "With particular perversity, however, as the team 
 was passing through a narrow place, where there 
 was barely enough room to pass, Lightning began 
 a spirited altercation with his side partner. He 
 shied off from him, pushed him, and bit at him 
 till he in turn retaliated. For a time John had 
 309
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 his hands full, but " Lite," in his efforts to kick 
 holes in the unoffending side of the wheel horse, 
 got tangled in the harness, and so stopped the 
 whole business. His master extricated him with 
 difficulty, and " Lite," instead of getting the pun- 
 ishment he so richly deserved, was petted instead, 
 whereupon he became very good indeed and 
 rubbed his nose affectionately against John's 
 sleeve, as much as to say : " I'm sorry. I'll never 
 do it again." 
 
 " It seems to me," said Mr. Baker, after they 
 had got started again, " that a fellow that could 
 tame such a wicked brute as that horse was a few 
 months ago could master anything, books or any- 
 thing else." 
 
 "Oh, I've read some books," said John eagerly, 
 " and I thought I knew something till that dude 
 feller told all about the things he knew. But 
 that chap couldn't ride a sway-backed cow," and 
 John smiled, sad as he was, at the thought. 
 
 " You struck a poor sample," the ranchman 
 responded. " He saw you could beat him physi- 
 cally, so he tried to get even with you mentally." 
 
 For a time they rode along in silence, the boy 
 busy with his own thoughts, which Mr. Baker 
 was wise enough not to interrupt. 
 
 At length Smith Creek, the halfway mark of 
 their journey, was reached, and they stopped for 
 310
 
 AN AWAKENING. 
 
 water, rest, and food. The horses were unhar- 
 nessed and allowed to feed a while. Thirty miles 
 had been covered in less than five hours thirty 
 miles of diversified country, hill and plain, rock 
 and mud. The road was not worthy of the name, 
 it was merely a wheel track more or less distinct. 
 
 John was restless, the short hour of relief al- 
 lowed the faithful beasts seemed long to him, and 
 he was more at ease when they were spinning 
 along the trail again. He had been living on 
 his nerve all the morning and the strain was be- 
 ginning to tell. 
 
 Soon Mr. Baker began to talk again. He was 
 interested in the young companion by his side, 
 this boy so filled with determination, so ener- 
 getic and forceful and yet so abounding in 
 loyalty and affection, as his grief over Jerry's 
 death and his fondness for his horse testified; this 
 boy who read books and yet had such a whole- 
 souled contempt of affected learning as evidenced 
 by his ill-concealed disdain of the Eastern 
 " dude." " You've never been East," began the 
 ranchman, " or to school ? " 
 
 " No. I was born in Bismarck, North Da- 
 kota," was the answer. " It must be queer," he 
 added after a pause, and a smile lit up his tired 
 face. " There's lots of women there, they say, 
 and the men get their hair cut every month ; the 
 311
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 people have to always dress for dinner, the paper 
 novels say, and everybody goes to school." 
 
 Mr. Baker smiled at this description of the life 
 and manners of the East, and kept plying the 
 boy with questions, put kindly, until he had 
 learned pretty much all there was to know about 
 him. It was long since John had had so much 
 interest shown him, and it warmed his heart; it 
 was specially grateful at this time, when he felt 
 that he had lost a tried and true friend. The 
 ranchman advised him to work out the year and 
 save his money, and at the end of that time doff 
 his cowboy clothes and manners, array himself 
 in a " boiled shirt," enter some good-sized town, 
 and go to school and church. 
 
 John was rather dubious about this ; " muscle 
 work," as he called it, work requiring a quick 
 eye, a strong will, and the ability to endure, he 
 knew he could do, but about brain work and 
 book learning he was not so confident. The idea 
 of wearing a " boiled shirt " made him smile. 
 
 " Those stiff-bellied things the dudes wear," 
 said he derisively. " Me wear one of those 
 things ! " and he laughed aloud at the thought. 
 
 Nevertheless the serious idea took deep root, 
 and while he did not make any promises he had 
 a half-formed resolve to follow the old ranch- 
 man's advice. 
 
 312
 
 AN A WAKENING. 
 
 All this time the horses jogged along more and 
 more wearily, and requiring more and more urg- 
 ing from the youngster on the driver's seat. The 
 last ten miles seemed endless; it was all John 
 could do to keep the team going, and even tireless 
 Lightning running alongside moved unsteadily 
 with fatigue. 
 
 They were glad enough when the ranch build- 
 ings appeared dimly in the fast-deepening gloom. 
 The sixty-mile drive was ended at last. When 
 the wagon entered the ranch yard John almost 
 fell into the arms of one of the men who had 
 come to find out the cause of this unusually late 
 arrival. It was Mr. Baker who told what the 
 wagon contained and the story of Jerry's death. 
 
 John dragged himself to a hastily improvised 
 bed, and, dropping down on it, was asleep in a 
 twinkling; the first rest for thirty-six long fa- 
 tiguing hours. 
 
 Late the next day he was awakened to attend 
 Jerry's funeral. It was a very simple ceremony, 
 but the evident sincerity of the mourners' grief 
 made it impressive. He was laid away on a 
 grassy knoll where several other good men and 
 true had been buried by their comrades. A rude 
 rail fence enclosed the spot the long resting 
 place of men who had died in the performance 
 of their duty. 
 
