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DALE AND FRASER, SHEEPMEN 
 
'JAMIE, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR FATHER TOLD ME THIS MORNING?' 
 
Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 A STORY OF COLORADO SHEEP RAISING 
 
 BY 
 SIDFORD F. HAMP 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 CHASE EMERSON 
 
 W. A. WILDE COMPANY 
 BOSTON CHICAGO 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 I. 
 
 The Spring Creek Ranch 
 
 
 
 II 
 
 II. 
 
 The Wolf-Hunt . 
 
 
 
 25 
 
 III. 
 
 The Boy from Obispo . 
 
 
 
 40 
 
 IV. 
 
 The Drive . 
 
 
 
 55 
 
 V. 
 
 A Lion in the Path 
 
 
 
 71 
 
 VI. 
 
 A Trip to the Foothills 
 
 
 
 go 
 
 VII. 
 
 A Range-Fire 
 
 
 
 109 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Copper Pot . 
 
 
 
 126 
 
 IX. 
 
 The Great November Storm 
 
 
 143 
 
 X. 
 
 Hidalgo Saves the Wether Flock 
 
 
 162 
 
 XL 
 
 Gathering the Wreckage . 
 
 
 175 
 
 XII. 
 
 The Face in the Window . 
 
 
 190 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The Good Padre 
 
 
 207 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Into the Giant's Castle 
 
 
 224 
 
 XV. 
 
 The Harpstrings 
 
 
 238 
 
 XVI. 
 
 A Pistol Shot .... 
 
 
 256 
 
 XVII. 
 
 What Hidalgo Thought in His Head 
 
 
 272 
 
 ^VIII. 
 
 In Prison and Out 
 
 
 284 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The Padre's Little Trap 
 
 
 
 298 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 "Jamie, what do you think your father told me 
 
 THIS MORNING ? " . . . Frontispiece 21 
 
 "The little Mexican waving above his head a 
 
 flaming stick " 73 
 
 " Hallo, Stock ! Are you there ? " . . . 154 
 
 "Alighting from our horses, we advanced to meet 
 
 them" 214 
 
 " We saw, far behind us, like pin-holes — two twink- 
 ling points of fire " 287 
 
Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 The Spring Creek Ranch 
 
 A WOLF-HUNT? Yes, the boys will be 
 glad to go, I've no doubt. I can't my- 
 self: I have to drive to town on Wednesday; 
 but the boys will be delighted to join you, I'm 
 sure." 
 
 It was my father, Robert Fraser, sheepman, 
 who made this remark, as he flung open the 
 gate of the horse-corral to admit his visitor, 
 a brisk, dapper little man, by name John 
 Meadows, also a sheepman and our nearest 
 neighbor on the south. 
 
 " * Boys ' ? " exclaimed the latter in an in- 
 quiring tone, as he slid down from his horse. 
 " What do you mean by * boys ' ? Is there any 
 one here besides Jamie? " 
 11 
 
12 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 "Oh, I forgot. You haven't met him yet, 
 have you? Yes, we have another boy here 
 now ; a young fellow named Stockton Dale. 
 He comes from Boston." 
 
 '' From Boston, eh ? How does that happen ? 
 One doesn't, as a rule, care to have a city boy 
 hanging around a sheep-ranch." 
 
 " No ; I know that well enough ; but the 
 circumstances in this case were peculiar. The 
 boy is an orphan who was brought up by a lady 
 in Boston, a certain Miss Catherine Seabright, 
 the oldest and best friend my wife and I possess, 
 and when she wrote to us some time ago saying 
 how the young fellow wanted to come west and 
 get to work, we told her to send him on to us 
 on trial." 
 
 "How old is he?" 
 
 " About eighteen : same age as Jamie." 
 
 " Hm ! Old enough to be useful, anyhow. 
 How's he going to pan out? " 
 
 " First-rate, I think. As you say, one does 
 not care to have a useless boy hanging around 
 on a sheep-ranch, and we did not invite this 
 one to come without due consideration, but he's 
 been with us a couple of months now and I 
 think he's going to do. He seems to take to 
 
The Spring Creek Ranch i 3 
 
 the business kindly enough, and he's a great 
 fellow to work — there's no tiring him out : he's 
 as strong as a little horse and has the staying 
 powers of a coyote. But then he's built for 
 that sort of thing, if ever a boy was, as you'll 
 see for yourself in a moment, for here they 
 come." 
 
 They had walked up to the house during this 
 conversation, and as my father uttered these 
 last words Stock and I came up the steps and 
 entered the front hall, when my companion 
 turned into his bedroom to get his coat, while I 
 went at once into the sitting-room. 
 
 " Well, Jamie," said Mr. Meadows, as we 
 shook hands, " so you've got a new friend, I 
 hear. Pleasant for you, isn't it? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," I replied, " it's fine. It's the first 
 time in all the twelve years I've lived here on 
 the plains that I've had a companion of my own 
 age within reach." 
 
 " That's a fact ; though it hadn't occurred to 
 me before. All the ranchmen's families about 
 here are composed of children five or six years 
 old, aren't they ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, and mostly girls at that. There 
 isn't a fellow of my age within a circle of thirty 
 
14 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 miles. It's a great thing for me ; and I'm glad 
 to say we seem to hit it off together first-rate. 
 Here he is. This is my friend, Stockton Dale, 
 Mr. Meadows." 
 
 As my new friend entered, I noticed that Mr. 
 Meadows opened his eyes rather widely — which 
 was not surprising ; for Stock was a fellow at 
 whom most people would look twice. He was 
 not very tall, five feet-nine, that is — two inches 
 shorter than myself — but otherwise he was 
 twice my size. He was so wide-shouldered that 
 he seemed to fill the doorway as he came 
 through, while the arch of his chest and the 
 set of his muscular neck would convince any- 
 body — especially one like Mr. Meadows, used to 
 judging the weight and quality of animals, 
 men included — that he was an unusually stout 
 fellow. 
 
 Mr. Meadows shook hands with him very 
 heartily, and then, turning to me, said : "I 
 rode over to-day, Jamie, to ask if you wouldn't 
 come down to my place on Wednesday and 
 join in a wolf-hunt. Your father says he can't 
 come, but I hope you two boys will join us." 
 
 I looked towards my companion. " You'd 
 like to, wouldn't you, Stock ? " said I. 
 
The Spring Creek Ranch 15 
 
 " Yes," he replied, with eagerness, " I should 
 be glad to go," 
 
 *' All right, then," said Mr. Meadows, " I shall 
 expect you. Come as early as you can : it may 
 be an all-day job and I want to make an early 
 start. In fact, you'd better come down the day 
 before, and then we can get off about sunrise." 
 
 I looked to my father for permission, who, 
 nodding his head, said, " Very well. Meadows, 
 they shall ride down to-morrow afternoon. You 
 can take the gray pony, Jamie, while Stock had 
 better take the big brown ; he's rather a heavy 
 weight and needs a stout horse for a long day's 
 ride, as you are likely to have. Is it a general 
 hunt for wolves and coyotes, Meadows, or are 
 you after any beast in particular? " 
 
 " I'm going after one in particular, or, rather, 
 two, for I believe there's a pair of them. I'll 
 tell you how it is. You know my southeast 
 camp in the fork of Texas Creek and Little 
 Texas ? Well, three or four times during the last 
 two weeks the herders, when they turned out the 
 flocks in the morning, have found one or more 
 dead sheep in the corral, killed and partly eaten. 
 I thought at first it might be a coyote, as I have 
 seen no gray wolves about for a long time, but a 
 
1 6 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 coyote will seldom jump into a sheep-corral, and 
 besides that I found the tracks outside — much 
 too big for a coyote, and so many of them that 
 I feel sure there is a pair of the marauders. I 
 have set traps for them and laid out poison, but 
 they are too smart to touch the one or get 
 caught in the other ; I've raised the height of the 
 corral and put up barbed wire, but it is no use, 
 they get in just the same ; for, as you know, 
 when once a gray wolf has taken to getting into 
 a sheep-corral, nothing short of death will stop 
 him." 
 
 ''That's true," assented my father. "It's 
 curious how persistent they are after they have 
 once formed the habit." 
 
 " Well," our visitor continued, " the night be- 
 fore last they got in again ; they killed and ate 
 one sheep and then killed six others just for 
 amusement. I thought this was becoming 
 monotonous, so I determined to organize a hunt. 
 I have found that the tracks of the wolves lead 
 down Texas Creek, so I am going to take the two 
 hounds and all the men I can gather and beat 
 the country in that direction first. There will 
 be nine of us : we three and my foreman, Sam 
 Twitchell ; old George Burrows from Rocky 
 
The Spring Creek Ranch 17 
 
 Draw and his foreman ; Peter Dent from Lower 
 Sandy, and the two Stephensons." 
 
 " What's your plan, Mr. Meadows ? " I asked. 
 
 " We'll line out on either side of Texas Creek, 
 four on each side a quarter of a mile apart and 
 I and the hounds in the middle. In that way 
 we can cover a large stretch of country, and I 
 hope one or other of us will put up the wolves. 
 If we find them, as I hope we may, then the 
 hounds will do the rest." 
 
 " Have they ever tackled a wolf yet ? " asked 
 my father. " I know they have killed a score or 
 more of coyotes, but a gray wolf is quite another 
 thing." 
 
 " I know it is ; but I think the hounds will 
 tackle them all right. It's their business, you 
 know ; and they will have us men to back 
 them." 
 
 Turning to Stock, he went on : " They are 
 Russian wolf-hounds ; they look like very large 
 long-haired greyhounds ; the larger one stands, 
 I suppose, about thirty inches at the shoulder, 
 and they can outrun any living creature on the 
 plains." 
 
 " Yes," said I, '' and to look at them you'd 
 think they were only fit to tackle jack-rabbits 
 
1 8 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 and such things, they are such mild-mannered, 
 gentlemanly-looking dogs. But wait till you 
 see one of them stretch himself and yawn, and 
 then you will notice that he has a mouth and a 
 set of teeth like a crocodile's. It's no wonder 
 the coyotes are always in such a desperate hurry 
 to get out of the way of a pair of jaws like those. 
 What were the names you gave them, Mr. 
 Meadows, when you first got them ? " 
 
 Our friend laughed. "That wasn't my 
 doing," said he ; " that was Jo, the cook — old Jo, 
 you know, thinks he's a good deal of a humorist. 
 As they were Russian hounds, he thought they 
 ought to have Russian names, or at least names 
 that sounded Russian, and so he called them 
 Bite-'em-in-two-ski and Snap-his-hind-leg-ofF. 
 But these names were a trifle cumbersome for 
 general use, so they are reserved for state occa- 
 sions, and the hounds meanwhile are called Czar 
 and Russ. But I must be off. No, I won't stay 
 to dinner, thank you. I have a good deal to do, 
 so I'll start back at once. Good-bye. I shall 
 look for you two to-morrow." 
 
 Our ranch lay in a sheltered hollow of the 
 plains of Southern Colorado, fifteen miles south 
 of the railroad and forty miles northeast of the 
 
The Spring Creek Ranch 19 
 
 Trinity range. It was one of the prettiest places 
 on the plains. Behind the house, to the north, 
 rose a hill about two hundred feet high, out of 
 which there issued a number of strong springs, 
 uniting to form a stream known as Spring Creek. 
 The water from these springs not only furnished 
 a good supply to the house, the stables and the 
 sheep-corrals, but it enabled us to maintain a 
 string of ponds inhabited by innumerable trout 
 and frequented by thousands of wild ducks and 
 geese as they passed northward or southward ac- 
 cording to the season of the year. Moreover, 
 this ample water-supply furnished irrigation for 
 a large number of trees ; an unusual thing on 
 the plains and one of great advantage to a 
 sheepman, for there is nothing like three or four 
 rows of trees on the north and west sides of your 
 sheep-corrals to keep the winter storms from 
 drifting them full of snow — they are infinitely 
 superior to the ordinary snow-fences. 
 
 Our next-door-neighbor on the south was our 
 friend, John Meadows — though when I use the 
 term " next-door-neighbor " I do not wish to 
 imply that we were at all crowded, for, as a 
 matter of fact, the distance between the two 
 places was a trifle under ten miles — and it was 
 
20 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 southward therefore that Stock and I set off on 
 the following afternoon, I on a tough little gray 
 pony and he on the big brown horse. 
 
 It was a beautiful day, late in August. A 
 pleasant breeze stirred the feathery tops of the 
 grama grass, now turning yellow, and tempered 
 the heat of the sun which beat down upon us 
 out of a cloudless sky. In all directions spread 
 the tawny plains, the circle unbroken, save to 
 the southwest where, forty miles away, the long 
 line of the Trinity Mountains stood up sharp 
 and clear against the sky — so sharp and clear, 
 indeed, that any one unaccustomed to judge of 
 distances in that transparent atmosphere would 
 feel sure he could reach them in an hour's easy 
 gallop. The chattering prairie-dogs saluted us 
 as we went by ; an occasional coyote would trot 
 leisurely away keeping one eye on us over his 
 shoulder ; or a bunch of antelope, espying us 
 from a distant hill, would come galloping up, 
 and standing in a row would take a good long 
 stare at us, until a puff of wind blowing from 
 us to them would send them scooting again. 
 
 As we rode gently up a long slope, the reins 
 loose upon the horses' necks, my companion, 
 turning suddenl}" to me, said: 
 
The Spring Creek Ranch 21 
 
 " Jamie, what do you think your father told 
 me this morning ? He said I had been sent out 
 here on trial ; that I had done very well so far ; 
 and that on the first of next month he was going 
 to begin paying me wages." 
 
 " Did he ! " I exclaimed, delighted to hear 
 that my new chum had so quickly earned my 
 father's good opinion. '' That's great ! " 
 
 " Yes ; and he said I was to consult with you 
 as to whether I should take my pay in money 
 or in sheep." 
 
 '' Then take it in sheep, Stock, by all means. 
 It makes you a sort of partner in the business, 
 you see. Your sheep run with the rest, you 
 pay your proportion of the expenses and receive 
 your proportion of the money coming in from 
 the sale of the wool and the mutton. That's 
 the way I do. You will need a little of it for 
 clothes — that's about your only outlay — and the 
 rest you can put back into sheep ; and so your 
 little flock gets bigger and bigger every year. 
 Put your wages into sheep, old chap, by all 
 means." 
 
 " I will, Jamie ; and I'm tremendously obliged 
 to your father for giving me such an opportu- 
 nity, because " He paused for a moment, 
 
22 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 and then went on : "I never told you, Jamie, 
 did I, why I was so anxious to come out here 
 and get to work ? " 
 
 " No," I replied. " I only know what my 
 father told me : that you did not take to office- 
 work and so wanted to come out west." 
 
 Stock nodded. ''Well," said he, "I'll just 
 tell you, and then you'll understand. I was left 
 an orphan, as you've heard, when I was two 
 years old and Aunt Catherine — that's Miss 
 Seabright, you know, who is no relation as it 
 happens — she took me in. She was pretty well 
 off at that time and was well able to afford it, 
 but about three 3'ears later some fellow, a cousin 
 of hers, I believe, ran off with four-fifths of her 
 money, leaving her in comparative poverty. 
 What became of this cousin and the money 
 nobody knows. I was a little chap of five then, 
 and of course I knew nothing about all this, and 
 it was not until just lately that I found out by 
 accident how Aunt Catherine had been pinch- 
 ing and scraping all these j^ears to maintain me 
 and keep me at school." 
 
 " I see," said I, nodding my head ; " and so 
 you decided to go to work." 
 
 " Yes," he replied. " I went and told her 
 
The Spring Creek Ranch 23 
 
 that I was going to get to work at once, and 
 when she found I meant it she wrote right off 
 to your father and — and here I am." 
 
 " I'm glad you are," said I. 
 
 " Thanks," said he, smiling. And then, after 
 a thoughtful pause he continued : '' There's an- 
 other thing I'll tell you, Jamie, though I haven't 
 said anything about it to anybody else : I never 
 expect to be able to repay all her kindness to 
 me — in that particular I'm content to remain 
 her debtor, — but the money part of it is differ- 
 ent ; some day, however long it may take, I in- 
 tend, if I can, to pay back to Aunt Catherine 
 every penny of the money she has expended 
 upon me. And that is why I was so anxious to 
 get to work at once." 
 
 It was an odd circumstance, as it seems to me, 
 that this conversation should have taken place 
 while we were riding down to the Meadows 
 place, for it happened, curiously enough — 
 though of course we had no suspicion of it 
 at the time — that this wolf-hunt was to be 
 the first step in the direction of the singular 
 adventure into which Stock and I afterwards 
 drifted in his effort to carry out his resolution. 
 
 I have often urged upon my partner, who 
 
24 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 was the one chiefly concerned, the propriety 
 of writing out the history of this adventure. 
 Leaving out of account the fact that to it was 
 directly due the founding of the firm of Dale 
 and Fraser, sheepmen, the adventure itself was 
 of a kind which every year grows less and less 
 likely to recur as time goes on and the country 
 becomes settled up. But Stock has persistently 
 declined, saying, not unreasonably, " Well, 
 Jamie, if you want it done, do it yourself" 
 
 And so, though with a good deal of diffidence, 
 for my business is to handle sheep rather than 
 to handle a pen, I have set myself to the task, 
 hoping, at least, that I may be able to make a 
 straight and understandable story of it. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 The Wolf-Hunt 
 
 WE reached the Meadows place early in the 
 afternoon, and were welcomed by our host 
 in the hearty manner which prevails among the 
 sheepmen of the plains. 
 
 "Is this the first time you have been away 
 from the ranch, Stock ? " he asked, as he led the 
 way into the house. 
 
 " Not quite, sir," replied my companion. " I 
 made a call at the Draper ranch one day lately, 
 twelve miles north of Spring Creek, you know." 
 
 " Ah, did you ? Making a call here is a very 
 different matter from what it is back in Boston, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 " I should think it was," replied Stock, with 
 much feeling. " There, you ring the bell, hand 
 in a visiting-card, and then, with one eye on 
 the clock, sit bolt upright on the edge of a chair 
 for a quarter of an hour, feeling as though you 
 had been born foolish and had never got over 
 it. But here, it's quite another matter : You 
 25 
 
26 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 gallop up to the house, and before you have 
 time to dismount the door flies open and out 
 comes somebody with a * Hallo, boys ! How 
 are you ? Come right in. Supper '11 be ready 
 directly. Going to stay a week ? ' " 
 
 " Yes. And sometimes you do stay a week, 
 if work is slack at home, as it may be now and 
 then in the fall after the hay is in and before 
 you have to begin hauling the winter's supply 
 of coal and corn. For my part, I prefer the 
 western style." 
 
 " So do I," said Stock, with much heartiness ; 
 and I think ninety-nine boys in a hundred will 
 agree with him. 
 
 One by one the members of the hunt rode in 
 from different directions, all except the two 
 Stephensons, who, as they lived eighteen miles 
 to the southeast, had arranged to meet the party 
 in the morning at the sheep-camp whence we 
 were to make our first cast. 
 
 Stock was introduced to the different ranch- 
 men, and at six o'clock we sat down to supper 
 in the big kitchen — for Mr. Meadows was a 
 bachelor — waited upon by Jo, the cook and 
 facetious namer of wolf-hounds. 
 
 " How was your hay crop this year, Jamie ? " 
 
The Wolf-Hunt 27 
 
 asked old George Burrows, as he helped himself 
 plentifully to the rautton-stew and potatoes. 
 " Ought to have been pretty good after such a 
 wet spring." 
 
 "Fine," I replied. "We put up eight big 
 stacks, and as we had three left over from last 
 year we are well fixed for the winter." 
 
 " That's good. We had a fine crop ourselves, 
 too, though we didn't get near so much rain as 
 you did. Queer how the weather runs in 
 streaks across these plains. You may have the 
 wettest season in years at one place, while fifty 
 miles away the springs will dry up and the 
 range-cattle die for want of water." 
 
 " That's a fact," assented our host. " And it's 
 the same with snow-storms in winter. How do 
 you like haying, Stock?" addressing my com- 
 panion. "Good hard work, isn't it? for a nov- 
 ice, at least." 
 
 " Yes ; and I'm afraid I was a pretty awkward 
 novice. About the first thing I did was to break 
 a fork-handle trying to pitch a hay-cock on to 
 the wagon. I found afterwards that I had stuck 
 the fork six inches into the ground and was try- 
 ing to hoist old Mother Earth." 
 
 They all laughed at this, and Peter Dent, as 
 
28 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 he passed his cup for more coffee, said, '' Our 
 man, Tom Sweetzer, got a bit of a scare this hay- 
 ing. I pitched a forkful of hay on the wagon 
 and sent up a rattler with it, Tom was doing 
 the loading, and the snake fell right at his feet. 
 You'd ought to have seen him get off that 
 wagon." 
 
 " Many rattlers this season, Pete ? " asked Mr. 
 Meadows. 
 
 " Fairish. The herders at the Short Creek 
 camp have killed about thirty-five. They killed 
 over ninety though last year — they were pretty 
 thick that season." 
 
 " Ninety ! " exclaimed Stock, in astonishment. 
 " I'd no idea that rattlesnakes were so common 
 as that. It must be dangerous going about." 
 
 " It is only in spots that you find so many," 
 explained Mr. Meadows. " They are like the 
 weather : they run in streaks. Peter Dent's 
 Short Creek camp and my summer camp at 
 Thompson's Bend are favorite spots with them ; 
 but in general you only come across them once 
 in a while. It is a fortunate thing that they 
 always give notice when you come near them 
 or they would be a good deal more dangerous 
 than they are. Did you ever hear one rattle? " 
 
The Wolf-Hunt 29 
 
 " No, I never did." 
 
 " It's a startling sound, and unmistakable 
 when you've heard it once. It's a sound, too, 
 that you never get used to. I'll defy any man, 
 no matter how often he has heard it, not to 
 jump when he hears the ' Biz' of a rattler some- 
 where close by in the long grass." 
 
 '' Do the sheep often get bitten ? " asked Stock. 
 
 " Every now and then — nearly always in the 
 nose, as is natural. But they seldom die ; their 
 heads swell up and you have to lance them, but 
 they nearly always recover. Same with dogs ; 
 and as to pigs, why, they'd just as soon be bitten 
 as not. But then they always take an antidote." 
 
 "What's that?" asked my companion. 
 
 " Why, they eat the snake." 
 
 " They are telling a snake-story in town," re- 
 marked Sam Twitchell, the foreman, " which 
 sounds to me a trifle fishy. They say a man 
 was driving one of these new rubber-tired sul- 
 kies, when he ran over a rattler. The snake 
 coiled itself around the spokes, and every time 
 the wheel came round he took a snap at the 
 driver. But he couldn't reach him, and so, after 
 scratching his head and considering a while, he 
 concluded to bite the tire and let out the wind. 
 
30 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 He did so ; but the air, rushing out of the tire, 
 went down the snake's throat, and as the tire 
 flattened down the inflated rattler was drawn 
 into its place, and there he hung by his front 
 teeth, acting as a rubber tire in spite of himself, 
 until the horse stopped. The driver said he 
 never did see a rattler look so huffy as that one 
 did when he unhooked himself and walked 
 off-." 
 
 With the laughter this story evoked the sup- 
 per ended and we all adjourned to the sitting- 
 room, where for a couple of hours we boys sat 
 listening to the talk of our elders, occasionally 
 answering or putting in a question, until, about 
 half-past eight. Stock and I went oflP to bed, 
 knowing that we should have to be up about 
 four o'clock in the morning. 
 
 It seemed to make no difference to Jo, the 
 cook, that the family to be provided with a 
 breakfast was three or four times as large as 
 usual, or that that meal was to be served two 
 hours before the regular time. That sort of 
 thing happens pretty frequently on a sheep- 
 ranch and the cook gets used to it. We had no 
 more than fed and rubbed down our horses 
 when his stentorian voice was heard proclaiming 
 
The Wolf-Hunt 31 
 
 to all that part of Southern Colorado that break- 
 fast was ready on the Meadows ranch. 
 
 The sun was just rising as the party set out ; 
 the two long-legged wolf-hounds, with their 
 easy, springy trot, following close at the heels 
 of Mr. Meadows' horse. Two or three times, as 
 we jogged along, we caught sight of a coyote, 
 which, having undoubtedly himself caught sight 
 of us, was getting out of that neighborhood with 
 all possible dispatch. It rather surprised me 
 that the hounds did not rush off in pursuit, 
 until our host informed us that they were trained 
 not to give chase until laid on. 
 
 In due time we reached the camp in the fork 
 of the creeks, and here the two Stephensons 
 joined us, when the hunt was at once organized. 
 
 The crooked course of Texas Creek, in which 
 at this season of the year there was little water, 
 runs generally in a southeastern direction, and 
 along its sandy bed rode Mr. Meadows, followed 
 by the hounds, while the other eight riders 
 spread themselves out in a long line on either 
 side ; those on the smallest horses having their 
 stations nearest the creek. By this arrangement 
 my place fell next to Mr. Meadows on his right, 
 while Stock, who had the biggest and strongest 
 
32 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 horse of anybody, had the position farthest away 
 on the same side. Between us two were old 
 George Burrows and the younger Stephenson, 
 each being about a quarter of a mile distant 
 from the next horseman. It was arranged that 
 any one sighting the wolves should stop and 
 hold up one hand as a signal to the others. 
 
 Away we rode, up and down the innumerable 
 hills — for the country is very uneven along the 
 course of Texas Creek — sometimes the whole 
 nine of us being visible to each other at the 
 same moment, while at other times every mem- 
 ber of the hunt was concealed from every other 
 in the hollows. 
 
 We had ridden thus for about an hour, when, 
 on reaching the top of a stiff rise, I saw that 
 Dan Stephenson, whose position was farthest 
 away on the left, had abandoned his station and 
 was galloping down towards the creek. He was 
 the only one visible on that side, and what his 
 object could be I could not imagine, until, turn- 
 ing to look the other way, I saw on top of a hill 
 a mile away the burly figure of Stock on his big 
 horse outlined against the sky. He was sitting 
 still as a statue with his hand held high above 
 his head. It w^as the signal, and Dan Stephen- 
 
The Wolf-Hunt 33 
 
 son, two miles away, had been the first to see 
 it. 
 
 At this moment Mr. Meadows rode into sight. 
 To him I shouted and waved my hand, and as 
 soon as I saw that he had started towards me I 
 turned and rode away in the direction of Stock, 
 who was still sitting there with his hand above 
 his head. Huntsman and hounds presently 
 caught up with me ; we gathered up old Burrows 
 and the younger Stephenson, and pretty soon we 
 four were assembled about Stock, while the 
 others, we could see, were coming as fast as they 
 could to join us. 
 
 " Where did you see them. Stock ? " cried Mr. 
 Meadows. 
 
 " Down that way," replied my companion 
 pointing westward ; "they passed across that 
 opening there, two of them, going northward up 
 the draw ; traveling pretty fast, too." 
 
 " Ah, they've seen us, I expect. Come on. 
 We can't wait for the others." 
 
 Down the slope we rode, across the hollow and 
 up the hill on the other side. On the top we 
 drew up and scanned the country. For a mo- 
 ment we could see no sign of the enem}^ but 
 presently old Burrows, who in spite of his sixty 
 
34 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 years was as keen-eyed as a hawk, exclaimed : 
 " There they go, look ; there they go ! " 
 
 Following the direction of his hand, we saw, 
 a long half-mile away, two large gray animals 
 slipping swiftly along on the side of a hill. 
 Even at that distance we could see that they 
 were too big for coyotes, and we had little doubt 
 that they were the much sought-after sheep- 
 killers. 
 
 '' Tst ! Tst ! " went Mr. Meadows through his 
 teeth ; and at the signal the two hounds, which 
 hitherto had appeared to take no interest in any- 
 thing, lifted their heads and looked about them. 
 In a moment they had sighted the wolves ; and 
 the next instant they were gone. 
 
 Phew ! How those dogs could run ! In two 
 seconds, as it seemed to me, they had left us half 
 a mile behind. 
 
 The wolves instantly discovered that they 
 were the objects of pursuit, and away they went, 
 westward, as hard as they could go. The pace 
 was tremendous and very soon tested the re- 
 spective qualities of the four horses present. 
 Stock, who, though the heaviest of us all, had 
 much the largest and most powerful horse, soon 
 forged to the front ; Mr. Meadows, young 
 
The Wolf-Hunt 35 
 
 Stephenson and old Burrows came behind him 
 in a bunch ; while I on my little gray pony 
 gradually fell to the rear. The others of the 
 party were far behind, and in fact were never in 
 the hunt at all. 
 
 At the end of a quarter of an hour Stock was 
 so far ahead of the other three, and they so far 
 ahead of me, that it looked as though I also 
 should soon be out of the hunt. And so I 
 should have been, but for a fortunate accident. 
 
 On reaching the summit of a rather high, flat- 
 topped hill, I saw the three riders pounding 
 across the valley below, making for the hill op- 
 posite. On the top of this elevation was Stock, 
 still galloping westward ; the wolves and hounds 
 being concealed from my view. As I watched, 
 however, I saw Stock suddenly change his course 
 from due west to east of north. I knew the lie 
 of the land, and it w^as evident to me that the 
 wolves had turned up a long draw, at the head 
 of which, some four miles distant, was one of 
 our own summer camps. After shouting in vain 
 to my three friends, who from their position in 
 the valley were unable to see what was going on 
 ahead of them, I turned due north mj^self, 
 hoping to cut across the course of the chase. 
 
36 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 At the end of another fifteen minutes 1 
 reached the long draw I was making for, and 
 there to my great delight was the whole hunt 
 spread out beneath me. 
 
 Still three hundred yards in the lead were the 
 wolves, and very much to my surprise, instead 
 of two there were three of them. Evidently the 
 original pair had picked up a stranger, and he, 
 unfortunately for himself as it turned out, had 
 elected to cast in his lot with his kindred. This 
 addition to their force was a serious matter, for 
 a full-grown gray wolf is a pretty tough cus- 
 tomer. If the hounds could overtake them one 
 at a time, well and good ; but if it came to a 
 tussle with all three at once, I feared they might 
 come off second best. The wolves I could see 
 were becoming distressed, for they had been 
 forced beyond their natural pace, while the 
 hounds, still going strong, were gradually clos- 
 ing up the space between them. 
 
 About a quarter of a mile behind the hounds 
 rode Stock — the others were not yet in sight — 
 who, seeing me, called out : " Come on, Jamie, 
 we shall catch 'em directly." Down the hill I 
 rode therefore and fell in a little in his rear ; 
 which position, thanks to the comparative 
 
The Wolf-Hunt 37 
 
 freshness of my pony, I was now able to main- 
 tain. 
 
 It was a silent hunt, for neither wolves nor 
 hounds had a breath to spare, and in this order 
 on we went, the only change being that gradu- 
 ally we drew nearer and nearer to the chase. 
 Once, for an instant, when we had come within 
 a hundred yards of them, the wolves stopped 
 and turned, evidently with the idea of fighting 
 it out there and then ; but the presence of the 
 two riders daunted them and on they went 
 again. At length we turned a slight bend 
 in the draw, and there before us stood our 
 summer camp, the door of the herders' cabin 
 wide open — much to my surprise, for the sheep 
 had gone out at least two hours before and the 
 herders are always careful to shut their door 
 after them. 
 
 But there was no time for wonderment, for at 
 sight of the cabin the wolves seemed to become 
 possessed with a new idea and putting forth a 
 final effort they made straight for the open door. 
 The hounds, too, apparently divined their inten- 
 tion and spurted to such good effect that the 
 whole five, wolves and hounds, went tumbling 
 into the cabin together. 
 
38 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 Such a racket as followed I never heard ; but 
 above it all there arose one sharp cry of a human 
 voice, whether in fear, pain or surprise I could 
 not determine — somebody was in the cabin ! 
 
 Stock, of course, was the first to gallop up, 
 and springing from his horse he rushed in. It 
 was a strange sight that met his gaze. 
 
 There were the five fierce animals fighting to- 
 gether, snapping, snarling and yelling, a mass 
 of hair, legs and teeth, while beneath them, flat 
 on his face, was a Mexican boy, trying vainly to 
 crawl out. 
 
 Regardless of the snapping jaws, Stock sprang 
 in, grasped the boy by his arms, and dragging 
 him out of the cabin set him upon his feet. 
 The boy, who was only about fifteen years old 
 and small for his age, gasped and staggered for 
 a moment, but the instant he got his breath 
 again, to our great astonishment he ran back 
 into the cabin, seized the big butcher-knife from 
 its rack on the wall, and springing apparently 
 into the very midst of the fighting mass, with 
 a single dexterous blow he killed one of the 
 wolves. Then round and round the combatants 
 he hopped, awaiting his chance, until presently 
 in he went again and another wolf was stretched 
 
The Wolf-Hunt 39 
 
 lifeless on the floor. It was finely done. The 
 remaining wolf had no chance against the two 
 hounds ; in another moment it also was dead, 
 and the hunt was over. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 The Boy fkom Obispo 
 
 " T T TELL done, youngster ! " exclaimed Stock, 
 
 ^ ^ patting the boy on his shoulder. " You 
 are a brick ! " 
 
 The little Mexican, whose knowledge of Eng- 
 lish was limited, did not in the least understand 
 why he should be called a brick, but it was ob- 
 viously meant for a compliment, and so, 
 smilingly he replied : 
 
 " Ah, senor, it is not me who is so much a 
 breek, it is the senor who have pull me out 
 when I am down there under the wolfs." 
 
 " How did you come to be there? " I asked. 
 
 " I stay here in this house last night, senor, 
 with Jose Quintano and Albino Lopez. They 
 come from Obispo, over across the Trinity 
 Mountains. I, too, come from Obispo. I help 
 them this morning take out the sheep, and then 
 I come back and wash the dishes and sweep the 
 room and clean the stove. I am on my knees 
 40 
 
The Boy from Obispo 41 
 
 by the stove, when, bang ! there come in three 
 wolfs and two big dogs. I am knock down and 
 they fight all over me — it is very discomfortable. 
 I cannot get out, and I think in my head, * Now 
 pretty quick I am all tore up in small pieces.' 
 But the senor he pull me out and, lo-behold, I 
 am — how do you say ? — I am ' right side up 
 with care.* I am not hurt one little bit." 
 
 " Well, that's satisfactory. It certainly was 
 an uncomfortable position. But we must attend 
 to the animals. Drag out the wolves. Stock, 
 will you ? while I loosen the girths of the horses. 
 You, boy, give the hounds some water: they 
 need it." 
 
 By the time this was done, Mr. Meadows and 
 his two companions had ridden up, and to them 
 we related the part taken in the affair by the lit- 
 tle Mexican. 
 
 " That was very well done," said Mr. Meadows. 
 " The hounds would have had a hard time of it 
 without help. Are they much cut up? " 
 
 The hounds were examined and their wounds 
 washed and doctored by Mr. Meadows, who was 
 much gratified to find that they were not 
 seriously injured, for, thanks to the promptness 
 of the Mexican boy, the fight had hardly lasted 
 
42 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 two minutes altogether. While this was being 
 done, old Burrows was inspecting the dead 
 wolves. 
 
 " I guess you've got your sheep-stealers all 
 right, Meadows," said he. " One of these wolves 
 is a young one, but the others are old fellows 
 and both of them have scraps of wool stuck be- 
 tween their teeth." 
 
 *' Well, that's gratifying. And now — home 
 again ! No more hunting to-day. It was a hard 
 run, and both hounds and horses will be glad to 
 quit. Will you come back with us, Jamie, or do 
 you prefer to go home from here? " 
 
 " I think we may as well go on home," I 
 replied. " We are half way there already." 
 
 " Very well, then we'll say ' Good-bye.' I'm 
 much obliged to you for your help, both of you." 
 
 " It has been fine fun for me, sir," replied 
 Stock, as they shook hands. 
 
 " Yes, you were in luck, weren't you ? Well, 
 I hope you'll come again whenever there's a 
 hunt on hand ; though for that matter you 
 needn't wait for a hunt : come whenever you can 
 and stay as long as you like. Good-bye." 
 
 "Good-bye, sir; and thank you." 
 
 With that the three horsemen rode away, 
 
The Boy from Obispo 43 
 
 leaving Stock and me and the Mexican boy 
 standing outside the cabin. 
 
 " Well," said I, turning to the boy, '' where 
 are you going ? Are you looking for work ? " 
 
 *' Yes, sir, I look for work, sheep-herding — 
 any work. My father and my mother is dead. 
 My grandfather he live at Obispo ; he very old 
 man, he cannot work no more. I work, I get 
 much money, I send it to the good padre and so 
 my grandfather shall not have hunger." 
 
 " Did the good padre send you out to look for 
 work?" 
 
 ** Yes, sir. He give me this," taking a scrap 
 of paper from his pocket and handing it to me. 
 " He say, ' take this and go ; I will care for your 
 grandfather. ' " 
 
 I took the piece of paper and read : " This is 
 Jose Maria Sandoval. Any one employing him 
 will find him a good and faithful worker. 
 Michael Burke, Padre of Obispo." 
 
 " The padre appears to be an Irishman," re- 
 marked Stock. 
 
 '' Yes, he is an Irishman and a Catholic, and 
 for many years he has been the priest of the lit- 
 tle village of Obispo. But whatever his nation- 
 ality and his creed, he is a fine old fellow, to 
 
44 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 judge from the affection and respect he in- 
 spires in all these Mexicans. You didn't know, 
 did you, that all our herders come from Obispo ? 
 For several years now, whenever my father needs 
 a new herder he always writes a request to the 
 good padre to send him one, which he always 
 does, and they are always good men. Though 
 we have never seen him, he has been a valuable 
 friend to us ; and as to the Mexicans, ask any of 
 them and you will get the same answer, ' There 
 is no one like the good padre.' Eh, Jose? " 
 
 The youngster's eyes brightened. He had not 
 understood all I had said, but the last words 
 were clear to him and he replied quickly and 
 eagerly, " Si, senor, si, seiior. There is no one 
 like the good padre." 
 
 " I should like to meet him," said Stock. 
 
 " So should I. Perhaps we can manage it 
 some time. It would make a nice trip. It is 
 an out-of-the-way place, this Obispo valley, so 
 hard to reach over the high passes of the Trinity 
 range that people seldom go in there, and conse- 
 quently not much is known of it. If my father 
 will let us, w^e'll make an expedition there some 
 day. Not this fall, I'm afraid, but next year, 
 perhaps." 
 
The Boy from Obispo 45 
 
 *' That would be fine. But how about this 
 youngster, Jamie? Do you know any one who 
 wants a herder ? " 
 
 " Why, I've been thinking about that. You 
 know, my father has just bought that little 
 place down at Badger Springs, which he pro- 
 poses to stock with those Mexican ewes he has 
 contracted for with old Francisco Trujillo. 
 Well, when they get here he intends to put 
 them in charge of Juan Vigil ; and why 
 shouldn't this youngster take Juan's place? 
 The work is not hard : milking the cows, look- 
 ing after the horses, tending the invalid sheep 
 about the home place, and that sort of thing. 
 He could do it all right. What do you think ? " 
 
 '' Good idea ! Do you savvy all that, Hi- 
 dalgo?" 
 
 The boy grinned at being addressed by such 
 a grand title, for in Spanish the word ** Hidalgo " 
 means " son of somebody," meaning somebod}' 
 of importance ; whereas the youngster's parents 
 had never pretended to be anybody of impor- 
 tance. He merely shook his head, however, 
 and replied, " No, sir." 
 
 "Tell him, Jamie, will you?" said Stock. 
 " You can speak Spanish." 
 
46 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 I explained our plan to the boy, who very 
 readily and with many thanks agreed to it. 
 This being arranged, Stock and I once more 
 mounted our horses and away we went, the boy 
 trotting beside us. 
 
 We had made such an early start that morn- 
 ing from the Meadows place that we reached 
 home before dinner time ; my father and mother, 
 who had seen us coming, being both seated on 
 the piazza awaiting us. 
 
 " Well," exclaimed the latter. " You are back 
 early ; did you give up the hunt? " 
 
 " Not by any means," replied Stock. " We 
 had a grand hunt ; killed three wolves. This 
 little chap here killed two of them with his own 
 hand — though you wouldn't think it to look at 
 him." 
 
 " You certainly wouldn't. Tell us all about 
 it." 
 
 We related the history of our morning's ad- 
 venture, laying particular stress on the quick- 
 ness and courage of the little Mexican, and 
 winding up with the suggestion that he be given 
 the place of Juan Vigil when the latter should 
 take his departure to the Badger Springs camp. 
 
 ♦' Give me your scrap of paper, Jose," said I ; 
 
The Boy from Obispo 47 
 
 and handing it to my father, I continued : '' See, 
 father, he has a recommendation from the good 
 padre." 
 
 " Ah ! That is recommendation enough for 
 anybody. Well, Jamie, I'll tell you what we'll 
 do. Those Mexican ewes are to be ready for de- 
 livery at El Nido on the fifth of September. I 
 had intended sending you boys and Juan down 
 there to bring them up. As it is, this boy can 
 go with you instead of Juan, and if he proves 
 himself to be, as the good padre says, a good 
 and faithful worker, he shall take Juan's place 
 when Juan goes on to the new camp with the 
 flock." 
 
 This was very gratifying to Stock and me, for 
 we had taken a great fancy for the little fellow : 
 he was so bright and willing ; and moreover we 
 admired the spirit which had sent him wander- 
 ing from his home in order that he might earn 
 money for the support of his grandfather. 
 
 For the matter of that, though, there was 
 hardly one of our herders who did not every 
 month send back a large proportion of his wages 
 to his wife or his parents or, perhaps, to the 
 good padre to be expended for the benefit of 
 some needy relative. Nor was this custom con- 
 
48 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 fined to our particular set of herders : all the 
 sheepmen on the plains, I believe, would tell 
 the same story. A regard for filial duty, in fact, 
 seems to be natural to these primitive Mexicans, 
 and I have often privately thought that some 
 of us " superior " white people might take a les- 
 son from them with advantage. 
 
