The Big Corral, page 9
He did it, a best good enough to control and gradually abate the fever. With Bud Farris he had better luck. He treated both eyes, and announced that Bud would be able to see out of one of them again.
But as the fever abated, the Thrush showed scant improvement. She was very weak, as the doctor had prophesied, gripped by an apathy which amounted to languor. She knew Devero now, and was grateful, but she seemed to take no interest in life or in living. Worried, Devero consulted the doctor, who confessed to perturbation on his own part.
“Where’s she from?” he demanded.
“She came out here from St. Louis.”
“Then you better get her back there,” the doctor advised. “I don’t know just what’s been wrong with her—some sort of a fever she picked up somewhere, and it’s kind of affected the mind as well as the body. What I mean is, it dragged her down till she’s plumb low, and it’ll take rest and a long time to build her up. And some sort of a change, one that’s pleasant, to kind of jar her out of this mood and make her want to get well again. Like seeing old friends and places she knew.
“Maybe it won’t do any good to take her back there,” he added honestly. “I don’t know. But they’ve got good doctors there—better’n I am. And it could have a good effect.” He grinned faintly.
“It’s an old trick with my profession, when we don’t know what to do. Recommendin’ a change of scenery or climate. If they live, we can take the credit. If a patient dies, we done the best we could. Not that I figure there’s any danger of her dyin’. you understand. But she ain’t getting along the way she should.”
Devero understood. This was a mental illness added to the physical, as the doctor had said. A lost interest in life, due, he figured, to shock and disillusion.
Winter was in full control of the land now. Holding a heyday of white carnival. There was work which should be done, back on his own spread, but he gave no thought to that. They took the train again, this time for St. Louis.
- 15 -
THE THOUSAND longhorns which had belonged to Jim Mc-Lane reached town as the sun was slanting across Texas, having already rolled across half a continent. The herd had started at dawn, according to orders, and having been kept close herded for weeks, they were impatient to push ahead fast. Here at the town the rest of North’s big crew joined them. The drive had begun.
Noland Doll rode in silence. Never a talkative man except in rare streaks, he had even less to say now. He had made the preparations, had worked frantically during the night to locate a sky pilot and to see that the funeral was as fine as could be managed. He had gone out in the dark and gathered some late-blooming flowers where he had seen them the previous afternoon, when he and Altie had ridden together.
And in the dawn, as the herd was stirring a few miles away, they had buried her.
He had attended the burial of many men. most of whom had died as suddenly and as violently as she had done. Seldom in this land did death come naturally and in peace. Some of them had been his friends, but never had such a service affected him like this one. Altie had been so wistfully eager, she had ridden so well only the day before. His face was grim with the twisting pain inside him.
By the time they reached where the big herd was being gathered, the thousand had run off their wildness, were moving sedatelv as crows at a convention. The afternoon was hot, sultry as midsummer. Flies buzzed and clung in a sticky torment. Clouds piled across the west, the breeze that had stirred at noon was held in abeyance as if to gather its strength.
North rode ahead, Doll beside him. The feel of storm was in the air. and there would be trouble as sure as the sun went down. Doll was in a mood to welcome it. If he should stop a bullet himself, it would be a friendly thing. He didn’t know much about such matters, but maybe it was as the sky pilot had said. That there was another chance for those who had not done too well here, that life did not end with death. If it really opened a door to a new life beyond, maybe he could find Altie beyond that door. Altie. who had gone from him so quickly, and who had had so little here.
Now the greater herd was ahead, slow dust above them like a haze. North gave instructions for the smaller bunch to be halted, ten men to watch it. Forty others rode ahead with Doll and himself, men who knew what their job would be and were willing to do it. They stopped in turn at the brush by the creek, to wait there out of sight until North signaled them to come ahead. He and Doll rode out beyond the creek.
Here was the herd, in process of gathering for weeks at the orders of a Yankee. Three men jogged to meet them, grinning.