 313
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 For a time things went sadly at the ranch, for 
 John (he did not rejoin the round-up) missed his 
 cow-puncher friend, his good-natured grumbling, 
 his ever-ready helping hand. But gradually 
 the boy's faculty of making firm, loyal friends 
 helped to fill the gap that Jerry's death had 
 made, though no one could ever take his place. 
 
 Mr. Baker's talk about school and a future took 
 deep root, and as the boy turned the idea over in 
 his mind it developed into a resolve to try it 
 anyway. 
 
 Life had a new meaning now for John, and 
 he found it absorbingly interesting. The work 
 he had to do was a means to an end, and the 
 commonplace, every-day drudgery became sim- 
 ply a cog in the machinery, and therefore not 
 only bearable but interesting. 
 
 The boy's success as a breaker of horses kept 
 him much of the time at that work. Since he 
 had broken Lightning all other horses seemed 
 tame to him in comparison. It was part of his 
 work not only to break the horses to the saddle 
 but to care for them generally, brand the colts, 
 and train them for cow-pony work, as well as to 
 guard them by day and night. On these long 
 day rides over the rolling prairie and bleak, fan- 
 tastically shaped and colored " bad lands " he 
 would take a piece of a book in his pocket, and 
 314
 
 AN AWAKENING. 
 
 when an opportunity occurred read it. He read 
 many books this way, tearing out and taking a 
 few pages in his pocket each day. Mr. Baker 
 was fond of reading, and understood the value of 
 education ; he had some books, and the less valu- 
 able ones he gave to his protege; these and the 
 few John had been able to pick up from outfits 
 he met and during the infrequent visits to a town 
 formed his text books. 
 
 As he thought and read and studied he became 
 more and more convinced that cowboy life was 
 not for him: to know more about the things he 
 had read a few scraps about, to gain a place in 
 the world, to learn something and achieve some- 
 thing was now his firm resolve. 
 
 The summer, fall, and early winter went by 
 quickly for the boy. Each season had its own 
 peculiar duties and dangers the round-up and 
 branding, the driving of the steers to the railroad 
 for the Eastern market (a serious undertaking, 
 involving as it might the loss of valuable cattle 
 through injury and drowning when fording 
 streams), the cutting of hay for the weaker 
 cattle and horses, and occasional hunting trips for 
 fresh meat. And so the year wore round. 
 
 On New Year's day John's time was up the 
 time which he had set to start out to seek his 
 fortune. He had saved more than a year's earn- 
 315
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 ings, so the small capitalist saddled Lightning, 
 bade his friends good-by, and set forth, not with- 
 out some misgivings, on a new quest: to get 
 knowledge, see the world, and, if it might be, 
 grasp his share of its honors. 
 
 316
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A TRANSFORMATION. 
 
 The love of adventure that possesses the soul 
 of most boys was not a characteristic of John 
 Worth. An adventurous life he had always led 
 and thought nothing of it; it was too common- 
 place to be remarkable to him. This starting 
 forth in search of knowledge, this seeking of the 
 " dude " and his ways in his own haunts, was an 
 entirely different matter; it was almost terrify- 
 'ing, and he was half inclined to turn back. To 
 mix with men who wore white " boiled " shirts 
 habitually, who dressed and went down to dinner, 
 and who did all sorts of things strange to the 
 frontier, seemed to John a trying ordeal, and he 
 dreaded it. 
 
 He had no definite plan, for he could not quite 
 realize what lay before him. A cowboy merely 
 he would not be; he now felt that there was a 
 larger place that he could fill, and he knew that 
 this could be reached only through education. 
 317
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 A sound body and brain, enough money to last 
 till spring, a good horse to carry him, and a 
 strong resolve to get somewhere were his pos- 
 sessions. 
 
 For ten days he and Lightning wandered 
 around from one settlement to another, from 
 town to town; he was enjoying his freedom to the 
 utmost, so much so in fact that none of the towns 
 he passed through suited him. Finally he woke 
 up to the fact that he was avoiding a decision, 
 and he pulled himself up with a round turn. 
 
 " Here, John Worth," he said to himself, 
 " you're afraid to begin ; any of those towns 
 would have done." 
 
 He was in the open when he came to himself, 
 riding along on a good horse, dressed in a com- 
 plete outfit of cowboy finery, fringed chaps, good, 
 broad-brimmed felt hat, heavy, well-fitting rid- 
 ing gloves, and silver spurs, the envy of every 
 man he met. 
 
 For the second time a storm helped to decide 
 his destiny, for as he rode along the sky became 
 overcast and soon the snow began to fall heavily. 
 " Come, ' Lite,' let's get out of this," he said to his 
 only companion; and heading the pony toward 
 
 the place where he knew - was located, 
 
 he urged him forward. Just before dark he 
 
 reached , and after finding a stable put 
 
 318
 
 A TRANSFORMATION. 
 
 up at a neat little hotel near by. Even if lie had 
 wished to go on to some other place he could not 
 now, for the storm developed into a regular bliz- 
 zard, which prevented man or beast from ven- 
 turing outside the town limits. John soon turned 
 to the hotel keeper, a loquacious individual who 
 believed in his town and could sound its praises 
 as well as any real-estate boomer. 
 
 " Schools? " in answer to one of John's in- 
 quiries. " Schools ? Why, we've got one of the 
 best schools in Montana; higher'n a high school! 
 Schools and churches we're great on schools 
 and churches." 
 