 The little Mexican's proper name, as I have 
 said, was Jose ; but we already had among our 
 herders three other Joses — Jose Quintano, Jose 
 Valdez and Jose Mendoza — so, to avoid con- 
 fusion, this youngster became known by the 
 title by which Stock had earlier addressed 
 him : Hidalgo ; an arrangement to which the 
 boy himself made no objection. 
 
 Little Hidalgo, therefore, was forthwith in- 
 stalled in the herders' cabin down by the 
 corrals — a low-roofed, box-like little edifice, 
 about twelve feet by twenty, built of inch 
 boards lined with tar-paper, and furnished with 
 several standard bunks, a table and three or 
 four stools. He and Juan Vigil were the only 
 occupants, for at this season of the year the 
 flocks and their herders were all down at the 
 southern camps. The only sheep just then 
 about the home place were the herd of bucks — 
 
The Boy from Obispo 49 
 
 curly-horned Merinos ; great fellows to fight — 
 and the little bunch of invalids, made up of 
 odd sheep from all the flocks, which for one 
 reason or another — a damaged foot, a bite from a 
 coyote — were unable to keep up with the others 
 on their daily promenade over the plains, and 
 had therefore been brought to the home place 
 to be cared for. 
 
 There was one other sheep on the place, how- 
 ever, which deserves special mention, for the 
 reason that he had made for himself a reputa- 
 tion which extended for fifty miles around. 
 This was Uncle Remus, a black, one-horned 
 wether — a sheep remarkable for the fact that he 
 was not afraid to stand up to a coyote ; the only 
 one of his kind I ever heard of 
 
 Uncle Remus had been left an orphan at the 
 early age of half an hour and had been brought 
 up on the bottle. He was a fine young lamb 
 and thrived wonderfully under the tender 
 ministrations of his nurse, Juan Vigil, until he 
 grew so strong and enterprising that he became 
 a nuisance among the invalids and was there- 
 fore turned out by himself in the little horse- 
 pasture adjoining the house. Here he at once 
 picked up an acquaintance with four frolicsome 
 
50 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 puppies with whom he spent many a merry 
 hour. The pups were about half grown, and at 
 first they lorded it over Uncle Remus with an 
 air of natural superiority to which the sheep 
 humbly submitted. At length, however, he 
 seemed to think that he had been long enough 
 the butt of these feather-brained persecutors, 
 and decided that he would become instead the 
 butter. One day, when the puppies insisted on 
 annoying him when he himself was anxious to 
 be left in peace, Uncle Remus suddenly charged 
 upon them, knocking over two of them and 
 sending the whole band flying for refuge to the 
 haven of their kennel. Having thus discovered 
 his powers, Uncle Remus thereafter in his turn 
 lorded it over the pups, while they on their part 
 behaved towards him with the greatest respect 
 and deference. 
 
 One efi^ect of this little victory Avas that Uncle 
 Remus became convinced that he could boss 
 any dog that lived. He did not molest the 
 puppies, unless they became too obstreperous, 
 allowing them many liberties for the sake of 
 old times ; but did one of our neighbors come 
 to see us, accompanied by a dog, the pugnacious 
 sheep would instantly charge upon the intruder, 
 
The Boy from Obispo 51 
 
 and, with a blow in his ribs from his cast-iron 
 skull, send him rolling over and over in the 
 grass. The dog, taken by surprise — for how 
 could he anticipate such behavior in a com- 
 mon, every-day sheep? — would fly yelping to 
 the shelter of the house or stable, leaving Uncle 
 Kemus standing there defiantly stamping his 
 little forefeet and feeling more than ever 
 assured that he was monarch of all he 
 surveyed. 
 
 But the real test came a few days after 
 Stock's arrival ; it was he who had the good 
 fortune to witness the whole affair from the 
 top of a neighboring hill. 
 
 A coyote slipped into the pasture and ran 
 quickly towards the sheep, thinking to make a 
 meal of him there and then. Uncle Remus, 
 not knowing a coyote from a dog, advanced 
 gaily to the fray ; seeing which, the coyote, 
 somewhat taken aback by such unusual con- 
 duct, stopped to see what was going to happen. 
 He was not long left in doubt. Uncle Remus 
 himself stopped about twenty feet away and 
 stood for a moment stamping his feet as usual, 
 working up his temper, and then, in two jumps, 
 bang ! he came against the astonished coyote, 
 
52 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 knocking him over backAvards. Hardly had 
 the marauder scrambled to his feet when an- 
 other fearful thump rolled him over again, 
 breaking two of his ribs and driving all the 
 breath out of his body. Matters were becom- 
 ing serious, and the coyote now thought only 
 of getting away. But this wise resolution came 
 too late ; the merciless pounding of the sheep 
 continued until at last the unfortunate beast, 
 with half his bones broken, lay dead upon the 
 grass. Uncle Remus had accomplished a feat 
 never before recorded of a sheep as far as I 
 know : he had killed a coyote single-handed ! 
 
 " It has often been a matter of wonder to me," 
 said my father, when Stock came in and related 
 this incident to us, ''that sheep do not more 
 often discover their own fighting powers. It 
 would be a fine thing for us sheepmen if they 
 did, for the depredations of the coyotes is one of 
 the most serious and constant causes of loss. If 
 a sheep only knew it, he could stand off a coyote 
 every time— that is to say, a full-grown sheep 
 could. A goat will do so; and for that very 
 reason many sheepmen keep one or two goats in 
 each flock. The bucks will do so, too, now and 
 then. But sheep in general, stupid things, seem 
 
The Boy from Obispo 53 
 
 to be bereft of their senses at sight of a coyote. 
 A bunch of a couple of thousand of them will 
 allow themselves to be harried at will by 
 one meagre little wolf; whereas, if they only 
 knew it, they could pound him into a jelly in 
 ten seconds." 
 
 But to return to Uncle Remus. This triumph 
 over the coyote so increased his high opinion of 
 himself that he became unbearable, even dan- 
 gerous ; for he took to charging human beings. 
 It may seem at first thought that a sheep could 
 hardly be dangerous to a man ; but when it is 
 remembered that he weighs one hundred pounds 
 or more, that his skull is like a lump of granite, 
 and that his muscular legs propel him forward 
 like a stone out of a catapult, it will be under- 
 stood that he might easily break a leg or a rib or 
 two. 
 
 We had about decided to send him away, 
 when, a day or two after Hidalgo's arrival, the 
 sheep's unruly conduct brought matters to a 
 climax. The boy had found a broken-legged 
 chicken and was on his knees in the horse-corral 
 putting the leg in splints, while Stock, standing 
 close beside him, was looking on. At this 
 moment Uncle Remus sauntered in, and unable 
 
54 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 to resist the tempting chance he forthwith 
 charged upon Hidalgo. The little Mexican 
 might have been badly hurt, he might even have 
 been killed, for he was head-on to the sheep, 
 had not Stock caught sight of the coming thun- 
 derbolt. With a shout to Hidalgo to look out, 
 he seized the sheep as it passed, and swinging it 
 round, with one vigorous heave he cast it head- 
 long into the horse-pond, whence the erstwhile 
 valiant Uncle Remus presently emerged, a sorry 
 and bedraggled spectacle, with all the fight 
 washed out of him. 
 
 This little episode settled his fate. Next 
 morning Uncle Remus was caught, his feet 
 were tied together, and he was tumbled into the 
 two-wheeled cart and driven down to one of the 
 summer camps, where he was turned into the 
 wether flock. Here he at once assumed the 
 leadership of his twenty-two hundred friends 
 and relations, constituting himself guardian of 
 the flock, and turning to good account his fight- 
 ing talent by worsting every coyote that was un- 
 wise enough to venture within his reach. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 The Drive 
 
 I HAVE spoken several times of the Badger 
 Springs place. It lay about five miles north- 
 east of the home ranch, and as the ownership of 
 the water included the right to range over a con- 
 siderable tract of country, its acquirement 
 formed a valuable addition to my father's hold- 
 ings. To stock this place he had purchased two 
 thousand Mexican ewes, intending to grade 
 them up to fifteen-sixteenths Merinos ; a cross- 
 breed which has been found well adapted to 
 sheep-life on the plains. The Merino is a hardy 
 beast and is valuable for his wool, which is a 
 fine, long, silky staple, while the strain of 
 Mexican blood in his veins gives him the ^' rust- 
 ling " qualities which enable him to stand all 
 sorts of weather and to pick up a living where 
 other sheep would starve. 
 
 This flock of sheep had been purchased from 
 a well-to-do Mexican sheepman, the Seiior 
 Francisco Trujillo, who lived at a little place 
 55 
 
56 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 called El Nido, which, as its name indicates, was 
 perched like a ** nest " among the foothills of the 
 Trinity range, some distance south of the Obispo 
 pass. They were to be ready for delivery on the 
 fifth of September, and when the appointed 
 time drew near my father sent Stock and me and 
 little Hidalgo down to El Nido to drive them 
 up. 
 
 It was with much pleasure we set off one 
 beautiful morning in a little two-wheeled cart. 
 Stock and I on the seat and Hidalgo cocked up 
 on the *' grub-box " behind, driving an ancient 
 and reliable pony, whose name. Napoleon Bona- 
 parte, was commonly abbreviated to Bony, in 
 reference to his very knobby appearance. He 
 was no beauty to look at, nor was he a speedy 
 traveler, for he was old and somewhat stiff, but 
 he had on the other hand two or three valuable 
 qualities which fitted him particularly for the 
 task on hand. Had we chosen to do so, we 
 might have ridden down or driven a pair of 
 good horses in the buckboard, but we knew that 
 when we started on our return journey with the 
 sheep we should have to walk the whole dis- 
 tance, and slowly at that, and we preferred not 
 to be encumbered with horses which would re- 
 
The Drive ^y 
 
 quire looking after. We therefore decided to 
 take old Bony, whom, as we knew from experi- 
 ence, we could trust to stay near our camp at 
 night and to follow the flock all day without 
 guidance ; thus leaving us free to give all our 
 attention to the sheep. 
 
 El Nido lay across the border in New Mexico. 
 None of us had ever been down there before, 
 and all we knew of the course we had to take 
 was its general direction. We did know, how- 
 ever, that about half way down we should have 
 to cross the San Carlos, a notoriously tricky 
 stream, which, having its head in the Trinity 
 Mountains, ran, hugging the high cliffs of the 
 southern mesa-land, first easterly and then 
 southerly to join the Red River. This stream 
 had a wide notoriety for its unreliability ; it 
 would be probably dry or thereabouts at this 
 season of the year, but on the other hand it 
 might, even in September, hold us up for two or 
 three days with high water. As it was neces- 
 sary that we be promptly on hand on the day 
 specified, we decided that we could not afford to 
 take any chances, so, instead of cutting straight 
 across country as we might have done, we de- 
 termined instead to allow ourselves an extra day 
 
58 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 and by diverging considerably to the left — down 
 stream — to cross by the toll-bridge. 
 
 Having plenty of time, we took it leisurely, 
 and about noon next day we reached the San 
 Carlos which we found on this occasion to be a 
 stream of most decorous and mild-mannered ap- 
 pearance, for there was no more than a trickle 
 of water in it. It was evident, though, that it 
 did sometimes go on the rampage, for we noted 
 heaps of drift-wood and piles of sand at least 
 fifteen feet above its present level. 
 
 On our side, the plains sloped gently down to 
 the stream, but on the other were perpendicular 
 cliffs three hundred feet high, the only break in 
 which, as far as we could see, was the deep cleft 
 by which the road ascended. Having crossed 
 the bridge, therefore, we slowly climbed the long 
 hill, until, at the end of an hour, we found our- 
 selves on top of the pinon-covered mesa, which 
 stretched in a long slope to the foothills of the 
 range. 
 
 In a sheltered nook among the trees we en- 
 camped that night, and early next morning 
 started again. Towards sunset the road turned 
 westward up a long, narrow valley at the head 
 of which we presently espied several square, 
 
The Drive 59 
 
 whitewashed buildings. This was the Trujillo 
 place, and in another hour we found ourselves 
 shaking hands with Don Francisco himself. 
 
 Seiior Trujillo was a dried-up little man, 
 whose wrinkled brown face was half hidden by 
 a fierce-looking white moustache ; his dress, 
 which was trim and well-fitting, included a big, 
 high-crowned, silver-braided sombrero and enor- 
 mous spurs on his neat little boots — for like all 
 Mexicans of the better class, and nearly all 
 Mexicans of any class, he had small and well- 
 shaped feet. With true Spanish hospitality he 
 bade us welcome, placing at our disposal his 
 house and all that was his. 
 
 While old Bony went off to the stable in 
 charge of Hidalgo and one of the peons, we our- 
 selves were ushered into a big earth-roofed adobe 
 room, where in a few minutes we all sat down 
 to a welcome supper of which the chief feature 
 was an immense dish of chile-con-carne — a mut- 
 ton stew made so fearfully hot with red peppers 
 that it brought the tears to our eyes when we 
 tried to eat it. 
 
 The meal over, we adjourned to another big 
 room, when, after a few minutes of silence, the 
 little gentleman turned to me and said ; 
 
6o Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 " Which way do you propose to return, seiior, 
 by the bridge or by the ford ? " 
 
 " By the bridge," I replied. " We are not 
 familiar with this part of the country, and were 
 not even aware that there was a ford." 
 
 " Oh, yes, there is what is called the Island 
 ford ; it is not much used now, but before the 
 bridge was built it was the customary crossing 
 place. It lies due north from here and by going 
 that way you would save about twenty miles of 
 'drive ' and forty dollars in tolls ; for they will 
 charge you two cents a head for the sheep if you 
 go by the bridge." 
 
 " That's quite an item by itself," remarked 
 Stock. " Do you think the ford will be passable 
 for sheep, senor?" 
 
 " I think so," replied Trujillo. " The stream 
 is very low just now and there is probably not 
 three inches of water at the ford. It is to be 
 remembered, of course, that the San Carlos is 
 an untrustworthy stream, but at this time of 
 year floods are hardly to be expected, and I 
 think you would be perfectly safe to go that 
 way. It is true, I have not been there myself 
 for a long time, and therefore cannot speak 
 with certainty as to the present condition of 
 
The Drive 6 1 
 
 the ford, but I feel sure it would be a safe ven- 
 ture." 
 
 " What do you think, Jamie? " asked Stock. 
 
 '' I think it is worth trying," I replied ; " for 
 even if we should find too much water, we could 
 still turn eastward and go by the bridge." 
 
 " Yes ; and if we can cross, it will be a great 
 saving. I vote we try it, anyhow." 
 
 " Very well, we will. Which way do we go, 
 senor? " 
 
 " About three miles below here," replied our 
 host, " you will find an old road turning off to 
 the left — there is a pile of stones and a wooden 
 cross in the fork of the roads ; you cannot miss 
 it. Take the left hand road ; it is dim from 
 disuse, but it is still easily followed, and it Avill 
 take you straight to the ford. The grass is good 
 and the traveling will be pleasant, for the mesa 
 is well covered with pinons and cedars right up 
 to the edge of the bluff" where you go down to 
 the San Carlos." 
 
 " Thank you, senor. Then we'll go by the ford." 
 
 The sheep were all ready for us in the morn- 
 ing — a scraggy-looking lot to our eyes, accus- 
 tomed to the close-coated, flat-backed Merinos — 
 but they appeared to be well grown and in good 
 
62 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 condition. It took us half an hour to run them 
 through the chute and count them out, when, 
 the tally of two thousand having been found to 
 be correct, we bade our hospitable host '* Good- 
 bye" and started on our return journey. 
 
 We found the wooden cross in due time, and 
 taking the left hand road went slowl}^ along. 
 The sheep traveled freely, feeding as the}^ went, 
 for the grass was good, and though the trees 
 were pretty thick at times there Avere frequent 
 large open spaces and on the whole we had little 
 difficulty in keeping an eye on our charges. 
 
 The flock went forward spread out pretty 
 widely on both sides of the road, followed by 
 the four herders — counting old Bony as one. 
 The old pony, indeed, seemed perfectly to under- 
 stand the part he was expected to play, though 
 he was perhaps a little too zealous and was apt 
 to push his charges a trifle too fast. Every now 
 and then he would make a brief excursion from 
 the road for the express purpose of biting one 
 of the sheep which in his opinion was lagging 
 too far behind the others, seemingly regarding 
 it as an immense joke if he could succeed in 
 slipping up on some unsuspecting sheep and 
 nipping a mouthful of wool out of its back. So 
 
The Drive 63 
 
 eager was he, indeed, that on one occasion he 
 forgot the cart he was drawing and jammed it 
 immovably between two trees, so that Stock had 
 to return to his assistance and chop down one of 
 the trees before he could be extricated. 
 
 Bony's assistance was, in fact, so effective that, 
 after three or four hours, when the sheep had 
 begun to learn that they were expected to travel 
 straight forward and not diverge too far from 
 the road, one of us, generally Stock, was set free 
 to go on in advance with the shotgun ; by which 
 course we secured half-a-dozen fat young grouse ; 
 for a recent snowfall on the range had already 
 sent them down from the high places. 
 
 We had brought the gun with us, partly in 
 the hope that we might have such occasions to 
 use it, but more particularly as a means of de- 
 fense against range cattle ; for to a man on foot 
 the range steer is by far the most dangerous of 
 all the wild animals that inhabit the foothills. 
 Every other beast, coyote, wolf, bear, mountain- 
 lion, will run away from a man, but the range 
 steer seems to be consumed by an insatiable 
 curiosity and the sight of a pedestrian will bring 
 him galloping up to investigate the unfamiliar 
 biped. For though a man on horseback is a 
 
64 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 familiar sight to him and one upon which he 
 will bestow no more than a passing glance, a 
 man on foot is a mysterious phenomenon which 
 must be at once inquired into. At a distance 
 of twenty or thirty yards the steer will stand for 
 a time, shaking his head in a threatening man- 
 ner, and then, as likely as not, he will conclude 
 to come and poke up the strange object with his 
 horns. In such a case a shotgun is a very use- 
 ful instrument with which to persuade him to 
 change his mind. 
 
 But neither shotgun nor rifle even will al- 
 ways prove effective. I have heard of one in- 
 stance where a man was found dead upon the 
 plains, his empty Winchester beside him and 
 fourteen dead steers around him. He had stood 
 them off until his cartridges were exhausted, 
 when the remaining animals had killed him. 
 
 Our drive for that day ended early in the 
 afternoon, for we did not wish to push the sheep 
 too hard at first, when, having reached a large 
 grassy opening in the trees across which ran a 
 little stream of water, we allowed the flock to 
 spread out widely to feed until sunset. Then, 
 while Stock chopped wood and I got things 
 ready for supper, Hidalgo went off in charge of 
 
The Drive 65 
 
 the sheep, and pretty soon we heard his mouth- 
 organ tootling away in the distance. 
 
 Like so many others of the Mexican herders, 
 Hidalgo was addicted to making music with a 
 mouth-organ. That is to say, he thought it was 
 music, though, as a matter of fact, it must be 
 confessed that the youngster was an infamous 
 performer, the gusty, wheezy screeching of his 
 instrument inflicting tortures on his suffering 
 audience. Even his uncritical compatriots could 
 not stand it, and later in the year, when the 
 regular herders had come up with their flocks to 
 the home place they would always turn Hidalgo 
 out of the cabin when a musical fit possessed 
 him. The only living creatures which appeared 
 to appreciate his genius were the sheep. Many 
 a time, on going the rounds after supper, I 
 have found Hidalgo perched on the corral fence, 
 playing the flock to sleep ; for upon the sheep 
 his music seemed to have a soothing effect in 
 spite of false notes and unpremeditated flourishes. 
 It may have been, though, that, knowing 
 there was no other way of escape, they took 
 refuge in slumber. One of them, at least, showed 
 a wide-awake enjoyment of the performance. 
 This was Uncle Remus, who, as soon as Hidalgo 
 
66 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 appeared, would take his stand before him and re- 
 main there listening with all his ears. It occurred 
 to me that Uncle Remus might possibly be har- 
 boring in his mind a hope that Hidalgo would 
 descend on his side of the fence and thus give him 
 a chance to knock the musician and his music 
 into the middle of next week. But Hidalgo him- 
 self had no such qualms ; he accepted with com- 
 placency the flattering appreciation of his 
 powers, and quite dismissed any lingering ani- 
 mosity he might have felt towards the fighting 
 wether for his former attempt at assault and bat- 
 tery. 
 
 As soon as it became dusk the sheep were 
 gathered in a bunch and for half an hour we all 
 three walked round and round them — Hidalgo 
 on his mouth-organ playing some tune which, 
 as far as we could tell, might have been one of 
 his own composing — by which time they had all 
 settled down comfortably for the night. 
 
 The little Mexican and I then went off to bed, 
 leaving Stock to stand guard till midnight ; the 
 arrangement being that the boy should then go 
 on till daylight, while I was to take first watch 
 on the night following. 
 
 Nothing occurred to disturb us, and early next 
 
The Drive 67 
 
 morning we started again, traveling slowly all 
 day, until, about three in the afternoon, we 
 reached the point where we had to go down 
 from the high mesa-land to the San Carlos, be- 
 yond which the rolling plain spread unbroken 
 to the Spring Creek ranch. The mesa ended ab- 
 ruptly in a high cliff which extended for miles 
 east and west, the only means of descent at this 
 point being a narrow, steep gully down which 
 we went, enveloped in a cloud of dust raised 
 by the eight thousand pairs of sharp-pointed 
 hoofs. 
 
 As we neared the bottom, the whole flock, 
 suddenly and with one accord, rushed down the 
 gully, ran about a hundred j^ards out into the 
 open, and there stopped, bunched and faced 
 about. 
 
 When they started on their brief stampede we 
 merely supposed that the sheep had smelt water 
 and were running forward to get a drink, but 
 their action in bunching and looking back 
 showed that they had seen or smelt something 
 to alarm them. We looked about, but there w\as 
 too much dust still hanging in the arroyo for us 
 to see anything distinctly, so, supposing that the 
 disturbance had been caused by a vagrant co- 
 
68 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 yote, we thought no more of it, but driving the 
 sheep up to where there grew a few trees and 
 some rather scanty grass we walked forward to 
 look at the ford. 
 
 To our great disappointment we found about 
 eighteen inches of muddy water coursing swiftly 
 down the creek bed. There was no crossing 
 that day ; but knowing the reputation of the 
 San Carlos for variability we prepared to camp 
 where we were, feeling pretty sure that the rise 
 of the creek was due to a passing storm up in 
 the mountains, and that there was an excellent 
 chance that the water would have subsided by 
 morning. 
 
 '' Jamie," said Stock, " why do you suppose 
 this is called the ' Island ' ford ? There's no 
 island here." 
 
 " Why," I replied, " I expect our camping- 
 ground here is an island sometimes. I think it 
 is most likely that in very high water the stream 
 runs down this channel and at the foot of the 
 bluffs as well. Let us go up-stream a little way 
 and take a look." 
 
 I was right. A short distance up-stream the 
 creek, issuing from a little canon, made a slight 
 bend northward and about a mile below came 
 
The Drive 69 
 
 back again to the line of bluffs. It was evident, 
 however, that the original creek-bed lay at the 
 foot of the cliff, but by some freak the stream 
 had piled up a bar of sand across its mouth, 
 thus sending the water off to the left. More- 
 over, it was also evident from the drift-wood 
 scattered along its course that the stream some- 
 times ran both ways at once, converting our 
 camping-ground into a temporary island. 
 
 '' Stock," said I, '' I don't exactly like this. If 
 it should happen to set in for a rainy spell in 
 the mountains — it isn't very likely, I know, at 
 this time of year — but if it should rain hard 
 enough to send the water down both channels 
 at once we might be corraled here for a week or 
 more ; which would be pretty awkward, for there 
 is not grass enough on this ' island ' to last more 
 than a couple of days. I think, if we find in 
 the morning that the stream has not gone 
 down, or at least is not going down, we had 
 better go back up the gully and make for the 
 bridge." 
 
 Stock nodded. " I think you're right, Jamie. 
 I don't half like going back ; but this is certainly 
 a rather risky place for sheep. It is even possible 
 that at times this ' island ' is entirely covered ; 
 
JO Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 though certainly I don't see any signs of such a 
 thing." 
 
 " No," I replied. " But you never can trust 
 the creeks in this part of the country, they are 
 so sudden and so violent. We'll get out again in 
 the morning I think unless the stream is plainly 
 going down." 
 
 We allowed the sheep to feed pretty late that 
 evening, for the grass being rather scarce and 
 scattered it took them longer than usual to get 
 all they wanted, and about dusk I went on 
 guard, taking the shotgun with me, while the 
 other two went to bed. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 A Lion in the Path 
 
 I NOTICED when I took the flock that the 
 sheep seemed somewhat fidgety. There was 
 scarcely any wind blowing, but every now and 
 then a pufF would come from the direction of the 
 gully, upon which occasions those sheep which 
 were still standing up would turn and look in 
 that direction, while those lying down, or some 
 of them, would get up, move a few paces, stare 
 in the same direction, and then lie down again. 
 Evidently the wind brought with it some scent 
 the sheep did not like, possibly the same scent 
 which had caused them to bolt out of the gully 
 earlier in the day. As it became dark, however, 
 the puffs of wind ceased and the sheep settled 
 down ; everj^thing remained quiet, and I had 
 kept my solitary vigil, walking round and round 
 the flock until nearly midnight, when suddenly 
 every sheep sprang to its feet and made a rush 
 towards me. I ran quickly round to the opposite 
 71 
 
72 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 side of the flock, but, though the sheep were 
 plainly apprehensive, for they all stood huddled 
 close together facing in the direction of the gully, 
 I could see nothing. The light was very dim, for 
 though there was half a moon it was obscured 
 by a thin veil of clouds. What it was that had 
 alarmed the flock I could not imagine, unless it 
 were a coyote, and as the sheep presently settled 
 down again I continued my walk, keeping my 
 ears open, however, for any unusual sounds. 
 
 For about half an hour everything remained 
 quiet, when the same thing happened once 
 more. Again the sheep sprang up and made a 
 rush towards me, and again I ran round to the 
 opposite side of the flock — the side towards the 
 bluffs. There for a minute or two I stood still, 
 peering in the direction in which the sheep were 
 facing, and presently I thought I saw something 
 crouching among the grass. Advancing cau- 
 tiously towards it I w^as halted by a deep growl 
 which sent my heart into my mouth. Without 
 consideration of consequences, I clapped the gun 
 to my shoulder and pulled the trigger. A fear- 
 ful yell followed the shot — such a sound as a cat 
 will make if you accidentally tread upon her 
 tail, only a hundred times as loud — but when 
 
THE LITTLE MEXICAN WAVING ABOVE HIS HEAD A FLAMING STICK' 
 
A Lion in the Path 73 
 
 the smoke blew aside I saw that the animal, 
 whatever it was, was gone. 
 
 The shot, of course, awakened both my com- 
 panions, and I heard Stock's voice shouting, 
 " Where are you, Jamie ? " 
 
 " Over here," I cried in reply ; upon which 
 they both came running, the little Mexican wav- 
 ing above his head a flaming stick which he had 
 snatched out of the fire. 
 
 " What did you shoot at? " asked the former, 
 as soon as they had joined me. 
 
 ''I don't know, but " 
 
 At that moment, as though by way of an- 
 swer to Stock's question, there broke out from 
 the direction of the gully a most fearful scream- 
 ing ; I had never heard such a sound before ; it 
 made me shiver. It was like what I should 
 imagine the screaming of a crazy woman 
 might be. 
 
 " What on earth is it?" I exclaimed. 
 
 " It is mountain-lions, senor," replied the 
 little Mexican ; ''I have heered them many 
 times in the mountains. There is three-four 
 of them ; but they are fearful beasts " — he 
 meant cowardly — "they will not hurt us. I 
 think they have stole one sheep. Wait you 
 
74 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 one little minute, I make more bright the fire 
 and they shall come back no more." 
 
 Away he ran, and soon a big crackling fire 
 lighted up the whole scene — the trembling 
 sheep all crowded close together ; old Bony 
 with his head up and his ears cocked ; the 
 little Mexican running to and fro, throwing 
 more wood upon the fire ; the trunks of the 
 surrounding cottonwood trees, coming and go- 
 ing in the fitful light ; and in the distance the 
 long, dim line of sandstone cliffs. 
 
 The blazing fire seemed to have the effect 
 desired ; we were disturbed no more ; and after 
 walking up and down with Stock for an hour 
 or so, seeing that the sheep had all lain down 
 once more, I left him to finish out the night by 
 himself 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is, Jamie," said he, as I 
 walked off towards our camp. " The sooner 
 we're out of this place the better. These ' lions ' 
 may be ' fearful beasts ' or they may not, but as 
 far as I'm concerned, I don't at all admire the 
 notion of standing guard here and having one 
 of them slip up on me in the dark and jump 
 upon my back." 
 
 " Nor I," I replied, involuntarily humping 
 
A Lion in the Path 75 
 
 my shoulders at the thought. '* We will cer- 
 tainly get out to-morrow, one way or the other." 
 
 This was an excellent resolution, but we found 
 that there are occasions when it is one thing to 
 make a resolution and quite another thing to 
 carry it out. 
 
 With the coming of daylight things assumed 
 a more cheerful aspect — as they usually do ; a 
 good hot breakfast, too, was a great help ; and 
 more than all, an examination of the creek, 
 which we made the very first thing, showed 
 that it was going down. It is true that it was 
 actually higher than it had been the day be- 
 fore, but from the position of the bits of drift- 
 wood, still wet, which were left along the bank, 
 we felt sure that the water was receding. Mark- 
 ing its position by means of two or three sticks 
 stuck into the sand at the margin of the water, 
 we went back to camp for breakfast, and on re- 
 turning to the stream after that meal we had 
 the satisfaction of finding that the water had 
 retired from them six or seven inches. 
 
 •' Good ! " exclaimed Stock. " If it keeps 
 that up we ought to be able to get across about 
 noon. What do you think, Jamie, shall we 
 wait?" 
 
jt Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 " Yes, I certainly think so," I replied. " Even 
 if we wait till two o'clock and then find we 
 can't cross, it will give us plenty of time to 
 drive the flock up the gully and make camp 
 before dark." 
 
 " All right, then : if we can't begin to cross 
 at two o'clock we'll go the other way and start 
 for the bridge. I shall be sorry if we have to 
 do so, though: here we are, a short two days 
 from home, whereas, if we have to go by the 
 bridge it will be three days or more. Still if 
 we must, we must ; so we may as well make the 
 best of it. I think we shall get across, though, 
 for, see, the water has gone down another two 
 inches while we have been standing here." 
 
 Hidalgo had taken charge of the sheep while 
 this discussion was going on, and at this moment 
 we heard him calling to us. 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Stock, as we walked up 
 to where he was standing. 
 
 The boy pointed to an object lying on the 
 ground a few yards away — a dead sheep. It 
 had been dragged some distance, and doubtless 
 the lion that had killed it was the one I had 
 fired at during the night. The beast, with its 
 feline ability to see in the dark, had presumably 
 
A Lion in the Path ^'J 
 
 watched until I had gone round to the far side 
 of the flock, and then, springing upon its 
 victim, had broken its neck with one blow of 
 its paw. No wonder the other sheep had rushed 
 from the spot. 
 
 But there had been two '' rushes " during the 
 night, and the question was, had we lost any 
 more sheep ? This question was soon settled, for 
 not far away we found a mark on the ground 
 where a heavy body had been dragged along, 
 and following this trail to the mouth of the 
 gully, we there came upon a sheep's skull and 
 much wool scattered about. 
 
 Moreover, on looking around, we made a new 
 discovery which the cloud of dust had concealed 
 from us when we drove the flock down the 
 arroyo the day before. The face of the sand- 
 stone cliff' on one side was pitted with many 
 caves, little and big, and doubtless the sheep- 
 stealers were at that moment ensconced in some 
 of them. We discussed the possibility of smoking 
 them out, but that seemed to be hopeless : there 
 were too many holes, for one thing ; they were 
 high up, and to carry wood up to them would 
 be a difficult and tedious task ; what wind there 
 was, too, blew in the wrong direction. Besides 
 
yS Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 all this, we were tolerably sure that there were 
 at least two lions — for all we knew there might 
 be several more — and if we did succeed in routing 
 them out, and if, again, in spite of their notorious 
 cowardliness, they should take it into their heads 
 to attack us, it would be, as Stock remarked, " a 
 pretty risky job to fight a Avhole flock of lions 
 with only one shotgun." 
 
 " That's true," said I. " And at the best we 
 could not expect to do more than wound one or 
 two of them; and a wounded lion is not quite so 
 harmless as people seem to think. I have heard 
 of one, at any rate, which besieged a man in his 
 cabin all night long and did his very best to 
 break in. If I had known that it was a lion that 
 confronted me in the dark last night I should 
 have thought twice before I fired at him." 
 
 " Well, then," said Stock, " I vote we let them 
 off this time. We shall be three or four miles 
 away before dark, and it is not likely they will 
 trouble us any more." 
 
 To this we agreed, and returning to camp, we 
 waited impatiently for the water to go down. 
 By noontime it had so far receded that we had 
 great hopes of being able to cross in a couple of 
 hours, and after dinner we got the sheep to- 
 
A Lion in the Path 79 
 
 gether in readiness to attempt the passage. 
 What was our disappointment therefore when, 
 on going down for a last look, we found that 
 that tricky stream had risen again, and not only 
 so, but was increasing in volume with much 
 greater rapidity than it had subsided. 
 
 " Well, that settles it," I exclaimed in disgust. 
 "There's no getting over to-day. We may as 
 well start for the bridge at once. I'm sorry we 
 ever came this way. We've lost a whole day 
 already." 
 
 " Never mind," said Stock. " It's a disappoint- 
 ment, of course, but we did our best, and there's 
 no great harm done. Come ! Let's lose no more 
 time ; let us start for the bridge at once." 
 
 "All right," said I, brightening up under 
 my companion's cheerful influence. " Turn the 
 sheep, Hidalgo," I shouted to the little Mexican, 
 who was standing on the far side of the flock, 
 waiting for the word to advance; " we've got to 
 go the other way." 
 
 We started at once, and drove the flock across 
 the " island " to the mouth of the gully ; but 
 there we met with an unexpected check. The 
 moment the sheep reached the spot where the 
 wool was scattered about they stopped, refusing 
 
8o Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 to budge. The scent of the lions was doubtless 
 strong there, and all our shouting and " boosting," 
 failed to move the flock a single step forward. 
 According to their custom when they have made 
 up their minds not to move, the sheep " ringed " ; 
 that is to say, those in the centre of the bunch 
 stood passive and inert, while those in the rear 
 when compelled to make a move merely ran 
 round the bunch to the rear again. Time after 
 time we broke up the ring, only to have the 
 obstinate creatures run back and form another. 
 At last, after more than an hour of this work, 
 I proposed to build a fire on the objectionable 
 spot and see if we could not burn out the scent. 
 
 A fire was soon made, and when, in the course 
 of half an hour or so, it had died down again, 
 the sheep were driven forward once more. They 
 were more than half disposed to balk again, but 
 at last, after much urging, one ewe, though 
 evidently still very suspicious, after several false 
 starts made a bolt for it, when, according to 
 their well-known habit, all the rest immediately 
 rushed forward and the dreaded spot was passed. 
 
 So far, so good. A hundred yards farther up, 
 however, they stopped again ; nor was it sur- 
 prising, for here the scent of the lions was so 
 
A Lion in the Path 8i 
 
 strong we could smell it ourselves. Our efforts 
 to move the flock were vain. Again and again 
 we pushed our way through the ring, only to 
 have the sheep break back on us every time. 
 Every device we could think of we tried, but all 
 in vain : the sheep refused to advance. 
 
 At last Hidalgo and I, leaving Stock to hold 
 the flock, went up the gully, and collecting a 
 large quantity of wood, built several small fires 
 along the sides of the arroyo, hoping that the 
 smoke would so disguise the scent that the sheep 
 would not notice it. The wind blew the smoke 
 down the draw straight into their faces, and it 
 was nip and tuck whether Stock would be able 
 to prevent the sheep from making a bolt for it ; 
 but the gully was narrow just there, and he suc- 
 ceeded in holding them until the smoke had 
 thinned down to a haze, when we made another 
 attempt to get them forward. 
 
 It really looked as though we were going to 
 succeed this time, for we got the sheep started, 
 and even progressed a hundred yards, but just 
 as we were beginning to congratulate ourselves 
 on the success of our artifice there broke out 
 once more from some invisible point that same 
 horrible screaming we had heard in the night. 
 
82 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 This was too much for the nerves of the already 
 harassed sheep. With one accord the entire 
 flock turned and bolted down the arroyo, carry- 
 ing us with them. In one minute our whole 
 afternoon's work was undone. 
 
 This work had taken us a long time and it was 
 now too late to begin all over again, for even if 
 we should succeed in getting the flock up the 
 arroyo, we had still to find a good place to hold 
 them during the night. We therefore made our 
 camp once more in the old place, and by way of 
 precaution we gathered material for four large 
 fires to keep the lions at a distance ; our inten- 
 tion being to bring the flock close up to our 
 camp among the trees and to keep a good big fire 
 going on four sides of them. 
 
 Our situation, though, was pretty awkward. 
 We were virtually prisoners. On one side of us 
 was a stream which the sheep could not pass and 
 on the other a gully which they would not pass. 
 Yet, pass they must, the one or the other, for 
 there was no other way out. 
 
 " We'll try the arroyo again to-morrow, of 
 course," said Stock, as we sat at supper, " unless 
 by good luck the stream should have gone down 
 meanwhile, and I think our best way will be to 
 
A Lion in the Path 83 
 
 make a big smoke there the very first thing so 
 that the sheep won't begin by getting a scent of 
 the lions. If they won't go, why then " 
 
 '' Well, what then ? " I asked. 
 
 " Why," replied my companion, thoughtfully 
 rubbing his chin, " the only other way I see is 
 to load them into the cart and ferry them over 
 the stream piecemeal. The cart would hold 
 eight or nine, I could carry two and you could 
 carry one, and in that way we could get them 
 across in course of time." 
 
 " Yes, in course of time we could," I replied, 
 " but I'm afraid it would be a precious long 
 course of time. Suppose we could take over a 
 dozen at a trip : to catch the sheep, load them, 
 carry them over and come back, would take us 
 probably half an hour for each trip, and to 
 transport two thousand sheep in that way would 
 take us — let's see — it would take us five days if 
 we worked sixteen hours a day. I'm afraid that 
 scheme won't do, Stock." 
 
 "Hm!" said Stock. "That's so. Well, 
 there's only one other way left that I can see. 
 If we don't get out to-morrow, one of us will 
 have to take the cart, drive home as fast as pos- 
 sible, and come back with all the men and 
 
84 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 wagons he can gather. In that way, anyhow, 
 we can ferry them over." 
 
 " Yes, we could do it that way ; though even 
 then it would take two days, not counting to- 
 morrow, before we could get back with the 
 wagons, and the sheep would be getting pretty 
 hungry by that time, for there is hardly grass 
 enough left here to last them over night. Still, 
 that by itself won't hurt them, for there is plenty 
 of water, and it is wonderful how long a sheep 
 will live on water alone, especially your hardy 
 Mexican. So, if we absolutely cannot get out 
 any other way, we have that as a last resource at 
 least." 
 
 As it became dark we brought up the sheep 
 near our camp among the trees, and having 
 settled them for the night we lighted our four 
 fires, the glow of which we felt satisfied would 
 keep the lions at a respectful distance. It was 
 Hidalgo's turn to take first watch, and I noticed 
 that the little Mexican before going on took his 
 blanket and folded it over his shoulders shawl- 
 wise, fastening it around his middle with a piece 
 of cord. 
 
 " Hallo, Hidalgo ! " said I. " Putting on your 
 armor to fight the lions ? " 
 
A Lion in the Path 85 
 
 The boy smiled. " No, senor," said he, " I am 
 not afeared of the lions ; but there come pretty 
 soon plenty rain." 
 
 " How do you know ? " I asked ; for as far as 
 I could see there was no sign of rain. 
 
 Hidalgo shrugged his shoulders. " Quien 
 sahef" he replied ; and I knew it was no use 
 questioning him further. He knew ; but he 
 did not know how he knew. Nevertheless, 
 though to me his apprehensions seemed ground- 
 less, I was aware that the warning was not to 
 be disregarded, for some of these Mexicans seem 
 to be gifted with a wonderful weather-sense. 
 Before going to bed, therefore, I took such 
 small precautions as I could ; though all I 
 really could do was to stow away all our pro- 
 visions and an armful of dry wood in our 
 water-tight " grub-box." This done, Stock and 
 I lay down in our blankets on the grass — or, 
 rather, on the gravel — leaving Hidalgo on 
 guard, with instructions to keep the fires going 
 and to rouse us at the first alarm. 
 
 For some time we lay listening to the lions 
 which were making a great to-do over in the 
 arroyo, but as there was no disturbance among 
 the sheep we concluded that the enemy was 
 
86 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 afraid to come near us, and presently we fell 
 sound asleep and forgot them and everything else. 
 
 It was probably about midnight that we were 
 aroused by the eager voice of Hidalgo exclaim- 
 ing, " Wake up, senores, wake up ! There come 
 much water ! " 
 
 We sprang up, wide awake in an instant, and 
 listened. The lions had given up howling by 
 this time, and the sheep were all asleep. The 
 night was absolutely silent except that towards 
 the west we could hear a dull murmur which 
 increased in volume every moment. We hoped 
 it might be only the wind in the cedars, but it 
 sounded ominously like a flood coming. More 
 than that, the western sky was lighted up by 
 incessant lightning, and pretty soon the rumble 
 of distant thunder began to make itself heard. 
 We were in for it, and no mistake. 
 
 The sound of the approaching flood now grew 
 much louder, and presently, with a roar and a 
 crash of breaking trees, it burst out of the 
 caiion above. 
 
 " Sounds pretty big," said Stock. " I wonder 
 if it is coming down both channels." 
 