“We’ve been workin’ among the crew, like you told us to,” one, whom North greeted as Medlow, reported. “There’s forty here, all told. Twenty we can vouch for. They’ve already got your pay in their pockets, and know their job. Likewise they’ve signed on for the drive to Kansas, like you ordered.
“Of the others—well, sev’ral will be sure to be against us. Some of them natural, some because they’re workin’ for the Yankee to start with. Part of the twenty will side with us when it’s put up to them. But where they’re doubtful, we ain’t said nothing, like you ordered.”
“Good,” North agreed. “Let’s talk to that bunch.”
“The men we can depend on are holdin’ the herd,” Medlow went on. “I fixed that. The others are gathered over there. I told ’em there was somethin’ important comin’ up.”
“That’s fine,” North said again, and they rode to where the score of men waited. He lifted an arm to tip back his hat, and Doll knew that was a signal to the two score beyond the brush. Medlow introduced them.
“This here is Rawe North, a Texas man with a ranch in Kansas,” he said, “and his foreman, Noland Doll. North has somethin’ to say to you.”
“I’ll make it brief,” North promised. “Most of you men have been doing a job that you don’t like. What I mean is, roundin’ up this herd for a Yankee carpetbagger. You’ve clone it for wages, because a man has to eat. And we all know who controls the money in Texas, these days. But from now on, you’ll be workin’ for me, not for him.”
One man bristled promptly. He had been lounging on the ground, leaning on an elbow, chewing a spear of grass. Now he bounced to his feet.
“You bought the herd?” he demanded. “And whether you have or not, who give you license to run off at the mouth that way? We been doing the job for pay, sure, but when we take a man’s wages, we don’t stand for somebody else slurrin’ him!”
Some of the others drew closer to him, approvingly. North lifted a sardonic shoulder.
“Ain’t that touchin’, now!” he sneered. “I knew he had some of his own kind here, masqueradin’ as Texans. But whether you like what I said or not, this is my herd now. Those of you who’d like to work for me, and go on to Kansas, have got a job. We’re startin’ now. And it’ll pay you to work for me.”
“You mean you’ve bought this herd?” the rebel asked doubtfully.
“How else would I get them?” North retorted. “Now. how many of you want to sign up for the drive?”
The other man was unconvinced.
“You got a bill of sale to show you owrn ’em?” he demanded.
“Right here,” North agreed cheerfully. “Want a look at it?”
“I sure do.” The rebel pushed forward, shoving back his hat, and Doll’s heart sank. North was making a good bluff, but apparently this man could read. The odds had been against that. Doll could respect loyalty in a man.
North held out the bill of sale, lounging in the saddle. The other man peered at it, and his face reddened angrily.
“‘It’s just as I thought.” he exclaimed, turning to the others. “This ain’t for this bunch at all. He’s tryin’ to steal the herd. And I, for one, ain’t going to stand for it!”
“What you aimin’ to do?” North’s voice was amused. He’d hoped to avoid trouble, but had been ready for it.
“Fight,” was the prompt report. “We’ll stop you. Call the rest of the boys,” he added. “Those with the herd—”
“Those with the herd,” North informed him. “have already signed up and are takin’ my pay. That’s why they’re guardin’ the bunch now. And take a look behind you.”
The handful of rebels turned, and some of the pugnacity went out of them at sight of the men emerging from the brush by the creek. They looked like a small army.
“I’ve got a big herd to move to the Arkansas,” North went on. “Seven thousand head in all. So I’ve got a big crew to move them—and to fight when we have to. But you fellows can make up your minds. I don’t want anybody along—or taking my pay—who don’t have their heart in it. I’ve got plenty of men without that sort.”
The leader of the little group hesitated, then squared his shoulders again.
“That’s the way I feel too,” he grunted. “I won’t work for a man I don’t like—nor a thief. You can count me out!”
Some hesitated uneasily. The clouds had been building up fast in the last few minutes, and now they blotted away the late afternoon sun. A rumble of thunder growled.