 He took his cue from John's questions; he 
 could discourse just as eloquently about the 
 shady part of the town, its slums, its dives, and 
 dance halls; there was nothing in that town that 
 should not be there and everything that was de- 
 sirable at least that was the impression this 
 worthy strove to convey. 
 
 " Schools and churches," said John to himself. 
 " That's what Mr. Baker said I must hitch up 
 to." 
 
 For several days the blizzard continued, so 
 long in fact that John grew restless and longed 
 for something to do. He had about decided that 
 he did not like this town and thought he would 
 move on as soon as the weather permitted. 
 319
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 One day the landlord was declaiming earnestly 
 on the merits of the town and its institutions. 
 
 " Now, there's the academy/' said he. " Now 
 that academy is 
 
 " What's an academy? " interrupted John. 
 
 " Oh, that's a place where they teach you 
 things." 
 
 " What kind of things? " persisted John. 
 
 " Reading and arithmetic and geography and 
 here's Gray, he'll tell you all about it, he goes 
 there. Henry, come here a minute," he shouted. 
 
 A young man in overalls, well sprinkled with 
 ashes, and carrying a fire shovel appeared. 
 
 The landlord introduced them and told Gray 
 that John was looking for information about the 
 academy. Then he went off, leaving them to- 
 gether. 
 
 " Well," said Gray, a slight, dark-haired, 
 bright-eyed, thoughtful fellow, after some pre- 
 liminary talk, " you begin with arithmetic ; then 
 comes algebra, then geometry and trigonometry 
 in mathematics ; the languages are Latin, Greek, 
 French, and German." 
 
 The mere recital of these things was enough 
 to scare John, who had scarcely heard the names 
 before. When Gray went on to enlarge on the 
 fine course of study the academy afforded, as a 
 loyal student should, his hearer was appalled by 
 320
 
 A TRANSFORMATION. 
 
 the amount of learning necessary even to enter 
 a school, and feared the ranch after all was the 
 place for him. 
 
 " Some of the fellows are good workers," Gray 
 went on, " but some do nothing but talk to the 
 girls." 
 
 "Girls!" thought John. "So girls go to 
 school with the boys here." This boy, who had 
 hardly seen a girl, was terrified at the idea of 
 being brought into such close association with 
 them he was quite sure now the ranch was the 
 place for him. 
 
 That night he made tip his mind to go back to 
 Mr. Baker and ask for his old job, but the next 
 morning was no better than the preceding ones. 
 
 For lack of something better to do, after much 
 persuasion on Gray's part, he went with him to 
 the academy. 
 
 The things he saw there were as strange to 
 him as they would be to an Esquimau. 
 
 An old-fashioned school of one hundred and 
 fifty students seated at rows of desks, the boys on 
 one side of the room, the girls on the other. The 
 principal sat at one end, surrounded by black- 
 boards. Gray found a seat for John at the back 
 of the room, out of the range of curious eyes, and 
 he sat there and watched and listened wonder- 
 ingly. 
 
 91 321
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 The classes went tip and recited one by one 
 or demonstrated mathematical problems on the 
 blackboards. John heard with amazement 
 youngsters answer questions which he could not 
 comprehend at all, and yet he noticed that their 
 faces were care-free and happy, as if they had 
 never known what trouble was. The faces he 
 knew, young and old, bore distinctly the traces 
 of care and hardship. He was intensely in- 
 terested and enjoyed the whole session keenly. 
 
 When noon came, Gray approached, as he 
 thought, to return to the hotel with him, but to 
 his surprise he was marched up to the principal's 
 desk and introduced to Professor Marston. John 
 was awe-stricken, but the principal knew boys 
 thoroughly, and soon put him at his ease. 
 
 "Will you come with us? " asked Mr. Mars- 
 ton after a w y hile. 
 
 " I wanted to, but I guess not now." Some- 
 how John's resolve seemed rather foolish in the 
 presence of this kindly faced man with the high 
 forehead. 
 
 " Why? What is the trouble? " 
 
 " Oh, I changed my mind." 
 
 "What's your reason?" persisted the profes- 
 sor. " You don't look like a fellow who changes 
 his mind with every wind." 
 
 His manner was so kindly, his interest so evi- 
 322
 
 A TRANSFORMATION. 
 
 dent, that John let go his reserve and told of his 
 ambitions and hopes and then of the futility, as 
 he thought, of a fellow at his age beginning at 
 the very lowest rung of the ladder when boys 
 much younger than he were so far advanced. 
 This applied not only to actual schooling but to 
 all the little things wherein he saw he was dif- 
 ferent from these town-dwelling youngsters. 
 
 Mr. Marston was interested. He invited John 
 to call and see him after school. " I think we 
 shall be able to talk our way out of this diffi- 
 culty," he said, as the boy bade him good-by. 
 
 At the appointed hour John appeared, eager 
 to be convinced but altogether dubious. Pro- 
 fessor Marston received him cordially, and, tak- 
 ing him into his private office, talked to him 
 " like a Dutch uncle," as John assured Gray 
 afterwards. He spoke to him out of his own 
 wide experience, told him of men who had 
 worked themselves up to a high place from small 
 beginnings by determination and hard work. 
 He showed John that he believed he could do 
 the same, and finally brought back the confi- 
 dence in himself which for a time had been ban- 
 ished. 
 
 " How did you come out ? " called Gray as 
 John burst into the hotel, his face beaming, his 
 eyes alight confidence in every gesture.
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 " Bully ! " exclaimed he. " I'm going to start 
 right in." 
 