 I was about to reply when the flood afforded 
 a conclusive answer for itself. Of our four fires, 
 
A Lion in the Path 87 
 
 that one nearest the bluffs suddenly went out 
 with a sharp hiss, and one after the other in 
 quick succession the other three fires were ex- 
 tinguished. Not only was the water coming 
 down both channels, but it was within a hun- 
 dred yards of us already. 
 
 '' Senores," said the little Mexican, when the 
 last of our fires went out, " I think in my head 
 it is good if we go up a tree." 
 
 We thought the same in our heads, and up 
 we went. 
 
 By this time the sheep were aroused, and as 
 the thunder-storm drew nearer we could see 
 them by the light of the flashes all crowded 
 around our tree, which fortunately grew on the 
 highest part of the island. 
 
 Presently, with unexpected suddenness, the 
 storm burst over our heads with a deluge of ice- 
 cold rain, which drove right through our clothes 
 to our skins, and with flashes of lightning 
 whose glare showed up everything for an in- 
 stant and then left us in blacker darkness than 
 before. I did not at all like being perched in a 
 tree under such conditions, but still less did I 
 care to descend at the risk of being swept away 
 by the flood, and as my companions were of the 
 
88 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 same mind we stayed where we were. For 
 fifteen minutes perhaps we had sat shivering in 
 our tree, listening to the roaring of the flood 
 and the cracking and banging of the thunder, 
 when there came a terrific crash accompanied 
 by the sound of rending wood — a tree near by 
 had been split by the lightning. This was bad 
 enough, but it was not all, for another flash two 
 seconds later showed us about three hundred of 
 our sheep lying on their backs with their heels 
 in the air — killed or stunned ! Fortunately the 
 latter was the case, for a minute afterwards we 
 saw that they had all recovered their feet. 
 
 This was the worst of the storm for us. 
 Though it continued to be pretty severe for 
 some time, it presently passed on down-stream, 
 leaving us in perfect darkness and silence, save 
 for the continuous roar of the flood-water. 
 
 For three hours more we remained crouching 
 in our tree, not daring to descend and not 
 knowing whether we had any sheep left or not, 
 until at last the first streak of daylight greatly 
 relieved our minds in the latter respect by dis- 
 closing the whole flock gathered close about our 
 tree ; the water had not risen quite high enough 
 to touch them. 
 
A Lion in the Path 89 
 
 Down we scrambled, and while I lighted a 
 fire, Stock walked off to see how much water 
 was coming down the old channel. At the 
 same time Hidalgo went off in the opposite 
 direction to get a bucket of water. In half a 
 minute he came running back in great excite- 
 ment, crying : 
 
 "Come quick, seilores ! Come quick and 
 see ! " 
 
 We ran with him, and our astonishment was 
 only equaled by his own, our delight only 
 equaled by our astonishment, when we saw that 
 the north fork was dry ! The frolicsome San 
 Carlos had changed its course again during the 
 night and had gone back to its old bed under 
 the bluffs, where a muddy stream was now roar- 
 ing down between us and our late enemies, the 
 lions. 
 
 Without giving the sheep an opportunity to 
 form an opinion of their own, we rushed them 
 across the creek-bed and up the slope beyond. 
 In ten minutes we were safe I 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 A Tkip to the Foothills 
 
 'T^HE fall of the year is the sheepman's easy 
 -'- time ; but though he may then find oppor- 
 tunity to get about and see something of his 
 neighbors, his life at home is by no means ren- 
 dered monotonous for lack of occupation. 
 
 The two thousand " Mexicans " having been 
 sent off in charge of Juan Vigil, and Hidalgo 
 having been installed in his place. Stock and I 
 were sent over to the Badger Springs place to 
 see that the corrals were sound and the snow- 
 fences in good condition. This being accom- 
 plished, my father said to me next morning : 
 
 " Jamie, it is time to plow the fire-guards. 
 The grass is getting pretty dry now and a range- 
 fire is possible any day, so you may as well get 
 about it at once. You had better take the big 
 grays and let Stock have the mule team, and 
 begin this afternoon : the teams are soft from 
 want of exercise and half a day's work will be 
 enough to start with." 
 
 90 
 
A Trip to the Foothills 91 
 
 The first furrow to be plowed was naturally 
 that one immediately around the home place, 
 for, of course, the most valuable part of a ranch 
 is that containing the buildings, corrals and hay- 
 stacks ; and of these three things I am inclined 
 to think the haystacks are the most important. 
 The sheepman who enters upon the winter with- 
 out a good supply of hay runs the risk of seeing 
 his whole flock starve to death ; for though it 
 seldom does happen, there is always the possi- 
 bility that a great storm or succession of storms 
 may bury the country under a foot or two of 
 snow, keeping the sheep penned in the corrals 
 for a week or more at a time, when the sheep- 
 man who has not a good supply of hay to fall 
 back upon will find himself in bad case. 
 
 The home place, with its horse-pasture, buck- 
 pasture and hay-bottom, was enclosed by a fence 
 running about one mile east and west and half 
 a mile north and south. Beginning at the 
 northwest corner of the fence, I started a furrow 
 and ran it around the whole place, while Stock, 
 following twenty yards behind, ran a second 
 one. This being done, we started again and ran 
 four more furrows beside them, thus making a 
 good wide strip of bare earth which by itself 
 
92 Dale and Eraser, Sheepmen 
 
 would check any ordinary fire. Outside this 
 strip we plowed another furrow at a distance of 
 twenty feet, and beyond it yet another — the 
 total length of the eight furrows being over 
 twenty-four miles. 
 
 But this was far from contenting us, and hav- 
 ing plenty of time we determined to make a 
 thoroughly good job of it. 
 
 Going out a couple of miles from home, we 
 encircled the whole place with two furrows 
 twenty feet apart. These furrows were five 
 miles long on the north and south sides and four 
 miles long on the east and west, enclosing not 
 only the home place and twenty square miles 
 of grass-land, but also our second winter camp 
 which lay on the stream three miles to the east- 
 ward. This would be a serviceable guard in 
 helping to check a fire ; but even this did not 
 quite satisfy us. 
 
 The part of the range most needing protection 
 is that lying north of the creek, for it is to the 
 northward that the sheep are always sent in 
 doubtful weather. At the same time it is from 
 the north that most fires come — for two reasons : 
 the prevailing wind in winter blows from that 
 direction, and the most prolific source of range- 
 
A Trip to the Foothills 93 
 
 fires was the railroad, which also lay to the north 
 of us. 
 
 We therefore plowed two more furrows on that 
 side, carrying them down as far as the creek on 
 the east and west ends ; and this being accom- 
 plished we felt pretty well satisfied. All our 
 furrows, if strung out together in one line, would 
 have been nearly eighty miles in length. 
 
 This seems like a large amount of labor to 
 undertake just by way of precaution — though as 
 a matter of fact it looks larger than it is, for 
 with our big, strong teams it took us less than 
 two and a half days — but it pays. A bad fire 
 may sweep your whole range, and then what 
 are you going to do in the face of winter ? A 
 range-fire is, in fact, one of the dangers most 
 dreaded by the sheepman ; he is continuously 
 on the lookout for it in the fall, and the first 
 sniff of smoke will send all hands running to 
 beat it out. Frequently this may be accom- 
 plished, but now and then, in spite of all their 
 exertions, the fire will get past the beaters, and 
 then it is that the fire-guards come in ; then it 
 is that the provident sheepman thanks his stars 
 that he has plowed his guards in time. 
 
 We were very much pleased when my father, 
 
94 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 who had ridden out to inspect our work, said : 
 *' Well, boys, you have done a first-rate job ; it 
 is the best fire-guard we have ever had. Do you 
 find it hard work, Stock, following the plow ? " 
 
 " I did at first," Stock replied, " until Jamie 
 showed me how to handle the thing, and then 
 it was easy enough. At first I gripped the 
 handles as tightly as I could, and the conse- 
 quence was that the plow jolted and jerked me 
 about so that I was exhausted at the end of the 
 first half-mile. But as soon as Jamie showed 
 me how to steer it with hardly any grip at all, 
 I got along all right." 
 
 " Yes ; like a good many other things, ' it's 
 easy when once you know how.' Well, the next 
 job I have for you will be less monotonous at 
 any rate. You know, Jamie, we shall need 
 wood this winter, so you and Stock can take the 
 teams and go to the mountains for a couple of 
 loads ; and while you are about it you may take 
 your rifles if you like and spend a day or two 
 hunting." 
 
 " Why do you go to the mountains for 
 wood?" asked my companion. "Is there none 
 to be had any nearer? " 
 
 " No, there is nothing on the plains but a few 
 
A Trip to the Foothills 95 
 
 cottonwoods, and they, besides being scarce, are 
 poor stuff to burn, and so we always go up 
 among the foothills near the Obispo Pass. 
 Jamie knows the way." 
 
 " Is there good hunting there? " 
 
 " Yes, I believe so : for those who know how 
 to hunt ; which I suppose you don't." 
 
 " Not a bit ; I never fired a rifle in my life." 
 
 " Well, you might get a deer for all that ; but 
 as Jamie isn't much more expert than you are, 
 I advise you to let the bears alone, if you see 
 any." 
 
 " When should we start, father? " I asked. 
 
 " You may as well start to-morrow, I think. 
 You will have time to take off the wagon-beds 
 — for you'll only need the running-gear, of 
 course — and make your other preparations. 
 You can get ofP very well after breakfast to- 
 morrow." 
 
 Early next morning, therefore, we left the 
 ranch, Stock driving the mules and I the grays, 
 a roll of blankets tied fast to the running-gear 
 of one wagon and a well-filled " grub-box " to 
 the other. The pace was slow and the way 
 mostly up hill, and as the mule team could be 
 trusted to follow the grays, Stock for most of the 
 
g6 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 distance left them to do so, himself riding beside 
 me on my wagon, 
 
 "How far do we have to go, Jamie?" he 
 asked, as we plodded along. 
 
 " About thirty miles," I replied. ** It is fort}^ 
 miles to the top of the pass, but the foothills ex- 
 tend a good ten miles in this direction, and as 
 they are well covered with trees there is no need 
 for us to go farther." 
 
 " But why do we go to the foothills at all? 
 Wouldn't it be as near, or nearer, to go down to 
 the San Carlos and cut pinon wood on the mesa? 
 Isn't pinon good fire-wood ? " 
 
 " The best in the world," I replied, " espe- 
 cially for open fires, for it burns clear and 
 doesn't pop. But as you know, dwellers on the 
 plains can't afford to burn wood in open fires, it 
 is too expensive and hard to get ; and as to 
 getting pinon for general purposes, it pays better 
 for us to go a little farther and get pine wood 
 instead. For pinon is short stuff, whereas if 
 you load up with good long pine poles you can 
 bring home twice the amount of wood in one 
 trip." 
 
 *' I see. Yes. Do you expect to make the 
 distance to-day ? " 
 
A Trip to the Foothills 97 
 
 " Yes, we ought to do it easily enough, for 
 though we never trot these heavy work teams 
 if we can help it, they are good walkers and 
 should bring us to our destination in plenty of 
 time to allow us to make our camp before night. 
 I know a fine place for the purpose." 
 
 After an hour's rest at midday, we went on 
 again, until, about four in the afternoon, we 
 reached the place I had been making for. This 
 was an ideal camping-ground for our purpose : 
 a little box-caiion surrounded on all sides by 
 limestone cliffs about twenty feet high, and with 
 an entrance so narrow that it might easily be 
 barred with two or three stout pine poles. In- 
 side were enclosed about twenty acres of good 
 grass and a sprinkling of trees, while from the 
 ledge at the upper end there fell a tiny water- 
 fall. All the requisites for a perfect camping 
 place were here provided : wood, water, grass 
 and shelter ; and here with complete safety we 
 could leave our teams while we went off to cut 
 wood. 
 
 " Stock," said I, when the horses and mules 
 had been unharnessed and after a roll and a 
 shake had walked off to feed, " there is a little 
 stream just below here with lots of trout in it; 
 
98 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 if you like you can go and try for some while I 
 make camp. Here's a line and some flies ; I 
 brought them on purpose." 
 
 My partner was glad to go, and in an hour 
 and a half he was back again with a string of 
 twenty nice little mountain trout, which formed 
 a welcome addition to our supper of fried ham 
 and bread and butter. 
 
 The first thing to be done next day was to 
 find a good lot of dry timber and to cut sufiicient 
 of it to make two loads. Ax in hand therefore 
 we sallied forth, and having barred the entrance 
 of the canon, went clambering up the hill — 
 taking it leisurely, for Stock, who was not used 
 to it, soon found that scrambling up hill at an 
 elevation of eight thousand feet is rather hard 
 upon the lungs. 
 
 In a short time we came upon a patch of timber 
 which though dead was still perfectly sound, 
 and upon this we set to work. Stock chose a 
 forty-foot pole without a branch upon it, which, 
 growing upon the hill-slope, leaned over very 
 considerably on the down-hill side. Soon the 
 yellow chips were flying under his ax, while 1 
 on my part went to work upon a tree some thirty 
 yards away. 
 
A Trip to the Foothills 99 
 
 We had been at it but a few minutes when I 
 caught sight of some moving object out of the 
 tail of my eye, and looking up, 1 was astonished 
 and at the same time a good deal alarmed to see 
 a black bear coming up the hill towards us as 
 fast as she could run, evidently with hostile 
 intent. 
 
 " Look out. Stock ! " I shouted. " Look out ! 
 A bear ! " 
 
 With that I dropped my ax and in two 
 seconds was up among the topmost branches of 
 my tree. As for Stock, one glance was enough 
 for him. He, too, dropped his tool and hastily 
 swarmed up the bare, sloping trunk of the tree 
 he had been at work upon. 
 
 Running straight to the foot of this pole, the 
 bear rose upon her hind feet and placed her 
 paws upon it, when, with a sharp crack, the 
 already weakened tree broke off at the butt. It 
 did not fall far, however, for its upper end 
 caught in the branches of another tree just across 
 the creek, forming a bridge twenty feet above 
 the water. 
 
 This was most convenient for the bear, which 
 without hesitation ran briskly up the easy slope 
 of the tree-trunk — much to my surprise and 
 
loo Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 dismay, and still more so to Stock's. The latter 
 had almost reached the supporting tree, but see- 
 ing how quickly the bear was coming he knew 
 he could not escape in time. He therefore with 
 great agility changed his position so that he 
 faced the enemy, and reaching up into the 
 branches above his head he broke off' a big dead 
 limb with which, when the bear had come within 
 range, he saluted her with a sounding thwack 
 upon her jaw. 
 
 The bear did not like this, for she stopped, 
 growled and shook her head. She was not to be 
 daunted, though, for soon she advanced another 
 step, when Stock, holding the dead branch in both 
 hands, with all his strength jabbed her several 
 times in the face with its rough butt end. The 
 bear did not like this either ; she dodged her 
 head this way and that, until presently with a 
 quick snap, she seized the end of the branch with 
 her teeth. Thus for a moment the}^ struggled, 
 the bear trying to advance, and Stock using 
 every effort to make her lose her balance — but 
 only for a moment. 
 
 The pole upon which this struggle was taking 
 place w^as not quite straight : it bowed slightly 
 upwards. The violent scrimmage going on upon 
 
A Trip to the Foothills loi 
 
 its outer curve caused it to vibrate so that the 
 last fibres of wood which still held it in position 
 were broken, when without warning it instantly 
 turned over ! 
 
 Naturally, both boy and bear at once let go of 
 the branch, the one with hands and feet and the 
 other with all her claws, clinging desperately to 
 the inverted tree-trunk. Stock, when he felt 
 the pole going, had thrown himself forward 
 upon his face and clasped it with his arms — an 
 action which, when he found himself hanging 
 upside down, brought his head within three feet 
 of the bear's. Thus for a moment they both 
 hung, gazing at each other out of the tops of 
 their eyes, until, seeing that the bear was strug- 
 gling to regain her position. Stock let go with 
 his feet and quickly swinging himself round so 
 as to face his antagonist again, he launched at 
 her neck and chest several vigorous kicks — or, 
 rather, stamps — hoping to break her hold. 
 
 The bear, however, was very quick, and snap- 
 ping at her assailant's feet she presently caught 
 the heel of one of his boots between her teeth. 
 But the effort caused her claws to slip, and 
 presently, in spite of her frantic efforts to hold 
 on, down she went, taking the boot-heel with her. 
 
102 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 The sudden jerk of some three hundred 
 pounds' weight of bear upon Stock's foot was 
 too much for him, strong though he was ; his 
 hold, too, was broken, and down he went after 
 the bear. 
 
 Fortunately for both of them, the stream at 
 this point had scooped out a deep hole, and into 
 six feet of water the pair of them plunged with 
 a prodigious splash. 
 
 The next moment I saw them both. Stock on 
 one side and the bear on the other, scramble 
 out of the hole, when away they both went, as 
 hard as they could lay legs to the ground, in 
 opposite directions. 
 
 All this time I had been perched in my tree 
 in a state of stupefaction, too entranced to utter 
 a sound, until the sight of the late antagonists 
 running away from each other in opposite direc- 
 tions seemed to break the spell and I shouted a 
 joyous '' Whoop ! " which at once brought Stock 
 to a standstill. 
 
 Slipping quickly down the tree, I caught up 
 my ax and ran to my companion. 
 
 *' Hurt, Stock ? " I cried. 
 
 " Not a bit," he replied, as soon as he could get 
 his breath. '* The bear bit off the heel of my 
 
A Trip to the Foothills 103 
 
 boot " — turning it up for me to see — ** and that's 
 all. Where's she gone? " 
 
 " She ran into that little clump of bushes on 
 the hillside there, I'll tell you what it is, Stock. 
 I expect the bear's den is in among those bushes, 
 and she probably has some cubs in there. I 
 can't account otherwise for her attacking us 
 without provocation. I never heard of a black 
 bear doing such a thing before." 
 
 " I expect that's it," my companion assented ; 
 '' and she, not unnaturally, objects to our hang- 
 ing round the neighborhood of her residence." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " Well, then," rejoined Stock, who by this 
 time had quite recovered his breath and his 
 composure, " I think we may as well respect her 
 prejudices and go and chop wood somewhere 
 else." 
 
 This suggestion met with no opposition on 
 my part, and Stock having secured his ax we 
 departed forthwith, congratulating ourselves 
 that we had come out of our predicament so 
 easily. 
 
 We had no trouble in finding other places 
 where we could get a supply of wood, and all 
 that day and part of the next we worked with 
 
I04 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 our axes ; finally taking the mules up into the 
 hills and snaking the logs down to a place near 
 our camp convenient for loading them upon the 
 wagons. This done, we decided that we would 
 try our luck at hunting, and next morning we 
 set off, each carrying a rifle. 
 
 " Do you want to go and look up your friend, 
 the bear. Stock ? " said I, as we tramped along. 
 
 " Not to-day, thank you," he replied. " One 
 interview is enough for me. Odd, isn't it, that 
 your father should have warned us against 
 hunting bears, and the very first thing to hap- 
 pen should be that a bear should come hunting 
 us. For my part, I'm perfectly willing to leave 
 them alone if they'll do the same by me." 
 
 The morning air was cold, the wind, which 
 blew in our faces, coming straight from the 
 snow-covered peaks of the Trinity range, whose 
 glistening summits we could see ahead of us 
 through the trees. We had walked and climbed 
 about four miles, the country becoming steeper 
 all the time, when we came upon a deep, narrow 
 valley squeezed in between two high hills. At 
 my suggestion we here divided our forces, Stock 
 climbing the hill on the right of the stream 
 while I took the one on the left. 
 
A Trip to the Foothills 105 
 
 I had clambered up pretty high, when, looking 
 ahead, I saw in a clearing on Stock's side some 
 large animal feeding. It had a splendid pair of 
 antlers, and though I had never encountered 
 one before, I felt certain it was an elk, and a 
 big one at that. 
 
 From my position I could not go forward 
 without being detected, and how to warn Stock 
 of what was ahead of him without at the same 
 time alarming the game, puzzled me. Retreat- 
 ing a few paces out of sight of the elk, I stood 
 watching my partner, who was plainly visible to 
 me as he went clambering up the steep hill, 
 hoping all the time that he would turn to look 
 for me. For a long time he went straight on 
 and I was fearing every moment that he would 
 come upon the elk unawares, when at last he 
 stopped and looked back. I waved my arms, 
 and the moment he responded I dropped to the 
 ground ; seeing which Stock instantly did the 
 same. Thereupon I arose again and motioned 
 him to go forward ; when he, guessing at once 
 that there was something ahead which I could 
 see and he could not, moved cautiously on once 
 more. Every now and then he looked back to 
 me for instructions, and each time I waved him 
 
io6 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 forward, until at last I saw him drop suddenly 
 to the ground. I knew what that meant — he 
 had caught sight of the elk. 
 
 This was all I wanted, so, advancing again a 
 few steps, I took up a position in a safe place 
 whence I could watch the whole proceeding. 
 
 Slowly Stock crawled forward from tree to 
 tree until at length he stopped behind a bush 
 through the light foliage of which I saw him 
 cautiously push his rifle barrel. For a long time 
 he maintained this position, while I stood won- 
 dering why he did not shoot, when presently to 
 my astonishment he withdrew his rifle again 
 and then for another long time he lay there 
 merely watching the elk. My impatience may 
 be imagined ; but the climax came when Stock 
 calmly rose to his feet and stepped into the open. 
 The elk took one glance, and in a flash was gone ! 
 
 " What on earth did you do that for ? " I ex- 
 claimed, somewhat petulantly, I fear, as soon as 
 my partner had rejoined me. " Why didn't you 
 shoot?" 
 
 " I couldn't, Jamie, and that's the truth. I 
 feel as if I owed you an apology ; but I couldn't 
 help it. I hadn't the heart to shoot him. I 
 perfectly intended to do so when I pushed my 
 
A Trip to the Foothills 107 
 
 rifle through the bush, and he was an easy tar- 
 get, but I paused for a moment to watch him, 
 and he looked so handsome and proud and so 
 perfectly unconscious that a murdering human 
 lay within fifty yards of him that I couldn't 
 bring myself to do it. And then I began to 
 think to myself, ' What right have I, anyhow, to 
 kill this splendid fellow? By crooking my 
 finger I can stop his life and convert this beauti- 
 ful, harmless living creature into a heap of car- 
 rion — -just for my own amusement ; for I have 
 no other excuse. No,' thinks I, * I'll be shot if I 
 do.' And so I let him off, Jamie." 
 
 All my feeling of annoyance had vanished 
 when Stock spoke of owing me an apology ; I 
 felt that if any one owed an apology it was I 
 rather than he. Moreover, though it had never 
 occurred to me before, I began to see that his 
 view of the case had a good deal of reason in it. 
 What right had we to kill these innocent 
 creatures, which never had done, and never 
 would do, harm to us or any one else ? 
 
 " Stock," said I, holding out my hand to him, 
 " I'll own up that I did feel annoyed for a 
 moment ; but you were right. I'm glad you 
 didn't shoot." 
 
io8 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 " Well, I'm glad to hear you say so, old chap! " 
 exclaimed my companion, as he heartily shook 
 hands with me. " And I'll tell you what it is, 
 Jamie : I've made up my mind that, unless I'm 
 driven to it for food, I never will shoot any of 
 these wild animals — excepting, of course, harm- 
 ful ones, like wolves and coyotes. So, the next 
 time I go hunting I shall go with a camera." 
 
 " In that case," said I, laughing, " as we 
 haven't a camera, we may as well go back to 
 camp, load up our logs and dig out for home the 
 first thing in the morning." 
 
 " All right, Jamie, let's do it." 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 A RANGE-FIRE 
 
 OUR wood supply for the year having been 
 brought safely home, Stock and I for the 
 next few days busied ourselves about the place 
 getting things ready for winter — repairing the 
 corrals, sheds and fences, and doing a hundred 
 other odds and ends. We had about cleared up 
 everything when my father received notice that 
 a carload of coal he had ordered would be on the 
 siding in town on the following Tuesday and 
 must be unloaded at once, and he directed Stock 
 and me to get ready for hauling it home on the 
 day named — a tedious and dirty task, one of the 
 few tasks about a sheep ranch I would be willing 
 to shirk if I could. 
 
 Though the stars were still shining, there 
 were indications of sunrise in the eastern sky 
 when, on Tuesday morning, Stock and I got off 
 with our two big wagons, the grays as usual tak- 
 ing the lead, and away we drove, one behind 
 the other, with our shoulders humped and our 
 coat-collars turned up over our ears, both feel- 
 109 
 
1 1 o Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 ing very sleepy, rather chilly and much dis- 
 posed to growl at our hard lot. But by degrees 
 the sky lightened, and presently up bounced the 
 jolly sun, all clear and sparkling in the vapor- 
 less atmosphere. In an instant everything was 
 changed. 
 
 " Hurrah for the sun ! " shouted Stock ; and 
 jumping out of his own wagon he ran forward 
 and clambered into mine, where we rode along 
 together chatting cheerfully on every subject of 
 which we had any knowledge and on a good 
 many of which we had none. 
 
 " Great fellow, the sun ! " said my companion, 
 turning down his collar and unbuttoning his 
 overcoat. " I'll w^arrant him to stew the 
 megrims out of anybody in two minutes. I 
 often think how the dAvellers in the smoky 
 eastern cities miss it in never seeing the sun 
 rise as he was meant to rise. There he comes 
 crawling up, red-faced and dull, as though he 
 hated to get up — like ourselves a couple of 
 hours ago ; but here he springs above the 
 horizon, white-hot and glittering and full of 
 eagerness ; you can almost imagine him rubbing 
 his hands and calling out, ' Hallo, boys ! Here 
 we are again ! Now for a good day's work I ' 
 
A Range-Fire 1 1 1 
 
 There is as much difference as there is between 
 an electric light and a gas-jet." 
 
 " Yes," said I ; " and that leaves out of the 
 reckoning the number of mornings when he 
 doesn't appear at all to them ; whereas here he 
 comes up like this about three hundred and 
 fifty mornings in the year. It isn't surprising 
 that the Aztecs and those fellows used to wor- 
 ship the sun." 
 
 We had been going along for about two hours, 
 when on reaching the top of a long rise. Stock 
 suddenly laid one hand upon my arm and 
 pointing with the other, exclaimed : " Look 
 there, Jamie ! What's that? " 
 
 A long way oflP to our left, running straight 
 towards us, were a number of animals which at 
 first I supposed to be a little bunch of our 
 neighbor, Frank Draper's, sheep, chased by a 
 coyote. Fulling up the grays, we watched 
 them, and as they came nearer we discovered 
 that they were not sheep at all, but a band of 
 antelope, among which were several young ones, 
 while behind and just above them flew a big 
 brown eagle, sailing softly along, an occasional 
 flap of his great wings enabling him easily to 
 keep pace with the frightened animals. His 
 
1 1 2 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 intention was obvious : he would keep them 
 running until one of the young ones dropped 
 from exhaustion. 
 
 This time, however, he was doomed to disap- 
 pointment. The antelopes, which had doubtless 
 seen us long before we saw them, ran straight to 
 our wagons and to our surprise crowded close 
 around them. The poor creatures had evidently 
 had a long and desperate run, for their heaving 
 flanks were sunk in great hollows and their 
 beautiful eyes were staring with fear. Two of 
 the young ones even were so dead-beat that 
 when the rest stopped they just fell down in the 
 road and lay panting. Poor things ! They 
 must have been hard pressed indeed thus to run 
 for protection to their enemy, man. 
 
 As to the eagle, he perched on a little hillock 
 thirty yards away and there for five minutes he 
 sat calmly watching us out of his round yellow 
 eye. At the end of that time Stock slipped 
 down from the wagon, picked up a stone, and 
 pushed his way through the antelopes, which 
 merely stepped aside to let him pass. As soon 
 as he saw Stock coming, the eagle tilted himself 
 forward, opened his wings and rose from the 
 ground. At this moment my partner with all 
 
A Range-Fire 1 1 3 
 
 his force hurled the stone at him, striking with 
 a sounding thump the under side of one of his 
 wings. One would think it ought to have 
 broken the bone; but the big bird took no 
 notice whatever ; he sailed majestically away, 
 and for several minutes we all — boys and 
 antelopes — watched him until he disappeared 
 from sight over a distant hill. 
 
 Then our visitors gathered up the young ones 
 and trotted off in the direction from which they 
 had come, while we, very heartily wishing them 
 good luck, resumed our journey. 
 
 " Well, that was a curious incident," said 
 Stock. " The antelopes couldn't have gone 
 much farther ; but they must have been pretty 
 desperate to come and ask protection from 
 us. I wonder if many of them are killed by 
 eagles." 
 
 " I don't know," I replied. " I never saw an 
 eagle chase an antelope before. I saw one once 
 chase three coyotes, two old ones with a young 
 one running between them ; though what the 
 result was I could not see. A coyote, though, 
 has a better chance of escape than an antelope, 
 for he can run into a hole in the ground, 
 whereas the antelope has nowhere to go, and I 
 
1 1 4 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 don't see how he is to escape if an eagle makes 
 up his mind to run him down." 
 
 ** No ; and the poor things can't make much of 
 a fight with their curved horns. All they can 
 do is to run away." 
 
 " Yes," I replied. *' Though for all that I saw 
 one fight a dog once ; and a very funny thing it 
 was. We had a terrier named Smiler — he was a 
 most cheerful little chap — and Smiler's great de- 
 light was to chase antelopes. Of course he never 
 came within a mile of catching one, but it 
 gratified him to see a dozen or more animals 
 eight or ten times as big as himself fly in terror 
 before him. 
 
 " One day I rode down to one of the camps, 
 Smiler coming too, and as we went we espied an 
 antelope not a quarter of a mile away. Off" went 
 Smiler as usual — but he precious soon came 
 back again. For the antelope, instead of mak- 
 ing off*, sprang forward, and with one jab of her 
 sharp front hoofs sent the dog rolling over and 
 over. This happened two or three times, 
 when the disconcerted Smiler, as soon as 
 he could get the chance, ran back to me a 
 good deal faster than he had run the other 
 way. I knew what was the matter : there 
 
A Range-Fire 115 
 
 was a fawn lying hidden in the grass some- 
 where close by." 
 
 " It's wonderful," said Stock, " how bold even 
 a timid creature like an antelope will be when 
 there's a young one to be protected." 
 
 " Yes," I assented. " But it's still more re- 
 markable, I think, how bold an antelope will 
 sometimes be when there isn't any young one to 
 be protected. The queerest thing of the sort I 
 ever did see was down at Meadows' one time. 
 Before he got those wolf-hounds Mr. Meadows 
 used to keep three fox-hounds with which he 
 used to hunt coyotes. I was down there on oi^e 
 of the hunts one time ; the hounds were on a 
 strong scent, running close together and giving 
 tongue freely, when a band of five antelope came 
 running up. One after the other, each of those 
 five antelope jumped over the hounds' backs, 
 made a circuit, came back and jumped over 
 them again. They did this five or six times, 
 and then ran off and disappeared. The hounds 
 took no notice whatever. Now, how do you ac- 
 count for that?" 
 
 " I can't ; unless it is on the same principle 
 that a flock of small birds will chase an owl when 
 he flies abroad in the daylight." 
 
Ii6 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 " That's the only explanation I can think of." 
 
 " It's a wonder to me," continued Stock, after 
 a pause, " that there are any antelope left, con- 
 sidering how many enemies they have : eagles, 
 wolves, coyotes and men." 
 
 " Yes ; and of all their enemies, man is the 
 worst; worse than all the rest put together. 
 Twenty years ago, I've been told, the antelope 
 were about as plentiful as prairie-dogs ; one 
 might see bunches of them in every direction, 
 sometimes as many as a hundred in a bunch. 
 But since men took to hunting them for the 
 market they have been thinned out so that now 
 you may ride all day and not see more than two 
 or three bands — generally from two to ten in a 
 band." 
 
 ** I heard your father say the other day," said 
 Stock, " that even the pot-hunters were less de- 
 structive than the ' sportsmen ' from town with 
 their magazine rifles." 
 
 " Well, I believe that's true," I replied. 
 " Those fellows' idea of sport is to crawl up on a 
 bunch of antelope and empty their rifles into 
 the thick of them. I heard such a fusilade once 
 and soon afterwards a band ran past me, three 
 of them with broken legs. It's a wicked shame ! " 
 
A Range-Fire 1 1 7 
 
 " That's what it is. Sportsmen, forsooth ! 
 Pah I " 
 
 In due time we reached town, filled our 
 wagons with coal, fed the teams, and after an 
 hour's rest started back again, arriving after sun- 
 set. Then, the teams having been turned over 
 to Hidalgo, the wagons were emptied into the 
 coal-bin, their wheels all greased anew for the 
 next day, and after that we were at liberty to 
 take the thorough wash and the ample supper 
 with which our long day came to an end. 
 
 Four more days of this kind finished the job ; 
 but it was no sooner over than we had to begin 
 again hauling a car-load of corn — a cleaner 
 but equally tedious task. Our hauling for the 
 season was concluded by one final trip when we 
 went to town to bring home a great stock of 
 groceries of which the largest single item was a 
 ton of flour. This may seem like a good deal 
 of flour to purchase at one time, but with four 
 healthy people in our household, in addition to 
 half a dozen hungry Mexicans, even a ton of 
 flour will disappear with marvelous rapidity. 
 
 It was a few days after this that we were 
 seated at dinner when we heard hurried foot- 
 steps on the porch outside, there came a single 
 
1 1 8 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 sharp tap at the door and Hidalgo popped in his 
 head. 
 
 " Seiiores ! " he exclaimed. " I smell smoke ! " 
 Out we all bundled in an instant, and turn- 
 ing our faces to windward, sniffed the breeze. 
 Yes, there was a smell of smoke, the well-known 
 scent of burning grass, but it was very faint ; 
 the fire must be a long way off. Far or near, 
 though, it must be attended to at once, so down 
 we ran to the horse-corral where old Bony was 
 quickly harnessed up to the two-wheeled cart, a 
 number of sacks thrown into it, and my father 
 and Hidalgo climbing in, away they drove. 
 Before they had started, though. Stock and I, 
 carrying two sacks apiece, had jumped upon a 
 couple of ponies, bareback, and had galloped off. 
 The wind came from the northwest, so north- 
 westward we rode. From the top of the high 
 ground at the back of the house we caught the 
 first glimpse of the smoke ; it appeared to be 
 five or six miles away, so, setting the ponies 
 into an easy lope we rode towards it. As we 
 advanced the scent of the smoke became 
 stronger, and every moment we expected to 
 come within sight of the fire. But it is not 
 easy to judge the distance of a fire on the plains 
 
A Range-Fire 119 
 
 by the smell or even by the sight of the smoke, 
 and on we went until presently, " There's the 
 fire ! " exclaimed Stock, as a long bright line, 
 with a cloud of light-yellow smoke driving 
 ahead of it, suddenly appeared over the brow of 
 a hill and came running smartly down to 
 meet us. 
 
 The fire had a front of four or five hundred 
 yards, and though the breeze was not violent it 
 was brisk, and we guessed that we had a good- 
 sized job on our hands. Galloping forward to 
 within a hundred yards, we jumped from our 
 ponies, and leaving them to take care of them- 
 selves, we set to work with a sack in each hand 
 to beat out the fire. In a few minutes my 
 father and Hidalgo joined us, when the former, 
 of course, took command of the beaters. As he 
 jumped out of the cart he called out : 
 
 " Jamie, run to the right-hand corner and 
 beat towards the middle ; Stock, you start 
 at the left-hand corner ; Hidalgo and I will be- 
 gin in the middle and work towards you ! " 
 
 In this order we went to work, my father and 
 I facing each other and coming gradually to- 
 gether, and Stock and Hidalgo doing the same. 
 
 Of all hard work, there is none so hard, I 
 
I20 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 think, as that of beating out a range-fire when 
 a brisk breeze is blowing. The exertion of 
 bending over and swinging the sacks with either 
 hand alternately is heartbreaking — for you can- 
 not stop ! An instant's pause, and away goes 
 the fire through the feathery grama grass like 
 the shadow of a cloud over the landscape. Nor 
 can you afford to leave a speck of fire behind 
 you, which it is easy to do. Every one knows 
 how difficult it is to see the flame of a candle in 
 the glaring sunlight ; but if you do miss a scrap 
 of fire, Piff*! — in ten seconds the "candle flame" 
 has spread over as many acres of ground and 
 your work has to be done all over again. 
 
 For two hours there was no sound but the 
 rapid and continuous whack, whack, whack of the 
 sacks upon the ground, and though by that time 
 the fire had advanced perhaps a couple of miles 
 nearer the ranch, we had made such good progress 
 that Stock and Hidalgo had beaten out their part 
 of it and were coming, running, to help my father 
 and me, who were hardly ten yards apart, when 
 there happened the very thing we had all along 
 been dreading. With that impetuosity with 
 which Nature does everything in Colorado, the 
 wind from a moderate breeze suddenly increased 
 
A Range-Fire 121 
 
 to half a gale. Like a lashed horse the fire 
 sprang forward, and in an instant had left us 
 far behind. 
 
 " Catch your ponies, boys ! " shouted my 
 father. '' We must race for the fire-guard ! " 
 
 Though the fire had run past them, singeing 
 the hair from their legs, the ponies had not 
 bolted, and soon we Avere all galloping south- 
 ward, the cart bouncing and rattling, and old 
 Bony, as though he appreciated the emergency, 
 doing his best to keep up with his younger 
 brethren. 
 
 The first gust had been the most violent, and 
 now the wind had settled down to a steady 
 blow. Consequently we soon caught up with 
 the line of fire, and rushing the ponies through 
 the flames we presently reached the fire-guard, 
 which, it will be remembered, here consisted of 
 four furrows each twenty feet apart, and there 
 behind our first line of defense we took our 
 stand to await the impending assault of the 
 enemy. 
 
 We had not long to wait. Down upon us 
 came the fire with such speed that it looked as 
 though it knew the guards were there and had 
 made up its mind to jump them if possible. If 
 
122 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 it should succeed, why, then we should have to 
 turn and run for the main guard around the 
 home place. 
 
 Fortunately for us, the fire had come so fast 
 that it had not had time to spread out very far 
 laterally; its front was hardly more than a 
 hundred yards wide. Fortunately also, coming 
 as it did from the northwest, it struck the guard 
 at the corner and thus took it slantwise instead 
 of square. Had it come straight from the north, 
 thus striking the furrows at right angles, I think 
 it would surely have jumped each one in turn. 
 
 As it came down upon us with a faint crackle 
 — for a fire on the plains does not roar ; the grass 
 is too short — my father, marshaling his forces, 
 called out : " Jamie and Stock, take the right 
 from the corner ; Hidalgo and I will take the 
 left. If it jumps the first furrow in many places 
 let it go and get behind the second." 
 
 Hardly had he spoken when the fire struck 
 the angle of the guard and split in two, part 
 going to the right and part to the left ; though 
 thanks to the fact that it hit the furrow slanting 
 it only jumped the first guard in six or seven 
 places. Down upon these we came with our 
 sacks, and in a moment they were all out ; all 
 
A Range-Fire 123 
 
 but one which ran across and jumped the second 
 furrow also. I heard my father call, " Behind 
 you, Jamie, behind you ! " and running back, 
 with two blows from my sacks I put it out. The 
 whole front of the fire had been obliterated in 
 ten seconds. 
 
 Now we could straighten our backs once 
 more and stretch ourselves for a minute or two, 
 for the main danger was over — thanks to our 
 good fire-guards. But the work was not over 
 by any means. Though the front of the fire 
 was out, there was still a thin line of flame of 
 unknown length on either side of the blackened 
 stretch of prairie, which, not being driven by the 
 wind, was slowly eating up the grass. These 
 could not be left to burn, for a change of wind 
 would make another fire worse than the first. 
 
 At it we went, therefore, my father and the 
 little Mexican on one line and Stock and I on 
 the other. It was a long, long task. The sun 
 went down while we were still beating the earth, 
 and not till two hours after dark did we at 
 length knock out the last remaining spark. 
 
 We did not know where our companions were, 
 having long before lost sight of them, or the 
 ponies either, and knowing that it would be 
 
124 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 useless to look for them in the dark in that great 
 open space, we took a line by a star and set off 
 home, feeling sure that they would do the same. 
 
 It was not till half past nine that we reached 
 the ranch, where we found that the others and 
 the ponies had just come in, and after drinking 
 about a gallon of water apiece and taking a 
 good cold bath we sat down to supper. 
 
 " Well, Stock," said my mother, " what do 
 you think of the work of beating out a range- 
 fire?" 
 
 " I think it is the hardest work I ever under- 
 took, and the thirstiest," replied my companion, 
 whose hair had been singed by the flames, and 
 whose eyes were red from the effects of the smoke 
 blowing into them. " I had no idea before how 
 fast the flames will travel. Why, when the 
 wind sprang up, I believe they covered a hun- 
 dred yards at the first jump." 
 
 " Yes," said my father, " it looked pretty seri- 
 ous at that moment ; and it would have been 
 pretty serious but for your fire-guard. It was 
 that which saved us. Without it the fire would 
 have run right through the hay-bottom and 
 would have been down at Meadows' by this 
 time. As it is, it has done us small harm ; and 
 
A Range-Fire i 25 
 
 on the other hand, it has furnished us a useful 
 lesson on the advantage of getting your guards 
 plowed in good season. You boys may con- 
 gratulate yourselves on having done such a 
 thorough piece of work." 
 
 '* Yes," added my mother. " It is one more 
 example of the truth of the old saying, that 
 what is worth doing at all is worth doing well." 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 The Copper Pot 
 
 A S the cold weather approached we made 
 -^^- ready to bring up the flocks from the sum- 
 mer camps. Besides the Spring Creek ranch 
 and the new place at Badger Springs, we had 
 three other camps, one of which, an excellent 
 winter camp, lay on the stream three miles east 
 of the home place. Its buildings consisted of 
 a cabin for the herders and a corral, divided 
 across the middle to accommodate two flocks. 
 The corral was protected on the north by a 
 double row of snow-fence, but there being plenty 
 of water available for irrigation my father had 
 long ago set out three rows of Lombardy poplars 
 on the north and west sides, which being now 
 forty feet high afforded a valuable additional 
 protection from the storms of winter. The other 
 two camps, which lay five miles to the south- 
 ward, were set out in hollows of the open plain, 
 their water-supply being in each case a small 
 spring, which, while it aflbrded water enough 
 126 
 
The Copper Pot 127 
 
 for the sheep, was yet not sufficiently abundant 
 to keep alive any number of trees. The only 
 protection from the weather therefore was af- 
 forded by a double row of snow-fence. 
 