Another man crossed to stand with the rebel. Inspired by that gesture, others followed, until there were six of them. The remainder of the twenty, after some hesitation, moved to the other side, along with North and Doll.
“Once a crew of honest men catch up with you, we’ll know how to deal with cattle thieves,” the rebel said bitingly. “But traitors will get somethin’ special!”
“And fools will get it now! “North said roughly. “All right, boys, they’re askin’ for it!”
He lifted his hand again, and this was the signal. Doll took no part. He had suddenly lost all stomach for that sort of thing. This was butchery—or North intended it for that.
The rebellious six, taken bv surprise, were not caught entirely off guard. They scattered, shooting as they ran. and a couple of those who had hesitated about making a choice turned to side them as they understood what was intended. The sudden storm was playing a part as well.
The rain come in a sweeping downpour; the half-light of the afternoon was blotted out as clouds rolled overhead. That gave the men who would not sell out a fighting chance. Not a good one, and against such odds as they faced, only two men managed to reach their horses. One of those was dead before he had ridden a dozen jumps, and he bounced loosely and tumbled to the ground again.
But the man who had led the defiance was getting away. North himself was shooting now, joining in the chase with frenzy in his voice. Most of the gun-hung crew that he had hired, renegades to start with, were trying to earn their money. But the one man was elusive as a dodging coyote. He reached the brush by the creek, and was swallowed by the lowering gloom.
It had looked like a short, quick storm, but now it held on with beating fury of rain until the real night came to take its place. Finally, soaked and disheveled, Medlow and half a dozen other men reported back at midnight, as the stars began to show again.
“We plumb lost his trail,” Medlow said apologetically, “what with the rain and dark. But there’s one thing sure. There was blood, every now and then. He’s hit. So he won’t get much farther.”
“You blithering fool,” North said bitingly. “You should have kept on till you got him! If he lives to tell of this—”
Medlow’s face was sober.
“Don’t forget that the rest of us are in this along with you,” he reminded. “And we was workin’ for Welch to start with. Anyhow, he’ll be out to stop us in any case, for stealin’ his herd. Ain’t that what you hired a gun crew for?”
- 16 -
WELCH! North and Doll exchanged startled glances. Somehow it had not occurred to either of them that the man who was having this big herd gathered might be the father of Colin Welch. They had known that Colin was the son of a man from the North, but that meant little in itself. The despoilers of the land were as numerous, almost, as Yankee soldiers had been during the war years. And of the two, they were a far more rapacious species of locust.
One thing was certain. When all the bad news reached the ears of Welch, at the capital, he would be doubly bent on vengeance. That it would soon get back to him there was no doubt. Whether or not the wounded man survived to carry word, it would get there. Gathering distortion as it went, as the wind sweeps up dust.
They moved with the dawn, stirring the great herd to motion. There was one natural leader, a rawboned steer of considerable age and with a sweep of horn to match the spaces of Texas. He had lost one eye in a battle, but that was no handicap. Now he swung ahead, with all the showy confidence of the ignorant, and the rest fell in behind.
Yet it took over an hour to trail them out, such was the size of the herd. North viewed them calculatingly.
“Soon as we catch up with the first bunch, we’ll split in two drives,” he said. “They’ll be big enough to handle that way.”
Welch had provided a chuck wagon well laden with supplies. That would give two wagon loads of provisions— enough, as planned, for fifty men. For twice that number it would mean short rations during the worst weather of the winter.
That North appreciated how close they might be run was quickly demonstrated. On the second day at mid-morning he caught a man lunching as he rode, nibbling at a sandwich of biscuit and cold bacon. North pulled up.
“Where’d you get that?” he demanded.
“Outa the chuck wagon,” he replied. “It was left over from breakfast—an’ I like something to chew on.”
“So do the rest of us,” North said grimly. “And we’ll be short enough before we reach the Arkansas. There’ll be no more raiding the larder. Coffee at night when you’re on duty, same as usual. Nothing more.”