 " That's the way to talk," said his friend, de- 
 lighted at his good spirits. 
 
 " Professor Marston is going to help me, and 
 I'm to get some one to night-herd me; between 
 the two I'm going to round up all those things 
 and put my brand on 'em. I mean," he hastened 
 to explain, as he realized that Gray might not be 
 up on all the cow-punchers' phrases, " I hope to 
 put away in my mind some of the things that go 
 to make up book-learning." 
 
 Whereupon Gray volunteered to act as his 
 night-herder, as John called his tutor. The offer 
 was gladly accepted, and the two went out to get 
 the school books which Mr. Marston had recom- 
 mended. 
 
 John's first day was, as he expected, an ordeal. 
 
 324
 
 A TRANSFORMATION. 
 
 He was sensitive, and it tried his soul to stand up 
 with the primary class he almost a full-grown 
 man. He heard the remarks spoken in an under- x s* 3 
 tone that passed from lip to lip when he stepped ^- 
 forward with the youngsters, and he would have 
 been glad to be able to get his hands on the whis- 
 perers and bang their heads together; but he 
 only shut his firm jaws together a little tighter, li 
 clinched his hands, and drew his breath hard. 
 
 He did not even know the multiplication table, 
 but under Gray's coaching he picked it up very 
 rapidly. Mr. Marston made everything as easy 
 for him as possible, and under the considerate aid 
 of these two he made great strides in his mental 
 training. His application and capacity for work 
 was tremendous, and the amount he got through 
 quite astonished his teachers. 
 
 The jeers of his schoolmates, however, not al- 
 ways suppressed, drove him more and more to 
 himself. Gray, Professor Marston, and " Lite " 
 were his only companions. " Lite " was now liv- 
 ing in clover; never in his short life had he 
 imagined such ease, so much provender, and so 
 little work; he was therefore fat and exceedingly 
 lively, so that when John was astride of him his 
 master was able to show his schoolmates his abso- 
 lute superiority in one thing at least. 
 
 As he advanced in his studies and demon- 
 325
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 strated his ability as a horseman and a boxer (he 
 soon had an opportunity to show that he knew 
 how to " put up his hands ") the respect of his 
 schoolmates increased at least that of the boys 
 did but it was only the kindly glances from one 
 girl's big soft eyes that saved the whole of girl- 
 kind from complete repudiation on his part. 
 
 John's first visit to a church was an event that 
 he did not soon forget. It was at Professor 
 Marston's invitation. He came early, and as he 
 told Gray afterward : " The millionaire took me 
 clear up front. My clothes were stiff and my 
 shoes squeaked, and I know everyone in the place 
 was looking my way." The music was strange 
 to him ; the only thing familiar was " Old Hun- 
 dred," and even that " had frills on it," he as- 
 serted. The form of service was new and the 
 good clothes of both men and women oppressed 
 him. The sermon, however, he could and did 
 appreciate. A sermon was the only part of a 
 religious service he had ever listened to. From 
 time to time hardy missionaries A'isited the cow- 
 camps and sheep-ranches, and he had often been 
 one of the congregation that, rough though they 
 were, and little as they appreciated what they 
 heard, listened respectfully to the good man's 
 sermon. John had often on such occasions, 
 after the preacher had finished and gone away, 
 326
 
 A TRANSFORMATION. 
 
 mounted on the wagon tongue and repreached 
 the sermon, using his own words but the same 
 ideas. He was therefore able to appreciate and 
 enjoy this sermon preached in what seemed to 
 him a most elaborate house of worship. This 
 was his first attendance at a " fancy church," and 
 it was the last open one for a long time. In the 
 evening he was wont to steal in, in time to hear 
 the sermon, he excusing himself thus : " I can't 
 do it all at once; I'll have to learn their ways 
 first." 
 
 The dinner at Professor Marston's which fol- 
 lowed his first church-going was a red-letter oc- 
 casion of another kind. John's earnestness and 
 sincerity always made friends for him, and he 
 speedily won the heart of Mrs. Marston. She 
 took great interest in the boy and gave him many 
 hints as to the ways of civilized life, so tactfully 
 that he could feel only gratitude. 
 
 He left her home full of content; he had dis- 
 covered a new phase of life to him a heretofore 
 closed book the " home beautiful." 
 
 John Worth was a good student, a hard, con- 
 scientious worker, and with the aid of his friend 
 Gray and his instructor he made more and more 
 rapid progress. As spring advanced, he began to 
 hear talk about " vacation " a word the mean- 
 ing of which was strange to him. 
 827
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 When lie found out what it was he wondered 
 what new wrinkle would be " sprung " on him 
 next. But it was a serious thing to him; he 
 could not afford to stay in town and do nothing 
 he wanted to keep on with his work. 
 
 Professor Marston called him into his office 
 just before school closed, and after learning of 
 his difficulty suggested that he get a job during 
 the summer and come back to school in the fall, 
 when he would give him work that would pay his 
 necessary expenses while he kept on with studies. 
 John's heart was filled with gratitude, but his 
 benefactor would not listen to his thanks, and 
 bade him good-by and good luck. 
 