 At these two unsheltered southern camps the 
 flocks stayed until the approach of winter, when 
 the sheep from one of them were driven up to 
 the home place while the other two flocks were 
 sent to the camp down stream. 
 
 During the summer we did not see a great 
 deal of the sheep, for, thanks to the good padre 
 of Obispo, we had trustworthy herders who did 
 not require to be continuously looked after. In 
 fact, all that was really necessary was to make a 
 weekly trip to each camp for the purpose of 
 replenishing the food and coal supply, and oc- 
 casionally to bring away a sheep that had been 
 hurt in some way, or a lamb, born out of season, 
 with its mother. It was of such that Hidalgo's 
 invalid flock was made up. 
 
 The fall weather that year was very fine, as 
 it nearly always is, but towards the end of 
 October my father, having noted a downward 
 tendency in the barometer, and fearing that the 
 fine weather was about to break, gave the order 
 to bring up the sheep ; Stock and I driving off 
 
I 28 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 in the buckboard early one morning to deliver 
 the order. 
 
 " I suppose," said my companion as we drove 
 along, " I suppose you watch the barometer 
 pretty closely during the winter." 
 
 '' I should think we did," I replied. " No 
 ship's captain in tropical seas watches it more 
 closely than the sheepman does. Every move 
 it makes is noted. A sudden drop does not 
 worry him — that only means a blow, big or 
 little. But it is when the barometer begins to 
 go down slowly and steadily and keeps on going 
 down that the sheepman begins to fidget ; for 
 that means snow. It is then that the sheep are 
 sent northward to feed, so that if a storm does 
 come it shall blow them home again, or, if it 
 looks very threatening, they are not sent out 
 at all." 
 
 " Is the barometer always to be trusted ? " 
 
 " Not quite. The very worst storm we ever 
 had struck us without any warning, though why 
 the instrument failed to notify us we never 
 could understand. On the other hand, the ba- 
 rometer once dropped an inch and a quarter in 
 twelve hours — we thought we were going to be 
 blown off the face of the earth — yet nothing 
 
The Copper Pot 129 
 
 happened. In that instance, though, we heard 
 afterwards of a severe cyclone in Nebraska that 
 day, and we suppose our barometer felt the in- 
 fluence even at that distance. There's Jose 
 Quintano. So it is going to snow." 
 
 " What makes you say that? " 
 
 '' Because Jose has brought his flock north- 
 ward from camp. He's evidently suspicious, 
 for he has a wonderful nose for snow, and being 
 a careful herder he wants the sheep to have the 
 storm at their backs going home if it does come ; 
 otherwise they won't go home at all, for a sheep 
 will let himself be buried fifty feet deep rather 
 than face a blizzard. We'll turn off the road 
 here." 
 
 As we went joggling towards him over the 
 lumpy surface of the plain, the herder, who had 
 been standing like a statue on top of a hill, 
 watching his flock in the hollow below, walked 
 down to meet us. He was a short, stoutly built 
 fellow, and carried a heavy staff" in his hand. 
 
 " Good-morning, Jose," said I. " Sheep all 
 right?" 
 
 '' All right, senor." 
 
 " Good ! What's the weather going to do? " 
 
 " Snow pretty soon, senor." 
 
130 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 "How soon? To-day?" 
 
 " Perhaps yes, perhaps no. But I think per- 
 haps to-night." 
 
 " So ? Well, Jose, my father thinks the same, 
 and I've come to tell you to move the flock 
 northward at once and corral at the home place 
 to-night. I am going to the cabin and will bring 
 away your things." 
 
 " It is good, seilor ; " and with that this man 
 of few words turned at once and headed his 
 sheep northward. 
 
 " Where shall I find Albino Lopez ? " I 
 shouted after him as he walked off. 
 
 " Two mile west from here," he called in 
 reply ; so away we went, due west. 
 
 We soon found Albino and his flock, and hav- 
 ing notified him of the intended move, we next 
 drove to the cabin, where we gathered up the 
 herders' blankets and such provisions as re- 
 mained, and having packed them into the buck- 
 board, started for the other camp, which lay 
 another five miles to the westward. 
 
 In due time we found Jose Valdez and Jose 
 Mendoza, the other two herders, and having 
 given them the same instructions, we drove to 
 their cabin to collect their belongings. 
 
The Copper Pot 131 
 
 " Phew ! This cabin is hot ! " said Stock, as 
 we entered. ''What must it be in July? I 
 don't see how they stand it." 
 
 '' You must remember," I explained, " that 
 they don't have to stand it: they get out 
 before sunrise and don't come back till 
 sunset, so that they miss all the heat of 
 the day." 
 
 '* That's so ; I had forgotten that. This box 
 of a place, though, must be like an oven some- 
 times, with the sun at a hundred and fifty de- 
 grees beating down on its inch-thick roof and 
 walls. Shall we take the ax, Jamie ? Nobody 
 would steal it, I should think ; it's as blunt as 
 the edge of my hand." 
 
 " I know it is," said I, laughing. " We always 
 give the Mexicans a blunt ax." 
 
 "What? On purpose? Why?" 
 
 " To save wood, which is too precious to waste, 
 you know. If they had a sharp ax they'd be 
 doing their cooking with wood ; but with an ax 
 like this it gives them all the chopping they 
 want to knock off a few chips. It's a very eco- 
 nomical expedient." 
 
 " I should think it was ; though it seems a 
 little tough on the Mexicans. Well, we seem to 
 
132 Dale and Eraser, Sheepmen 
 
 have collected everything, so we may as well dig 
 out, I suppose." 
 
 We were very pleased to see the four flocks 
 comfortably corralled that night at the home 
 place, for the barometer had been going 
 down all day, and if it were going to 
 snow we liked to have the sheep close by 
 under our eyes. The day had been bril- 
 liantly fine, however, not a cloud visible, 
 even at sunset, but at nine o'clock, as I rose 
 to go to bed, taking a last look at the 
 barometer according to custom, I noticed that 
 since our last observation it had turned and 
 started upward again. 
 
 " Snow to-night, father," said I. " The ba- 
 rometer has turned." 
 
 *' Well, that's good," replied my father. " It 
 won't be much of a storm after all. Go out and 
 take a look at the sky, Jamie." 
 
 I went out accordingly. Stock accompanying 
 me, when one glance aloft settled the matter in 
 our minds : the snow Avas coming. The north- 
 ern half of the sky was dark with clouds, and 
 even as we looked two or three specks of snow 
 fell upon our faces. 
 
 " It's coming all right," said Stock. " But 
 
The Copper Pot 133 
 
 why did your father say it would not be much 
 of a storm ? What did he go by ? " 
 
 " By the fact that the barometer had only been 
 going downward for one day and had only made 
 a moderate drop — that means probably no more 
 than a brief flurry of snow. If it had fallen 
 three-quarters of an inch and had taken three 
 days in doing it we should have expected a real 
 big snowfall. I'll just go in and report to father, 
 and then we'll walk down and take a last look 
 at the sheep." 
 
 We found everything snug and comfortable, 
 the four flocks, each in its own corral, all lying 
 down fast asleep. The same could not be said 
 of their herders, though, for there was a light in 
 the cabin, and as we passed we could hear them 
 talking together. 
 
 ''Aren't they keeping it up rather late?" 
 asked Stock. 
 
 " Yes," I replied ; " but it is only for to-night. 
 They are great fellows to gossip, usually, — it is 
 about the only amusement they have — and you 
 see two of the herders have not seen the other 
 two to speak to for months, so they have lots to 
 talk about. Besides which Hidalgo is a late 
 arrival from Obispo and two of them at least 
 
134 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 have not seen him since he came — they must 
 have a thousand questions to ask him." 
 
 By this time the snow was falling pretty 
 thickly, so we walked back to the house, and 
 having reported " all well " to my father, went 
 to bed. About one o'clock in the morning I 
 heard the front door open and shut and I guessed 
 that my father had risen to look at the weather, 
 so when I heard him come in again I popped 
 out my head and asked : 
 
 " How is it, father ? " 
 
 " All right. Just what I expected. Only an 
 inch of snow, and the stars all shining again." 
 
 " Good ! " I exclaimed ; and hopped into bed 
 again. 
 
 Next morning, the weather being perfect again, 
 though colder, two of the flocks went off' to the 
 lower camp, leaving Jose Quintano with a flock 
 of wethers and Albino Lopez with a large flock 
 of ewes and yearling lambs at the home place. 
 Our arrangements for the winter were now com- 
 pleted. 
 
 It happened one day not long after this that I 
 looked into the cabin to give Hidalgo some di- 
 rections from my father, when I noticed hang- 
 ing on a nail in the wall a copper cup or pot 
 
The Copper Pot 135 
 
 about the size of an ordinary quart measure. It 
 was a rough piece of workmanship, its intrinsic 
 value being measurable perhaps by a double 
 handful of pennies, but it was interesting from 
 the fact that it had been hammered out by hand 
 from a lump of native copper ; its heavy, curved 
 copper handle being secured by rivets of the 
 same metal. 
 
 " That's a queer old thing, Hidalgo," said I, 
 taking it down from its nail. " Does it belong 
 to you ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Where did you get it ? " 
 
 " My grandfather give it to me." 
 
 " Did he make it himself? " 
 
 " Oh, no, seiior. He find it one day 
 long time ago — twenty-thirty year ago. He 
 find it fast on a dead man with a leather 
 strap." 
 
 " Is that so ? That's interesting. Did your 
 grandfather know who the dead man was ? " 
 
 " I think yes, senor ; but my grandfather he 
 will not tell. The good padre he tell him not to 
 tell." 
 
 "Why?" I asked. 
 
 Hidalgo shrugged his shoulders. " Quicn 
 
136 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 f " he replied ; '' but," he added, *' I think 
 in my head two-three things. Look, seiior." 
 
 So saying, the boy called my attention to 
 some scratches on the front of the pot, which 
 on examination appeared to be several words 
 written seemingly with the point of a knife. I 
 attempted to read them, but on further scrutiny 
 I found to my surprise that the writing was in 
 Latin. This floored me, for though I had 
 studied it at school I am obliged to confess that 
 my knowledge of the language was quite un- 
 equal to the task of deciphering the inscription. 
 
 " What is the writing about, Hidalgo ? " I 
 asked. 
 
 The boy shook his head. " I do not know," 
 said he ; adding, as he turned the pot bottom 
 upward, " Look-see again, senor." 
 
 " Hallo ! " I exclaimed. " More writing. 
 Some of this is in Spanish anyhow : ' To Don 
 Blanco at Obispo,' but the rest is Latin again. 
 Who was Don Blanco, Hidalgo ? " 
 
 " Again I do not know, seiior." 
 
 "Well, it's a queer old relic, anyhow, this 
 pot. Do you mind if I take it up to the 
 house and show it to my father and mother, 
 Hidalgo?" 
 
The Copper Pot 137 
 
 The boy was quite willing, so I carried it off 
 with me. I was a little late for dinner, so, 
 setting down the pot, I said nothing about it 
 till the meal was over, when, handing it to my 
 father, I told him its history as related to me by 
 the little Mexican. 
 
 " That is interesting," said he. " Let me see 
 if I can make out the writing." 
 
 After a short examination of the scratches 
 on the front of the pot, he turned to me 
 and said, " This is simple enough ; you 
 ought to have been able to make out this, 
 Jamie. I expect the poor fellow upon whom 
 this copper pot was found was either badly 
 wounded or perhaps was perishing in a 
 snow-storm ; at any rate he was convinced 
 he was going to die and being a Catholic 
 he wrote here, * Pray for the soul of Antonio 
 Peral.' " 
 
 ** Peral ! " exclaimed my mother, quickly. 
 " Peral ! Pve heard that name before." 
 
 " Well, it seemed to me that I had, too," said 
 my father, " but I can't think where. No," 
 shaking his head and frowning thoughtfully, 
 " no, I can't think where." 
 
 " Nor can I," repeated my mother ; " but I 
 
138 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 feel sure I've heard the name somewhere at 
 some time. What is the other writing? " 
 
 " Hm ! " said my father, rubbing his chin. 
 " This is not quite so simple. The Spanish is 
 plain enough, but the Latin — wait a moment." 
 
 With that he took from the book-shelf my 
 old Latin dictionary and after turning over the 
 leaves for a moment he raised the pot in his 
 hands again and said : 
 
 ** This is an odd thing. Unless I am mis- 
 taken the writing says : ' To Don Blanco at 
 Obispo : The gold remains behind the Harp- 
 strings.' " 
 
 " That certainly is a queer message for a dead 
 man to send to his friend — for I suppose Peral 
 was the writer. I wonder what the ' Harp- 
 strings ' means. The message sounds as though 
 it might refer to some buried treasure or some- 
 thing of the sort, doesn't it? " 
 
 " I should think it very likely," replied my 
 father, " especially as the man, Peral, took the 
 precaution to write the principal part of it in a 
 language which the Mexicans in general would 
 not understand. The good padre, however, 
 would understand, and that, I expect, is why 
 he directed Hidalgo's grandfather to say noth- 
 
The Copper Pot 139 
 
 ing about it. Probably he feared that if the 
 dead man's message became known, the vil- 
 lagers of Obispo might abandon the peaceful 
 pursuit of agriculture and waste their time and 
 unsettle their minds hunting for the supposed 
 treasure." 
 
 " Very likely. Ah ! There's Hidalgo down 
 in the garden. Call him in, Jamie, and let us 
 see if he knows any more about it." 
 
 As soon as the boy entered my mother said to 
 him, " Well, Hidalgo, so you don't know what 
 the writing on the copper pot is about, eh ? " 
 
 " No, senora," replied the little Mexican. 
 
 " And I suppose you don't know what the 
 * Harpstrings ' means." 
 
 " No, seilora, I never heered of it." 
 
 " Does anybody know what the writing 
 says? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; the good padre he know, and my 
 grandfather he know one time ; but he very old 
 man and I think he forget. I 'member one 
 time, long time ago when I am little, the good 
 padre he come in my grandfather's house, and 
 he take down the copper pot and he look at it, 
 and he say to my grandfather : ' Sandoval, the 
 people of Obispo they cannot read this writing 
 
140 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 what is wrote here and it is all safe if you hold 
 still your tongue ; so mind you, Sandoval, you 
 shall keep tight shut your mouth.' And my 
 grandfather he nod his head three-four times 
 and he say, ' It is good, my padre ; I shall not 
 say nothing.' " 
 
 " And they are the only two who know, are 
 they? And one of them has forgotten." 
 
 "Si, senora." 
 
 *' And do you think the good padre knows 
 who Don Blanco was, and the man, Peral, who 
 wrote the message? " 
 
 " I think yes, senora." 
 
 " And now he is the only man who does 
 know, eh ? " 
 
 Instead of answering up promptly as hereto- 
 fore, the boy assumed a semi-mysterious air ; he 
 advanced a step, and leaning forward he said in 
 a lowered voice : 
 
 " I think no, senora. I think there is one 
 man more who have heered of Don Blanco and 
 Peral and the copper pot. I tell you. There 
 have live in the valley long time now, ten-eleven 
 year, one man, an Americano. He live in a big 
 house near Casa Grande, just over the pass. He 
 have much cows and sheep. One day I go to 
 
The Copper Pot 141 
 
 the padre's house, and when I am come to the 
 gate the padre and the senor Americano come 
 out. They talk together, and I hear the senor 
 say the name, ' Don Blanco.' Then the good 
 padre he shake his head many times, and the 
 senor he jump on his horse and ride away very 
 quick." 
 
 "You think he was trying to pump the padre, 
 then." 
 
 " How ? ' Pomp? ' I think he ask the good 
 padre to tell him the secret of the copper pot." 
 " Yes, that's what I mean. Well ? " 
 " Two-three day after, I go to our house and I 
 find there the senor Americano. He give my 
 grandfather one cigarro, and he sit and he talk 
 and he talk and he ask one thousand questions ; 
 and my grandfather — he very old man — he for- 
 get that the good padre tell him to hold still his 
 tongue, and he tell all he can 'member about 
 Don Blanco and Peral and the writing." 
 " And did he show him the writing? " 
 " No, senora, he cannot, for the good padre 
 have come two day before and took away the pot. 
 I think he is afeared that my grandfather, be- 
 cause he is so old, shall one day let out of the 
 bag the cat." 
 
142 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 '' When did this happen, Hidalgo ? " 
 
 " Two day before I come away. Then, on the 
 morning I leave, the good padre come to the 
 house and he bring the pot with him, and he say : 
 * Sandoval, this is your prop'ty but it is good 
 if you give it to Jose to take away with him ; 
 and for me, I am not sorry if it come no more 
 back to Obispo.' So my grandfather give it to 
 me and I bring it away." 
 
 '' Well, that is a very interesting story," said 
 my father. " But I think, Hidalgo, the good 
 padre would prefer that you did not leave the 
 pot about where every one can see it. Put it 
 away somewhere in a safe place." 
 
 At this we all rose, and Stock, taking the pot 
 from the table, handed it to its owner, little 
 suspecting that the battered old relic contained 
 a story of which he himself was one day to 
 supply the final chapter. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 The Great November Storm 
 
 " OTOCK," said my father one morning, " I 
 *^ am going to ship a couple of car-loads of 
 sheep to Kansas City in a day or two, and I 
 think it would be a good plan if you were to 
 come with me, as it is a part of the business you 
 will have to learn. Jamie has been with me 
 several times, but on this occasion he shall stay 
 at home and you shall go instead." 
 
 " Very well, sir," replied Stock. " I shall be 
 glad to go. How many sheep does a car hold ? " 
 
 " About three hundred ewes or two hundred 
 and fifty wethers — the cars are double-deckers, 
 you know. You and I ride in the caboose. It 
 is a disagreeable piece of work, but fortunately 
 it does not last long." 
 
 The two bunches of fat wethers and dry 
 ewes were started for town next day, and the 
 day after my father. Stock and I followed to load 
 them into the cars. This being done, the fast 
 freight presently pulled out, and waving my 
 143 
 
144 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 hand to the others as they stood on the back 
 platform of the caboose, I drove off homeward 
 alone. 
 
 During the few days of their absence I was 
 boss of the ranch, and though I felt the position 
 to be one of honor and responsibility it was also 
 one entailing some anxiety. The barometer was 
 never so closely watched before, I expect. For- 
 tunately the weather remained fine, though the 
 nights became very much colder, the thermome- 
 ter going down near the zero mark two or three 
 times. 
 
 It was on one especially cold morning that my 
 mother, when Hidalgo came up with the milk 
 cans, noticed that the boy's teeth were chattering 
 and his fingers blue with the cold. 
 
 " Why, Hidalgo," said she, " you are half 
 frozen. Where's your overcoat ? " 
 
 " I have not any," replied the youngster. 
 
 " What ! No overcoat ! Why, you'll freeze to 
 death. Come into the house at once and I'll 
 find you one." 
 
 Disappearing into a back room, my mother 
 soon brought out an old coat of mine which I 
 had long outgrown, but which was still sound 
 and warm. Though too small for me, it was 
 
The Great November Storm 145 
 
 too large for Hidalgo, but after the buttons had 
 been moved back six inches or so it fitted him. 
 pretty well. In addition to this, I fished out of 
 a cupboard an old pair of gloves, of which I 
 made him a present, and Hidalgo was set up for 
 the winter. The little fellow was exceedingly 
 grateful, and that there was no make-believe 
 about it he showed plainly enough some ten 
 days later. 
 
 My father and Stock had returned from Kan- 
 sas City after making a reasonably easy trip and 
 a satisfactory sale of the sheep, when one evening 
 there came a tap at the door and Hidalgo 
 entered. 
 
 " Good-evening, Hidalgo," said my father. 
 *' Everything all right?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the boy, " everything 
 all-ri'. I come to speak to you about the 
 copper pot ; " drawing it from under his coat as 
 he spoke. 
 
 " Ah ! About the copper pot ? Have you 
 found a good place to put it? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," the youngster replied, his eyes 
 twinkling. " I find a good place. Oh, yes, the 
 very best good place." 
 
 So saying, he stepped forward, placed the cup 
 
146 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 in my mother's lap and retreated again. " I 
 give it to you, senora," said he. 
 
 " No, no, Hidalgo," my mother exclaimed. 
 " I can't take it. Here, take it back, Hidalgo ; 
 you must take it back." 
 
 " Ah, no, senora," said the little fellow, back- 
 ing away and keeping his hands behind him. 
 " I cannot take it back. It is to me so great 
 pleasure to give it to the senora who have been 
 so kind to me." 
 
 " But, Hidalgo," my mother remonstrated, 
 " what would the good padre say ? He would 
 not like you to give it away." 
 
 At this the boy smiled with an air of triumph, 
 and thrusting his hand into his pocket he 
 brought out a letter. 
 
 "Look-see, senora," said he. " I write to the 
 good padre and I tell him how the senora give to 
 me the coat, and I ask him if I may not give to her 
 the copper pot — I have no thing else besides to 
 give — and the good padre he write to me and he 
 say, ' Yes, give it to the good senora who have 
 been so kind.' " 
 
 Hidalgo seemed to think this settled the mat- 
 ter, but notwithstanding the padre's permission 
 my mother still objected to taking the boy's 
 
The Great November Storm 147 
 
 only treasure. He was so earnest, however, in 
 his desire that she should accept the gift that at 
 last, not wishing to hurt his feelings, she con- 
 sented. 
 
 " Very well, Hidalgo," said she, " I'll take it, 
 and many thanks to you. Some day, perhaps, 
 I'll write to the good padre myself and ask him 
 to tell me the story of Peral and Don Blanco and 
 the gold ' behind the Harpstrings.' " 
 
 Hidalgo, much gratified at his success, here- 
 upon turned to my father and said : " The good 
 padre, senor, he write one more thing. He say, 
 ' Ask the Senor Fraser to put away the copper 
 pot safe.' He say, the senor Americano wish 
 very much to get the pot for himself, and he is 
 afeared, if he shall find out where it is, he shall 
 come here and try to take it away." 
 
 " Is that so ? " said my father. " Very well ; 
 I'll lock it up. So this seiior Americano is 
 anxious to lay his hands upon it, is he? Ap- 
 parently he knows and believes the story of a 
 hidden treasure and supposes the writing on the 
 pot will give him the clue to its whereabouts. 
 What is his name, Hidalgo ? " 
 
 " He is call always the seiior Americano, but 
 his name it is Mr. Latimer." 
 
148 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 *' Latimer ! " exclaimed my father. *' That's 
 odd. There's another name that seems familiar. 
 Did you ever hear it, mother ? " 
 
 My mother shook her head, " No," she re- 
 plied, "not that I remember." 
 
 " I have, though, I feel sure ; but Avhere or 
 when I can't think. Well, never mind. We 
 are not going treasure-hunting, an3diow ; so I'll 
 lock up the pot and Mr. Latimer, whoever he is, 
 will have to get along as well as he can without 
 it." 
 
 So the copper pot was put away and for a time 
 forgotten ; the more easily as there occurred 
 shortly afterwards an incident which was calcu- 
 lated to put everything else out of our heads for 
 the time being. 
 
 About the twentieth of November my father 
 was obliged to go to Denver on business which 
 was likely to keep him there several days. It 
 was a time of year when the prudent sheepman 
 does not care to be far from home, but the busi- 
 ness was urgent, and so, one bright and frosty 
 morning, he went off, leaving me in charge. 
 
 Needless to say, we watched the movements of 
 our guide and friend, the barometer, as a terrier 
 watches a rat-hole ; and, needless to say also, 
 
The Great November Storm 149 
 
 every time it took a step downward our hearts 
 went down with it, and every time it turned 
 back again our spirits rose in concert. For two 
 days its general tendency was upward, but on 
 the third morning we were disturbed to find that 
 it had dropped two-tenths of an inch during the 
 night, and what was much worse it was still 
 going down. 
 
 All that day the barometer slowly retreated 
 and all the next day ; my uneasiness increasing 
 in proportion to its descent. Twenty times a 
 day I set the indicator-hand, always backwards, 
 and twenty times a day I climbed the hill be- 
 hind the house to look at the sky. All this 
 time, however, the weather was beautiful and I 
 almost thought the barometer might be mis- 
 taken ; but I was not going to take any chances 
 if I could help it, especially as the two herders, 
 whenever I asked them what they thought about 
 it, always replied, " Plenty snow by'm'by." 
 
 On the second morning I sent the sheep north- 
 ward, but on the third I hesitated about sending 
 them out at all. The sheepman, though, is al- 
 ways very unwilling to keep the sheep corraled 
 all day if it can be avoided, and the sky being 
 still as clear as crystal, I sent the flocks north- 
 
150 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 ward again, cautioning both herders, however, to 
 keep a sharp lookout and to head the sheep 
 homeward at the first sign of a cloud on the 
 northern horizon. 
 
 It happened that the day following would be 
 the regular day for renewing the provision sup- 
 ply at Badger Springs, but feeling sure that a 
 big snow was imminent I debated with myself 
 whether I had not better run over there at once, 
 finally deciding that, as there were as yet no 
 visible indications of the coming storm, I had 
 better do so. Accordingly, immediately after 
 dinner, I put a load of provisions into the two- 
 wheeled cart and drove rapidly away to Badger 
 Springs to " feed the camp." Naturally, I was 
 reluctant to go, but I knew that Juan Vigil's 
 stock must be getting low, and that when the 
 snow did come there was no telling how soon I 
 should be able to get there. The worse the 
 weather, too, the more necessary it was that Juan 
 should be well provided. I might have asked 
 Stock to go, or I might have sent Hidalgo, but I 
 w^anted to make sure that things were all right 
 and to warn the herder of the approaching 
 storm, and so I thought I ought to go myself. 
 
 Away I went therefore and presently arriving 
 
The Great November Storm 151 
 
 at the camp I hurriedly transferred my load to 
 Juan's provision-box. Then, jumping into the 
 cart again, I drove off northward to look for 
 Juan himself. It was a great relief to find that 
 the herder understood his business : like all the 
 padre's proteges, he was a good man. He had 
 *' sensed " the coming storm somehow, and I 
 found him not more than a mile from camp with 
 his flock in a shallow draw which led straight 
 back to the corral. 
 
 Seeing that he needed no warning, after a few 
 words I drove away again. As I reached the top 
 of the gentle slope which bordered the draw, I 
 naturally cast a glance northward. To my 
 alarm, the whole line of the horizon had become 
 thick and lowering ! 
 
 Stopping my pony, I stood up in the cart and 
 shouted to Juan, waving my arm to him to get 
 his sheep back to the corral. The Mexican un- 
 derstood at once. I saw him run to turn the 
 flock, and satisfied that he was all right I set off 
 at a rapid trot for home, every now and then 
 casting an anxious glance behind me. 
 
 The more I looked the more alarmed I became. 
 The cloud was coming down upon me with fear- 
 ful rapidity ; it seemed to sweep the earth, blot- 
 
152 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 ting out everything as it advanced. " Get up ! " 
 I shouted ; and the good little pony, seeming to 
 understand the need of haste, broke into a 
 gallop. 
 
 By the time I reached the corner of the home 
 fence the northern sky was half obscured, and as 
 I jumped down to open the gate the first big wet 
 dab of snow struck me behind the ear. With- 
 out waiting to shut the gate, I sprang into the 
 cart again, galloped down to the horse-corral, 
 where in two seconds I unhitched the pony, and 
 leaving him still harnessed, I ran to the house. 
 
 My mother was standing on the porch looking 
 out for me. Her face expressed her anxiety as 
 she said : 
 
 " Jamie, this is going to be a very bad one, 
 I'm afraid. Stock has gone off to help Lopez 
 with the ewe flock, and Hidalgo to help Quin- 
 tano with the wethers." 
 
 " Good ! " I exclaimed. " How long ago ? " 
 " About twenty minutes, I should think." 
 '' Good ! " said I again. " Then I'll be off too." 
 "Take care of yourself, Jamie. Don't get 
 lost. This is going to be a dangerous storm. 
 Take care of yourself" 
 
 *' I will," I shouted in reply as I ran off. 
 
The Great November Storm 153 
 
 The snow, in large flakes, was corning down 
 pretty thickly by this time, but as yet it was not 
 very serious. The moment I reached the top of 
 the hill, however, I stopped aghast, for through 
 the veil of snow I could see the real storm, close 
 at hand, sweeping down upon me like a moving 
 wall. I was scared. Not for myself — I could 
 get home all right — but for the four men and 
 the two flocks whom I knew to be out there 
 somewhere in the midst of it. My mother was 
 right : this was going to be a dangerous one. 
 
 All this went through my head like a flash ; 
 and like a flash the storm was upon me. In- 
 stinctively, I turned my back and squatted upon 
 the ground. Whew ! What a blast was that 
 first one ! The snow, no longer in large flakes, 
 but small and hard, swept past me in horizontal 
 lines, and so thick was it near the ground that I 
 actually had difficulty in breathing. This, 
 though, was due to the drift snow which, scour- 
 ing over the surface of the plain, could find no 
 lodgment ; for on rising to my feet again 1 
 found it was not nearly so thick. It was thick 
 enough, however, in all conscience, for though I 
 was standing within ten feet of the fence which 
 divided the little horse pasture from the hay- 
 
154 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 bottom, not a sign of it could I see. To make 
 sure of my bearings, I took a few steps towards 
 it and came against the wire before I saw it. 
 This fence, I knew, ran due north and south, 
 and knowing that, I knew also that the storm 
 was coming straight from the north. Turn- 
 ing my face square to the wind, therefore, 
 I plunged forward into the blinding swirl of 
 snow. 
 
 From the house to the outside fence — that one 
 around which we had plowed the first fire-guard 
 — was a short half-mile, yet it took me nearly 
 half an hour to get there. The bottom wire had 
 been pulled loose and propped up to allow the 
 sheep to pass in and out, and stooping down I 
 crept under it. As I rose to my feet I heard a 
 shout a short distance away, and the next in- 
 stant I found myself suddenly surrounded by 
 sheep. It was the ewe flock ! 
 
 I stood quiet to let them pass, and then 
 shouted : '' Hallo, Stock ! Are you there ? " 
 
 "Hallo, Jamie! That you?" came a voice 
 out of the storm. " Yes, we are here all right, 
 Albino and I." 
 
 " Seen anything of the others ? " 
 
 '' No. They are off to the right somewhere — 
 
HALLO, STOCK! ARE YOU THERE'' 
 
The Great November Storm 155 
 
 westward. Hidalgo went to help Quintano. 
 What are you going to do?" 
 
 I hesitated for a moment, and then shouted in 
 reply : '' I'll go down with you. You'll have 
 difficulty in getting the sheep into the corral." 
 
 The corral gates, like all sheep-corral gates, 
 faced southward, and the difficulty I anticipated 
 would be in getting the sheep to turn the cor- 
 ner and for a brief moment face the storm as 
 they ran through the gate. If they once drifted 
 past the corral they were lost — we should never 
 get them back. 
 
 It happened just as I expected. As we 
 approached the corrals we all ran forward to head 
 the sheep through the gate, but try as we might, 
 the foolish things would not turn the corner. 
 They were close at home and they knew it, yet, 
 rather than face the blast for a moment, they 
 would have stood all night huddled against the 
 outside of the fence or else have drifted on to 
 their destruction before the storm. For a quar- 
 ter of an hour they remained thus immovable, 
 till at last, to our relief, one old ewe made a rush 
 through the gate and in another minute the 
 whole flock was safe in the sheds. 
 
 And now, what next ? 
 
156 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 It rested with me to decide, of course, and 
 after a brief consultation under shelter of the 
 sheds, I said : 
 
 '* I must get back to the outer fence. The 
 other flock must have come at least that far by 
 this time — they ought to be here now. If I 
 don't see or hear anything of them I will work 
 westward along the north fence of the hay- 
 bottom on the chance that they have drifted 
 against it and refuse to come on. Will you 
 come with me, Stock, or " 
 
 " Of course I'll come with you," Stock inter- 
 rupted. " You'll need my help if — when you 
 do find them." 
 
 That accidental "if" of Stock's hit me hard, 
 for it showed me that he shared the fear that 
 already weighed upon me — that we might not 
 find the flock at all. Their not having come 
 down yet looked bad. 
 
 " Come on, then," said I. " We'll get across 
 the little horse-pasture and follow the dividing- 
 fence northward." 
 
 It was well we did this. If we had tried it 
 without a guide we should probably have lost 
 ourselves inside the enclosure and wandered 
 about for an indefinite time until we struck 
 
The Great November Storm 157 
 
 some fence somewhere ; for as it was, though 
 the Httle horse-pasture was only a hundred 
 yards across, we found ourselves fifty yards 
 south of the point we had been making for 
 when we did reach the fence. With a storm 
 like that beating against one side of your face, 
 it is hardly possible to hold a straight course. 
 
 Keeping close to this fence, and working our 
 way northward one behind the other, we at 
 length reached the main north fence, and there 
 we stopped and listened. Not a sound was to 
 be heard, save only the continuous " siss-s-s " of 
 the snow driving through the grass at our feet. 
 It would be little use to shout, for how could 
 one's voice carry against that wind and through 
 that curtain of snow? Nevertheless, shout we 
 did, when, all unexpectedly and to our intense 
 delight there came an answering yell from 
 somewhere close by. 
 
 The next moment, out of the swirling maze 
 there stepped the herder, Jose Quintano — 
 alone ! 
 
 Never in m}^ life before had I received such a 
 shock ! Where were the sheep ? Where was 
 little Hidalgo ? 
 
 As Quintano stumbled forward — for he was 
 
158 Dale and Eraser, Sheepmen 
 
 nearly exhausted — he saw the question in my 
 eyes and replied aloud, *' I do not know, senor. 
 The sheep is lost ; and Hidalgo, I do not know 
 where he is." 
 
 He dropped his hands despairingly as he 
 spoke, and looked at me with an appealing 
 gaze, as though he expected me to upbraid him. 
 But I was far from feeling anger : he was not 
 responsible for Hidalgo's safety, and as for the 
 sheep, I knew he was not the man to have lost 
 them without good reason. 
 
 " How was it, Jose? " I asked. 
 
 Then, as we stood with our backs to the storm 
 and our heads close together, Quintano told his 
 story. 
 
 " When I see the cloud coming," said he, " I 
 start the sheep homeward, but it come down so 
 quick that it is snowing before I am half way. 
 Just before it begin I see long way off some one 
 running to me. It is Hidalgo. But the snow 
 come and I see him no more again. 
 
 " Then, very quick, there come the big storm 
 — Bang ! I cannot see the head of my flock, 
 only those behind, close by. The wind strike 
 the sheep a little on the left ; they edge away to 
 the right. I run round and try to push them 
 
The Great November Storm 159 
 
 back. Pretty soon the hollow places is full of 
 snow. I fall in one and roll down hill. I am 
 up again and run forward. The flock is gone ! 
 I run this way and that way. No sheep ! I 
 stop to think ; then I run again. No sheep ! 
 I cannot see ten feet, but again I run this 
 way and that way. No sheep — the flock is 
 lost! 
 
 *' I shout, but " He made a motion with 
 
 his hands, as much as to say, " What good is 
 that?" 
 
 " After long time — I do not know how long — I 
 come against the corner of the fence. I stop again 
 to think. If the sheep is gone past the corner 
 — southward — it is no use to look for them any 
 more. If they have not passed the corner I will 
 find them against the fence. I come all along 
 by the fence — no sheep I The flock is gone 
 south ; it is lost ! " 
 
 After a minute's silence, I said : " Let's get 
 home. There's nothing more to be done. It is 
 no use trying to find the sheep in this storm ; 
 still less Hidalgo. If he isn't in the cabin now, 
 I'm afraid " 
 
 There was no need to say more : they all knew 
 what I feared. Almost every winter one hears 
 
i6o Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 of a herder in one part of the country or another 
 who has been caught out and a few days later 
 found dead, 
 
 " Is there nothing to be done ? " asked 
 Stock. 
 
 " Not a thing," I replied, looking to the two 
 experienced herders for confirmation, both of 
 whom shook their heads. " If Hidalgo had 
 driven against the fence he would be home by 
 now. If he missed the fence, as I fear, there's 
 no knowing where he is. It would be useless to 
 look for him — worse than useless : suicidal. It 
 is bad enough as it is ; no need to make it 
 worse. No ; there's nothing to be done." 
 
 Hidalgo was not in the cabin — I had not ex- 
 pected that he would be— so, feeling thoroughly 
 depressed and miserable, we made our way to 
 the house, where my mother who had been 
 listening for us, let us in. 
 
 " Well ? " she asked inquiringly. And then, 
 after glancing at our faces, she added quickly, 
 "What is it?" 
 
 I could not answer. At the thought of 
 the little Mexican out all by himself in that 
 horrible storm I felt sick. It was Stock who 
 replied : 
 
The Great November Storm i6i 
 
 " The two herders and the ewe flock are in ; 
 
 but the wethers are out, and Hidalgo " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Hidalgo is out." 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 Hidalgo Saves the Wethee Flock 
 
 A BOUT the time that I started on my race 
 -^^^ homeward from Badger Springs that day, 
 Stock ascended the hill behind the house to look 
 at the sky. He had done so twice before during 
 my absence, finding everything serene, but this 
 time, the moment he crested the rise, his pulses 
 gave a jump, for across the whole breadth of the 
 northern horizon and already high above it was 
 stretched a thick gray curtain of cloud. 
 
 Instantly turning round, he ran back to the 
 house for his overcoat, shouting as he ran for 
 Hidalgo. The boy was in the stable, but he 
 heard the shout, and popping his head out of 
 the window he called back, " I am here, seiior." 
 
 " Get your coat," shouted Stock, " it's com- 
 ing ! " 
 
 There was no need to explain what was com- 
 ing, nor did Hidalgo wait to ask. He ran to the 
 cabin and in a moment reappeared with his 
 gloves in his mouth, working himself into his 
 overcoat as he hurried up the hill. 
 162 
 
Hildalgo Saves the Wether Flock 163 
 
 Stock had the start of him, and Hidalgo, see- 
 ing that he was making due north for the ewe 
 flock, himself diverged a little to the left, know- 
 ing that the wethers had gone out northwest- 
 ward. 
 
 So rapidly did the cloud advance that hardly 
 ten minutes had elapsed since they started ere 
 the first flakes of snow began to fall, and soon 
 the pair were hidden from each other's view. 
 Hidalgo, however, had already caught sight of 
 Quintano in the distance and he succeeded in 
 keeping his line pretty well until presently the 
 full fury of the blizzard struck him, whirling 
 him round and throwing him down upon his 
 hands and knees. 
 
 In this position for a few seconds he remained, 
 gasping for breath in the smother of snow which 
 whirled along the ground, unable to recover his 
 feet ; for he was a light weight and he was more- 
 over somewhat hampered by his rather volumi- 
 nous overcoat. 
 
 At length he staggered to his feet again, and 
 turning his back to the storm he paused for a 
 moment to get his breath and to reflect. Should 
 he go on or should he go back ? Boy though 
 he was, he knew well enough the danger of be- 
 
164 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 ing caught out in a blizzard ; he knew too that 
 by going straight down wind he would presently 
 come against the fence and that with the fence 
 for a guide he could get home all right. On the 
 other hand, there was Quintano somewhere close 
 by, doubtless much in need of help. 
 
 Hidalgo did not take long to decide. He had 
 come out to bring in the wether flock and he 
 was not going to give up at the first rebuff. 
 The chances of meeting the flock were slight 
 enough, but at least he would make a try, so, 
 turning round, he faced the storm again, and 
 verging slightly to his left — the w^ind his only 
 guide — he set out anew. Every now and then 
 he stopped to shout — though he knew well 
 enough how useless that would be unless Quin- 
 tano should happen to pass within twenty yards 
 of him — listening eagerly for an answering call. 
 But no answering call came, so on he went. 
 
 How long he had kept going there is no tell- 
 ing, an hour perhaps, perhaps only half an 
 hour — for time moves slowly under such cir- 
 cumstances. At any rate he presently came to 
 the conclusion that he had missed the flock and 
 that to search further was useless. 
 
 Pleased to think that he had done his best, 
 
Hidalgo Saves the Wether Flock 165 
 
 and not sorry that he might now turn home- 
 ward with a clear conscience, Hidalgo set his 
 back to the wind and trotted straight before it, 
 having no doubt that he would shortly arrive at 
 the long east-and-west fence of the home place. 
 He was glad to think that another hour would 
 bring him home, for it had been hard work 
 forcing his way against the wind, and while he 
 was not cold, in spite of anything he could do the 
 fine snow had insinuated itself under his clothes 
 — he could feel a wet patch or two against his 
 skin. 
 
 All this time, of course, he could see nothing. 
 His horizon was limited to a scant ten or twelve 
 feet in every direction, bounded on all sides by 
 the hurrying snowflakes ; and no matter how 
 far he advanced his horizon advanced with him, 
 it was always the same ; his feet moved, but for 
 all he could see he might have been standing 
 still. Nevertheless he trotted along, full of con- 
 fidence that he would presently come upon the 
 looked-for fence. 
 
 But Hidalgo had made a serious miscalcula- 
 tion. In forcing his way against the storm, 
 with the snow beating like driving sand against 
 the right side of his face, he had unconsciously 
 
1 66 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 edged away farther and farther towards the left, 
 so that when he turned and went straight back 
 with the wind the line he followed carried him 
 westward of the fence corner. 
 
 How long he had been going he never could 
 tell when at length the petrifying thought struck 
 him that he had missed the fence — that he was 
 lost ! His heart dropped into his boots ; as well 
 it might. 
 
 As is so often the case with a man who sud- 
 denly discovers that he is lost, Hidalgo's first 
 momentary impulse was to start oflP and run, no 
 matter in what direction ; but fortunately his 
 good sense came to his aid, and gathering his 
 faculties he stood still instead to try to think 
 it out. 
 