“Coffee,” the luncher sneered. “You call that stuff we’re drinkin’ coffee? Tastes like warmed-over ditch water to me.”
“Whatever it is, you’d better like it, for it’s the best you’ll get,” North warned, and turned to ride on. But another word baited him.
“If that’s the size of it—that we’re goin’ on half-rations now, an’ starve before we get there, you can count me out at the start. I’ll take my wages an’ leave now.”
North’s eyes matched his name, but a fleck of angry red showed under the skin of his wind-burned cheeks.
“What’s your name?” he demanded.
“Karth. Red Karth. from the Red River—”
“Then listen to me, Karth. Every man I hired was for the duration of the drive. Not to go one day, or a week or a month, but all the way. Didn’t you understand that when you signed up?”
Karth shrugged, and tossed away the fatty portion of his chunk of bacon.
“Mebby I did,” he conceded. “But I figured then it was a fair job with plenty to eat. Seems it ain’t. And there’s some other things developin’ that I ain’t partial to. So. as I say, I’ll—”
Several others were within hearing now. North’s voice crackled.
“You’ll shut your mouth and do as you’re told,” he warned. “I’m holdin’ every man to his agreement. Make no mistake about that!”
He swung again and rode off, and Karth made no rejoinder. Faces were thoughtful as the news spread. Rawe North was swinging a wide loop. But, while you might corral a lot of land and stock, it was something else again to hold captive the spirited and the unruly among men.
They passed the grave where two men were buried in nameless obscurity because they had placed honor above expediency—that grave where the herd had been driven across the new-made mound. Doll recognized it, though there was nothing now to indicate what it was. North rode past without a change of expression. Whether he noticed it or not Doll had no way of telling.
Farther on they encountered the other herd, drifting slowly, according to orders. Ames reported that there had been no trouble. But now, just ahead, was the saloon where North had gambled for the money with which he had bought Jim McLane’s bunch. Garwood had furnished that money, however unwillingly. And Garwood, Doll guessed, would be waiting for them now.
Since towns of any sort would be few and far between, North allowed the crew to wash the dust from their throats here. It was a busy evening, but there was no sign of Garwood.
In the morning North issued fresh orders.
“We’ll split the herd.” he said. “Ames, you take half of them and go on ahead. We’ll follow about half a day behind you. Doll, you’ll rod this bunch. And now, as for the crews—”
He divided them up, an equal number to each bunch. They were in the midst of that task when the gun went off.
Ostensibly it was an accident. A gun fired through carelessness or mistake. Doll, swinging for a fast look, had his doubts on both scores, but there was no time then for speculation. Most of the crew were gathered at the one spot, and the big herd was rested and fractious again, their blood running hot with the excitement engendered of three herds too recently merged into one, of many minor battles which had ensued. It needed only the gun-shot to set them off, as though a trigger had been pulled.
Stampede! It was things like these which put spice in a cowboy’s life and gray hairs in his head—if he lived long enough for his hair to gray. Such events kept many a man from ever growing old. Cattle were explosive as dynamite, unpredictable as the jump of a flea. Nothing suited them better than to choose a moment when everyone was off guard, then to run in a wild herd impulse, the massed rolling drive of a thundering juggernaut. Stampede!
Had they headed north it would have been simple. Let them run. But they were swinging east by south, and an hour now could mean a week’s delay, the herd scattered and lost in the brush from which most of them had been so recently and painfully gathered. Later, farther north, where the land was open, with nothing in which to hide, it would be less of a chore to round them up again. Here it was stop them or lose them.
And to stop a stampede was akin to a man riding into a river and thinking thus to dam its flow to the sea. But they might, with luck, turn the vanguard, set the leaders to milling and so, in time, make a clockwise motion of the whole vast herd. No easy task, but one reckless to the point of folly. One which every cowboy faced as a part of the regular job at a moment’s notice.