 The boy went away thinking he was indeed in 
 luck. The only trouble was to secure a job for 
 the summer. This problem was speedily solved 
 by Gray, who proposed that they should try to 
 join a party of tourists that were to visit Yellow- 
 stone Park, and act as guides and guards. To 
 their great joy they were able to accomplish this, 
 and soon after the commencement festivities they 
 rode out with the tourist outfit. John always 
 had pleasure in remembering one of the number, 
 a fearless, undaunted rider who won his admira- 
 tion then, and still more later, when he became 
 Colonel Roosevelt of the " Rough Riders." John 
 in his old cowboy dress and mounted on Light- 
 328
 
 A TRANSFORMATION. 
 
 ning was happy enough; as for the horse, he 
 fairly bubbled over with joy and gladness. He 
 showed it in his usual unconventional fashion 
 by trying to throw John " into the middle of next 
 week," but his master understood him well and 
 took all his pranks good-naturedly, sitting in the 
 saddle as if it was an every-day occurrence and 
 not worth bothering about. 
 
 The boy's leech-like riding attracted the atten- 
 tion of his employers at once and especially one 
 a young Easterner named Sherman, who was 
 a college man. 
 
 The summer's experience was a very pleasant 
 one; compared to the work and hardship that 
 John had formerly endured this was child's play. 
 
 On the long summer evenings young Sherman 
 would often join John while he was keeping his 
 vigil over the saddle stock, and they would have 
 long talks, John telling of his experiences with 
 Indians, cattle, and horses, while Sherman m 
 turn told of college life, its advantages and pleas- 
 ures, and the hard work connected with it. 
 
 Shortly before the time set for the return of 
 the party, Sherman, who had learned to respect 
 and like John greatly, said : " Suppose you study 
 hard next fall and spring and prepare for college. 
 If you can bone up enough to pass the examina- 
 tions I think I can get you a scholarship."
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 The proposition took John's breath away, but 
 he was not the kind of a boy to be " stumped/' 
 and when they separated he assured Sherman 
 that he'd do " some tall trying." 
 
 The party of tourists among whom John was 
 soon broke up. Sherman went East after exact- 
 ing a promise from John to "carry out that deal." 
 
 John returned to and to the acad- 
 emy, his path now marked out clearly before him 
 and a prize worth striving for at the end. 
 
 830
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 TWELVE HUNDRED MILES AWHEEL TO COLLEGE. 
 
 The academy reopened with some new pupils 
 and many old ones. John shook hands with his 
 few friends, glad to get back, and, with firm de- 
 termination to carry out the purpose that now 
 possessed him, started to work. 
 
 Professor Marston kept his word about the 
 winter job, and John was duly installed as janitor 
 of the building, with opportunity to make extra 
 pay by sawing wood and doing errands. 
 
 He was fully occupied, as may well be imag- 
 ined, and poor Lightning, though sure of good 
 care, missed the companionship that both he and 
 his master delighted in. John foresaw that he 
 would not be able to keep the horse, and he finally 
 decided what to do with him. He would give 
 him his freedom. 
 
 One day the boy took him out on the prairie 
 some distance from the town. 
 
 " Lite, old boy," he began, rubbing his nose 
 and patting him, " we've had good and bad times 
 331
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 together, and we've been good friends, but we've 
 got to separate now." 
 
 He took off the saddle and bridle : " Take care 
 of yourself, old boy." 
 
 The horse looked at him a moment inquir- 
 ingly; then curvetted around a minute in high 
 glee; but as he saw his much-loved master leav- 
 ing him he turned and followed, refusing to be 
 cast off. " Go back, Lite," John commanded, 
 waving his hat to scare him. " Go back ! " But 
 the little horse refused to leave him, and followed 
 him back to town, where he was taken in and 
 petted again. John was touched to the heart by 
 this loyalty and affection. 
 
 Next day a stableman took him out among 
 the range horses and dismissed him. This time 
 he stayed, and John never saw or heard of him 
 afterward. 
 
 That was a wrench. 
 
 Lightning gone, John allowed himself no 
 pleasures, but instead took every bit of work 
 that came his way, whether it yielded money or 
 knowledge. 
 
 He joined the Debating Society and made it a 
 duty to do his best when called upon. Toward 
 spring, as wood sawing became scarce, he took to 
 delivering morning papers to the more distant 
 parts of town; and in order to do this more 
 332
 
 TWELVE HUNDRED MILES AWHEEL. 
 
 quickly he hired an old bicycle, learned to ride it, 
 and made his rounds just after daybreak on that. 
 So he was able to get back to the school house and 
 study a while before opening up. 
 
 " I don't see how you do it all, Worth," said 
 Professor Marston. 
 
 " Well, I couldn't, I guess, if I didn't have a 
 big stake to work for. If I keep my present 
 school work up and study this summer I'll get 
 into college this fall," and John told him of the 
 offer Sherman had made him. 
 
 " I hope your friend won't forget," the Pro- 
 fessor suggested, fearing that his pupil was build j 
 ing high hopes on an insecure foundation. 
 
 " He won't forget; he's not that kind." 
 
 "I hope not; but how are you going to get 
 there? It's a long way." 
 
 John looked up quickly: he had not thought 
 of that before. It was a serious question. 
 
 " I don't know; but I'll get there somehow." 
 He spoke confidently but he was much perplexed, 
 for he was without money, his clothes were 
 threadbare, and it was a necessity to study all 
 summer, with no chance to earn money. It was 
 certainly a question that could not be answered 
 offhand. He studied over this matter for days 
 and no solution presented itself. Borrow he 
 might, but this he would not do without giving 
 333
 
 CATTLE RANGE TO COLLEGE. 
 
 security, and of security lie had none. He left 
 it for a while, hoping to be able to think of a way 
 out of the difficulty later. 
 