 Knowing the lie of the country, he remem- 
 bered that, unless by evil chance he had already 
 crossed it, there lay before him a shallow draw, 
 of which the general course was from south- 
 west to northeast. This draw led down to the 
 ranch, and if he could get into it he might yet 
 reach home by following along its bed. It was 
 exceedingly crooked, running in turn towards 
 every point of the compass, the easy slope of its 
 sides being in general undistinguishable from 
 
Hidalgo Saves the Wether Flock 167 
 
 those of a thousand other hills. In some few 
 places, however, they were abrupt, forming little 
 cliffs, some of which were as much as twenty 
 feet high, cut out by the water which now and 
 then ran down the draw ; for though it was 
 nearly always dry there would come days, some- 
 times two or three in one season, sometimes 
 only once in two seasons, when a heavy thunder- 
 storm would send a rush of water down it. It 
 was this flood-water which had scooped out the 
 little cliffs at the sharp bends. 
 
 If Hidalgo should come upon one of these 
 miniature precipices he would know where he 
 was ; but the chances of his happening upon one 
 of them were of the smallest, as he well knew. 
 There was, however, one other feature peculiar 
 to the draw, due also to the flood-water, and this 
 was that in its sandy bed there grew a great 
 quantity of a short yellow weed, which, as the 
 boy was also aware, grew nowhere else within a 
 radius of five miles. 
 
 Having thought out all this, Hidalgo advanced 
 again, his chief fear now being lest he might al- 
 ready have crossed the draw without recognizing 
 it. It was blind groping, but every time his 
 feet told him that he had come to the bottom of 
 
1 68 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 a slope he kicked aside the snow and examined 
 the ground for yellow weeds. Finding none, he 
 would go forward again, climb the opposite 
 slope, descend once more, and once more search 
 the ground for yellow weeds. This he did eight 
 or ten times, each time growing more and more 
 uneasy with the apprehension that he had indeed 
 gone past the only landmark which could possibly 
 guide him to safety. 
 
 At length, while descending a rather steeper 
 slope than usual, a blast of extra fury caused 
 him to throw up both arms before his face. At 
 the same instant, unable to see where he was 
 going, he stepped out into space, and falling 
 prone he was buried for the moment in the 
 snow. As he rose up on his hands and knees 
 something soft and firm touched him upon his 
 cheek. With a sharp exclamation he straight- 
 ened up, and there, its nose within a foot of his 
 own, stood a sheep ! — a black, one-horned sheep 
 — Uncle Remus, the fighting wether ! 
 
 Never in his life had Hidalgo been so glad to 
 see any one as he was to see his old friend 
 and admirer, Uncle Remus. Impulsivel}^ he 
 clasped him round the neck and gave him a 
 good hug ; a demonstration to which the usu- 
 
Hidalgo Saves the Wether Flock 169 
 
 ally pugnacioas sheep submitted with a good 
 grace, being himself undoubtedly equally glad 
 to see Hidalgo. 
 
 The boy sprang to his feet. All about him 
 were sheep, crowded close together. He had 
 tumbled into the midst of the wether flock. 
 
 But, if so, where was Quintano ? Half a 
 dozen times he shouted, but as there was no 
 answering call he rightly concluded that the 
 herder had somehow become separated from his 
 flock and was now either wandering in the 
 storm or had found his way home. What, then, 
 was he to do himself? 
 
 First of all he thrust his arm into the drift, 
 and grasping a handful of the herbage beneath 
 he shook it free of snow. Good ! The yellow 
 weeds at last ! So it was into the long-sought 
 draw that he had tumbled. 
 
 But whereabouts in the draw ? How far from 
 home was he ? 
 
 Looking about, he thought he could make out 
 a dark mass looming above him a few yards 
 away, and stepping forward, he found as he had 
 expected that he was standing close beside one 
 of the perpendicular banks already mentioned 
 as being characteristic of the draw. It was 
 
170 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 eighteen or twenty feet high, and Hidalgo, with 
 good reason, congratulated himself that he had 
 not stepped blindly over its edge, as he so easily 
 might have done. 
 
 He knew now where he was — scarcely a mile 
 from home ; though to get the sheep to traverse 
 that mile he was well aware would be impossi- 
 ble. 
 
 In the first place, if he should attempt to 
 drive them straight home, the immediate conse- 
 quence would be that they would turn their tails 
 to the wind and drift away out upon the open, 
 shelterless plain, when few, if any perhaps, would 
 ever be recovered. They must stick to the 
 draw. But, on the other hand, to get the sheep 
 to follow the draw would be hopeless. Hidalgo 
 knew that just beyond the cliff its crooked bed 
 turned sharply southward, and then as sharply 
 northward. This would bring the sheep with 
 their faces square to the wind, when they would 
 instantly become unmanageable. 
 
 The best he could do would be to move the 
 flock forward a short distance to the comparative 
 shelter of the cliff; and this he immediately set 
 about doing. The sheep were somewhat un- 
 willing to stir, some even were already lying 
 
Hidalgo Saves the Wether Flock 171 
 
 down, wearied by the unaccustomed weight of 
 snow upon their backs, but the boy, bustling 
 about and kicking up the prostrate ones, soon 
 had the whole bunch collected at the foot of the 
 bluff. 
 
 Here at once another question presented it- 
 self : should he stay with the sheep, or should 
 he try to get home himself? 
 
 It did not take him long to reach a decision — 
 he would stay with the flock. Should he leave 
 them, the sheep would be buried deep out of 
 sight before morning ; though this by itself 
 might not be very disastrous, for sheep will live 
 a wonderfully long time beneath the snow. 
 But many of them would lie down, when others, 
 according to their strange habit, would pile up 
 on them and lying down too would smother 
 those beneath ; in which case the loss might be 
 heavy indeed. As to the danger to himself, 
 Hidalgo believed that it was perhaps less risky 
 to stay than to go. It was becoming dark by 
 this time, and to successfully follow the shallow 
 draw would be a matter of exceeding difficulty ; 
 whereas, on the other hand, by staying where 
 he was, he would be sheltered from the direct 
 fury of the wind and — a matter of no small im- 
 
172 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 portance — he would have the sheep for com- 
 pany. 
 
 Hidalgo decided to stay. 
 
 It was a fearful night, a dreadful night for any 
 living creature to be out in ; j^et through it all, 
 hour after hour, hour after hour, the little Mexi- 
 can walked up and down and to and fro among the 
 sheep, kicking up those that were down and keep- 
 ing the whole flock continuously stirring. As 
 time passed and the blackness of darkness fell 
 upon him the work became harder and harder ; 
 the sheep, weighted by snow, grew less and less 
 willing to move, and more and more inclined to 
 lie down and give in. But this would be fatal 
 — they must keep moving — and though the boy 
 was so weary he could hardly stagger, though 
 time and again falling over some prostrate sheep, 
 it seemed to him impossible to get up again, he 
 kept moving. The snow, pouring down upon 
 him from the top of the bluff in one continuous 
 billow, was whisked this way and that by de- 
 flected currents of air, sometimes half smother- 
 ing him, sometimes scooped up and whirled 
 away again ; and through it all, with a courage 
 and determination any grown man might envy, 
 the boy kept moving and kept moving. 
 
Hidalgo Saves the Wether Flock 173 
 
 At last ! — there came a change ! With the 
 first faint glimmer of daylight the wind sud- 
 denly stopped ; then as suddenly blew strong 
 from the west ; then back again to the north. 
 Hidalgo's heart gave a great jump ; the very 
 sheep lifted their heads — they knew the sign : 
 the storm had broken. 
 
 In half an hour more the wind had died 
 down, scarcely any snow was falling, and by the 
 increased light Hidalgo could take in his situa- 
 tion. The better he was able to see, the better 
 was he pleased to think that he had stayed with 
 the sheep. The snowfall had been tremendous. 
 All about him the drifts were heaped up like the 
 waves of the ocean, ten feet and even twenty 
 feet high. He was down in the bottom of a pit 
 whose walls were piled-up drifts and whose floor 
 was hard-packed snow, trodden to the consistency 
 of ice by the sharp little hoofs of the ever-mov- 
 ing flock. 
 
 When, about an hour later, after a night of 
 such anxiety as I hope never to pass again, Stock 
 and I and the two herders found him, we came 
 upon a sight none of us is likely to forget. There 
 in the bottom of the great snow-pit were all the 
 
174 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 sheep gathered closely about Hidalgo, who, sit- 
 ting with his back against the bluff, his mouth- 
 organ at his lips, was playing '* Wait till the 
 clouds roll by," with equal enthusiasm and inac- 
 curacy. 
 
 What need to tell of our meeting? Our 
 thankfulness and relief of mind were only to be 
 measured by the anxiety we had suffered. The 
 one least affected, I think, was Hidalgo himself 
 
 A passage was dug through the drifts, the 
 sheep run through and counted out. The tally 
 was complete ; not one was missing. Hidalgo 
 had set out to bring in the wether flock — and he 
 had done it I 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 Gathering the Wreckage 
 
 " TT was a remarkable performance/' said my 
 J- father, who had hurried home at the first 
 news of the storm, " a really remarkable per- 
 formance for such a youngster. Indeed not 
 many grown men would have shown such cour- 
 age, coolness and judgment. The good padre 
 said none too much when he described him as a 
 faithful worker. We must keep an eye on that 
 boy ; he is not to be lost sight of. I shall raise 
 his wages five dollars." 
 
 Hidalgo was naturally much pleased at this 
 unexpected increase of pay, accepting it with 
 modest gratefulness, as though quite unaware 
 that his exploit had been anything out of the 
 common ; though what pleased him far more was 
 my father's promise that he would write to the 
 good padre and tell him how well his little friend 
 had acquitted himself 
 
 For ourselves, if we had needed confirmation 
 175 
 
176 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 of our opinion that Hidalgo had deserved well 
 of us, we had it in abundance when during the 
 following week the reports began to come in of 
 losses sustained by our neighbors. Almost all 
 had suffered to some extent ; two or three of 
 them pretty seriously. The Stephensons, for in- 
 stance, had a flock caught out, a large part of 
 which was never recovered ; while the herder, 
 after drifting for miles before the storm, had be- 
 come crazed, for, when found, he had thrown 
 away his overcoat and was carrying his shoes in 
 his hand, his frozen feet being filled with cactus 
 spines. Wonderful to relate, this man recovered. 
 Not so two other unfortunates, one to the north- 
 west of us and the other thirty miles east. 
 They, poor fellows, perished miserably, one of 
 them not being found till a month later, when, 
 together with sixty dead sheep, he was dug out 
 of a big drift. 
 
 It was stories like these which illustrated the 
 fearful risk our little Mexican had run that night. 
 
 Among the losers was our northern neighbor. 
 Draper. My father brought the news of it from 
 town when he drove home that next morning, 
 and the first thing he did after hearing our 
 story was to despatch Stock and me on horse- 
 
Gathering the Wreckage 177 
 
 back to see if we could not gather up some of 
 the strays. 
 
 *' I must ride over to the eastern camp my- 
 self," said he, " to see how the two Juans came 
 through, and then on to Badger Springs. You 
 haven't turned out the flocks yet, I see, but 
 they might as well go ; the hollows are full of 
 snow, but the hills are bare. Tell Quintano to 
 go north again to-day. The storm is over, I 
 think, but we'll send the sheep north this morn- 
 ing, anyhow. Then you two boys get your 
 ponies and help Draper hunt his strays — you are 
 likely to find a good many along our north 
 fence — any you find, bring them in and pen 
 them in the invalid corral. Thank goodness, 
 Draper's sheep are clean ! He's a good neigh- 
 bor ; we must do what we can for him." 
 
 My father had reason to thank goodness that 
 Draper's sheep were clean ; otherwise the storm 
 might have brought disaster upon us even after 
 it was all over. For there is one possible conse- 
 quence of a blizzard which the sheepman fears 
 almost as much as the storm itself, and that is 
 the dissemination of that dreaded scourge, the 
 scab, from stray sheep. 
 
 It is easy to understand how an infected flock, 
 
178 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 scattered far and wide over the range, may work 
 mischief incalculable, for one such sheep will 
 contaminate a thousand. It is easy to under- 
 stand, too, how any sheepman who may happen 
 to have to the north of him a neighbor with a 
 scabby flock will keep a very sharp lookout after 
 a storm. Should a stray be discovered in the 
 flock it will be instantly caught and examined, 
 when the detection of a suspicion of scab will 
 prove its death-warrant : no matter whose it may 
 be, it will be forthwith killed and buried. Per- 
 haps it will have been caught in time — perhaps 
 not. Perhaps the anxious watcher a week or 
 two later will turn cold and grind his teeth as he 
 notes that ominous sign so well known to all 
 sheepmen : a sheep scrubbing the root of its tail 
 against a post, or trying to bite itself between the 
 shoulders ; for he realizes that the evil has been 
 done ; that he has before him weeks — or months 
 — of work, worry and expense before his flock 
 shall be clean again. 
 
 We had none of this to fear from Draper's 
 sheep, fortunately, and it was with cordial good 
 will that Stock and I rode off* to try to gather up 
 some of his strays for him. As my father had 
 predicted, we found a large number stranded 
 
Gathering the Wreckage 179 
 
 along our north fence — one hundred and seventy 
 of them — and having driven them in, we started 
 again. 
 
 In a couple of hours we had gathered up 
 about forty more, scattered in ones and twos and 
 threes far and wide over the plain, when, gazing 
 all around through my field-glass in the hope of 
 spying out others, I saw, far away to the south, 
 a coyote trotting straight towards us. The wind 
 was blowing gently from the north, and the 
 co^^ote was coming straight up-wind, traveling 
 down one hill and up the next with such steady 
 perseverance that I felt sure he had some set 
 purpose in his mind. 
 
 Calling to my companion, I handed him the 
 glass, saying : 
 
 " Take a look at that coyote. Stock. What do 
 you suppose he's up to ? " 
 
 Stock watched the animal for some time, and 
 then, handing back the glass, replied : '' He's 
 evidently out on business. He's following his 
 nose as straight as a line, and I expect his nose 
 tells him there is mutton to be had up in this 
 direction. Perhaps it is this little bunch we 
 have gathered ; perhaps there are sheep between 
 us and him. Let's ride to meet him." 
 
i8o Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 It so happened that when we started the 
 coyote was out of sight in a hollow, and it also 
 happened that each time he was on a hill we 
 were in a hollow, so that w^e did not catch a 
 glimpse of him again until, suddenly, on reach- 
 ing the crown of a long rise, we came face to 
 face with him on top of a hill just opposite, 
 when, at sight of us, he instantly turned tail 
 and ran off in the direction whence he had come. 
 
 But the movements of the coyote interested us 
 no more ; we discovered that he had unwittingly 
 done us an inestimable service. 
 
 Below us in the hollow was a wide-spread, 
 hummocky drift of snow about half an acre in 
 extent. Between it and us eight or ten sheep 
 were quietly feeding, which, when we suddenly 
 appeared above them, ran together and stared at 
 us. At the same moment a dozen other sheep 
 which had been lying around the edge of the 
 drift, half buried, sprang up and joined their 
 companions. 
 
 " Stock," said I, " we've got a day's work be- 
 fore us. If I'm not mistaken, that drift is full 
 of sheep." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder. Come on. We'll soon 
 find out." 
 
Gathering the Wreckage i8i 
 
 Jumping from our ponies, we forthwith waded 
 hip-deep into the drift, when Stock, more im- 
 petuous than I, ahnost immediately went a 
 header into the snow, disappearing from sight 
 entirely. But the laugh with which I greeted 
 this accident was turned into an exclamation of 
 " Good ! " when he presently emerged again 
 with a sheep, all alive and kicking, in his 
 hands. 
 
 Then began in earnest one of the hardest day's 
 work I ever experienced. The only way of 
 finding a sheep was by kicking against it ; the 
 next thing being to reach down into the snow, 
 drag it to the surface, clasp it to your chest with 
 your arms under its fore-legs, and thus wade 
 through the drift and set it down ; when, with- 
 out a sign of gratitude, it would walk off and 
 begin to feed as though nothing had happened. 
 Stock, though, was not content to carry out one 
 at a time. Having found a sheep, he would set 
 it down behind him in his track, hunt up an- 
 other, and then, with a sheep under each arm, 
 "wade ashore." It saved time, he explained; 
 which doubtless it did, though for me, one 
 sheep at a trip was all I cared to attempt. This 
 was tremendous labor, as will be imagined, but 
 
1 82 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 after a time it became no longer necessary to 
 carry them out. Our frequent going to and fro 
 had made good trails in which we could set the 
 sheep, when a kick behind was sufficient to 
 make them struggle out for themselves. 
 
 About noon I jumped upon my pony and gal- 
 loped home to get some dinner for myself and 
 to bring back some for Stock. There I found my 
 father, who, on hearing of our find, put old Bony 
 into the cart and drove back with me. On our 
 way, we saw in the distance a horseman, whom, 
 on examining him through the glass, I recog- 
 nized as Draper himself. Him we signaled, and 
 soon he galloped up to us. 
 
 "What luck. Draper?" called out my father 
 to him. 
 
 '* Mighty poor," replied the sheepman, whose 
 face plainly showed his anxiety. " I've gathered 
 up forty or fifty, and my two herders who are 
 out hunting also will pick up some, no doubt ; 
 but what is that out of fifteen hundred ? It's 
 hit me a hard lick this time, Fraser." 
 
 " Well, I've good news for you, neighbor. 
 We've picked up a couple of hundred or more, 
 and what's better, the boys believe they've found 
 the main flock snowed under in a hollow down 
 
Gathering the Wreckage 183 
 
 here. They've been working on them all morn- 
 ing ; they've pulled out lots of them, and now 
 that there are four of us we'll have 'em all out 
 before night." 
 
 It was good to see the poor man's face 
 brighten. He was a man who, with little else 
 but good sense and a strong body by way of cap- 
 ital, had by fifteen years of hard work and sober 
 living gathered together a flock of five thousand 
 sheep, and to him the loss of a thousand head 
 or so would be a disaster of the first magnitude. 
 No wonder, then, that his face cleared at the 
 good news we brought him. 
 
 Stock was still hard at it when we arrived, his 
 coat off" and his body steaming in spite of the 
 cold snow. 
 
 " Great fellow, that ! " exclaimed Draper, ad- 
 miringly ; and without more ado, in he plunged 
 himself. 
 
 Before sunset that evening there was not a 
 square inch of the big drift that had not been 
 broken up, it was criss-crossed with tracks in 
 every direction. That there was not a sheep 
 left below the surface we were convinced. Even 
 Draper himself was satisfied ; and well he might 
 be, for we had pulled out nine hundred and 
 
184 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 eighty-eight live sheep and only eleven dead 
 ones — a grand day's work ! 
 
 Altogether, with those we had already picked 
 up, with those he and his herders recovered, and 
 with the twenty or thirty which drifted into our 
 flocks during the following week, our good neigh- 
 bor's loss amounted only to about forty sheep — 
 a result for which thanks were mainly due to 
 that coyote. 
 
 The rest of that winter passed without note- 
 worthy incident : we had falls of snow, of course, 
 but nothing severe enough to keep the sheep in 
 for more than a day or two at a time ; the last 
 one coming late in March. This w^as an oppor- 
 tune and welcome fall, for the hot sun soon 
 melted it off, starting the green grass in readi- 
 ness for the thousands of lambs which would be 
 making their appearance early in May. 
 
 " We shall have a fine stand of grass, Jamie ! " 
 exclaimed my father, rubbing his hands. 
 "There should be no trouble about the ewes 
 * owning ' well this spring." 
 
 " What do you mean by ' owning well ' ? " 
 asked Stock. 
 
 " Why, sometimes, when grass is scarce, the 
 ewes don't care for their lambs; they will — 
 
Gathering the Wreckage 185 
 
 some of them — desert themi without compunc- 
 tion. Strange thing, isn't it? But good grass 
 means that the ewes have plenty of milk, and 
 then they are the most devoted of mothers. It 
 means an immense difference in the labor and 
 botheration of the lambing season, whether the 
 sheep ' mother ' their lambs properly or not." 
 
 The month of May duly arrived, and with it 
 arrived the lambs by hundreds. A lively time 
 we had of it, too, taking care of them, even 
 though grass was good, and even though we had 
 the assistance of half a dozen extra hands, hired 
 for the occasion. 
 
 Every morning, going down to the corrals, we 
 would find fifty or sixty new lambs. These we 
 had to sort out, making sure that each lamb 
 was provided with a mother and each mother 
 provided with a lamb, and send them out in lit- 
 tle bunches, twenty or so to a bunch, and two 
 bunches to a herder, to some grassy spot near 
 home where the mothers might feed — for the 
 little tottering lambs, of course, cannot travel 
 any distance the first day. The next day this 
 was repeated, and the next, and so on for several 
 days. But one seldom has hands enough to 
 afford a herder to each day's " crop " of lambs, 
 
1 86 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 nor is it necessary ; for as soon as they gain a 
 little strength all those lambs which are nearly 
 of an age are bunched, and then bunched again, 
 until presently there is a little flock of perhaps 
 seven hundred — not more — which is sent out 
 on the range to feed. The main business of the 
 herder in charge is to see that his lambs keep to 
 their own bunch ; and a fine, active business it 
 is ; one which will wear out the temper and 
 patience of any but a Mexican. 
 
 When a lamb gets to be a week old or there- 
 abouts he is as sportive as a kitten and as full 
 of curiosity as an antelope. He is moreover the 
 most feather-brained creature on earth : one 
 never can tell what he is going to do next. His 
 chief object in early life is to get out of his own 
 bunch and mix himself up with another, when, if 
 the herder cannot succeed in heading him off, he 
 will have a pretty rough time of it. He seems 
 to think that " any old sheep " will do for a 
 mother — but he very soon finds out his mistake. 
 The first strange ewe he tackles will reach round, 
 give one sniff and knock him over. This gives 
 him a shock, indeed, but does not discourage 
 him. He tries another — with the same result. 
 After many such rebuffs, finding that none of 
 
Gathering the Wreckage 187 
 
 the sheep will have anything to say to him, he 
 gives it up, and the consequence is that he will 
 starve to death unless rescued. 
 
 Then his curiosity is without limit. What- 
 ever he sees he thinks he must investigate, and 
 having no experience and consequently no 
 knowledge of danger, he will hob-nob indiffer- 
 ently with a sheep or a man or a cow or a coyote. 
 
 One instance of this will serve as an example. 
 It was towards the end of the season when, my 
 services being no longer required as a herder, I 
 walked out to see how the flocks were getting 
 on. The first one I came to was that in charge 
 of Hidalgo, and just at the moment I came in 
 sight of it a coyote appeared from somewhere, 
 made a sudden rush, grabbed a lamb by the 
 wool between its shoulders and ran off with it. 
 Hidalgo at once started in pursuit, when the 
 coyote, after running a couple of hundred yards, 
 being handicapped by the weight of the lamb 
 and by the banging of its legs against his own, 
 dropped his intended victim and made off. 
 
 The lamb, after rolling over and over, sprang 
 to its feet, looked about it and — incredible 
 though it may seem — set off in pursuit of the 
 coyote ! Hidalgo could ran like the wind, but 
 
1 88 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 a seven-day lamb can run like a hurricane, and 
 undoubtedly this foolish little creature would 
 have run on to its destruction had not the coyote 
 fortunately disappeared from sight over a hill. 
 Thereupon the lamb instantly stopped, when 
 Hidalgo, as instantly, fell upon his hands and 
 knees and set to work to bleat like a sheep. 
 The lamb heard him, turned, ran straight to 
 him and w^as forthwith captured and carried 
 back to safety. 
 
 Every night during the season we brought in 
 each bunch, one at a time, and turned it into a 
 separate pen under the sheds. As they came in 
 at the corral gate, the old sheep, knowing where 
 they were, ran forward ; thus sifting out all the 
 lambs, which were left trailing behind. As a 
 consequence, the lambs at once became convinced 
 that they had lost their mothers ; they all wanted 
 to turn back and run out upon the range to 
 look for them ; and a lively time we had to pre- 
 vent their doing so. At length mothers and 
 lambs were shut up together and left to sort 
 each other out ; when the next bunch was driven 
 in, and the next, and so on until they were all 
 safely penned. 
 
 All this time every ewe is going about bawling 
 
Gathering the Wreckage 189 
 
 for her lamb, while the larab itself, standing 
 with its legs astraddle, takes in as much breath 
 as it can hold — you can see its little stomach 
 swell out like a balloon — opens its mouth and 
 lets out a piercing squall ; repeating the opera- 
 tion again and again without intermission. One 
 can understand that when there are about two 
 thousand ewes and two thousand lambs all un- 
 der one roof and all bawling and squalling at 
 the same time to the very best of their ability, 
 the babel that ensues is enough — almost — to 
 crack the ear-drums of a marble statue. 
 
 Before the month was out all the lambs were 
 strong enough to go out on the range, and each 
 had learned the first lesson required of him, 
 namely, to distinguish his own mother's voice 
 from the voices of the nineteen hundred and 
 ninety-nine other lambs' mothers — no small 
 feat ; the extra hands had left us ; and things 
 at the ranch again fell into their regular order 
 for a short time. 
 
 Then, about the tenth of June, the shearing 
 gangs came up from the south, and once more 
 we were up to our eyes in work. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 The Face in the Window 
 
 " T~^0 you think you could shear a sheep, 
 -■->/ Stock ? " asked my father, as the two 
 stood side by side in the shearing shed, watching 
 the experts whip off fleece after fleece with the 
 dexterity born of long practice. 
 
 " I think so," replied Stock. " At any rate I 
 should like to try. I've been timing that big 
 Mexican : he's taking them off at the rate of a 
 hundred a day. Even that boy over there comes 
 for a check every twelve minutes ; it looks 
 simple enough. I'd like to try it." 
 
 " All right," rejoined my father, smiling, 
 " choose a sheep and pitch in ; don't cut him 
 up more than you can help. I'll serve out the 
 checks." 
 
 Each shearer as he took off a fleece brought it 
 up and laid it upon a bench, receiving in return 
 a metal check redeemable at the end of the day 
 at five cents. Stock had been serving out the 
 checks, but now, resigning that ofiice to my 
 190 
 
The Face in the Window 191 
 
 father, he chose a pair of shears, picked out a 
 sheep and setting it up on its haunches went to 
 work. 
 
 It was an unlucky day for that sheep when 
 Stock selected it for his maiden effort. For 
 hours it sat there while the perspiring shearer 
 snipped and snipped and snipped ; and when at 
 last, late in the afternoon it tottered off to join 
 its companions it had lost so many scraps of 
 skin that it looked as though it had been put 
 through a thrashing-machine. 
 
 My mother had joined us in the sheds when 
 Stock, more nearly played out than I had ever 
 seen him before, banged his fleece and his shears 
 down upon the table and stretched his arms 
 across it to ease his wearied back. 
 
 " Well, Stock," said she, " how should you 
 like to adopt sheep-shearing as a means of 
 livelihood ? " 
 
 " Not for me, thank you," replied he : " not 
 while there's any other work under the sun. 
 I'd rather beat out a prairie-fire single-handed, 
 or lug out sheep from a snowdrift all day long, 
 than shear one new-born lamb — even though it 
 were a dwarf lamb and had been born stark 
 naked." 
 
192 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 My mother laughed at Stock's emphatic way 
 of expressing his opinion, but she knew him 
 pretty well, and guessing that he was merely 
 suffering from a temporary fit of depression, she 
 said, "Well, let us wait till to-morrow and 
 see." 
 
 She felt pretty sure that our friend would 
 never give in at one failure, and in this she was 
 right. Next morning Stock tried again, and 
 guided by his previous experience he succeeded 
 in shearing two sheep that day without scarring 
 them up very seriously ; and before the gang 
 moved on to the next place he was shearing ten 
 a day. 
 
 When my mother had joined us in the sheds 
 that afternoon I noticed that she was carrying 
 her photograph camera : thinking that some 
 pictures of the shearing would interest her 
 friends in the East she had brought it down. 
 On the way from the house she passed the 
 herders' cabin which she "snapped off" as a 
 specimen of a country residence on the plains, 
 and then, continuing to the sheds, she took 
 three or four pictures of the shearing operations, 
 and returned to the house to develop the films. 
 
 That same evening, when the work was over, 
 
The Face in the Window 193 
 
 my father, Stock and I were walking up to the 
 house together, when, as we passed the cabin, 
 Hidalgo appeared in the doorway and requested 
 us to " come here." 
 
 " What is it, Hidalgo? " asked my father. 
 
 The youngster pointed inside the cabin. 
 ■' Look-see, senor," said he. 
 
 We looked as requested, when the boy's ex- 
 citement was at once explained. The cabin had 
 been ransacked ! Every blanket had been 
 dragged from the bunks and flung into a corner, 
 as had been also the sheepskins and mattresses, 
 the latter having been split open and emptied 
 of their contents. The herders' clothes-bags had 
 been shaken out and they and the clothes flung 
 into the same corner. Even the provision sacks 
 had been dumped upon the floor, and the big 
 wooden coal-box upset and the coal scattered far 
 and wide. 
 
 " Well ! " exclaimed my father. " Whoever 
 did this didn't do it just for mischief: he was 
 making a search. He was in a desperate hurry, 
 too, or he wouldn't have stepped in the flour, as 
 you see he did, and left his track on this stool 
 when he stood up on it to run his hand along 
 under the eaves. He was pretty thorough, 
 
194 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 though, for you see, wherever the tar-paper on 
 the walls bulged he has ripped it open and torn 
 it down. I wonder if he found what he was 
 looking for." 
 
 " No, sir," replied the little Mexican, " I think 
 he do not find it." 
 
 " Why do you think that, Hidalgo? I don't 
 see what you have to go by." 
 
 " Look-see, senor," replied the boy, picking 
 up the little coal-shovel. " See the corner of the 
 shovel, it is bent. And see," putting his finger 
 upon a spot on the floor where a splinter had 
 been newly knocked out, '' The man search the 
 coal-box last. He scatter the coal with the 
 shovel ; he cannot find what he look for ; he is 
 mad ; he throw the shovel upon the floor very 
 hard because he is mad. If he is mad, it is be- 
 cause he cannot find what he look for. No ? " 
 
 '' That's it," assented my father. " But what 
 can the fellow have been looking for, anyhow ? 
 Money? Nobody would look for money in a 
 herders' cabin." 
 
 " I think not money," replied Hidalgo. " I 
 think " 
 
 The boy's eyes wandered to a nail in the wall, 
 and following his glance we caught his meaning. 
 
The Face in the Window 195 
 
 " The copper pot ! " we all exclaimed with one 
 breath. 
 
 " That was it, no doubt," said my father. " I 
 wonder who the fellow was. Have you seen any 
 one about, Hidalgo? " 
 
 But neither Hidalgo nor any one else had seen 
 anybody about, and the matter remained a 
 mystery until next evening, when my mother 
 surprised herself and all the rest of us by reveal- 
 ing the identity of the marauder. 
 
 Having brought out the photographs she had 
 made the day before, my mother was showing 
 them to us, when Stock, who was examining the 
 picture of the herders' cabin, cried out, " Hallo ! 
 Who's this looking out of the window ? " 
 
 We all crowded round to see. Sure enough, 
 set in the dark frame of the cabin window, was 
 the likeness of a man's face ; a face with a high, 
 narrow forehead and a long nose very much bent 
 over to one side. That it was a portrait of the 
 burglarious intruder there could be no doubt ; 
 and the inference was that, hearing my mother's 
 step, he had peeped out just in time to be photo- 
 graphed. 
 
 " Who is he, I wonder," said Stock. "I never 
 saw him before." 
 
196 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 " Nor I," added my mother. 
 
 *' I have, though — somewhere," remarked my 
 father, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. " I have 
 an impression that I once knew the owner of 
 that face, but I can't think where or when." 
 
 " Here's Hidalgo, father, coming up with the 
 milk-cans," I cried. " Let's ask him. Hi, 
 Hidalgo ! " I shouted through the window. 
 " Come in here." 
 
 The little Mexican entered, when my mother, 
 handing him the picture, asked, " Who is that 
 looking out of the window, Hidalgo ? " 
 
 " Mr. Latimer, seilora," replied the boy, with- 
 out an instant's hesitation. 
 
 " What ! The Seiior Americano from Casa 
 Grande ? The man who tried to get the secret 
 of the copper pot out of your grandfather ? The 
 man whom the good padre warned us against? " 
 
 " Si, seilora." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " Si, senora, I am sure ; oh-yes-quite sure." 
 
 " Ah ! So he was searching for the copper 
 pot then." 
 
 As Hidalgo could tell us nothing more, he 
 went out again, when we all turned to my 
 father, who, standing with both hands upon the 
 
The Face in the Window 197 
 
 table, was earnestly contemplating the photo- 
 graph, a thoughtful frown upon his absorbed 
 countenance. Suddenly he thumped the table 
 with his fist and cried : 
 
 " I know now. I know now. I've got him. 
 Jamie, jump upon that chair and reach down 
 the old scrap-book from the top shelf. Now ! " 
 — turning over the leaves and handing to us an 
 old-fashioned photograph representing a group 
 of well-dressed young men — " Now ! Find Mr. 
 Latimer ! " 
 
 It was easy. In the front row, and in the 
 very middle of the row, stood a young fellow 
 with a long face, a high forehead, and a very 
 crooked nose — the face in the cabin window 
 without a doubt. 
 
 " That picture," said my father, " is a photo- 
 graph of the graduating class of the year I en- 
 tered college. The man in the middle was the 
 cleverest fellow of his year, and — unfortunately 
 — a thoroughly bad lot. His name " 
 
 My father stopped short, glanced, with a very 
 odd expression on his face, first at Stock and 
 then at my mother, and then, addressing the 
 latter with peculiar emphasis, said impressively: 
 " His name is James Latimer White ! " 
 
198 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 If he had expected my mother to be aston- 
 ished, he was not disappointed, for she took a 
 step backwards, threw up both hands, and cried, 
 *' You don't mean it ! " 
 
 Then, for half a minute, they gazed at each 
 other with such a strange look on their faces 
 that Stock and I stood staring at them open- 
 mouthed, wondering what all this mystery was 
 about. 
 
 At length, addressing my mother in his quiet, 
 every-day manner, my father said : " What do 
 you think ? " 
 
 " I think he has a right to know," replied the 
 former, glancing sideways at Stock. 
 
 " Very well. I think so too ; " and turning to 
 my mystified companion he went on : " Stock, 
 this man here " — tapping the photograph with 
 his finger — " this man here is James Latimer 
 White, the cousin of that good friend of yours — 
 and ours — to whom you owe so much : Miss 
 Catherine Seabright. He is the man who ran 
 ofP with her money and left her in poverty 
 when you yourself were a little chap of five." 
 
 For a moment Stock remained silent, and 
 then, in a low voice of unnatural calmness, he 
 said, " That's the man, is it? I wish " 
 
The Face in the Window 199 
 
 He stared straight at the wall, his red face 
 grew redder, his neck swelled, and he shut his 
 great fists in a manner which made me feel very 
 well satisfied that Mr. James Latimer White was 
 not then present. 
 
 But my mother laid her fingers upon the back 
 of his hand and his heat subsided again directly 
 — as it always did. He had a wonderful con- 
 trol of his temper. The only thing in the world, 
 indeed, of which he was afraid was that very 
 thing — his temper. Conscious of his great 
 bodily strength, it scared him to think of the 
 possible consequences if ever it should get the 
 better of him. 
 
 His rigid muscles relaxed as he asked very 
 quietly : " What's to be done, Mrs. Fraser? " 
 
 It was my father who replied. " As far as 
 this man himself is concerned," said he, *' there 
 is nothing to be done. Miss Catherine would 
 never consent to prosecute him. They two were 
 brought up together, and when this heartless 
 fellow disappeared with her money she was far 
 less distressed by her loss than she was by the 
 thought that ' little Jim ' had turned out 
 badly." 
 
 "Just like her," muttered Stock to himself; 
 
200 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 adding aloud, " I understand. No, there is 
 nothing to be done in that direction." 
 
 " But in another direction there is ! " cried 
 my father, with such sudden and unaccountable 
 excitement that we were all taken aback. 
 Striding up and down the room, he muttered to 
 himself, '' No, no. Not twice, Mr. James Lati- 
 mer White. Not twice. Miss Catherine shall 
 be protected this time whether she likes it or 
 not. Ellen ! " — whirling round upon his heel 
 and addressing my mother, we boys being quite 
 lost sight of for the moment — '* Ellen, don't you 
 understand now ? Don't you see why this fel- 
 low took such a risk to lay hands on the copper 
 pot ? Don't you know now who Peral was, and 
 what was the real name of Don Blanco ? " 
 
 But my mother, though evidently thinking 
 hard, slowly shook her head. 
 
 At this my father advanced a step ; his sud- 
 den excitement as suddenly left him ; he be- 
 came once more the quiet, level-headed Scotch- 
 man I was used to, as, placing his hands upon 
 the table and leaning half way across it, he 
 asked : 
 
 " Have you forgotten the old story of Ber- 
 trand White, and his voyage round The Horn ? " 
 
The Face in the Window 201 
 
 My mother looked blankly at him for a 
 moment, and then the light of remembrance 
 flashed into her face. 
 
 " Of course ! " she cried. '* Of course ! That 
 accounts for it all ! " 
 
 For a moment they remained gazing at each 
 other, oblivious of Stock and me, when my 
 father said : " It is a most extraordinary co- 
 incidence that the copper pot, the only 'docu- 
 ment ' relating to the matter as far as we know, 
 should be here in this house," 
 
 " Yes. Though it is equally remarkable, I 
 think, that we should owe the solution of the 
 mystery to this ' Mr. Latimer ' himself. If he 
 had not, in his eagerness to get hold of the 
 copper pot, ransacked the cabin, I should not 
 have caught his face in the window, and with- 
 out it we might have remained in the dark 
 indefinitely. What do you propose to do? 
 Investigate, I suppose. Will you go yourself 
 or send the boys ? " 
 
 " Send the boys. I can't go myself till the 
 wool is sold, and as the matter may be of great 
 importance to Miss Catherine we must not de- 
 lay, so I shall send the boys." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
20 2 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 It was I who broke in upon them with this 
 question, unable to contain myself any longer. 
 At the sound of my voice my parents seemed 
 to wake up, and my father with a laugh, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Why, Jamie, I'd forgotten all about you ! 
 Where ? Why, over into the Obispo Valley to 
 interview the good padre. But sit down and 
 I'll tell you the whole story. You are old 
 enough to be trusted with it, and Stock, at any 
 rate, has a right to know. Sit down." 
 
 Needless to say, we sat down promptly and 
 listened with all our ears while my father re- 
 lated to us the following tale : 
 
 " In the early ' forties,' " he began, " before 
 the war with Mexico, there lived in Boston a 
 young man named Bertrand White. He was 
 rather a rolling stone, and one day he surprised 
 his friends by starting off in a sailing ship on a 
 voyage round The Horn, bound for California. 
 But he never reached California, for at some 
 port on the western coast of Mexico he left his 
 ship and disappeared into the interior. 
 
 " For several years nothing was heard of him, 
 but eventually he turned up again in Boston. 
 Regarding his adventures while absent he was 
 
The Face in the Window 203 
 
 disposed to be reticent, but in his family circle 
 he used to tell this story : He had wandered 
 a long way northward and in some remote 
 Mexican village had fallen in with a Spanish 
 gentleman, by name Peral, with whom he had 
 become great friends. He and Peral appear to 
 have discovered a remarkable deposit of gold in 
 the neighboring mountains. This gold they 
 laboriously collected, but being unable to re- 
 move it at the moment they stowed it away in 
 some hiding-place known only to themselves, 
 and when presently the opportunity to remove 
 it did occur, White was unable to go — he had 
 hurt himself somehow — so Peral went by him- 
 self. He never came back. 
 
 " It was supposed that he was killed by the 
 Indians, who at that moment made one of their 
 periodical raids upon the valley. For months 
 thereafter the harried Mexicans tilled their 
 fields in terror ; day and night sentinels kept 
 watch upon the flat roofs of the adobe houses ; 
 and as to going off to look for Peral, no bribe 
 would induce them to think of such a thing for 
 a moment. White himself made two or three 
 attempts, but he was always driven back, and 
 eventually, a company of Mexican soldiers 
 
204 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 passing through on their way to Santa Fe, he 
 joined them, and in the end made his way back 
 to Boston, determined that no temptation should 
 ever persuade him to face such dangers again." 
 
 " That is a very interesting story," said Stock. 
 " But it seems to me that it misses connection 
 in one particular. The name of Bertrand 
 White does not appear upon the copper pot ; 
 the message is addressed to * Don Blanco at 
 Obispo.' " 
 
 " And what," asked my mother, smiling, 
 " what does the Spanish word ' bianco ' mean in 
 English ? " 
 
 Stock slapped his knee. " I see," he cried. 
 " When Bertrand White went to live among the 
 Mexicans he just translated his name into 
 Spanish for the convenience of his neighbors, 
 and instead of ' Mr. White ' he became ' Don 
 Blanco.' " 
 
 "That is my supposition. ''As ' bianco ' in 
 Spanish means ' white ' in English it was a very 
 natural and simple change to make ; and it is 
 reasonable to suppose that this poor man, Peral, 
 finding himself badly wounded, scratched on 
 the copper pot a message to his friend Don 
 ' White' assuring him that the gold ' remained ' 
 
The Face in the Window 205 
 
 in its old hiding-place ' behind the Harp- 
 strings.' " 
 
 " I see," said Stock again, nodding his head. 
 " Yes, that seems to be all straight. But where 
 does Aunt Catherine come in, Mr. Fraser ? Why 
 should she be especially concerned? " 
 
 " Because this treasure, if there is such a 
 thing, is hers and hers alone. When Bertrand 
 White died his only surviving relatives were a 
 niece and a nephew, his sister's daughter, Cath- 
 erine, and his brother's son, James Latimer. To 
 his niece, little Catherine Seabright, he left by 
 will everything he possessed, including, of course, 
 this more-or-less mythical treasure." 
 
 " I see," said Stock, for the third time. " And 
 this Mr. Latimer, or James Latimer White, as 
 one of the family, is familiar with the story of 
 his uncle's adventure." 
 
 " No doubt. And I have no doubt either that 
 the story of old Sandoval finding the copper pot 
 with Peral's name upon it is well known among 
 the older generation of Mexicans in the valley ; 
 in this way Mr, Latimer might very well get to 
 hear of it, and hearing, too, perhaps, that the 
 pot is inscribed with some mysterious writing 
 which none but the good padre can understand, 
 
2o6 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 he has jumped at the conclusion that it gives 
 the clue to the hiding-place of the treasure." 
 
 " That's it, I expect," assented Stock. 
 
 " Now," said my father, " this gold may have 
 been much or it may have been little ; it may 
 still remain ' behind the Harpstrings ' or it may 
 not. But at least we owe it to Miss Catherine 
 to find out what we can about it, and so I pro- 
 pose to send you two, with little Hidalgo as a 
 guide, into the Obispo valley, where you will 
 repeat this story to the good padre and ask him 
 to give you all the information he can. Or- 
 dinarily, I should never think of letting you go 
 off on a ' treasure-hunt,' but this case is peculiar ; 
 I regard it as our duty — Stock's duty in par- 
 ticular — not to neglect a possible chance of doing 
 a good turn to the friend to whom he is so 
 deeply indebted. You agree with me, Stock, 
 of course." 
 
 '' Most certainly, sir. When may we start?" 
 
 " As soon as shearing is over." 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 The Good Padke 
 
 TT was in the third week of June, the shearing 
 -*■ being now off our hands, that Stock, Hidalgo 
 and I rode out of the corral one morning and 
 turned our horses' heads in the direction of the 
 Obispo pass. 
 
 The Obispo pass, the only one in the range for 
 fifty miles north or south, was so high, so steep 
 and so rough that it was impracticable for 
 wagons ; only men on foot or men on horseback 
 could cross it. As a consequence, to dwellers 
 on the eastern side of the great mountain barrier 
 the little Obispo valley was an almost unknown 
 country. There for generation after generation, 
 had dwelt the two primitive communities of 
 Mexicans, the one at Casa Grande and the other 
 at Obispo ; the only white men in the whole 
 valley being the good padre and Mr. Latimer. 
 
 About the middle of our second day out, after 
 
 a climb so laborious that several times we had 
 
 to dismount and lead our horses. Stock and I 
 
 caught our first glimpse of this new land from 
 
 207 
 
2o8 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 the top of the pass. At once our attention was 
 attracted by a remarkable feature of the land- 
 scape — two of them, in fact. 
 
 The Trinity range at this point makes a great 
 bend to the southwest, and in the angle thus 
 formed there lies a miniature desert known 
 locally as the Dead Sea ; a sea whose mountain- 
 ous waves are not of water but of sand. This 
 stretch of sand must be, I should think, the 
 most barren spot of ground in the United States ; 
 indeed no spot of ground in this or any other 
 country could be more barren, for no tree, no 
 shrub, no blade of grass grows upon it. The 
 reason is that its light, loose surface is con- 
 tinually shifting. The wind, deflected into that 
 corner by the trend of the great mountain chain, 
 is forever scooping out the " waves," tearing 
 them down and piling them up again. On the 
 calmest day there may always be seen from half 
 a dozen to a score of little spiral columns of sand 
 scurrying hither and thither in a fussy, purpose- 
 less manner, like distracted ants ; growing big- 
 ger and bigger, then suddenly collapsing, then 
 appearing again at another point, bustling off 
 in a new direction, jostling with another one 
 and collapsing once more. 
 
The Good Padre 209 
 
 So well understood is the dangerous, treacher- 
 ous character of this Dead Sea that no inhabit- 
 ant of the valley ever thinks of attempting to 
 cross it ; for a sudden wind — and all the winds 
 there are sudden — will lift up and change its 
 whole surface, when, woe ! to any unfortunate 
 caught in its toils : he will almost certainly 
 perish, blinded, smothered and buried by the 
 driving sand-clouds. 
 
 " So that's the Dead Sea, is it ? " said Stock, 
 as we sat on the grass eating our lunch and look- 
 ing about us. " I feel quite like a discoverer. I 
 feel like what's-his-name — Balboa — when he 
 climbed the mountains on the Isthmus and 
 looked out over the Pacific. But what is that 
 great red rock sticking up out of the sand near 
 the northern ' shore,' Hidalgo ? " 
 
 " That is the Giant's Castle, senor," replied 
 our guide. 
 
 " The Giant's Castle, eh ! A good name. It 
 is an extraordinary place. Looks just as though 
 it had been built by gigantic human hands." 
 
 It was indeed an extraordinary place. Cover- 
 ing perhaps an area of fifty acres, the solitary 
 butte rose abruptly out of the sand, its perpen- 
 dicular walls so carved and sculptured by the 
 
2IO Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 storms and frosts of centuries, and still more by 
 the unceasing sand-blasts, that one might easily 
 deceive himself into the belief that its turrets, 
 battlements and gateways had been laid up stone 
 by stone, until, bethinking himself, he recog- 
 nized the fact that the tallest points were at least 
 a thousand feet high, while the most notable of 
 the great arches was of such dimensions that a 
 good-sized church might have been planted in- 
 side it with room to spare. 
 
 " It is certainly a wonderful place," said I. 
 " You've been into it, I suppose, Hidalgo ? " 
 
 " No, sir," replied the boy with an uneasy 
 smile, '' I have not been there ; nobody have 
 been there. Only my grandfather, he is there 
 one time and he come away very quick." 
 
 " Why ? What was the matter ? Was he 
 afraid of something? " 
 
 *' Yes, sir, he was very much afeared." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Senor, he hear voices, many voices. The 
 place it is full of voices." 
 
 " Echoes, of course," said I. But Hidalgo 
 only shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say, 
 "Who knows?" 
 
 " Maybe it's ghosts," suggested Stock. " The 
 
The Good Padre 211 
 
 place looks like an old dead city, and it ought 
 to be full of ghosts. Eh, Hidalgo ? " 
 
 To our surprise, Hidalgo took the remark 
 quite seriously. " I think yes," he replied. 
 
 " Why that's fine ! " cried Stock. '' If we can 
 manage it, we'll get in there some day and rout 
 'em out. You shall come with us, Hidalgo." 
 
 The boy said nothing, but he looked as though 
 he did not think it would be much of a treat. 
 It was evident that our little friend was not alto- 
 gether free from superstition. 
 
 " Well, never mind your ghosts just now," 
 said I. " What we have to do at present is to 
 take a lesson in geography. Now, that little 
 town three thousand feet below us here in the 
 mouth of the pass is Casa Grande, I suppose ; 
 and what is that big building three or four miles 
 farther to the west, Hidalgo ? " 
 
 " That is Mr. Latimer's house, senor. The 
 road go through Casa Grande and past Mr. Lat- 
 imer's house, and so round the sand-hills to 
 Obispo. But we do not go that way ; we go 
 this way " — pointing to the right — " round be- 
 hind the castle ; and then Mr. Latimer shall 
 not know we are come." 
 
 " Good idea," said Stock. " That is Obispo 
 
2 1 2 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 over there, I suppose," indicating a collection of 
 whitewashed adobe houses set in a little green 
 oasis some distance beyond the northwestern 
 limits of the sand-hills. " How far off is it? " 
 
 " About ten mile, senor." 
 
 " Can we make it to-night ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, senor. We cannot go across the 
 sand-hills, it is too riskful ; no one ever go 
 across the sand-hills ; and the way we go, over 
 the foothills, round behind the castle, is twenty 
 mile. It is good if we go now, for the way it is 
 hard and rough." 
 
 Hard and rough it proved, for the encroach- 
 ing sand-waves forced us high up on the moun- 
 tain spurs. Our progress was slow in conse- 
 quence, but towards sunset we arrived at a point 
 whence we could look down into the Giant's 
 Castle — and an interesting place it was. The 
 bright-red rock composing it was evidently of 
 varying hardness, the softer parts having been 
 blown and washed out, leaving the harder shell 
 scooped and carved into every conceivable 
 shape ; a labyrinth of caves, pits and passages. 
 We longed to be into it, exploring its mysterious 
 intricacies. 
 
 By sunrise next morning we were under way 
 
The Good Padre 213 
 
 once more, when, descending from the foothills, 
 we passed along under the northern wall of the 
 castle, whose towering battlements rose high 
 above our heads. 
 
 " There's no getting in on this side," remarked 
 Stock, as he gazed aloft. '* Do you notice, Jamie, 
 that there are no ' doors ' and * windows ' here 
 as there are on the south side ? How do you ac- 
 count for that? " 
 
 " I expect," said I, " that the carving and 
 sculpturing we saw on the southern face of the 
 rock are due chiefly to the sand-blasts, and as 
 there is no sand to speak of on this side the 
 northern wall is not pitted with holes like the 
 other. Perhaps, too, the rock is harder." 
 
 " Very likely," Stock assented. '' Hallo ! " he 
 presently exclaimed, as we rounded the north- 
 west angle of the castle. " Look at all these trees ! 
 Who would have expected to see trees growing 
 in such a sandy waste ? Where do they get their 
 water from, Hidalgo ? " 
 
 " From Obispo Creek, seiior," replied the boy, 
 smiling. 
 
 " From Obispo Creek ! Where is Obispo 
 Creek? I don't see it." 
 
 " It is under our foot, sefior. Look-see," 
 
214 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 pointing back to the castle, in whose western 
 front, as we now perceived, was an immense 
 crack extending from top to bottom. " The 
 creek come out of that crack ; it sink under the 
 sand and come to the top again at the village." 
 
 " Ah ! 1 see. And these trees send their 
 roots down to the water. Well, that is conve- 
 nient for us : we shall have a shady ride for the 
 rest of our journey." 
 
 In half an hour more, while still about a mile 
 from our destination, we caught sight of the vil- 
 lage through the trees, when Hidalgo, who in his 
 eagerness to reach home had been all the time 
 forging to the front, exclaimed eagerly : 
 
 '* Seiior, I see the good padre ! May I go ? " 
 
 " Yes, cut along," replied Stock ; adding, as 
 the boy went off like an arrow from the bow, 
 " What eyes the little chap must have ! Think 
 of distinguishing one man from another at such 
 a distance ! " 
 
 For ourselves, we jogged along at a more 
 reasonable pace, until presently, at the entrance 
 of the little village street we saw Hidalgo and 
 the padre coming towards us. Alighting from 
 our horses, we advanced to meet them. 
 
 It was with the greatest interest that we gazed 
 
ALIGHTING FROM OUR HORSES, WE ADVANCED TO MEET THEM 
 
The Good Padre 215 
 
 upon the " good padre," of whom we had heard 
 so often from our Mexicans. He was a small, 
 thin old man, somewhat bowed, his face clean- 
 shaven, and his scanty hair perfectly white. As 
 he advanced, leaning with one hand on his stick 
 and the other upon the shoulder of the beaming 
 Hidalgo, we noted the kindly expression of his 
 gray eyes and the humorous curve at the corners 
 of his mouth, and we " took to him " on the spot. 
 We could understand, we thought, why all our 
 herders should be unanimous in declaring that 
 there was " no one like the good padre." 
 
 " Welcome, boys ! " cried the old gentleman, 
 extending his hand. " Welcome to Obispo ! It 
 is a great pleasure to meet at last some members 
 of the family of my old friend, Mr. Fraser." 
 
 " It is a great pleasure to us, too, sir," said I. 
 ** And before I forget it, let me say that my 
 father told me to be sure to thank you the very 
 first thing for your courtesy and promptness in 
 sending him herders whenever he has asked for 
 them." 
 
 " Your father has himself to thank for that," 
 replied the padre. " He has uniformly treated 
 them with fairness and consideration. That was 
 a kindly thought of his, too, to let me know how 
 
21 6 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 well this child had behaved during the great 
 snow-storm. You did well, my son," addressing 
 Hidalgo in Spanish. " I am much pleased with 
 you." 
 
 The little Mexican's face fairly glowed at this 
 praise from his beloved padre. It was delightful 
 to note the affection with which he regarded his 
 old friend and mentor. 
 
 " But, bless me ! " cried the padre, presently. 
 '' What am I thinking of, keeping you standing 
 here in the street all this time, when, of course, 
 you are hungry ! Come at once to my house ; 
 you must have some refreshment after your 
 ride." 
 
 Leaving Hidalgo to care for the horses, we 
 followed our host down the street, and passing 
 into a little flower-garden fenced with cactus, 
 we walked up the pathway to the door of a neat, 
 whitewashed house. 
 
 '* Enter," said he ; and we went in. 
 
 The padre's sitting-room was of fair size, 
 dimly lighted by one little window placed high 
 in the wall. An arched fireplace occupied one 
 corner, while the usual adobe bench, covered 
 with rugs of bright colors, ran along one side of 
 the room. In these respects it was much like 
 
The Good Padre 217 
 
 any other house in the village ; but there were 
 besides several comfortable chairs, a table or 
 two, a few ornaments, and, what distinguished 
 it far more than anything else, many well-worn 
 books in English, French, Spanish and Latin. 
 
 As soon as we were seated, I took out of my 
 pocket a note written by my father, which I 
 handed to the padre. The polite old gentleman, 
 with a " By your leave " and a slight bow to 
 each of us, opened and read it. 
 
 " It is not very long," said he. " In fact, your 
 father merely says that you have a story to tell 
 me and that he vouches for its correctness. If 
 it suits your convenience it might be well to tell 
 me all about it at once." 
 
 It did suit our convenience, and while the 
 padre sat listening attentively, I related to him 
 the whole story, beginning with Bertrand 
 White's voyage round The Horn and ending 
 with Mr. Latimer's raid upon the herders' cabin 
 and our discovery of his identity. 
 
 " That is certainly a curious and interesting 
 story," said the old gentleman when I had fin- 
 ished. " I have no doubt that your father's 
 surmise is correct, and that Bertrand White and 
 Don Blanco are one and the same person ; the 
 
21 8 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 more so as Mr. Latimer himself has told me a 
 somewhat similar story, the main difference 
 being that he omitted all mention of Miss Sea- 
 bright and claimed himself to be the heir of 
 Bertrand White." 
 
 '* Did he ! " exclaimed Stock. '' He's a — 
 well, he's an ingenious rascal, to say the least. 
 And you didn't believe him, sir? " 
 
 " No. I distrusted him. I know him too 
 well. He is a scholar and to all appearance a 
 gentleman ; I was much pleased when first he 
 came into the valley to think that I was to have 
 so refined and pleasant a neighbor ; but soon I 
 began to hear unpleasant stories about him, 
 small things, but all tending to show him up as 
 a shifty, untrustworthy character, and so we 
 gradually fell apart; for several years past we 
 have seldom held any communication. It was 
 about a year ago that he seems to have heard of 
 the finding of the copper pot by old Sandoval, 
 and since then he has been untiring in his 
 efforts to get hold of it." 
 
 " Where was the pot found, sir? " I asked. 
 
 " In the Giant's Castle — but here comes your 
 refreshment at last. Sit down and help your- 
 selves." 
 
The Good Padre 219 
 
 The table was laid by a neat white-haired old 
 Mexican woman, and while Stock and I sat 
 there making ruinous inroads into the padre's 
 provisions — for, early though it was, we were as 
 hungry as boys always seem to be — our host 
 himself, seated in his easy-chair, related to us 
 all he knew of Don Blanco, Peral and the gold 
 behind the Harpstrings. 
 
 " Peral was dead," said he, in conclusion, 
 '' and Bertrand White had returned to his own 
 country before I came here, and though their 
 story Avas well known in the village, I might 
 have forgotten all about it but for the discovery 
 of Peral's body with the copper pot attached 
 to it. 
 
 "Sandoval, who was a noted hunter, was 
 caught one day, high up in the mountains, by a 
 tremendous snow-storm. In making his way 
 back he somehow got into the Giant's Castle — 
 presumably he walked in blindly over some 
 huge drift of sand and snow which the winds 
 afterwards tore down and dissipated. It was in 
 one of the many caverns there that he came 
 upon Peral's body. For two days and nights, 
 completely lost, he wandered about inside the 
 castle, but at last he found his way out and 
 
220 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 reached his home, half starved, half frozen and 
 wholly terrified. How he got into the castle 
 and how he got out again he never could tell ; 
 all he did know for certain was that the place 
 was full of ' voices,' as he declared ; a story 
 which, I need hardly add, enhanced its already 
 sinister reputation." 
 
 " And then," commented Stock, " after twenty 
 years or so, along comes Mr. Latimer, hears of 
 the copper pot, and demands that it be handed 
 over to him as the heir of Bertrand White." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " Well, after the non-success of his raid on the 
 cabin I should think he would give it up." 
 
 To our surprise, the good padre's face assumed 
 an anxious, worried expression as, shaking his 
 head, he replied : 
 
 ** By no means. He has made a new move 
 since then, and one which no one else would 
 have thought of. He is truly, as you remarked 
 just now, an ingenious rascal. As a matter of 
 fact, my dear boys, we are in great distress 
 here." 
 
 " Why, what's the matter, sir ? " 
 
 " A serious disaster has fallen upon us : 
 Obispo Creek has ceased to run ! " 
 
The Good Padre 221 
 
 Stock raised his eyebrows and puckered up 
 his mouth as though he were going to whistle, 
 but he only said, inquiringly, " Mr, Lat- 
 imer?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Latimer. He has turned the 
 stream at its source and it is now running to 
 waste among the sands of the Dead Sea." 
 
 '' But why, sir? What's his object? I don't 
 understand." 
 
 " Nevertheless it is very clear," replied the 
 padre. *' His object is to get from me the secret 
 of the copper pot, and he thinks that by cutting 
 off our water-supply he can force me to give 
 it up." 
 
 " I understand," said Stock. " Mr. Latimer, 
 of course, knows very well that without water 
 for irrigation the people of Obispo must either 
 starve or leave." 
 
 " Precisely," replied the padre. " And know- 
 ing that, he feels well assured that I must 
 eventually give in." 
 
 " But why, sir," I asked, " why does not 
 somebody go and turn the water back again ? " 
 
 The padre smiled. '' That is just where Mr. 
 Latimer has shown his cleverness," he replied. 
 " The source of Obispo Creek is a powerful 
 
222 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 spring which bursts out somewhere inside the 
 Giant's Castle, and Mr. Latimer is perfectly well 
 aware that there is not a Mexican in the valley 
 who dare go in there — the place has too evil a 
 reputation as the haunt of uneasy spirits." 
 
 " Well," remarked Stock, after a long and 
 thoughtful pause, " it seems plain that the first 
 thing to be done is to turn back the water. 
 Don't you think so, sir ? " 
 
 " That is what I should wish," replied the 
 padre. " The discovery of the treasure is, with- 
 out doubt, a matter of importance, but the 
 restoration of the water is one of necessity : the 
 crops are already beginning to suffer." 
 
 " Yes," said Stock, nodding his head half a 
 dozen times, " yes, the water is the first thing. 
 And I can tell you, sir, that nobody would be 
 so quick to say so as my friend. Miss Seabright. 
 If she were here, she would order me to turn 
 back the stream at once, even if it meant the 
 loss of a fortune." 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed the old man. " She is 
 good, this lady." 
 
 " * Good ' is the word," Stock answered, 
 briefly and emphatically. " And there's an- 
 other thing I can tell you, sir," he went on, 
 
The Good Padre 223 
 
 looking to me for confirmation : '' if we two 
 fellows can get back that water, we'll get it." 
 
 " Ah ! " cried the padre, his face lighting up 
 and the anxious expression passing away like a 
 shadow. " How fortunate I am to have found 
 such friends. For ' friends ' is the word, is it 
 not?" 
 
 He said this so nicely and kindly that Stock 
 and I, by one impulse, took a step forward and 
 thrust out our hands. Smilingly the little padre 
 grasped them. 
 
 " So it is ' friends,' " said he. 
 
 " If you please, sir," said Stock ; and, " By 
 your leave, sir," said I. 
 
 And thus heartily and with mutual good will 
 began this odd partnership between us two 
 American boys and the little old Irish padre of 
 Obispo. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Into the Giant's Castle 
 
 IT was very gratifying to Stock and me to ob- 
 serve that our new friend, the padre, never 
 for a moment doubted the truth of our story, 
 but on the contrary, readily gave us all the 
 information in his power, answering all our 
 many questions without hesitation. 
 
 The information he could give us, however, 
 did not amount to very much beyond the fact 
 that the copper pot had been found in the 
 castle. To my question as to whether he knew 
 what " the Harpstrings " meant, he replied : 
 
 " I do not. Whether it is some peculiar for- 
 mation of rock, or what it is, I have no idea." 
 
 " And do you think, sir, that there really is 
 such a thing as a buried treasure ? " I asked. 
 
 " I feel sure of it. There can be hardly a 
 doubt that Peral and Don Blanco did hide away 
 a treasure of more or less value somewhere, and 
 it is even more certain that it could not have 
 been since discovered without my hearing of it. 
 224 
 
Into the Giant's Castle 225 
 
 From the fact also that Peral's body was found 
 there, and that the place is of itself a most likely 
 one for the purpose, I feel convinced that the 
 hiding-place is somewhere inside the Giant's 
 Castle." 
 
 "Then," said Stock, "the first thing to be 
 done is to get into the castle." 
 
 In this conclusion we were all agreed, decid- 
 ing after some further discussion, that before at- 
 tempting to fix upon any systematic course of 
 action it would be well to make a preliminary 
 survey of the ground. 
 
 Early next morning, therefore, we set out, in 
 due course arriving before the west front of the 
 castle at the point where, through the great 
 cleft in the wall, there issued a driblet of water 
 — all that was left of the once impetuous Obispo 
 Creek. 
 
 " Well, Hidalgo," said Stock, " do you want 
 to stay with the horses, or will you come with 
 us into the castle ? " 
 
 " I come with you, sir," replied the boy. 
 
 " Good ! You are not afraid, then ? " 
 
 Hidalgo hesitated, as though he found it dif- 
 ficult to explain, but at length he said, " I am 
 afeared, senor, a good deal ; but I look and I see 
 
226 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 you are not afeared ; and the good padre he say 
 to me, ' Do not be afeared/ and so I will not be 
 any more fearful than I can help myself, and I 
 will come with you." 
 
 " Come on, then ! " cried Stock ; and without 
 further parley we entered the crevice. 
 
 Our idea was that we would walk up the 
 nearly-dry bed of the stream to the point where 
 it had been " switched off," when, having ascer- 
 tained what means had been used to turn the 
 flow, we could decide what other means were 
 necessary to turn it back again. This course, 
 however, we very soon found to be less simple in 
 practice than it was in theory. 
 
 The castle wall was, I take it, the thickest 
 castle wall in existence, for we advanced along 
 the bottom of the deep and narrow crevice for a 
 hundred yards or more ere we emerged into a 
 great circular basin, whose sides, scoured smooth 
 by the eddying, sand-laden winds, rose perpen- 
 dicularly to a height of two hundred feet. 
 Projecting from the wall, some forty feet above 
 the bottom, was a ledge or shelf of harder rock 
 which ran round the whole circumference of the 
 basin, while forty feet higher still was a second 
 ledge, the counterpart of the first, except that it 
 
Into the Giant's Castle 227 
 
 was two or three times as wide. Immediately 
 above this upper "balcony," exactly opposite to 
 where we stood, was a large, dark hole in the 
 wall, and out of this hole came the little stream. 
 
 This curious basin, which we then and there 
 dubbed " The Giant's Soup Kettle," we exam- 
 ined with minute care, reaching the conclusion 
 that there was no possible way of getting in or 
 out except along the creek-bed. 
 
 "Therefore," said Stock, "as we can't walk 
 up the old bed of the creek, we must find the 
 new bed and walk up that." 
 
 Accordingly we retraced our steps along the 
 crevice, and turning to the left made our way 
 along the southern face of the castle, very much 
 impeded by the immense drifts of light, loose 
 sand, which, on this side, were piled fifty and a 
 hundred feet high against the wall, extending 
 in long ridges out into the Dead Sea. At 
 length, after a most laborious walk of an hour 
 or more, on scrambling to the top of one of these 
 ridges, we saw below us a fine, big stream of 
 water, which, rushing out through a large arched 
 hole in the castle wall, was promptly swallowed 
 up by the thirsty sand. 
 
 Sliding down the further side of this ridge, we 
 
2 28 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 entered the archway, but hardly had we set foot 
 inside when Hidalgo startled us by exclaiming, 
 " Look, senores ! Mr. Latimer and his man, 
 Aaron ! " 
 
 We glanced hastily around, but seeing no one, 
 we turned to Hidalgo for an explanation. He 
 was pointing to the ground, and there in the 
 damp sand we observed two footprints, one long, 
 slim and neat, the other of immense proportions 
 — " big as a bear's," as Stock put it. 
 
 " How do you know it is Mr. Latimer and his 
 man ? " I asked. 
 
 " Because, sir, the Mexicans they will not 
 come in here ; there is only three men in the 
 valley who will not be afeared to come in here. 
 One is Mr. Latimer — this is him I am almost- 
 yes-quite sure — and one is Aaron. He is a 
 negro man, very big and very heavy — see how 
 his foot sink in. He is to Mr. Latimer his head 
 vaquero, his boss cow-man." 
 
 " But who is the third man who would not be 
 afraid to come in ? I don't see any more tracks." 
 
 " The third man do not leave any tracks," 
 replied Hidalgo. " He is an Indian. He is boss 
 of Mr. Latimer's sheep-herders. He is little — 
 not any more big than me— but he is old and 
 
Into the Giant's Castle 229 
 
 wise and full of tricks. He is called ' Gray 
 Fox.' I am afeared of The Fox, and if we shall 
 — how do you say ? — ' run up against him,' then 
 we must keep open very wide all our eyes ; we 
 must mind our O, P, Q's." 
 
 Hidalgo brought out his version of the familiar 
 saying so seriously that we carefully refrained 
 from smiling, and Stock, though his face 
 twitched, replied gravely : 
 
 " Then we'll keep a sharp lookout for The Fox, 
 Hidalgo. Come on, let's go in." 
 
 We found little difficulty in following the 
 passage, which was wide and high and sufficiently 
 light to allow us to dispense with the use of 
 candles, of which we had brought several. It was 
 decidedly up hill all the way, however, the ascent 
 increasing in steepness so rapidly that at length 
 we were obliged to use our hands. At this point, 
 looking upward, we could see daylight above 
 our heads, and after a smart scramble, we 
 emerged from the passage to find ourselves 
 standing in a sort of high-walled courtyard, from 
 the upper end of which the stream came flying 
 down towards us, spread out thinly over the 
 smooth stone floor. 
 
 Splashing through the water, we soon reached 
 
230 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 the upper end of the " courtyard," and there we 
 at once discovered the means used by Mr. 
 Latimer to divert the stream. It was a simple 
 and effective expedient. 
 
 The floor of the " courtyard " was shaped like 
 the back of a spoon, and at the highest point, 
 fed by a powerful spring, was a circular pool, 
 whose sides were very nearly, but not quite, of 
 equal height. If left to itself, the water would 
 have run out on the right-hand side ; but here 
 Mr. Latimer had interfered by filling a number 
 of sacks with sand and laying them along the 
 lower side of the pool. This caused the water to 
 rise very nearly to the top of the sand-bags, but 
 before it could rise quite high enough to over- 
 flow them it found it could get out on the op- 
 posite side, which of course it did, running off" 
 to waste among the sand-hills. 
 
 " It won't be much of a job to turn the stream 
 back again," remarked Stock. '' All we have to 
 do is to pitch these sacks of sand into the pool 
 and away she goes. Shall we do it at once ? 
 The padre would be delighted to see the water 
 come back so soon." 
 
 " I think we ought to explore further first," 
 said I. " For one thing, if we could discover a 
 
Into the Giant's Castle 231 
 
 second way in and out of this place it might be 
 very convenient. If Mr. Latimer should find 
 out what we are up to, he could easily box us up 
 here by stationing his friend, Br'er Fox, in the 
 passage with a gun in his hands. I don't know 
 whether he would do such a thing, but he could 
 if he liked." 
 
 " That's true," Stock assented. " And there's 
 another thing to be considered before we turn the 
 water : I think it is very likely that Mr. 
 Latimer, from the roof of his house , may be 
 able to see the stream where it runs out down 
 below here, and if he should miss the flash of 
 the water, of course he would come right over to 
 investigate." 
 
 " Not a doubt of it," said I. " And our diffi- 
 culties in making our search for Don Blanco's 
 hoard would be immediately increased a hun- 
 dred-fold." 
 
 " Senores," said Hidalgo, " with your leave I 
 think in my head one thing." 
 
 *' What's that, Hidalgo? " asked Stock. 
 
 " I think, seiior, it is good if we find first this 
 gold of Don Blanco — if we can " 
 
 " An important ' if,' " Stock interrupted, 
 laughing. '' Well ? " 
 
232 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 " It is good if we find this gold and take it 
 away. Then the good padre he will write to 
 Mr. Latimer one little letter, and he will say, 
 * Do not any more bother yourself : the gold it is 
 gone ' ; and Mr. Latimer, then he will not any 
 more trouble the good padre. No ? " 
 
 " There's something in that," remarked Stock. 
 " And so, Jamie, taking it all round, I think the 
 padre would not object to our doing a little ex- 
 ploring first, especially as we know now that we 
 can ' turn on ' the water at any moment." 
 
 " All right," said I. " And I vote we first 
 follow down the old bed of the creek and see if 
 there is anything to be gained by that." 
 
 The diminutive stream formed by the water 
 which squeezed its way between Mr. Latimer's 
 sand-bags, ran straight across the " courtyard " 
 until it came against the northern wall, when, 
 turning short to the left, it went scurrying along 
 close under the wall, popped round a corner and 
 disappeared. Following its crooked course for 
 some distance as it dodged hither and thither 
 like a scared rabbit — our clattering shoes awaken- 
 ing ten thousand echoes as we did so — we pres- 
 ently entered a wide, low-roofed archway, in the 
 soft sandstone floor of which the stream had cut 
 
Into the Giant's Castle 233 
 
 for itself a deep groove, thus enabling us to walk 
 dry-shod beside it. Down this passage we went 
 until it became so dark that we were obliged to 
 light our candles. Nor did we do so a minute 
 too soon, for a few steps farther on we came 
 upon a steep, narrow, smooth- worn descent down 
 which the water went flying. 
 
 " Hold up ! " cried Stock, throwing himself 
 back against Hidalgo who was just behind 
 him. 
 
 " What's the matter? " I asked ; for being the 
 last one I could not see. " Have we come to a 
 jumping-ofF place ? " 
 
 '' Pretty nearly," Stock replied. " But we can 
 get down if we go carefully. It is quite light at 
 the bottom ; we must be near the end of the 
 passage. You wait here till I'm down." 
 
 Blowing out his candle, which he no longer 
 needed. Stock stepped over the rim and cau- 
 tiously descended the steep slope, holding on to 
 the sides wherever he could find anything to 
 hold on by. In spite of all his care, however, 
 his feet presently slipped from under him and 
 down he went like a flash, getting pretty wet, 
 but being otherwise unhurt. 
 
 I was preparing to follow, when he looked up 
 
2 34 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 and cried : " Don't come down yet, Jamie : it's 
 dangerous." 
 
 "Why is it dangerous?" I asked, in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " I mean it is dangerous for all three of us to 
 be down here together. Suppose, by some ac- 
 cident, the water should break through those 
 sacks up above there : no mortal man could 
 climb up this slope with the whole stream com- 
 ing down. We should be caught ; and no one 
 would know where we were." 
 
 " Come up ! " I cried, alarmed at the sug- 
 gestion. " Come back at once." 
 
 " Wait a bit," Stock replied. " It's all right 
 as long as two of j^ou are up there : you could 
 turn the water again if it should break loose ; it 
 is only taking too big a risk for all of us to be 
 down at once. You just stay where you are, if 
 you don't mind, while I go ahead and see where 
 we've come to." 
 
 '' All right," said I. '' But be quick." 
 
 At this Stock vanished ; but in two seconds 
 he was back again. 
 
 " Jamie," said he, " there's a cave here, a big 
 one, a whopping big one ; I can't see the roof, 
 it's so high. There's a good-sized archway at 
 
Into the Giant's Castle 235 
 
 the far end where the daylight comes in and the 
 stream runs out. Just wait another couple of 
 minutes while I skip out there." 
 
 He was soon back once more, and looking up 
 at us, he said, with some excitement, " Where 
 do you think we've come out, Jamie? " 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " In the Soup Kettle ! " 
 
 "In the Soup Kettle?" 
 
 " Yes. You remember when we were in there 
 just now we could see a hole in the wall just 
 above the upper balcony ? Well, this hole here 
 at the end of the cave is that hole. The stream 
 runs out there and falls off the balcony into the 
 Soup Kettle." 
 
 " Come on up, then," said I ; for I felt uneasy as 
 long as he remained at the bottom of the slope. 
 " There's no way of getting down from the bal- 
 cony — we know that — so we may as well go 
 back." 
 
 " I suppose so, but Look here, Jamie, I'll 
 
 tell you what I wish you'd do : I wish you and 
 Hidalgo would go back and stand guard over 
 those sand-bags while I go and make a tour of 
 the balcony. There's no way of getting down, 
 but it is just possible there may be some way of 
 
236 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 getting up, and I should Hke to make sure be- 
 fore we give it up altogether." 
 
 I did not half like this idea, but Stock was so 
 anxious to go that at last I consented. 
 
 " All right, then," said I, " go ahead ; but 
 don't be any longer than you can help." 
 
 Hidalgo and I therefore hurried back, going 
 up-stream much more quickly than we had 
 come down ; for being able in a dozen places to 
 cut across the bends, we made a great saving 
 both in time and distance. 
 
 No sooner had we reached the spring than 
 Hidalgo, turning to me, said, " Seiior, if you 
 say * yes,' I go to the top of the passage where 
 we come in, and I take in my hand one big 
 rock, and if any one come up, I say, ' Stop ! 
 Mind you your eye, or I biff you one dreadful 
 smash with this rock.' " 
 
 " All right, Hidalgo," I replied, laughing, 
 " you can go and stand guard there if you like ; 
 but don't go biffing anybody ; we don't w^ant 
 anything of that sort — the good padre wouldn't 
 like it, you know. If any one should appear, 
 just call out and I'll come." 
 
 Sitting down beside the spring, I waited and 
 waited. The sun worked round and the shadows 
 
Into the Giant's Castle 237 
 
 began to fall the other way, and still I waited. 
 I was becoming very fidgety, wondering where 
 Stock had got to, and conjuring up pictures of 
 all sorts of accidents that might have happened 
 to him, when I was startled by a loud " Stop ! " 
 from Hidalgo. 
 
 Springing to my feet, I ran to the spot, and 
 there, with his head sticking out of the passage 
 and a grin all over his face, was Stock ! 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 The Harpstrings 
 
 "TT THERE on earth did you spring from?" 
 
 VV I cried, in astonishment. 
 
 Stock laughed. " I've a notion not to tell 
 you," said he ; *' but that would be rather scurvy 
 treatment after you've had all the waiting and 
 I've had all the fun. I'll tell you this much, 
 though : I've found another way in and out of 
 the castle. And what's more, if I ever did bet, 
 I shouldn't mind betting a bad nickel to a 
 frozen potato that I've found the way by which 
 Don Blanco and Peral used to get in and out. 
 There! That's all I'm going to tell you at 
 present ; so, now, come on, and I'll show you 
 instead." 
 
 This was not very satisfactory to Hidalgo and 
 me, who, of course, were bursting with curiosity 
 to hear the details; but Stock was obdurate, 
 and finding it did no good to keep on badgering 
 him with questions, we made up our minds that 
 we might as well await his good pleasure. 
 
 Leading the way down the passage, our guide 
 238 
 
The Harpstrings 239 
 
 conducted us outside the castle and set off over 
 the sand ridges by the way we had come in the 
 morning. One after the other, we climbed these 
 drifts until, having ascended the last one. Stock, 
 instead of sliding down the opposite side as 
 usual, turned to the right and plowed his way 
 upward along the back-bone of the ridge to the 
 point where it rested against the castle wall. 
 Until this moment he had not said a word, but 
 now he burst forth. 
 
 " There ! " cried he. " How's that for a secret 
 passage ? " 
 
 Between the point of the drift and the castle 
 wall was a space scooped out by the wind, ex- 
 posing in the wall itself a small irregular cavity 
 about three feet high. 
 
 " Well ! " I exclaimed. " That is well hidden, 
 and no mistake ! " 
 
 " Isn't it ? How Don Blanco ever discovered 
 it puzzles me. Perhaps, though, the drift 
 wasn't here in his time." 
 
 " Well, for my part," said I, " I don't see what 
 reason you have to suppose that Don Blanco 
 did discover it." 
 
 " I know you don't," replied Stock, " but you 
 will directly. Come on." 
 
240 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 With that he lay down upon his back, gave 
 himself a shove-oif with his hands, and shot feet 
 foremost through the hole. Hidalgo and I were 
 not slow to follow, and in a moment we found 
 ourselves standing in just such another passage 
 as the one we had lately left. 
 
 Lighting candles — for this passage was very 
 dark — we followed our leader for a long dis- 
 tance, climbing steadily upward all the time, 
 until presently the tunnel opened out into a 
 capacious cave. Across this cave Stock led the 
 way, when suddenly he arrested our farther 
 progress by crying, "Stop ! Look out here ! " 
 
 Advancing cautiously, we saw that we were 
 standing upon the rim of a large circular hole 
 about twenty feet deep, in the bottom of which 
 was a crack dimly admitting a streak of day- 
 light. The pit was shaped somewhat like an 
 ordinary ginger-jar, smallest at the top, and in 
 it there stood — most interesting and unexpected 
 sight — a stout pine pole with notches cut in it 
 b}'' way of steps. 
 
 " Now ! " exclaimed Stock, triumphantly. 
 "What do you think of that? Somebody put 
 that pole there to serve as a ladder, so that he 
 might get down to the balcony and into the 
 
The Harpstrings 241 
 
 cave where the stream runs out ; for that is 
 where it leads to, and it leads nowhere else. 
 The question is — Who put it there? Don 
 Blanco?" 
 
 " It is a long time since Don Blanco's day," 
 said I, cautiously. 
 
 " I know it is," rejoined Stock, seeing what I 
 had in mind. '* But you must remember that 
 in this dry climate a stout pine pole like that 
 would last for centuries. Look at the things 
 they find in the Cliff Dwellers' houses — mats 
 and baskets and ears of corn hundreds of years 
 old and still almost as good as new. This pole 
 is sound, but it is old, too, as you can tell by the 
 look of it ; and my belief is that it was Don 
 Blanco who set it here, and that Don Blanco's 
 treasure lies somewhere ahead of us." 
 
 My usually level-headed partner was excited, 
 it was plain to see, and his excitement communi- 
 cated itself to me. 
 
 " Come on ! " I cried. " Let's go down ! If 
 Don Blanco did put this ladder here, he did it 
 with an object, and our business is to find out 
 what his object was. Come on down ! " 
 
 We were soon at the bottom, and creeping 
 through the crack emerged directly upon the 
 
242 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 upper of the two balconies which encircled the 
 Soup Kettle. Along this ledge, which was a 
 foot thick and seven or eight feet wide, we 
 walked to the great cave through which ran 
 the trickling remnant of Obispo Creek. 
 
 " Now," said Stock, '' when Don Blanco used 
 to come here, this was as far as he could go, be- 
 cause the water was coming down the slope at 
 the upper end of the cave then and he couldn't 
 get any farther." 
 
 " That's true," I interrupted. " And conse- 
 quently, if Don Blanco did hide his gold any- 
 where about here it must have been on this side 
 of the water-slope." 
 
 " That's the idea. So let us light our candles 
 and make a search of the cave." 
 
 We had no more than started on our search, 
 when we made a find which sent up our hopes 
 with a bound. On one side of the cave we dis- 
 covered a small inner chamber which evidently 
 had been once used as a living-room, for in it 
 were several dry old sheepskins arranged to 
 serve as beds, the ashes of a long-dead fire and a 
 good-sized heap of fire-wood. 
 
 But though we carefully inspected this cham- 
 ber, moving everything in it that was movable, 
 
The Harpstrings 243 
 
 we could find nothing that looked like a 
 hiding-place, and we therefore walked out again 
 to continue our search of the big cave. We had 
 scattered all over it, when from out of the dark- 
 ness we heard Hidalgo's voice calling, " I find 
 him. I find one hole ; " and hurrying to the 
 spot we saw the boy standing in the mouth of a 
 narrow passage about four feet high. 
 
 " This go somewhere," said he. " See the 
 wind, how it blow the candle." 
 
 Into this passage we squeezed, one after the 
 other, finding that it went pretty sharply down 
 hill, and after following it for some distance we 
 came into another cave, a little one this time, on 
 the far side of which, close to the floor, was a 
 small hole like a rabbit-hole, admitting a faint 
 streak of daylight and a strong draught of air. 
 
 We held our candles high and looked about 
 us. 
 
 " Hallo ! " exclaimed Stock. " Look there ! 
 A gate ! " 
 
 He pointed to a hollow place, a sort of alcove, 
 in the wall, railed off, apparently, by half a 
 dozen upright bars set about two feet apart. 
 These bars were, in fact, flat, narrow seams of 
 rock, but as they presented their edges towards 
 
244 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 us they did look very like a gate, or, still more, 
 like a grating. 
 
 But as we stood gazing at them, there sud- 
 denly came into my head the words of the in- 
 scription on the copper pot, and in a voice full 
 of excitement, I cried : 
 
 " Stock ! The Harpstrings ! " 
 
 For a brief space we all stood silent and mo- 
 tionless, and then Stock marched across the cave 
 and squeezed his big body between two of the 
 bars, we following him. Covering some object 
 on the floor of the little alcove was an old elk- 
 hide, dried stiff and all cockled at the edges, and 
 raising it we found beneath, not the heap of 
 shining gold we had made up our minds we 
 should find, but two large bowls of Mexican 
 ware, one empty and one half full of quick- 
 silver. 
 