 Before he realized it Commencement had ar- 
 rived, and with it the open meeting of the Debat- 
 ing Society at the Opera House. To his aston- 
 ishment he found that he was appointed one of 
 the two orators of the occasion. In vain he pro- 
 tested that he was busy, that he was unfitted ; he 
 had to accept. " Orator Opera House Me ! " 
 he fairly gasped with astonishment. He was 
 rather worried about it, but Gray, whom he con- 
 sulted that night, reassured him. 
 
 " Don't worry, anyhow," he advised. " Take 
 a subject you're interested in, write out what you 
 think about it, boil it down so you can repeat it 
 in twenty minutes, then memorize it." 
 
 John also consulted Beeman, the other orator, 
 who said he was going to speak about the Chinese 
 Question. 
 
 " Against them," he said, in answer to the 
 other's sharply put query. " That's the only way 
 to please a crowd take the popular side." 
 
 " Well, I'm going to take the side I want, and 
 I'll tell 'em what I think about it, too," said John 
 vehemently, his spirit thoroughly roused. 
 
 " Go ahead," said Beeman, visions floating be- 
 fore him of an opportunity to hurl his thunders 
 334
 
 TWELVE HUNDRED MILES AWHEEL. 
 
 at a definite champion (and an inexperienced 
 one) of an unpopular cause. 
 
 John set to work on his speech with his usual 
 eagerness and energy. His heart was in it, and 
 the prospect of a contest of wit or muscle always 
 stirred him. He wrote, rewrote, cut down, filled 
 in and polished until Gray, his friend and critic, 
 pronounced it " good stuff." 
 
 In the meantime, he not only kept at work at 
 his studies, his duties as janitor and paper boy, 
 but he was at work at something else that he 
 thought might prove most important. 
 
 At a half-mile race track, a little distance out, 
 a very early rising citizen, if he happened to be 
 in that vicinity at daybreak, would have won- 
 dered greatly to see a half-clad figure on an old 
 bicycle go flying round and round the track. If, 
 overcome by curiosity, he had waited a while, 
 he would have seen the same figure, neatly 
 clothed, appear from under the grand stand carry- 
 ing a bundle of papers under his arm. Then if 
 he watched he would see him mount an old 
 bicycle and ride off. But this performance 
 took place so very early that no one witnessed 
 it. 
 
 At last the day of the Debating Society's open 
 meeting came the day on which John was to 
 make his first public appearance. His speech 
 335
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 was complete, memorized, and ready for delivery. 
 He spouted it for the last time to Gray, who put 
 the stamp of his approval on it and advised him 
 to forget it all till the time came to speak. 
 
 The Opera House was crowded when John and 
 Gray reached it, for the town's people took great 
 interest in its institutions, and of these the acad- 
 emy was one of the most important. 
 
 John looked out from the wings on the sea of 
 upturned faces, appalled. 
 
 Beeman came first. He went out before the 
 audience, cool, self-possessed, graceful, and de- 
 livered his oration smoothly, forcibly, and well. 
 He chose the popular side, and the audience re- 
 warded him with generous applause. 
 
 Then John heard the chairman announce, 
 " Oration by John Worth." 
 
 He walked out from the dimness of the flies 
 into the full glare of the brightly lighted stage, 
 bewildered, and, without any preliminaries, 
 began : 
 
 "In the history of every country, however just, 
 however good or great, there are certain pages 
 besmirched by the record of black deeds of 
 wrong." 
 
 So his carefully written, carefully memorized 
 speech began. As he stood before his audience 
 he saw nothing but the pages of his manuscript : 
 336
 
 TWELVE HUNDRED MILES AWHEEL. 
 
 he felt that he must keep his mind on them or he 
 would be lost. . He followed down the first page, 
 mentally turned it over, and began the second. 
 Beeman had touched a point on the second page, 
 and treated it in a ridiculous way, he thought. 
 His concentration was broken, and he began to 
 fear for the first time that his memory would fail. 
 A dozen lines down the second page he faltered, 
 stopped, and stood riveted, miserable. The few 
 moments' pause seemed endless. He tried to 
 think of the next line, next page, anything; in 
 vain, it was all a blank. The pile of manuscript, 
 a minute ago so clearly before his mind's eye, 
 had vanished, and he stood staring at the crowd 
 before him. Some one behind tried to prompt 
 him; it brought him to life. Beeman's fallacies 
 had incensed him; he'd tell them so, and in 
 no uncertain way. With a whole-arm gesture 
 he mentally cast away his carefully prepared 
 speech. 
 
 " It's wrong! All wrong! " he said intensely, 
 and with conviction in his tones. His own voice 
 electrified him. His first few sentences were 
 mere bursts of indignation, his tongue went on of 
 its own volition, it could scarcely give utterance 
 to his stirred feelings. As he went on, his emo- 
 tions grew more quiet but none the less earnest. 
 Constant yodelling to cattle for years had given 
 22 337
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 him a voice which carried to the farthest corner 
 of the building. He had carefully studied his 
 subject, and now that he had regained his nerve 
 he spoke his mind with enthusiasm and vigor. 
 His arguments were well chosen and his language 
 terse and to the point. Stimulated by excite- 
 ment, new ideas came, and he uttered them with 
 a confidence that afterward amazed even himself. 
 Parts of his own prepared oration came back to 
 him and he spoke it as if it was impromptu, with 
 force and freedom. 
 