 " I don't understand it," said Stock, rubbing 
 his chin with an air of perplexity, as he con- 
 templated this unexpected find. " Isn't there 
 any gold after all ? Did Feral come and take it 
 away ? And yet he says, ' The gold remains be- 
 hind the Harpstrings.' Surely these must be 
 the Harpstrings, but if so, where's the gold that 
 * remains ' behind them ? " 
 
The Harpstrings 245 
 
 The two bowls were standing upon a flat stone, 
 and at my suggestion we removed them and 
 lifted the stone. 
 
 " Ha ! " we all three exclaimed with one 
 breath ; for we found, as I had hoped, that the 
 stone concealed a hollow place in the floor in 
 which stood four high-shouldered, narrow- 
 necked jars, two of them covered — like old-fash- 
 ioned jam-pots — with strips of raw-hide which 
 had been put on wet and tightly bound in place 
 with a buckskin thong. 
 
 Going down upon his knees. Stock lifted out 
 one of the uncovered jars, remarking, *' That's 
 empty ; " but on taking hold of the lip of the 
 next one, though he had the strongest finger and 
 thumb of any one I ever knew, it slipped out of 
 his grasp. 
 
 " Phew ! " he whistled. " This isn't empty, 
 anyhow. It's as heavy as lead — heavy as gold, 
 I mean." 
 
 Taking a firmer hold, he lifted out the jar 
 and set it down, when we all knocked our heads 
 together trying to peep in at once. 
 
 " Here, wait a bit," said Stock. " Let's turn 
 some of it out into this bowl." 
 
 He tilted the jar carefully, but nothing came ; 
 
246 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 he tilted it further, bat still nothing came ; he 
 tilted it yet more, and then the contents fell 
 forward with a soft thud, nearly making him 
 drop the jar. Still nothing came out. 
 
 " Look in, Jamie," said he, " and see what it 
 is." 
 
 By peeping and prying, twisting my neck and 
 shifting my candle, I made out that there was 
 something shiny inside the jar, but what it was 
 I could not decide. 
 
 " Hold it steady a moment," said I, " and I'll 
 dig some of it out." 
 
 So saying, I took my knife and gouged out 
 some of the contents, which fell into the bowl 
 with a soft " spat." 
 
 " Well ! " exclaimed Stock, pushing back his 
 hat and clutching his hair. " If this doesn't 
 beat everything! Quicksilver again, and solid 
 quicksilver at that ! " 
 
 It was true ! The material was plainly quick- 
 silver, but yet it was solid ; or, rather, it was 
 stiff, so that one might press it into different 
 shapes with his finger and thumb and it would 
 stay so. 
 
 It may seem odd that two young fellows, liv- 
 ing in a country Avhere mining was so important 
 
The Harpstrings 247 
 
 an industry, should have so little knowledge of 
 metallurgy as to be unable to form a guess as to 
 the nature of this " solid " quicksilver, but it 
 must be remembered that our business was 
 " sheep," and that mining was as much out of 
 our line as it would be to the average boy in 
 Boston or New Orleans. With quicksilver that 
 you could take up in a spoon we were familiar, 
 but of quicksilver that you could pick up with 
 a fork we had never heard. 
 
 " I'll tell you what let's do. Stock," said I. 
 " Let's go back to the good padre and report 
 progress, and let's take some of this stuff with 
 us. Perhaps he will know whether it has any 
 value or not." 
 
 " That's what we'll do," cried my companion. 
 " And we'll start at once. Just a minute, 
 though ; let's open these other jars first and see 
 what's in them." 
 
 We hoisted the two jars out of the hole, both 
 of them being an immense weight, when, having 
 cut the strings and pried off the stiff raw-hide 
 covers, we found each of them to be nearly two- 
 thirds full of the same material as the first one. 
 
 " Then that settles it," said Stock. " We'll 
 take a sample and get out at once." 
 
248 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 It was just six in the evening when we reached 
 Obispo once more, pretty tired and outrageously 
 hungry, for we had been so interested in our 
 explorations that we had quite forgotten to eat 
 any dinner. The kind little padre was de- 
 lighted to see us back, nor did the voracity of 
 our appetites seem to affect his welcome, for 
 laughingly he helped us again and again as we 
 sat at his table doing our best to eat up every- 
 thing in the house that was eatable. It was not 
 till supper was over — which it was at last — that 
 he would listen to the story of our day's adven- 
 tures. 
 
 " And this, sir," said Stock, as he wound up 
 the tale, " this is the stuff we found in the jars." 
 
 After a brief examination of the sample, the 
 padre rose from his chair, and saying, '' Come 
 with me," led the way into his kitchen. There 
 was a bright fire in the fireplace, and taking a 
 long-handled iron spoon, he dropped into it a 
 fragment of the metal and inserted it among the 
 glowing coals. In a few minutes — the spoon 
 being now red-hot — he carefully removed it and 
 laid it upon the hearth. 
 
 " There ! " said he. " What do you think of 
 your ' solid ' quicksilver now ? " 
 
The Harpstrings 249 
 
 We stooped over to see. To our astonishment, 
 in place of the scrap of quicksilver, there lay 
 in the bowl of the spoon a scrap of equal 
 size, but of gold ! It was porous and " spongy " 
 — but it was gold ! We turned with one accord 
 to our host for an explanation. 
 
 " Come back to the other room," said he, 
 laughing at our wonderment, ''and I will tell 
 you how this conjuring feat is performed. 
 
 "This 'solid' quicksilver of yours," he ex- 
 plained, when we were once more seated, " is 
 what is known as amalgam. If you take some 
 quicksilver and drop into it a scrap of gold, the 
 gold will all ' dissolve ' — I know no better word ; 
 it will disappear, as a lump of sugar disappears 
 in a cup of tea. By putting the quicksilver into 
 a buckskin bag, however, and squeezing the bag 
 with your fingers, it may all — or nearly all — be 
 pressed through the pores of the buckskin, leav- 
 ing the gold in the bag. The residue is then in 
 the condition of this sample. But quicksilver, 
 when subjected to heat, will go off in fumes, 
 leaving the gold behind it ; and that is what 
 took place when I ' cooked ' that little bit in the 
 spoon just now." 
 
 " I see," said Stock, " So, after all, the stuff 
 
250 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 in the jars is gold, with a little quicksilver 
 mixed in." 
 
 '' Yes," replied the padre ; " and Peral told 
 the truth when he said, ' The gold remains be- 
 hind the Harpstrings.' Is there much of it? " 
 
 " There is not much in bulk, sir, but it is a 
 tremendous weight. It must be very valuable. 
 I'm almost afraid to go on with the job." 
 
 "So am I," said I. "Do you think, sir, we 
 had better try to get it away by ourselves ? It is 
 a pretty serious undertaking." 
 
 " It is," replied the padre. " It certainly is. 
 It is a matter which deserves careful considera- 
 tion : we must not act precipitately. There is 
 one rather curious circumstance, though, which 
 encourages me to think we shall yet defeat Mr. 
 Latimer." 
 
 "What's that, sir?" 
 
 " Has it not occurred to you that there is one 
 very remarkable fact in connection with your 
 discovery ? That it is to Mr. Latimer himself 
 you owe it? " 
 
 " No, sir ! " exclaimed Stock and I together. 
 "How?" 
 
 " By turning the stream out of its old bed he 
 provided you with a pathway by which you 
 
The Harpstrings 251 
 
 were enabled to come upon Don Blanco's passage 
 from the rear. Do you think, if the stream had 
 not been turned out of its old bed, you would 
 ever have found it ? " 
 
 " No, sir," cried Stock, slapping his knee, 
 " I'm sure we shouldn't ; we should never have 
 thought of looking behind that sand-drift. You 
 are right, sir : it was Mr. Latimer who showed 
 us the way ! " 
 
 The padre nodded. *' It is that," said he, 
 " which strengthens my belief in our ultimate 
 success. Mr. Latimer may have superior clever- 
 ness and greater force on his side, but we have 
 right and justice on ours ; and right and justice 
 will win." 
 
 The old gentleman's faith was catching ; some- 
 how we felt an unreasoning assurance that we 
 should beat Mr. Latimer in the end. 
 
 " Very well, sir," cried Stock, " then we'll go 
 ahead. The only question is — How?" 
 
 That, certainly, was the question, and a puz- 
 zling one it proved. 
 
 Important as was the matter of getting the 
 gold away, still more important was the restora- 
 tion of the water. It must be brought back, and 
 that without delay ; for already the crops were 
 
252 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 beginning to wilt under the hot sun. But if 
 Mr. Latimer was keeping watch upon the stream, 
 as he surely was, the moment he saw that it was 
 no longer running out on the south side of the 
 castle he would come over to see about it. He 
 would probably turn the stream back again, and 
 then, knowing that the padre must have secured 
 help from some outsider, he would proceed to 
 find out who the helper was. Then, should he 
 discover our presence in Obispo, he might be 
 able to prevent us from returning to the castle ; 
 in which case the padre and the villagers would 
 be no better off than before. 
 
 We discussed this problem very thoroughly, 
 for a long time without finding a solution, when, 
 at length, an idea occurred to me. 
 
 '' How would this work, sir ? " I asked. 
 " Suppose, to-morrow afternoon, we ride to the 
 castle, getting one of the Mexicans here to ride 
 with us to bring back our horses " 
 
 "Why?" Stock interrupted. "What's the 
 object of that?" 
 
 " Because we shan't want them. Wait till 
 I've finished and then you'll see." 
 
 " All right ; go ahead." 
 
 " We'll take our blankets with us and pro- 
 
The Harpstrings 253 
 
 visions enough for a day or two and camp for 
 that one night where the stream runs out from 
 the Soup Kettle. At dusk we'll turn the 
 water." 
 
 " Why at dusk ? " asked Stock. 
 
 " Because Mr. Latimer won't be able to see it, 
 and we shall have the stream running for 
 twelve hours anyhow. Then, first thing in the 
 morning, we'll carry our things up to the cave 
 and go into hiding there." 
 
 "Well, what next? I don't quite see what 
 you're driving at." 
 
 " Why, this," I replied. " We turn the stream 
 at dusk." Stock nodded. " At daylight next 
 morning — or before — we go up to the cave and 
 there we pack up the gold ready for transporta- 
 tion. At dark next evening we bring it away." 
 
 " Yes, that's all right — as far as it goes — but 
 how about the water ? If Mr. Latimer sees that 
 the stream has stopped he will come and turn it 
 again, and then, I expect, he will set a guard in 
 the passage to prevent any one going in." 
 
 " All right ; let him. We shall be in Don 
 Blanco's cave, shan't we, and all we have to do 
 is to walk up the dry bed of the creek, as we 
 have done before, turn the stream, and then 
 
2 54 T>a\e: and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 with a brisk run get back to the cave before the 
 water arrives." 
 
 Once more Stock slapped his knee. " Jamie," 
 he cried, " I believe you've struck it ! That 
 does seem like a workable idea. Mr. Latimer 
 won't know where we spring from, and I should 
 think he would soon get tired of piling up 
 sand-bags only to have them removed as soon as 
 his back is turned. What do you think of 
 Jamie's plan, sir ? " 
 
 " Well," replied the old gentleman in a some- 
 what doubtful tone, but at the same time smil- 
 ing kindly, as though loth to throw cold water 
 on our enthusiasm, " we cannot tell, of course, 
 how it may succeed until we try, but at least it 
 has one decided merit — it is a plan." 
 
 " Yes," said Stock, laughing, '' we can say that 
 for it, anyhow ; and what's more, it is the only 
 plan we have." 
 
 " That is true," the padre assented. " And as 
 we must get the water back at once, we will try 
 Jamie's way of doing it. By the way," he 
 added, *' I would suggest that while you are 
 waiting in your cave you occupy your time by 
 * converting ' your amalgam into gold — I will 
 provide you with some iron spoons for the pur- 
 
The Harpstrings 255 
 
 pose. There is no need for you to carry the 
 extra weight and bulk of the quicksilver ; the 
 smaller the package the better." 
 
 " Very well, sir," said Stock. " So that is 
 settled. We turn the stream at dusk to- 
 morrow." 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A Pistol Shot 
 
 SUNSET next evening found us once more 
 at the entrance of Mr. Latimer's passage, 
 when, leaving Stock and Hidalgo to keep guard 
 outside, I climbed up to the spring and one by- 
 one turned the sacks of sand upside down. 
 Away went the stream, as if rejoicing to find 
 itself again in its familiar bed ; and seeing that 
 the water had ceased to run out on the opposite 
 side of the pool, I gathered up the sacks and 
 quickly rejoined my companions. 
 
 Returning to our camp under the western 
 wall of the castle, we cooked our supper and 
 soon afterwards went to bed beneath the stars, 
 sleeping as soundly as three fat young bears in 
 midwinter. So soundly, indeed, did we sleep 
 that we were not aware until morning that 
 some time during the night a lively little thun- 
 der-storm had come rattling down the range, 
 pelted us for a few minutes and passed on. But 
 for the pleasant freshness of the air and the not 
 256 
 
A Pistol Shot 257 
 
 so pleasant dampness of our blankets we should 
 have known nothing about it. 
 
 The daylight was yet feeble when we arose, 
 packed up all our scanty belongings and carried 
 them up to Don Blanco's cavern, through which 
 there was now rushing a fine stream of water, 
 which leaped from the balcony and went flying 
 across the bottom of the Soup Kettle on its way 
 down to Obispo. 
 
 As soon as we had made things snug, we went 
 down to the little cave below, whence we carried 
 up everything to the big outer cavern, and there, 
 as soon as the fire we had made had burned into 
 coals, we set to work " reducing " our amalgam. 
 
 Turning out the contents of one of the jars 
 into the empty bowl, we took scraps of the metal 
 and cooked them in the iron spoons, of which 
 we had six, keeping them all going at once ; 
 taking care, however, not to breathe any of the 
 fumes, which, the good padre had told us, it 
 was dangerous to do. As soon as the contents 
 of any of the spoons turned yellow we dropped 
 them into one of the empty jars and pounded 
 down the stuff with a stick. 
 
 It was a tedious process, but by the middle of 
 the afternoon we had " converted " all our amal- 
 
^5^ Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 gam, packing the resulting gold into two of the 
 jars, each of which it filled two-thirds full. 
 Hidalgo having whittled a couple of " corks " 
 out of a piece of fire-wood, we plugged the 
 mouths of the jars, sealing them with lumps of 
 clay and covering the whole with pieces of wet 
 buckskin tightly bound round with twine. 
 
 For the transportation of these heavy jars, we 
 placed them in two stout sacks, furnished — un- 
 wittingly — by Mr. Latimer, sewing them in place 
 with twine, and afterwards fastening the mouths 
 of the sacks securely together ; thus making a 
 rough but serviceable double-ended saddle-bag. 
 
 I was busy doing the sewing — for we had but 
 one big needle — when Stock remarked : " Jamie, 
 I think I'll pack up the quicksilver too ; we might 
 have a chance to carry it off, and if we can we 
 may as well." 
 
 Taking the two remaining jars, therefore, he 
 ladled the quicksilver into them, finding that it 
 filled them both to the neck, and having corked 
 them with clay, he covered each with a patch 
 of wet buckskin as we had the other two 
 jars. 
 
 While he and I were thus engaged, Hidalgo, 
 who was without occupation, wandered outside 
 
A Pistol Shot 259 
 
 upon the balcony. Presently he walked briskly 
 in again, stepped to the wood-pile, whence he se- 
 lected a long stick, and went off down the pas- 
 sage to the little cave below. In a few minutes 
 back he came, without the stick, and once more 
 went out upon the balcony. 
 
 " What's he up to ? " asked Stock. 
 
 "Don't know," I replied. ''Hark! Here 
 he comes back again." 
 
 Hidalgo advanced to the end of the cave 
 where we were, his face beaming with a smile 
 of such evident self-satisfaction that Stock, who 
 was seated on the ground with a jar between his 
 knees, busily winding a piece of twine round 
 and round its neck, looked up and said : 
 
 '' Hallo, Hidalgo ! What's the matter with 
 you all of a sudden ? Locoed ? " 
 
 The youngster grinned, and squatting down 
 beside us, he replied : 
 
 " I tell you, senor. I think in my head " 
 
 But here he stopped, and what Hidalgo 
 thought in his head we were destined not to 
 learn just yet. His countenance assumed an 
 air of listening, and holding up one finger, he 
 said, " I hear a silence ! " 
 
 It was his way of saying that he missed 
 
26o Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 a sound, and we, listening also, noticed that 
 some familiar noise was lacking. 
 
 " It is the stream," said Hidalgo. " It is 
 stopped." 
 
 Up we all jumped and ran to look. Hidalgo 
 was right : the stream had ceased to run. Mr. 
 Latimer doubtless had blocked it again. 
 
 " What do you think, Jamie ; shall we turn 
 it on again ? " Stock asked. 
 
 " I should think so," I replied ; " and if we 
 are going to walk up the dry bed of the creek 
 we must go at once while there is still daylight." 
 
 " That's a fact," said Stock. " Come on, then." 
 
 It was no easy thing to get up the water-chute 
 at the end of the cave, but Stock, after two or 
 three ineffectual attempts, at length scrambled 
 up, and having brought with him one of our 
 two picket-ropes, he cast the end down to us, 
 when we followed him up with comparative 
 ease. 
 
 Proceeding with caution, we came presently 
 to the " courtyard," when, seeing nobody about, 
 we walked up to the spring, finding, as we had 
 expected, that the sand-bags we had carried off 
 had been replaced by a new set. 
 
 Here Stock was for removing the obstacles at 
 
A Pistol Shot 261 
 
 once, but I, fearing that in the race back to the 
 cave the water might get there first, suggested 
 instead that we take our knives and slash the 
 sacks, trusting to the water to dig out their con- 
 tents by degrees. Accordingly, we all whipped 
 out our knives and cut great gaps in the bags, 
 which at once began to settle as the sand oozed 
 out of them. To make a sure thing of it. Stock 
 seized the middle sack and flung it into the 
 pool. Out gushed the water ; and at the same 
 moment away went we, as hard as we could run. 
 
 In our race with the water we were easy win- 
 ners, for by cutting across the bends of the stream 
 we gained on it so much that we had been safely 
 back in our cave a good ten minutes ere the full 
 volume of Obispo Creek was once more pouring 
 into the Soup Kettle. 
 
 " Now, Jamie," said Stock, " we must finish up 
 our work here and be ready to get out at a mo- 
 ment's notice. Mr. Latimer will be just flying 
 around, trying to find out who has cut up his 
 sacks." 
 
 There was no doubt about that, so, without 
 losing a moment, we set about making our 
 preparations for a sudden departure, should 
 such a course appear necessary. 
 
262 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 It was an hour later, perhaps, and we were at 
 supper in the little inner chamber, when with 
 one accord we all sat up straight and cocked our 
 ears. The muffled sound of a pistol-shot was 
 humming through the caves ! 
 
 Who fired this shot, and why, I must now ex- 
 plain ; for though it was not until long after- 
 wards that we learned the particulars, I must 
 relate them here in order to make matters 
 intelligible. 
 
 As we had suspected, it had been Mr. Lati- 
 mer's habit once every day to ascend to the roof 
 of his house, and from that elevation to note 
 whether the stream was still running out on the 
 south side of the castle. He had become so ac- 
 customed to seeing it pouring out day after day 
 that when, one afternoon, on climbing to his 
 lookout post, he missed the familiar flash of the 
 water, he could hardly believe his eyes. Long 
 and earnestly he gazed through his field-glass, 
 reaching the conclusion at last that his eyes had 
 not deceived him : the stream had stopped ! 
 
 Calling his two henchmen, Aaron and The 
 Fox, and carrying with him a new set of sacks, 
 he at once rode over to see about it. Knowing 
 that the Mexicans dare not venture into the 
 
A Pistol Shot 263 
 
 castle, and being ignorant of our presence in the 
 valley, he expected to find that the water had 
 somehow burst its way through the barrier ; but 
 when, on reaching the spring, he discovered 
 that the sacks had disappeared bodily, he im- 
 mediately concluded that the padre had suc- 
 ceeded in securing help from some other 
 quarter. 
 
 Aaron having filled the new sacks and set 
 them in place, the three men returned to the 
 mouth of the passage, where, after a lengthy 
 consultation, it was decided that the big negro 
 should remain on guard while the other two 
 rode round the castle to try to pick up the trail 
 of the intruders and find out where they came 
 from. 
 
 Mr. Latimer and The Fox rode off accord- 
 ingly, but they had hardly gone a hundred 
 yards when a shout from Aaron brought them 
 back. 
 
 The stream had stopped again ! 
 
 So his adversaries, whoever they were, were 
 hiding somewhere inside the castle itself ! Very 
 well ; they should soon be routed out. Trust 
 The Fox to run them down to their lair. 
 
 The three men returned forthwith to the pool, 
 
264 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 where they found the new sacks all cut and 
 slashed and scattered this way and that by the 
 water. 
 
 Like a well-trained old hound, The Fox at 
 once cast about for some sign of the busybodies 
 who had worked the mischief — a seemingly 
 hopeless quest on the hard stone floor of the 
 " courtyard." None but an Indian would ever 
 have discovered a trace, but in a couple of min- 
 utes this keen-sighted old savage espied on the 
 rock a minute scratch made by a brass shoe- 
 nail, and directly afterwards another and an- 
 other. With these tiny marks as guides, he 
 conducted his companions along the border of 
 the stream and into the passage which led down 
 to the big cave. Here new evidence of our 
 presence was found in the form of candle-grease, 
 and feeling sure they had run us to earth, on 
 they went until suddenly they came upon the 
 rim of the water-chute. 
 
 Seeing at a glance how impossible it would be 
 for any one to climb the slope while the water 
 was running down it, they knew that there must 
 be some other way out of the castle on beyond, 
 and supposing that we might have already left 
 the place, back they hurried to their horses and 
 
A Pistol Shot 265 
 
 went scouring round the back of the castle in 
 the hope of cutting across our trail. 
 
 Arrived at the outlet of the stream they of 
 course discovered our old camp, and there The 
 Fox, once more casting about, very soon came 
 upon our tracks — that inopportune little thun- 
 der-storm having rendered the sand sufficiently 
 damp to retain our footprints. Without hesi- 
 tation he led the way straight to the top of the 
 sand drift and into the passage, along which 
 they followed until, to their great surprise, they 
 came upon Don Blanco's ladder. 
 
 It was obvious to them, as it had been to us, 
 that the old pine pole had stood there many 
 years, and in Mr. Latimer's mind immediately 
 arose the question: — Who put it there? Like 
 a flash his thoughts flew to Don Blanco's treas- 
 ure — a subject never very far from his mind 
 in any case — and for the first time he conceived 
 the idea that it was not merely for the sake of 
 restoring the water that the padre's emissaries 
 had invaded the castle. 
 
 Greatly excited, he climbed down the ladder 
 and creeping through the hole in the bottom of 
 the pit, he surveyed the Soup Kettle and its en- 
 circling balconies. For several minutes he 
 
266 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 studied the place. The only visible opening in 
 the face of the cliff was the archway whence the 
 stream issued, and the conclusion was a safe one 
 that the padre's friends, whoever they might be, 
 were now in behind that archway ; for The Fox 
 had assured him that all the footprints — the foot- 
 prints of three people — pointed inward and in- 
 ward only. 
 
 Mr. Latimer chuckled — and well he might ; 
 for here were the padre's agents corraled. They 
 could not ascend the water-chute ; they could not 
 climb out of the pit. They could only get out 
 by his good leave. 
 
 Knowing therefore that he held the enemy in 
 his hands, and being assured that they must 
 capitulate on any terms he chose to offer, Mr. 
 Latimer decided that he would summon them to 
 a parley, and as there was no horn suspended at 
 the castle gate upon which he might blow a 
 warning blast, he did the next best thing — he 
 drew a revolver and fired a shot in the air. 
 
 " A shot ! " cried Stock, jumping to his feet ; 
 an example we all followed. " Mr. Latimer 
 making signals ! We must go and look after our 
 ladder, Jamie ; if he were to find it, it might be 
 awkward." 
 
A Pistol Shot 267 
 
 Inside the cave the sound of the shot had been 
 so faint that we supposed it to have been fired 
 somewhere beyond the castle walls, and though 
 we agreed that it would be better to err, if we 
 erred at all, on the side of caution, we really 
 had no fear that Mr. Latimer would be able to 
 find the passage. We had forgotten the thun- 
 der-storm ; nor did we know that The Fox had 
 been the most noted trailer of his tribe. 
 
 Taking with us the saddle-bags, we hastened 
 along the balcony to the crack in the wall lead- 
 ing into the pit, where I, being the first to crawl 
 through, turned to haul up the bags. The 
 position was cramped, however, and tug as I 
 might I could not budge them. 
 
 " Stock," I called, " you'll have to come 
 through and pull from this end. You may talk 
 about lead being heavy, but I believe gold is 
 twice as heavy." 
 
 As soon as we had hoisted the bags through 
 the crack, I lighted a candle and turned to 
 ascend the ladder. It was gone ! At the same 
 moment a quiet chuckle above our heads caus- 
 ing us to look up, we saw, seated on the edge of 
 the pit, his feet dangling in space, a tall, black- 
 haired man with a very one-sided nose. On his 
 
268 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 right stood a burly negro with a good-natured 
 grin on his face, and on his left a little, 
 wrinkled old Indian, who stood, stiff and stolid, 
 gazing down at us without a smile or a wink. 
 
 Our countenances must have worn a very blank 
 expression, for Mr. Latimer, laughing softly, said, 
 " Awkward, isn't it, boys? You are, without any 
 figure of speech, ' in a hole.' " Then, as Hidalgo 
 came crawling up — '' Ah ! Little Jose Sandoval, 
 the owner of the copper pot ! Now I begin to 
 understand. So you have found Don Blanco's 
 treasure, have you ? I rather suspected as much 
 when I saw this old ladder," indicating the pine 
 pole, the end of which we could see projecting 
 between Aaron's feet, " and of course when I 
 heard you mention the weight of those bags I 
 felt sure of it." 
 
 As we made no reply, having, indeed, noth- 
 ing to say, he went on : 
 
 " Well, it is growing late and I should like to 
 be getting home ; so now to business, boys. I 
 have a proposal to make to you which I am sure 
 your good sense will convince you is just and 
 reasonable." As he said this he laughed in a 
 manner which, I thought, boded us no good. 
 ** It is plain that you cannot get out of this 
 
A Pistol Shot 269 
 
 place without my leave ; so this is my proposi- 
 tion : I have for sale one ladder, old but 
 serviceable — the price a very inferior hair of 
 saddle-bags. What do you say ? " 
 
 It was just as I had feared. We were not to 
 expect mercy or decency from a man who was 
 ready to starve out the whole population of 
 Obispo in order to gain his ends. He was just as 
 ready to starve out us. He had the whip-hand 
 of us and he was going to make the most of it. 
 
 I could hear Stock grind his teeth, but after a 
 moment's reflection he replied quietly : '* Look 
 here, Mr. Latimer — I suppose you are Mr. Lati- 
 mer — you have the best of it at present, I'll 
 allow, but you've got to remember that if we 
 can't get out, you can't get in ; and it won't be 
 long before our friends come to look for us : 
 they know where we are. Now, I'll make a bar- 
 gain with you : You set back the ladder at once 
 and I'll give you half the contents of one of 
 these jars — we have the stuff packed in jars. 
 What do you say?" 
 
 " On the whole," Mr. Latimer replied, with 
 deliberate, conversational easiness, " on the 
 whole, I think not. Even if your friends should 
 come to look for you, I think I can head them 
 
270 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 off ; while without outside assistance it is obvious 
 that you must eventually come round to my 
 terms. Don't suppose for a moment that I feel 
 any unfriendliness towards you, even though 
 you did play hankey-pankey with my sand- 
 bags ; on the contrary, I feel that I am under an 
 obligation to you for having unearthed this 
 treasure, which I am sure I could never have 
 done for myself. But for years past, long before 
 you ever heard of it, I have been hoping to find 
 Don Blanco's hoard, and now that it may be 
 said to be virtually in my hands, I can see no 
 good reason for resigning the major part of it to 
 you. So, much as I regret to appear disoblig- 
 ing, I fear I must decline your offer." 
 
 For myself, I could see no way out of it. 
 With all politeness, this gentlemanly highway 
 robber was demanding our money or our lives ; 
 for, when all was said, that was what it came to. 
 We might take our choice : give up the gold or 
 starve to death. There was no third course that 
 I could see. 
 
 It was at this moment that Hidalgo, who had 
 hitherto stood silently by, went to shift his po- 
 sition, when, seemingly by accident, his feet 
 slipped, he staggered, and in the effort to save 
 
A Pistol Shot 271 
 
 himself he sent the candle flying out of my 
 hand with a sweep of his arm, leaving us all in 
 total darkness. While I was fumbling in my 
 pocket for another candle, the boy grasped Stock 
 by the arm and whispered eagerly in his ear, 
 " To-morrow, seilor, to-morrow." 
 
 Stock patted him upon the hand to show that 
 he understood, and when I had struck another 
 light, he looked up and said : 
 
 " This proposal of yours is pretty sudden, Mr. 
 Latimer, and it's a serious matter. I should 
 like to have till to-morrow to think about it." 
 
 " Very well," replied Mr. Latimer, after a lit- 
 tle reflection. " I see no objection to that. You 
 can't get out, I know ; the fact that you offered 
 me part of the gold just now is evidence enough 
 of that : you would not have done so if you had 
 known of a way of escape. So," rising as he 
 spoke, *' I'll come back for your answer some 
 time to-morrow morning. Aaron, pull that 
 pole a little farther back. That's right. So, 
 now, we'll be off". Good-night, boys. See you 
 to-morrow." 
 
 With that the three men departed, while we, 
 creeping through the crack again, carried our 
 precious saddle-bags back to the cave. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 What Hidalgo Thought in His Head 
 
 NOW, Hidalgo I " cried Stock. '' What is 
 it ? Do you think you see some way of 
 getting us out ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the little fellow instantly. 
 " I get us out. I get us out, sir, I am almost- 
 yes-quite sure." 
 
 The youngster looked so bright and eager that 
 our hopes rose. 
 
 " How ? " we both asked, simultaneously. 
 
 " I tell you. I tie me a rope round me, and 
 you shall let me down to the little balco-ny 
 down below " 
 
 "But," Stock objected, ''we can't do that, 
 Hidalgo. The upper balcony is four or five feet 
 wider than the one below ; you would swing 
 clear ; you wouldn't be able to come near it." 
 
 " Ah, senor ! " the boy interposed. " Wait 
 one little minute and I tell you. It come in 
 my head this day, this ladder of Don Blanco it 
 is old, and I think, the Seiior Stock he is heavy, 
 and I say to myself, * Suppose, now, he shall go 
 272 
 
What Hidalgo Thought in his Head 273 
 
 up the ladder one-fine-day and the ladder it 
 shall break in two-three pieces ; that shall be 
 very discomfortable.' And I think in my head, 
 ' It is good if there shall be one other way to get 
 out.' Then I walk on the balco-ny, and I look 
 very sharp, and just close by outside I find one 
 place where the rock it is thin, and I think in 
 my head, ' Ha ! If the ladder shall break, it is 
 here we shall knock us a hole through the bal- 
 co-ny and get us down by this way.' " 
 
 " That's all very fine, Hidalgo," said I ; " but 
 how are we to break a hole without any tools? " 
 
 " Senor," replied the little fellow, " we have 
 tools — there," pointing to our wood-pile. *' We 
 build us on the balco-ny one big fire ; then, 
 when the rock it is very hot, we throw on it 
 some cold water and the rock it shall go bang- 
 smash — it shall fly in one thousand bits." 
 
 "There's something in that. Stock," said I. 
 " That's the way the miners of Old Mexico used 
 to break rock before they knew anything of 
 gunpowder. Besides, did you ever drop a hot 
 stone into a bucket of water and see how it will 
 fly to pieces?" 
 
 Stock nodded. *' Yes," said he, " I suppose 
 we might break a hole through the balcony in 
 
274 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 that way. But I don't see that we are any 
 better off if we do. Suppose we let you down 
 to the lower balcony, Hidalgo, — what next? 
 You can't jump off without breaking your neck." 
 
 Hidalgo smiled all over. *' Seilor," said he, 
 " again one little minute and I tell you. You 
 shall remember there is in the little cave where 
 the Harpstrings is, one small hole — what you 
 call a ' rabbit-hole.' I go down there this day 
 and I poke through the hole one long stick. 
 Then I go back on the balco-ny and I lay me 
 down flat, and I stretch out my neck very long 
 and I pe-e-ep over, and I see the stick, and, 
 lo-behold ! it is lying on the little balco-ny 
 down below ! " 
 
 Hidalgo paused, looking from one to the other 
 of us to see if we yet divined his plan ; but as 
 we merely said, " Well ? " he went on : 
 
 " We knock us a hole and I get me down to 
 the little balco-ny. You take then the rope and 
 with the long stick you poke it through the 
 ' rabbit-hole.' Then you shall hold very tight 
 one end, and I shall slide me down the rope to 
 the bottom. Then, ver}^ quick, I run round and 
 put back the ladder, and then ! " 
 
 He clapped his hands together, looking 
 
What Hidalgo Thought in his Head 275 
 
 eagerly from Stock to me and from me to Stock, 
 breathless with excitement. 
 
 When at length we understood his plan, we 
 were scarcely less excited than he was. 
 
 '' Stock ! " I exclaimed. " It looks possible, 
 doesn't it?" 
 
 " Yes, it does," replied my partner. " We'll 
 try it anyhow. It all depends upon our being 
 able to knock a hole through the upper balcony. 
 Come on, Hidalgo ; show us where the rock is 
 thin." 
 
 Hidalgo, more than willing, led the way out- 
 side, and walking a few steps along the balcony 
 on the right hand side of the waterfall, went 
 down upon his knees, saying, " Here it is where 
 we make our fire." 
 
 Close beside the upright wall of rock which 
 towered one hundred feet above our heads, we 
 found in the solid stone ledge a deep depression 
 about forty inches in diameter. It looked as 
 though, ages ago, when the material composing 
 the ledge was yet soft, a big boulder had settled 
 into it, which boulder, afterwards crumbling to 
 dust, had in course of time been washed and 
 blown away, leaving tliis deep indentation as 
 evidence of its former presence. 
 
276 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 " Jamie," cried Stock, as he tapped upon the 
 rock with the handle of his sheath-knife, " it is 
 ever so much thinner here. Hark ! I believe 
 we can break through. Start a fire ! " 
 
 For more than an hour we kept a fierce fire 
 going, when, the stone bowl being full of glow- 
 ing embers and the rock all round having be- 
 come much too hot to touch, we judged we 
 might try the application of cold water. 
 Hidalgo, therefore, filled one of the Mexican 
 bowls and stood ready, while I scraped the hot 
 embers out of the depression. 
 
 " Now ! " cried the boy. " Mind you your 
 eye!" 
 
 " Mind your own," was Stock's reply, as we 
 turned our backs. 
 
 The only answer was a loud explosion ; a 
 shower of rock-chips and hot cinders rattled 
 about our ears, while a cloud of steam and ashes 
 half smothered us. Eagerly we turned to see 
 the result, and our satisfaction will be imagined 
 when we found that a large, jagged hole had 
 been punched through the balcony. 
 
 The application of a few more bowds of water 
 soon cooled ofi* the rock, when Stock, going 
 down upon his knees, peered through the hole. 
 
What Hidalgo Thought in his Head 277 
 
 *' It is all right," said he ; " we are directly 
 above the lower balcony. Fetch the two picket- 
 ropes, Jamie, while I knock off some of these 
 sharp points," 
 
 The two ropes, each thirty feet long, were 
 firmly knotted together, when Stock, having 
 looped one end around Hidalgo's chest, carefully 
 lowered him through the hole. Down he went, 
 sometimes dangling clear and sometimes scraping 
 against the face of the cliff, until presently he 
 reached the little ledge below, when, having freed 
 himself from the rope, he looked up and cried, 
 '' All right, senor. Wait now one little minute 
 till I see if I get me safe to the ' rabbit-hole.' " 
 
 So saying, he passed beneath the waterfall, 
 but in a "little minute" he was back again, 
 calling up to us, '* It is all right. I get there 
 easy ; just so easy as to tumble off a stump." 
 
 Down ran Stock to the little cave, pushed the 
 rope through the " rabbit-hole," and called to 
 Hidalgo to go ahead. In another moment the 
 boy was safely at the bottom, when, with a wave 
 of his hand to me, he turned, ran across the 
 Soup Kettle and vanished into the crevice on 
 the far side. 
 
 As will be imagined, it did not take us long 
 
278 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 to get back to the pit, where, after waiting ten 
 minutes, we heard footsteps approaching, and di- 
 rectly afterwards Hidalgo's smiling face, lighted 
 up by a candle, peered at us over the edge. 
 
 We soon had the ladder in place again, and — 
 to make a long story short — at half-past two in 
 the morning we were knocking once more at 
 the padre's hospitable door. 
 
 Untimely as was the hour, our old friend wel- 
 comed us heartily and listened with much in- 
 terest to the details of our adventure. 
 
 " And now," said he, when we had at length 
 concluded our story, " now you must sleep — the 
 longer the better. For the present you and the 
 gold are safe ; but we have a difficult problem 
 before us : how to get you away from the valley. 
 You will need clear heads to think it out ; so 
 now to sleep." 
 
 It was late in the day when we reassembled 
 for a conference ; Hidalgo, much to his gratifica- 
 tion, being summoned to the council. 
 
 " First of all," said the padre, " I must tell 
 you that Mr. Latimer has found out where you 
 are. This morning I sent out a young man into 
 the sand-hills to watch. He reports that he saw 
 three men approach the castle and disappear 
 
What Hidalgo Thought in his Head 279 
 
 into the passage. In two or three minutes, how- 
 ever, they were out again and galloping in this 
 direction. About half a mile away two of them 
 stopped, while the third came on, and having 
 ridden all round the village, rejoined his com- 
 panions, when they all went off together in the 
 direction of Casa Grande. The man who rode 
 round the village was The Fox. You can guess 
 his object, I suppose." 
 
 " Yes," said Stock. " I understand. The Fox 
 found our trail leading into Obispo and made a 
 circuit of the place to see whether it led out 
 again. As it didn't, he knows we are still here." 
 
 '' Exactly," replied the padre. " And as Mr. 
 Latimer has taken the trouble to find out where 
 you are, it is safe to conclude that we have not 
 yet done with him. He will try to waylay you 
 when you leave." 
 
 " Well," remarked Stock, " one thing seems 
 clear : if we try to get off by daylight Mr, Latimer 
 will certainly see us out on this flat valley, so the 
 only alternative will be to start after nightfall." 
 
 " I foresee a difficulty in that, too," said the 
 padre. " Mr. Latimer has a score or more of 
 half-wild cowmen in his pay, Mexicans, Indians 
 and half-breeds, and I expect, as soon as night 
 
2 8o Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 falls, he will picket this village all round, so 
 that no one may get away without his knowing 
 it." 
 
 " How can we find out if he does ? " asked 
 Stock. 
 
 " We might manage that, I think," said I. 
 " Let us make a false start to-night — leaving the 
 jars here, of course — go a little way and come 
 back. If there should be any watchers we might 
 get sight of them." 
 
 " That is not a bad idea," remarked the padre. 
 " I would suggest that as soon as it is dark you 
 ride as far as the castle ; by the time you reach 
 it the moon will be up and by getting into the 
 deep shadow of the west wall and waiting there 
 half an hour you may be able to see if any one 
 is following you." 
 
 " We'll do it ! " cried Stock. " I don't think 
 there is much danger that Mr. Latimer will try 
 to waylay us down here in the flat valley, where 
 the villagers of Obispo might possibly interfere ; 
 it will be in the pass that he will try to ambush 
 us." 
 
 '' Yes, I think that is pretty sure," the padre 
 assented. " So you shall try the experiment to- 
 night." 
 
What Hidalgo Thought in his Head 281 
 
 It was profoundly dark when we started, and 
 not a sound did we hear nor any sign of human 
 being did we see, until, after a long wait in the 
 shadow of the castle wall, the sharp-eyed Hi- 
 dalgo whispered : 
 
 " Look-see ! One little fire out on the edge of 
 the sand-hills ! " 
 
 "What does that mean, do you suppose?" 
 asked Stock. 
 
 " I think, sir. The Fox he follow us, though 
 we do not see him — the old Indian he know 
 quite well how to keep himself hid — and when 
 he find we go this way he run quick and light 
 one little fire to tell Mr. Latimer which way we 
 
 go." 
 
 " I see. A prearranged signal. And I sup- 
 pose all Mr. Latimer's pickets are now riding as 
 hard as they can to get into the pass ahead of us." 
 
 " I think yes, senor." 
 
 " Then we may as well go back," said I. 
 ** We've found out all we can." 
 
 "Wait a bit," Stock interposed. "I'll tell 
 you what I should like to do, Jamie. If you 
 two will keep guard at the entrance, I should 
 like to go up to the cave once more and bring 
 away all the things we left behind." 
 
282 
 
 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 Though I did not at all like the idea, for it 
 seemed to me to be taking a needless risk for the 
 sake of a few blankets and a cooking- pot or two, 
 Stock was so urgent that at last I gave in ; and 
 though my fears turned out to be groundless, it 
 was an anxious half-hour I spent before he came 
 out of the passage again carrying a bulky bundle 
 over his shoulder. 
 
 '' Woosh ! " went he, blowing out his breath 
 like the exhaust of a steam-engine. " I tell you 
 that's heavy. I brought away the quicksilver 
 too, Jamie ; no use leaving it for Mr. Latimer." 
 " That's true," said I. " We shan't be able to 
 carry it out of the valley ourselves, but perhaps 
 the padre may find a use for it. Come on, now, 
 let's get back." 
 
 It was not until we reached the village again 
 that it occurred to us that we had been rather 
 inconsiderate of the padre, for, what with the 
 time occupied in bringing the things out of the 
 cave and the slowness of our return journey, 
 we were very late in getting in and our host was 
 becoming uneasy at our prolonged absence. It 
 hit us all the harder, too, when the unselfish 
 old man, instead of taking us to task, as he 
 had so good an excuse for doing, thanked us 
 
What Hidalgo Thought in his Head 283 
 
 for our thoughtfuhiess in bringing away the 
 quicksilver for his benefit. 
 
 "Put the jars down there by the fireplace, if 
 you please, Stock," said he. "That's right. 
 Now, throw this old rug over them." 
 
 Stock did as requested, remarking, " I hope 
 the stuff has some value ; there's a good deal of 
 it. Both jars are plum full, sir, and it's precious 
 heavy stuff." 
 
 " Full, are they ! " exclaimed the padre with 
 sudden interest. " Ah ! " 
 
 Why he should say " Ah ! " like that we could 
 not understand ; nor did we feel at all enlight- 
 ened when, after pacing up and down the room 
 a time or two, he stopped in front of us, eyed us 
 quizzically for a moment, and then, very much 
 to our surprise, broke into a quiet laugh. We 
 looked at him inquiringly ; but whatever the 
 joke might be, he seemed disposed to keep it to 
 himself, for, still chuckling softly, all he said 
 was, " Now, boys, to bed. To-morrow night you 
 start in earnest." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 In Prison and Out 
 
 IT occurred to me when we met next morning 
 that the padre must have passed a sleepless 
 night : he looked tired and rather worn. He 
 was as cheerful as usual, however, and as 
 thoughtful for our comfort ; and, moreover, if 
 he w^as feeling tired, his mind was clear as to 
 how we were to proceed. 
 
 " I feel pretty sure," said he, " that Mr. Lat- 
 imer will think you were bound for the Obispo 
 pass last night, but took alarm and came back ; 
 in which case it would not surprise him if 3'oa 
 were next to try the pass at the head of the 
 range. I suggest, therefore, that to-night 3'ou 
 ride straight northward for one hour — that will 
 give his spies time enough to make sure which 
 way you are going — and then turn short to your 
 right, pass behind the castle, and so to the Obispo 
 pass." 
 
 " That's a good idea, sir," replied Stock ; " and 
 I hope they'll decide quickly that we are bound 
 for the northern pass, because then they will 
 284 
 
In Prison and Out 285 
 
 come thundering after us and perhaps over-ride 
 our trail in the dark," 
 
 " Precisely," assented the padre, adding : " If 
 at any time before the hour is up you should 
 see a signal-fire behind you, turn off at once." 
 
 '' Very well, sir," said Stock. 
 
 " Now, dear boys," continued the padre very 
 earnestly, " you Avill wonder that I should sug- 
 gest this course when I add that after thinking 
 all night about it, I have come to the conclusion 
 that, while you may get clear off to-night, the 
 chances are that you will be captured." 
 
 At this unexpected conclusion our counte- 
 nances fell to such a degree that the old gentle- 
 man, in spite of his earnestness, could not re- 
 press a smile. " But," he continued, " that does 
 not necessarily mean the loss of the treasure. 
 If you will promise me to follow my instructions, 
 I, on my part, promise — however appearances 
 may be to the contrary — that Mr. Latimer shall 
 not succeed in carrying off the gold." 
 
 This seemed to us like a pretty rash promise, 
 and I suppose the expression on our faces in- 
 dicated as much, for the padre, nodding his head 
 three or four times, went on : 
 
 " Yes, yes. I know. Nevertheless " — lean- 
 
286 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 ing forward and laying his slim fingers upon 
 Stock's big, red fist — " nevertheless, I promise." 
 
 " Then that settles it," cried Stock. " You 
 give the orders, sir, and we'll follow them." 
 
 " Good ! " exclaimed the padre, evidently 
 much gratified. " Then these are my instruc- 
 tions — they are very simple : If you are 
 captured, do not resist ; and the moment you 
 are at liberty, come straight back to me. That 
 is all." 
 
 " All right, sir," replied Stock and I, together. 
 " We'll do so." 
 
 As we should require a pack-animal to carry 
 the saddle-bags, Hidalgo procured for us an old 
 burro belonging to his grandfather ; a wizened 
 little rat of a donkey which, though bony and 
 gray about the nose, was wonderfully tough and 
 enduring, and was, Hidalgo assured us, well 
 able to carry the weight of the two jars. 
 
 Everything being now ready, we waited im- 
 patiently for nightfall. The great red sun at last 
 slipped down behind the western range, and an 
 hour later we were on our way, Hidalgo leading 
 the little burro, across whose pack-saddle our 
 precious freight had been laid and tightly se- 
 cured with rope. Slowly but steadily we 
 
WE SAW, FAR BEHIND US, LIKE PIN-HOLES 
 POINTS OF FIRE" 
 
 TWO TWINKLING 
 
In Prison and Out 287 
 
 plodded along in the darkness, until presently 
 Hidalgo, who had been looking back, exclaimed : 
 
 " Two fires, sefiores ! " 
 
 Turning in our saddles, we saw, far behind us, 
 like pin-holes in the black curtain of night, two 
 twinkling points of fire. 
 
 " Good ! " cried Stock. " Two fires this time. 
 That must mean that we have gone north. So 
 here is where we turn off. Lead the way, 
 Hidalgo ; you are more likely to find the castle 
 in the dark than we are." 
 
 In course of time we reached the castle, passed 
 behind it, and made our way southward over 
 the steep, rough mountain spurs. Our progress 
 through the dark woods, however, was so very 
 slow that we were still a long way short of the 
 pass when the reddening of the sky proclaimed 
 that daylight was coming ; so, the little burro 
 showing evident signs that she had carried her 
 load far enough for one day, we went into camp 
 in the first likely spot we came to — a secluded 
 hollow set about with solemn ranks of tree- 
 trunks. 
 
 Nothing occurred to disturb us, and a little 
 after noon that day we were about to resume our 
 journey when the sudden snapping of a dead 
 
288 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 stick made us all turn. A moment later there 
 emerged from among the trees a short, fat, pom- 
 pous-looking little man — a Mexican — who, ad- 
 vancing towards us, stopped at about six feet 
 distance, took off" his hat with a flourish, and 
 said, in unexpectedly good English ; 
 
 " Gentlemen, good-morning. I am Don 
 Alonzo Garcia, alcalde of Casa Grande. It is 
 my painful duty as an officer of the law to arrest 
 you on the charge of attempting to make away 
 with stolen property." 
 
 " What ! " shouted Stock, with such suddenness 
 that the little man bounced backwards several 
 feet, as though a fire-cracker had been set off 
 under his nose. 
 
 By way of reply, he uttered a call, patting his 
 mouth with his hand after the manner of the 
 Indians, and in response there issued from 
 among the trees about us twelve horsemen — 
 hard, wiry, brown-faced fellows, all armed with 
 guns of various kinds and ages. At a sign from 
 the alcalde they stopped and sat, stiff and silent, 
 like a circle of bronze statues. 
 
 The alcalde, whose dignity had been some- 
 what jolted by Stock's suddenness, now recov- 
 ered himself, and waving his hands, first to the 
 
In Prison and Out 289 
 
 right and then to the left, to call our attention 
 to the force at his disposal, he again addressed 
 us with surprising fluency and precision of lan- 
 guage. 
 
 " You will observe, gentlemen," said he, " that 
 resistance is out of the question. I must ask 
 you, therefore, to be good enough to accompany 
 me quietly to the house of Mr. James Latimer, 
 the gentleman who brings this charge against 
 you, when I have no doubt the matter will be 
 soon satisfactorily arranged and you will be at 
 liberty to resume the journey which it has been 
 my misfortune as an officer of the law to inter- 
 rupt." 
 
 Stock cast a glance around. Irrespective of 
 our promise to the padre, it was plain that we 
 could not resist if we would. It was equally 
 plain that we could not run. With a glance at 
 me, therefore, and a shrug of his shoulders, as 
 much as to say, " No help for it, Jamie," he re- 
 plied, " Very well, Senor Alcalde, we'll come." 
 
 The little man appeared to be much relieved 
 by this decision. He bustled about arranging 
 the procession, and soon the cavalcade was on 
 the march. Passing through the town of Casa 
 Grande, whose inhabitants all came out to stare 
 
290 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 at us, we arrived about sunset at Mr. Latimer's 
 house, a large adobe building consisting of sev- 
 eral connected rooms set around three sides of 
 a square, the remaining side, which faced the 
 sand-hills, being left vacant. 
 
 A door in one of the rooms which formed the 
 western wing was thrown open and we were re- 
 quested to enter. For a moment we hesitated, 
 but a glance at the number of our captors con- 
 vincing us that we could not help ourselves, we 
 stepped across the threshold, when the door was 
 instantly shut and locked on the outside. 
 
 The room in which we found ourselves had 
 been evidently for a long time disused, for in one 
 place the cedar boughs and much of the soil of 
 which the roof was composed had fallen in, 
 leaving a gap through which the fading day- 
 light came — the only place where it could come 
 in when the door was shut. It seemed like a 
 pretty safe prison, for the walls were three feet 
 thick and very high. 
 
 For the first few minutes we stood by the 
 door, listening. We heard the tramp of the 
 horses as the escort rode off to the stables behind 
 the house, and after that all was silent. 
 
 " Well, Stock," said I, " what do you think of 
 
In Prison and Out 291 
 
 it? It looks as though Mr. Latimer were in a 
 fair way to win the game. What, do you sup- 
 pose, will be his next move?" 
 
 " It is my belief," replied Stock, " that our ar- 
 rest is all part of a scheme of Mr. Latimer's, and 
 now that he has the treasure in his hands, I ex- 
 pect he will skip out after dark for parts un- 
 known, and to-morrow, when he is safe away, 
 we shall be let out." 
 
 " That's about it, I expect. I wonder if the 
 padre foresaw this state of affairs. He seemed 
 very confident, but it looks as though his infalli- 
 ble plan had missed fire." 
 
 '* He must have anticipated something of the 
 sort," replied my partner. " And though it cer- 
 tainly does look as if we had lost the game, it is 
 my belief that the padre still has a trump card 
 up his sleeve. Whether he has or not, though, 
 we may as well have a try at stealing back the 
 treasure ourselves if Mr. Latimer will only wait 
 here until it gets a little darker." 
 
 '' I don't see how we are to get a chance," 
 said I. 
 
 " Well, as soon as it gets dark," my partner 
 began, " we'll see if we can't get out " 
 
 " How ? " I interjected. 
 
292 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 " Through that hole up there," pointing to 
 the gap in the roof. 
 
 " How ? " I asked again. 
 
 In whispered tones my partner explained his 
 plan, and though I felt rather doubtful of its 
 practicability, it was with a good deal of im- 
 patience that I waited for the darkness to give 
 us an opportunity to put it to the test. 
 
 A long period of waiting ensued, our room 
 grew more and more gloomy, until at length, 
 looking up through the hole in the roof, we saw 
 a star or two glinting in the sky. 
 
 " Now," said Stock, " let us make a try." 
 
 Taking his stand upon the heap of boughs 
 and earth which had fallen from above, he 
 placed his hands against the wall, and turning 
 to me, said : 
 
 " Now, Jamie, climb up and stand upon my 
 shoulders, and then, Hidalgo, you climb up too 
 and see if you can reach the top of the wall." 
 
 With some trouble I clambered up, when, as 
 soon as I had secured a firm stand, the active 
 little Mexican scrambled up and stood erect 
 upon my shoulders. He had not been there a 
 moment, however, when he looked down and 
 whispered: 
 
In Prison and Out 293 
 
 " I cannot reach, senor. I am one foot too 
 little." 
 
 " Stand steady, then," replied Stock. " Set 
 your feet in my hands, Jamie. Now then, 
 steady ! " 
 
 With that, while Hidalgo and I clawed at the 
 wall, my muscular partner, by main strength, 
 lifted us both to arm's length above his head — 
 a feat which even I, who knew him so well, 
 had never supposed he could perform. The 
 next instant the pressure was removed from my 
 shoulders, Hidalgo said softly, " All right, 
 seiior," and Stock lowered me to the ground 
 again. 
 
 " Anybody about, Hidalgo?" asked he of the 
 boy, who was lying flat on the top of the wall. 
 
 " I see only Mr. Latimer, senor. He sit in 
 his room with the door open. He talk very 
 loud with somebody ; I think it is the alcalde. 
 It seem to me they are a good bit squabble- 
 some." 
 
 " Good ! Let them squabble. When thieves 
 fall out, honest men ma}^ have a chance to come 
 by their own. Can you drop from the wall, 
 Hidalgo, without hurting yourself?" 
 
 " Oh, I drop all right, seiior," replied the boy. 
 
294 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 ** Very well, then. Don't make any more 
 noise than you can help." 
 
 For answer, Hidalgo waved his hand and 
 vanished. There was a soft thud outside, and 
 the next moment we heard the rusty key slowly 
 turned in the rusty lock, the door opened and 
 in popped the little Mexican. 
 
 '* Well done," said Stock. " Did they hear 
 you?" 
 
 " No, senor ; thej^ make too much noise them- 
 selves ; they talk very loud and bang the table." 
 
 Stock pushed the door a little way open and 
 we both peeped out. One room at the far end 
 of the courtyard was lighted by a lamp, and 
 through the open doorway we could see Mr. 
 Latimer seated before his desk with his back to 
 us. Presently he half turned in his chair, and 
 shaking his finger in a threatening manner, 
 made some very emphatic remark to an in- 
 visible companion. Instantly the shadow of 
 the alcade appeared upon the window-curtain. 
 We could hear him bawling some angry reply, 
 while he accompanied his remarks with violent 
 gesticulations. Then ensued a great racket, 
 both talking at once at the tops of their voices, 
 one thumping his desk and the other a table. 
 
In Prison and Out 295 
 
 Suddenly Mr. Latimer sprang from his chair, 
 strode to the door, and leaning out, shouted, 
 " Aaron ! " 
 
 A door on that side of the courtyard opposite 
 to us opened and Aaron came running to the 
 call. He bounced into the room, and the next 
 moment out tumbled the poor little alcalde, 
 struggling in vain in the grasp of the big negro. 
 Mr. Latimer ran and opened a door on our side 
 of the courtyard, into the room the alcalde was 
 bundled, and the door was shut and locked. 
 
 Master and man returned to their respective 
 quarters ; but just as Aaron was closing his 
 door, Mr. Latimer called him back. 
 
 " Aaron," said he, loud enough for us to hear, 
 " we may as well be getting off. Go and saddle 
 your horse and mine, and put a pack-saddle on 
 The Major ; that little burro is no good. And, 
 Aaron, tell The Fox to feed the alcalde and the 
 boys and let them out as early as he likes in the 
 morning." 
 
 " Very good, sah," replied Aaron ; and so say- 
 ing he marched out of the courtyard, a cheerful 
 grin overspreading his countenance as he heard 
 the imprisoned alcalde set up a great shouting 
 and banging with his fists upon the door. 
 
296 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 Mr, Latimer, who had been about to enter his 
 own room, stopped, considered a moment, and 
 then, walking back, gave one heavy thump 
 upon the prisoner's door. 
 
 "Garcia," he called out, "stop that noise! 
 Now, look here : if you like to behave yourself 
 I'll let you out. I'm not going to share the spoils 
 with you, or any ridiculous thing of that sort, so 
 you needn't think it, but I'm still ready to give 
 you the twenty dollars I promised you in the 
 first place. Now, what do you say ? Take your 
 choice. Come out and be reasonable, or stay 
 where you are." 
 
 We could not hear the answer, but presumably 
 it was favorable, for Mr. Latimer opened the door 
 and stood leaning forward, his head inside the 
 room, one hand on the door-post and the other 
 holding the edge of the door. 
 
 Here was our chance ! Out leaped Stock, 
 ran silently up the earth-floored courtyard, 
 and coming up behind Mr. Latimer, gave 
 him a vigorous boost which sent him flying 
 into the dark room. In two strides he en- 
 countered the little alcalde, whom he clasped 
 violently around the neck, and down they both 
 went in a heap ! 
 
In Prison and Out 297 
 
 Stock slapped to the door, locked it, and flung 
 away the key. 
 
 " The horses ! The horses ! " he called eagerly 
 but softly to us, and then turned and ran to- 
 wards Mr. Latimer's room ; while Hidalgo and I 
 bolted out of the yard. 
 
 Our horses and the little burro were still 
 standing tied to the hitching-pole, and by the 
 time we had loosed them, out came Stock with 
 the saddle-bags over his shoulder. The bags 
 were flung across the burro's back — there was no 
 time to tie them — and away we went for Obispo, 
 as quickly and as quietly as we could ; our pro- 
 ceedings accelerated by a terriffic banging and 
 shouting from the upper end of the courtyard. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 The Padre's Little Trap 
 
 THE little burro was hustled along at her best 
 pace, and we had made the greater part of a 
 mile, when the banging and shouting behind us, 
 which up to this time had continued without in- 
 termission, suddenly ceased. For a couple of 
 minutes all was silent, and then there came a 
 renewed banging, much louder and more dis- 
 tinct than before. We looked at each other in- 
 quiringly. 
 
 " It is Aaron," remarked Hidalgo. " He 
 break in the door with an axe." 
 
 "That's it," cried Stock. "Get up, old 
 lady ! " 
 
 The poor little burro, much against her will, 
 was forced into a shuffling run, and we had 
 made another half-mile perhaps, when Hidalgo, 
 who had been looking back, said quietly : 
 
 " Some one come." 
 
 Truly some one did come — like a hurricane. 
 It was Aaron ; and a bold horseman he was to 
 ride at such a reckless pace in the darkness. 
 298 
 
The Padre's Little Trap 299 
 
 Within a few seconds after we first got sight of 
 him he had caught up with us. Galloping past 
 us, he very skilfully whirled his horse round 
 and dragged him back upon his haunches 
 just under our horses' noses. It was finely 
 done. 
 
 The little burro, of course, having so excellent 
 an excuse, instantly stopped ; but Stock, springing 
 from the saddle, dashed to the front and hitting 
 Aaron's horse a sounding smack, caused it to 
 jump forward, clearing the course again for us. 
 At this, however, Aaron himself leaped to the 
 ground and ran forward, evidently with the in- 
 tention of seizing either the burro or the saddle- 
 bags ; seeing which. Stock grasped him by the 
 belt as he passed and whirled him away, with 
 such force that after taking half a dozen gigan- 
 tic strides in a vain effort to save himself, he at 
 last fell upon his hands and knees in the sand. 
 
 He was up again in a moment, however, and 
 rushed at Stock, thinking to bear him down by 
 his superior weight. But never did Mr. 
 Latimer's faithful servitor make a greater mis- 
 take. Aaron was by far the strongest man in all 
 that part of the country ; for years he had been 
 accustomed to see everybody give way before 
 
300 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 him. Immense therefore was his astonishment 
 when Stock, by some wrestler's trick unknown 
 to me — or Aaron — ducked under his arms, 
 clasped him around the thighs, and with one 
 vigorous heave pitched him clean over his 
 shoulder. With whirling arms the ponderous 
 negro went flying through the air, landing flat 
 upon his back with a thud and a grunt, every 
 atom of breath jolted out of his body. 
 
 *' Go on ! " roared Stock ; and on we went ; the 
 little burro, urged with persuasive pokes, scut- 
 tling along as she had seldom scuttled before. 
 
 We had gained a couple of hundred yards, 
 perhaps, when, looking back, we saw that Aaron 
 was up again, had caught his horse and was 
 after us once more. It was in vain that Stock 
 interposed himself between us and our pursuer. 
 Aaron rode directly at him and he was forced 
 to jump aside to avoid being ridden down. 
 Though he grasped at the bridle as the horse 
 passed, the skilful cowman deftly avoided him 
 and dashing in among us, ranged up alongside 
 the burro, when, hardly checking his speed, he 
 cast himself from the saddle, grasped the donkey 
 around her neck and pushed her round until 
 she faced the wrong way. 
 
The Padre's Little Trap 301 
 
 111 rushed Stock and attempted to pull him 
 away ; but Aaron, with his knees tucked up and 
 his head tucked down, had such a firm hold 
 that nothing less than a pair of draft-horses 
 pulling in opposite directions could have torn 
 loose his grasp. 
 
 Seeing this, and noticing also that Aaron, 
 with his head tucked down, could not see what 
 was going on behind him, Stock quietly lifted 
 the saddle-bags from the burro's back, hoisted 
 them upon his own horse, and away we silently 
 slipped, leaving the unsuspecting negro ridicu- 
 lously embracing the ancient donkey, quite un- 
 aware that the longer he stood there the farther 
 he was being left behind. 
 
 But though Aaron had been out-generaled, 
 he had, as a matter of fact, accomplished the 
 object with which he had been sent forward, 
 namely, to delay our progress until Mr. Latimer 
 himself could overtake us. In vain we urged 
 our horses onward ; Stock on foot running be- 
 side his own pony, holding on by the stirrup- 
 leather. We had not gone far ere we heard be- 
 hind us the thunder of galloping horses, and 
 within five minutes after we had got clear of 
 Aaron we found ourselves headed off and sur- 
 
302 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 rounded by Mr. Latimer and his barefooted 
 squad of armed cowmen. There was nothing 
 for it but to give in, and Stock, who during his 
 little " scrap " with Aaron had forgotten the 
 padre's doctrine of non-resistance, now be- 
 thought himself of it once more, and shoving 
 his hands deep into his pockets with an angry 
 grunt, he stood frowning at our persistent 
 enemy. 
 
 Mr. Latimer himself seemed to have lost some 
 of his wonted urbanity. Perhaps he felt hurt 
 at having been boosted into the dark room with 
 such force and suddenness ; for it must be con- 
 fessed that Stock had not been exactly gentle, 
 and a thump on the back, even from his open 
 palm, was no joke. Whatever the cause, Mr. 
 Latimer seemed rather put out. 
 
 '' Now, young fellow," said he, " we've had 
 enough of this. I dare say you think yourself 
 justified by the circumstances, but after the 
 consideration I have shown you, allow me to 
 say that your own conduct has been somewhat 
 rough, not to say unmannerly." 
 
 This aspersion of his good manners aroused 
 Stock's ire. 
 
 '' Perhaps I was a little rough," said he ; *' but 
 
The Padre's Little Trap 303 
 
 then I've never had any dealings before with a 
 gentlemanly robber." 
 
 " Robber ! " exclaimed Mr. Latimer. " Come, 
 come, that won't do. I can make allowances for 
 you, but before you talk of robbers you had bet- 
 ter remember that there is a charge of robbery 
 still hanging over yourself. If I should send 
 you back to the alcalde you might find it diffi- 
 cult to clear yourself — he is a vengeful little 
 man. Do you know that when you pushed me 
 through that doorway just now I knocked the 
 alcalde over backwards and nearly broke his 
 skull against the floor ? He is persuaded that 
 his head is cracked, and I left him five minutes 
 ago holding the pieces together with both 
 hands." 
 
 At the recollection Mr. Latimer laughed in 
 spite of himself All his good humor returned 
 in a moment, and in his accustomed pleasant 
 way he resumed : " But I am not vindictive, 
 and I have no intention of sending you back. 
 You may go on to Obispo as soon as you like. 
 For myself, I am southward bound — and it is 
 high time I started. Aaron ! You may as well 
 go ahead at once." 
 
 Aaron, who had rejoined the party, thereupon 
 
304 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 set off, leading a pack-horse across whose back 
 the saddle-bags had been placed. With pro- 
 found misgivings we watched his departure, for, 
 in spite of the padre's assurance to the contrary, 
 we could not avoid the conviction that this 
 time, surely, we had lost Don Blanco's treasure 
 for good and all. 
 
 Mr. Latimer was evidently of the same 
 opinion. 
 
 " Well, boys," said he, " I'll be saying * good- 
 bye.' I doubt if we shall ever meet again. 
 Give my kind regards to my excellent old 
 friend, the padre, and tell him that the next 
 time he attempts to outwit a man of my experi- 
 ence he will do well to select sharper tools. 
 And now — Adios.^^ 
 
 All this time Stock had been fuming and 
 chafing, but at this point his temper suddenly 
 boiled over. As Mr. Latimer waved his hand 
 to us, Stock shook his fist back at him and 
 cried angrily : 
 
 " You may think you've seen the last of us, 
 but you'd better not make too sure of that, Mr. 
 James Latimer White ! " 
 
 "What's that?" cried Mr. Latimer, whirling 
 his horse round. 
 
The Padre's Little Trap 305 
 
 For a moment I feared there was going to be 
 trouble, but with admirable self-command our 
 adversary recovered himself and nodding, said : 
 
 " Many thanks for your warning. Now I 
 know we shan't meet again. Good-bye." 
 
 With that he turned his horse once more and 
 galloped away into the night ; while we, under 
 escort of the cowmen, rode on to Obispo, where 
 at the entrance of the village the ragamuffin 
 crew turned and left us. 
 
 We had hardly had time to dismount when 
 the padre's door flew open and out came the 
 padre himself. At sight of the old man's kindly 
 face the atmosphere seemed to clear ; there came 
 over us again the old unreasoning feeling that 
 in spite of appearances things were somehow 
 going to be all right yet. 
 
 "All safe and sound, boys?" cried our old 
 friend, as he came trotting down his garden 
 path with hands stretched out to welcome us. 
 
 " All safe and sound, sir, thank you," we both 
 replied. 
 
 "And the saddle-bags?" 
 
 " Lost, sir. Mr. Latimer got them away from 
 us about an hour ago and has gone off south- 
 ward with them." 
 
3o6 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 " Good ! " exclaimed the padre, much to our 
 astonishment ; for to us it seemed that the 
 proper word was " bad." 
 
 '' Come in," he continued. '* Come in. Jose, 
 call Gonsalvo to take the horses and come in 
 too. Now, then, come along at once." 
 
 While we sat waiting for the supper of which 
 we stood so much in need, we related to the 
 padre all the details of our late adventure. 
 The old gentleman sat listening, with a queer 
 expression on his face, nodding his head and 
 sometimes saying, " Ha, ha," and sometimes, 
 " Yes, yes," until we had finished, when he re- 
 marked : 
 
 " So Mr. Latimer has got clear away with the 
 saddle-bags, has he ? And doubtless it appears 
 to you that Bertrand White's treasure has gone 
 for good." 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Stock. " It does look so 
 to us." 
 
 The padre laughed quietly. " And Mr. 
 Latimer recommends me to employ sharper 
 tools next time, does he? " he asked. " I think, 
 do you know, — I rather think — that our clever 
 friend has been a little too self-confident ; that 
 he will yet find the tools to have been quite 
 
The Padre's Little Trap 307 
 
 sharp enough for him to cut his fingers on. 
 Would it surprise you," he went on, " if I told 
 you that things have happened just about as I 
 expected they would? And, moreover, that 
 Bertrand White's treasure is in no danger from 
 Mr. Latimer? I see it would." 
 
 There was plainly no need for a reply. Our 
 blank faces were assurance enough. 
 
 '' Well, well," he continued, " it is not fair to 
 keep you in suspense any longer, so I will tell 
 you. Do you remember, Jamie, the morning 
 after you brought the quicksilver from the 
 castle, remarking that I did not seem to have 
 slept well? You were quite right: I had not 
 slept at all ; I had spent what was left of the 
 night in arranging my little trap for Mr. 
 Latimer. Can't you guess what it was ? " 
 
 We shook our heads, for even yet we had no 
 inkling of the truth. 
 
 " And you, Stock," he went on, "do you re- 
 member making the remark that the quick- 
 silver-jars were ' plum full ' ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, I remember." 
 
 " It was that remark which gave me my idea. 
 I knew that if the jars were full they must weigh 
 about the same as the jars of gold, which were 
 
308 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 only two-thirds full ; so, while you slept that 
 night, I took the jars of gold out of the saddle- 
 bags and in their place sewed in the jars of 
 quicksilver. The jars of gold are standing 
 there " — pointing with his finger — " under that 
 mat by the fireplace ; the jars of quicksilver 
 are now on their way southward — to Old 
 Mexico, I expect — with Mr. Latimer." 
 
 When at last we understood the padre's 
 simple and beautiful plan, we both — Stock in 
 particular— went off into such ecstasies of 
 laughter and applause, that the wrinkled old 
 cook came running in from the kitchen to see 
 what was the matter. This calmed us down a 
 little, and though every now and then we would 
 burst forth afresh at the thought of Mr. Latimer 
 hurrying away with his comparatively worthless 
 prize, we were able to continue our conversation 
 with some degree of decorum. 
 
 "So, that, sir," said Stock, ''was why you 
 were so confident that the gold would be safe 
 from Mr. Latimer." 
 
 " Exactly," replied the padre. 
 
 " And that was why we ourselves were kept 
 in the dark — so that nothing in our actions 
 might arouse his suspicions." 
 
The Padre's Little Trap 309 
 
 " Exactly again. And very well it succeeded. 
 If anything would make his assurance doubly 
 sure that the gold was in those saddle-bags, your 
 last attempt to steal back the ' treasure ' would 
 do it." 
 
 " That is true," Stock assented. '' My ! But 
 I should like to be on hand when he digs the 
 clay out of the mouths of the jars and finds there 
 is nothing but quicksilver underneath ! " 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " said the charitable old 
 padre. " It will be a dreadful disappoint- 
 ment." 
 
 Being ourselves, I confess, incapable of wish- 
 ing that Mr. Latimer might be anything but 
 disappointed, we held our peace ; and the supper 
 luckily coming in at that moment, our thoughts 
 were diverted into another channel. 
 
 " I wish," said our host, presently, " that you 
 might stay with me a day or two to rest, but I 
 fear it would not do. It will be well if you start 
 again to-night. I do not anticipate any further 
 trouble, but it is as well to be cautious." 
 
 To this we agreed, and accordingly, after tak- 
 ing a reluctant and affectionate leave of our old 
 friend, with repeated promises to come back 
 some day — a promise which we have faithfully 
 
3IO Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 kept once every year since — we set out for the 
 last time from the little village of Obispo. 
 
 There is no need to go into the details of our 
 journey ; it is enough to say that we met with 
 no interference on the way, and that late on the 
 evening of the fourth day Stock hoisted our 
 precious burden from the back of the little burro 
 and carried it into the sitting-room at the ranch. 
 
 My father, with our ready consent, took 
 charge of the business of disposing of the gold, 
 and one day, about three weeks later, he drove 
 home from town with the gratifying intelligence 
 that the sum of nearly forty-four thousand dol- 
 lars had been deposited to the credit of " Aunt 
 Catherine." 
 
 Stock's delight at the outcome of the whole 
 affair was without bounds ; nor was it dimin- 
 ished when Miss Seabright wrote, insisting that 
 he and I ought to have some share in the money. 
 This we both absolutel}'' declined. For my part, 
 it went against the grain to accept payment 
 under the circumstances ; while, as for Stock, as 
 he wrote back, the pleasure it gave him to have 
 been able to make a return of some sort for the 
 kindness he had received at her hands was com- 
 pensation enough, and more too. 
 
The Padre's Little Trap 3 1 1 
 
 As Miss Seabright did not insist farther, we 
 supposed that the matter was settled ; but in 
 this we were mistaken — she was only biding her 
 time. 
 
 Stock's twenty-first birthday came a little 
 more than three years later, and mine ten days 
 after his, the joint event being celebrated by a 
 grand dinner at the ranch. It was after dinner, 
 while we were still sitting over the coffee, that 
 my father, producing a document from his 
 pocket, said : 
 
 " Boys, here is a birthday present for you from 
 Miss Catherine and myself. Miss Catherine 
 furnished half the money, leaving it to me to 
 buy the place ; a commission I was very pleased 
 to undertake. I now make it over to you. 
 This is the deed." 
 
 The place in question was the Swift Creek 
 ranch, a beautiful tract of land lying immedi- 
 ately west of the home place. The ranch, to- 
 gether with three thousand head of sheep, was 
 made over to Stock and me, jointly. 
 
 "You will have to accept it. Stock," said my 
 mother. " Miss Catherine has written to me, ask- 
 ing me to see that you do. You must remember 
 that you have done her a great service, and you 
 
312 Dale and Fraser, Sheepmen 
 
 must not deprive her of the pleasure of making 
 you some return. You will have to accept." 
 
 As my father was of the same opinion, Stock 
 did accept ; and thus it was that the firm of 
 Dale and Fraser, sheepmen, came into existence. 
 
 We have run the place now for some years, 
 and by hard work, close watchfulness and strict 
 economy we have done very well. Moreover, 
 my father, deciding that he had been in the 
 business long enough, last year turned over to 
 us the management of his place, to be worked on 
 shares ; so now we run the two places as one. 
 
 We have of our own and of my father's nearly 
 twenty thousand sheep, with room for as many 
 more, requiring a good many Mexican herders 
 to look after them ; so many, in fact, that we 
 employ an overseer to look after the herders. 
 He is a brisk little man, faithful, careful and 
 competent, and is held in profound respect by 
 his compatriots, among whom he is known as 
 Senor Don Jose Maria Sandoval. With Stock 
 and me, however, he still goes by the familiar, 
 time-honored title of " Hidalgo." 
 
 THE END 
 
By Everett T. Tomlinson 
 
 War of the 
 Revolution Series 
 
 Each Volume Fully Illustrated 
 Price, $1.50 per volume 
 
 Every boy who has ever read these his- 
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 heroes in each of the books are resourceful 
 and devoted to the best interests of their 
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 stories has much to look forward to. 
 
 The series consists of four volumes: — 
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 Three Young Continentals. A story of the 
 
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 The set of four volumes in a box. Price, $6.00 
 
By Everett T. Tomlinson 
 
 Author of the " War of the Revolution Series " 
 
 "The Colonial Series" 
 
 With Flintlock and Fife 
 
 A STORY OF THE FRENCH AND INDIAN 
 WARS AND THE BATTLE OF LAKE GEORGE 
 
 IN I7S5- 3S6 PP- 
 The hardships, privations and struggles through which the 
 early colonists passed are graphically described in this story. 
 Dr. Tomlinson's boys are full of life and the experiences 
 which they encounter and the services which they render to 
 their country are thrilling and most praiseworthy. 
 
 The Fort in the Forest 
 
 THE STORY OF THE FALL OF FORT WILLIAM 
 HENRY IN 1755. 341pp. 
 This volume takes its readers through the French and 
 Indian Wars and is full of the adventurous life of the times. 
 It covers the many early engagements which took place dur- 
 ing this period and which proved to be the foundation stones 
 upon which was built the spirit of 1775. 
 
 A Soldier of the Wilderness 
 
 A STORY OF ABERCROMBIE'S DEFEAT AND 
 THE FALL OF FORT FRONTENAC IN 1758. 
 The third volume in the " Colonial Series." 357 pp. 
 Generals Abercrombie Howe, Putnam, and Montcalm, 
 together with the leaders of those times, are the characters 
 introduced, and all together it makes a stirring story of patri- 
 otism and adventure. 
 
 The Young Rangers 
 
 A STORY OF THE CONQUEST OF CANADA. 
 351 pp. The fourth and concluding volume in the "Colo- 
 nial Series." 
 It carries the history of our country down to the overthrow 
 of the French. It is not only the stoiy of Wolfe and his 
 famous assault upon the citadel of Quebec, but it also takes 
 up the history anjund Ticonderoga and Crown Point. 
 Each Volume is Fully Illustrated. Price, $1.50 
 (The set in a box, $6.00) 
 
 W. A. WILDE COMPANY 
 
 Boston and Chicago 
 
By William Drysdale 
 
 United States Government 
 
 s 
 
 eries 
 
 Every boy Wants to k^ow how our government is run, and to be 
 a good and useful citizen ought to know. The books of this series 
 are filled with the experiences of Mr. T>rysdale 's boys, who Work up 
 through the various positions in the Treasury and Stale Departments. 
 
 The Treasury Club 
 
 A STORY OF THE UNITED STATES TREASURY 
 DEPARTMENT. 330 pp. 
 
 To any boy interested in our national govern- 
 ment, this volume will appeal, for it treats of the 
 workings of our Treasury Department. It is in 
 Mr. Drysdale's happiest vein. 
 
 Ihe Young Consul 
 
 A STORY OF THE STATE DEPARTMENT. 
 356 pp. 
 
 This story takes up the State Department and 
 presents an accurate and interesting picture of the 
 consular service. 
 
 CadeL Standlsh of the St>. Louis 
 
 A STORY OF THE SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR. 
 352 pp. 
 
 A stor}^ of an American boy to whom the Spanish 
 War brought novel and exciting experiences, taking 
 part in the cable cutting off Guantanamo, the first 
 exploit in which the great ' ' merchant cruiser ' ' 
 distinguished herself. 
 
 Each Volume Fully Illustrated. Price, $1.50 
 
 W. A. WILDE COMPANY 
 
 Boston and Chicago 
 
^y William Drysdale 
 
 The Famous 
 
 ''Brain and Brawn" Series 
 
 ^o bo\) should grow up without reading these books 
 
 The Young Reporter 
 
 A STORY OF PRINTING HOUSE SQUARE. 300 pp. 
 
 A genuine boy.s' book for genuine boys. Full of 
 life, clean, clear cut and inspiring. It will enlist the 
 interest of every stirring and wide-awake boy. 
 
 lEe Fast. Mail 
 
 THE STORY OF A TRAIN BOY. 328 pp. 
 The story of the adventures of a boy who fought 
 his way to success with clean grit and good sense, 
 accomplishing what is within the power of every 
 American boy if he sets about it. It is full of move- 
 ment, sound in sentiment, and wholesome in 
 character. 
 
 Ihe Beach Patrol 
 
 A STORY OF THE LIFE-SAVING SERVICE. 318pp. 
 
 A spirited picture of the labors and dangers to 
 which members of the life-saving service are ex- 
 posed and which few realize. 
 
 The Young Supercargo 
 
 A STORY OF THE MERCHANT MARINE. 352 pp. 
 
 This book has all of the interest of "Oliver 
 Optic's" books, ^\^th none of their improbabiUties. 
 
 The Volumes are Fully Illustrated. Price, $1.50 each. 
 (The set in a box, $6.00) 
 
 W. A. WILDE COMPANY 
 
 Boston and Chicago 
 
Famous Historical Sea Stories 
 
 By JAMES OTIS 
 
 This collection of sea stories has been read by thousands of boys and 
 girls. They are full of action, and the historical facts on which the experi- 
 ences are based are reliable and important as being true pictures of the 
 times. Every young reader will find great interest and profit in them. 
 
 WITH PERRY ON LAKE ERIE 
 
 A tale of 1812. 307 pp. 
 The famous battle of Lake Erie is one of the most thrilling inci- 
 dents in our early history, and meant much in the development of 
 our country. This story covers this period — the incidents leading 
 up to it, and many of the details of the battle itself. It is a happy 
 union of facts and fiction. 
 
 WITH PICEBLE AT TRIPOLI 
 
 A story of " Old Ironsides" and the Tripolitan war. 349 pp. 
 The mere mention of "Old Ironsides" gives a thrill of interest, 
 and both young and old will enjoy the story of this famous frigate's 
 part in the war against Tripoli. 
 
 WITH POR.TER. IN THE ESSEX 
 
 A story of Porter's famous cruise in Southern waters during 
 the war of 1 812. 344 pages. 
 In comparison with the famous voyage of the U. S. Battleship 
 " Oregon " around Cape Horn, this story of Admiral Porter and his 
 " Essex " in 1812, is most interesting. It shows the many hardships 
 and privations which were endured during the earlier period as well 
 as the important part played by the " Essex " in the struggle for 
 supremacy of the sea. 
 
 THE CRUISE OF THE ENTERPRISE 
 
 Being the story of the struggle and defeat of the French 
 
 privateering expeditions against the United States in 1799. 
 
 359 pp. 
 
 The attacks made by French privateers on our merchant marine 
 
 resulted in the fitting out of American privateers, and it is on board 
 
 one of these vessels that the scenes of this story are laid. It is just 
 
 the book that the average boy will thoroughly enjoy. 
 
 WITH RODGERS ON THE "PRESIDENT" 
 
 The story of the cruise wherein the flagship fired the first 
 hostile shot in the war with Great Britain for the rights of 
 American seamen. 348 pp. 
 Throughout this story one can easily imagine what life on a 
 United States frigate was at that time ; the dangers attending it, and 
 the spirit which manifested itself when patriotism was needed. 
 EACH VOLUME FULLY ILLUSTRATED. Price, $1.50. 
 
 W. A. WILDE COMPANY 
 
 Boston and Chicago 
 
Fighting Under 
 
 the Southern Cross. 
 
 A Story of the Chile-Peruvian War. 
 
 BY 
 
 CLAUDE H. WETMORE. 
 
 335 pages. Illustrated. i2mo. Cloth, $1.50. 
 
 CONTAINING PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY 
 AND MAP OF CALLAO BAY 
 
 This is one of the best stories for boys that has been issued, and 
 with great pleasure we heartily recommend it. — Observer. 
 
 This story is full of thrilling interest and dramatic power. The 
 many picturesque descriptions give a real portrayal of the country 
 and its people.— ^(7oi; News. 
 
 This volume is so real that one imagines he is in the centre of 
 action. This doubtless is due to the author's thorough acquaintance 
 with the customs and conditions of these countries.— 5/. Louis Star. 
 
 Just now when there are so many reminders of the differences 
 existing between the South American States, and while the influ- 
 ence of the Pan-American Congress in Mexico is being so strongly 
 felt, this book is very timely. It is a very vivid picture of the war 
 between Chile and Peru in 1879, and a portrayal of the customs and 
 manners of these states that is extremely interesting, and that throws 
 much light on present problems.— C5r/rf;aw Endeavor World. 
 
 The bitter war of conquest waged by Chile against Peru has never 
 been given any popular presentation until now. The author is a 
 traveler who has covered all of South America and was a resident of 
 Peru when the war broke out. His picture of that period is absorb- 
 ingly interesting, and the promised sequel of this volume will be 
 awaited with great eagerness. — The Interior. 
 
 W. A. WILDE COMPANY, Boston and Chicago. 
 
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