 The time had come to stop, and without a 
 pause he launched out on his original peroration 
 with the ease, confidence, and fire of a veteran 
 orator. The closing sentence rang out clear and 
 strong : " Men and women of America, let us 
 wipe out the blot from this page of our country's 
 history and make her in truth the Land of the 
 Free and the Home of the Brave." 
 
 His speech over, John stumbled, rather than 
 walked, off the stage to the street. The reaction 
 was great. He did not hear the applause, the 
 cheering; he did not know that he had aroused 
 the enthusiasm of people naturally prejudiced 
 against his side of the question. 
 
 John went straight to his room and to bed, but 
 not to sleep his nervous tension would not allow 
 that. The thing uppermost in his mind, the
 
 TWELVE HUNDRED MILES AWHEEL. 
 
 thing that worried him, was that he had forgotten 
 his speech the speech he had so carefully pre- 
 pared and learned by heart. 
 
 The papers had to be delivered in the morning, 
 however, and a certain self-imposed engagement 
 at the racetrack kept, so he was up betimes. 
 
 After these two duties were finished, he rode 
 down the street to discover if possible the depths 
 of ignominy to which he had been brought by 
 forgetting his speech. The idea that he had 
 disgraced himself still clung to him. Two fel- 
 lows appeared right away, and before John could 
 voice his greeting they called out : " Say, Worth, 
 you just ate Beeman up last night. Are you 
 sure you wrote it yourself? " 
 
 " He doesn't know that I forgot it," thought 
 John, who hesitated a minute before he answered 
 aloud : " Of course, it was all my own." 
 
 ""Well, it was a rattling good speech, any- 
 how." 
 
 John thanked him, and then the talk drifted 
 to the games to be held next day, and to the bi- 
 cycle race especially, where the winner would 
 receive a brand new up-to-date bicycle as a prize. 
 
 " That's going to be a hot old race," said 
 Searles, one of the two students. " Every pedal 
 kicker in town is after that new wheel." 
 
 " Yes, that's a prize worth riding for," and 
 339
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 John had a look in his eyes that Searles did not 
 understand till later. 
 
 Several times that day persons of various de- 
 grees of importance among them Mr. Haynes, 
 the financial and political corner-stone of the 
 community stopped John, called him by name, 
 and chatted pleasantly with him. Mr. Haynes 
 said that he was a credit to the school and the 
 town. So John's self-respect began to come back. 
 His good fortune was dawning, now that he was 
 making preparations to leave it all. 
 
 Field day came clear and beautiful, and the 
 crowd came en masse to see the sports. A series 
 of well-advertised events were to be run, the cli- 
 max of which was the one-mile bicycle race. 
 The prize wheel had stood labelled in the donor's 
 window for a week, and every wheelman and boy 
 in the neighborhood had gazed at and coveted it. 
 
 The early events were well contested, and 
 worked the spectators up to a fever heat of in- 
 terest. By the time the bicycle race was an- 
 nounced the crowd was wildly enthusiastic. Dis- 
 cussions as to the probable winner were rife. 
 
 " There's none of them that'll beat Tucker," 
 said one. " He'll have a walk-over." 
 
 "He won't walk over Bolton," declared an- 
 other. 
 
 And so it went, till the contestants appeared 
 340
 
 TWELVE HUNDRED MILES AWHEEL. 
 
 on the track. Tucker and Bolton were the 
 favorites. 
 
 As the men lined up at the stake some one 
 remarked : " Why, there's "Worth, with the old 
 bike, too. He's the fellow that made the speech. 
 I thought he had more sense than to go out with 
 that old rattle-trap." 
 
 "They're off! " The shout went up as the 
 starter's pistol cracked. 
 
 Tucker jumped to the front, and everybody 
 cheered him; but Bolton was near, and as the 
 riders passed the stand for the first time it was 
 seen that he was close behind. Following Bol- 
 ton's rear wheel closely was a strange rider on 
 an old wheel, whom the crowd did not recognize 
 at first. 
 
 "By George! It's Worth," said a student, 
 surprised. The men swept by, closely bunched, 
 their wheels rattling, their legs going like pis- 
 tons, and the bodies of some swaying as they 
 exerted themselves to the utmost to keep up. 
 
 " Bol ton's going past. He's leading! " And 
 the speaker jumped up and down in his excite- 
 ment. But John clung to the leader's rear 
 wheel and went with him. Faster and faster 
 they raced, past Tucker, opening a big gap be- 
 tween the bunch. Bolton was riding for glory, 
 but John was riding for something besides glory: 
 341
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 his success meant position, standing, a great op- 
 portunity, a future. 
 
 A hundred feet from the finishing tape he bent 
 his head and made a tremendous effort. Early 
 morning training stood him in good stead now, 
 for he began to gain on Bolton, and inch by inch 
 to pass him. The old machine groaned alarm- 
 ingly, but it stood up to its work in spite of its 
 protests. Twenty feet from the finish John 
 seemed to leap forward, and crossed the tape just 
 ahead of the laboring Bolton. 
 
 The crowd was rather disappointed to see its 
 favorites beaten, but applauded the winner gen- 
 erously as he went up to the judge's stand to 
 receive his shining prize. 
 
 Gray was the first man to wring his hand; his 
 was an honest, unfeigned, glad congratulation. 
 
 " Say, Gray," said John, " you ride her home. 
 I want a farewell ride on this old wheel. I pull 
 out to-morrow." 
 
 "What! " ejaculated Gray in astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, that's what I wanted that wheel for. I 
 straddle it to-morrow and go East. I haven't 
 said anything about the plan, for I wasn't sure 
 the wheel would be mine." 
 
 " Did you expect to win ? " Gray asked. 
 
 " I've trained a month. That's what gave me 
 the wind to finish so strong. You see my plans 
 342
 
 TWELVE HUNDRED MILES AWHEEL. 
 
 need transportation East. I had to win I'm 
 going to ride that wheel to college." 
 
 That evening John bade the Marstons good- 
 by. They tried to dissuade him from going; 
 they pictured the career that was open to him in 
 the town where he had made friends and had 
 gained a reputation, but his mind was made up, 
 and though he was touched by their kindness, go 
 he must. 
 
 " I don't like to have you leave," said the Pro- 
 fessor. " You'll be thrown into circumstances 
 unlike any you have ever met before. But I 
 know that you can adapt yourself to new condi- 
 tions, and for that reason it may be best for you 
 while your mind is growing. You will never 
 forget the AVest, but I feel sure you will not leave 
 the East, once you are settled there. Good-by, 
 my boy, and God bless you." 
 
 John never forgot the kind parting words nor 
 Professor Marston's always considerate treat- 
 ment. 
 
 The two friends, Worth and Gray, talked long 
 and earnestly that night and it was late when 
 they retired, but at daybreak they were stirring. 
 John ate a deliberate breakfast, strapped a few 
 necessaries to his wheel, bade his friend a sincere 
 farewell, and rode off. 
 
 He pedalled on in the crisp morning air till he 
 343
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 reached a high point, where he dismounted and 
 took a long look at the town where he had strug- 
 gled so hard, but which was the scene of his tri- 
 umph as well as his trials. His satisfaction was 
 mixed with regret, for he left behind good, true 
 friends and a known esteem, for he knew not 
 what. The town lay in the hazy valley below, 
 morning smoke-wreaths now curling from many 
 chimneys, the gray shingle roofs embedded in 
 dark-green foliage ; it was a scene of contentment 
 and rest. He contrasted this with other scenes, 
 active, restless, hazardous ones; the cattle range, 
 the sheep camp, and the mine. The thought of 
 his home was not so clear as the later scenes, 
 though he had visited it during his stay at school. 
 He had found Ben an almost grown-up, vigorous, 
 business-like ranchman, glad to see his brother, 
 but interested in his own affairs; not the same 
 old boyish Ben of old. 
 
 It was with real regret that he turned and left 
 the town that had in a way been a cradle and a 
 home to him. 
 
 He mounted his wheel and sped down the slope 
 Eastward. 
 
 Day after day the traveller pushed on, follow- 
 ing the windings of the roads now where for- 
 merly he would have ridden his horse as the crow 
 flies. 
 
 344
 
 TWELVE HUNDRED MILES AWHEEL. 
 
 Seventy miles a day. Eighty miles a day. 
 Population increased; roads were better, ninety 
 miles a day. His training for racing stood him 
 in good stead. One hundred miles a day; his 
 face always turned Eastward. 
 
 Rains came; the roads became rivers of mud. 
 He was driven to the drier railroad track and 
 jolted along over the ties. Sixty miles a day. 
 The end not yet in sight, money exhausted, pros- 
 pects not very cheerful; but with resolution un- 
 daunted he pushed along. A brickyard afforded 
 temporary work. Five dollars earned, he " hit 
 the trail " again. 
 
 Midday was fiercely hot ; he took advantage of 
 the cool mornings, and by twilight pedalled con- 
 tinuously. Wide swamps intervened. Insects, 
 stingingly vicious, beset him. The sand along 
 the river banks was heart-breaking to a wheel- 
 man and the mountains formed almost unsur- 
 mountable barriers. People he met misdirected 
 or were ignorant, and he often went far out of 
 his way.
 
 CATTLE RANCH TO COLLEGE. 
 
 But the goal was sighted at last. The day he 
 reached Sherman's town he made one hundred 
 and twenty miles and rode up the main street a 
 sorry specimen tired, dirty, tanned leather color 
 by sun, wind, and rain. 
 
 His plans were fully made. The wheel was 
 pawned at once, and two hours later John Worth 
 emerged from a little hotel, bathed, shaved, and 
 neatly clothed. 
 
 The address of his friend written for him was 
 made nearly illegible by friction, sweat, and dirt. 
 But by the aid of a friendly policeman he was 
 able to find Sherman's house. He rang the bell, 
 was admitted promptly by a neat maid, and 
 ushered into a sumptuously furnished parlor, the 
 like of which he had never seen before. The 
 chair that he at last dared to use was soft and 
 luxurious, and the journey had wearied him so 
 that he was just about dropping off to sleep when 
 Sherman entered. 
 
 " How do you do, sir? " Sherman's greeting 
 was rather formal. " What can I do for you? " 
 
 At the sound of his voice John started to his 
 feet with a jump. 
 
 " Don't you know me, Sherman? " he said. 
 
 "You you can't be John Worth? Why, 
 bless my heart, is it really you? " cried Sherman. 
 
 In an instant the one idea that had sustained 
 346
 
 TWELVE HUNDRED MILES AWHEEL. 
 
 him through the trying hours and apparently 
 endless miles of his journey came to John's mind. 
 " Yes," he said, the light of triumph in his 
 eyes. " I'm John Worth. And I've come to 
 college." 
 
 347
 
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 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY 'FACILITY