Jack the Young Cowboy: An Eastern Boy's Experiance on a Western Round-up

by George Bird Grinnell

  CHAPTER V

  CUTTING AND BRANDING

  The sun was just getting ready to look over the hills the next morningand the men were hastily bolting their breakfast, when the horsewrangler brought up the c?vaya to the camp. Before this, some of themen had driven into the ground five stakes, four of them marking thefour corners of a square of considerable size, with one stake betweentwo of the corners, or on one side of this square. A sixth stake wasdriven out on the prairie a few yards from one end of the three stakesin line, and at right-angles to that line, thus

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  To the tops of these stakes, which were only three feet high, were tiedropes which when pulled tight would make a rope enclosure, complete onthree and one-half of its sides, but with an opening between one of thecorner stakes and the one standing between the two corners. From one ofthe corner stakes to the one standing alone on the prairie, ran anotherrope, making a sort of wing which would stop animals tending to walkby the corner, and would turn them into the opening.

  Down on the plains in old times rope corrals were often made by tyingropes to the front and hind wheels of a wagon, and stretching them outat right angles to the length of the wagon. The horses were driven intothis corral and then caught there. The Texas ponies of those earlierdays were cunning little rascals and many of them had learned to putthe nose down close to the ground and get the head under the rope andthen raising the head to push out. Of course when one had got out andrushed away, the others would follow, pushing down the rope and gettingfree. Often the man who was holding the end of the rope, seeing a horseabout to push under, would slacken the rope until it was under thepony's nose, and then, giving the rope a quick jerk, it would spring upand hit the horse, making him throw up his head. In the mountains suchcorrals were sometimes used, but as often those made with the stakes.

  The c?vaya was driven very slowly toward this rope corral and some ofthe boys ran out to it, one handling the rope which was to act as awing and the others the ropes which ran from corner to corner of thecorral. The horse wrangler drove his animals along at a walk and turnedthem into the opening of the corral, the men at the ropes raising themas the horses entered. The horses stopped and made no attempt to pushagainst the ropes. After the whole bunch had entered the corral, theman at the wing rope walked around and stood by the middle one of thethree stakes in line, thus completely closing the corral. Ducking underthe ropes, the boys now went slowly and quietly into the enclosure,and caught the gentle horses, which, one by one, they led out and tied.Over the heads of any horses that were not willing to be caught, ropeswere quietly tossed, and the horses led out.

  Jack, who was taking part in all this work, was interested, as he hadbeen so many times before, in seeing the remarkable change of demeanorin a horse, just as soon as it feels a rope on it. The animal may bewild and frisky--apparently untamable--in the corral, but let the ropedrop over its head, and it is at once transformed into the meekest andmost commonplace of animals.

  Of course, this is not true of young colts that have not been broken,but the horse that has had a few falls, and has learned the power ofthe rope, always fears it.

  When all the men had caught up their horses, and the ropes had beentaken from the corral, the rest of the bunch were allowed to wanderoff, while the horse wrangler went to the cook tent to get hisbreakfast.

  Now followed a scene more or less amusing and exciting, or irritatingand tiresome, as one happened to look at it. Many cow horses, eventhough well broken, always object to being saddled, while someobject both to being saddled and to being mounted. Now and then wasfound a horse that had to be blinded before he could be saddled; andoccasionally one that refused to be bridled. The younger men shoutedand made much fun of their fellows who had horses that were disposed tobe nervous, or to object to the saddle.

  The older men, when after some trouble they had succeeded in gettingthe saddles on their horses, and the cinches drawn, were likely tolead the animals up and down by a rope, and let them buck with theempty saddle.

  The horse selected this morning by Tulare Joe was young, skittish andrather disposed to make trouble. When Joe approached him, carrying theblanket in his hand, he reared and sometimes came forward on his hindlegs striking with his forefeet. The young man was cool and quick, andshowed no impatience whatever, but after a few minutes' fruitless workof this sort he called to Jack, who was standing looking on, havingsaddled his own quiet horse, and asked him to bring his rope. As Jackapproached, Joe called to him:

  "The next time this horse goes up in the air catch him and throw himfor me."

  The opportunity came a moment or two later. Jack threw the rope, froma little behind the horse, caught it and gave a sidewise tug while thehorse was on its hind legs. The animal fell heavily. Joe jumped onits head, while Jack quickly looped the lariat around its hind legsand tied the horse fast. Without the slightest sign of impatience,Joe lifted the horse's head, and bridled him, while Jack brought thesaddle; and a moment later, having had the rope loosed which bound itsfeet, the half dazed animal stood up and in a few seconds was saddled.

  "Much obliged, Jack," said Joe. "You saved me a little time, and havecut those fellows out of a whole lot of the joshing they would havegiven me while I was fooling with this horse alone. Then, too, you hadadded some to McIntyre's peace of mind. He thinks the horses brought ona round-up ought to be gentled before the round-up starts, and hatesto see time wasted with a horse that is hard to handle."

  "Well, Joe," was the response, "I like the way you handle your horse.Most of us lose our patience and kick and swear and pound a horse witha quirt; and that is something that does no good. I know years ago,when I was a little fellow, and was first out here, Hugh used to tellme that the main reason why a man was better than a horse was thathe had sense, and if he didn't use his sense, why he wasn't of muchaccount."

  Joe laughed.

  "You take it from me," he said, "that old man knows a heap, and ifyou've been traveling around with him for some years, like you say youhave, I reckon that you know that a heap sight better than I can tellyou."

  By this time most of the men had already started out toward the largebunch of cattle now scattered over the prairie, feeding. McIntyre,the foreman, had given orders to the men as to where the variousbunches were to be held, and the representatives of the differentbrands were talking with each other about this. In this bunch ofcattle there were four principal brands, which must now be separatedand divided into four herds, each one of which would be driven off bythe representatives of the brand. Besides the cattle bearing thesefour brands, there were, of course, in the large bunch a number ofstrays--cattle that perhaps had wandered on to the range from adistance, or that had been dropped by some one driving a herd throughthe country, or that were owned by small people, the size of whosebunch did not justify them in sending a representative with theround-up. Of these strays many would be recognized by the cow menpresent. Those would be turned into the bunch of cut cattle that wouldpass nearest to the ranch of the owner, while others bearing brandsunknown to any of the cow punchers would be kept with the biggest herd,turned out on the home range of that bunch, and perhaps watched for awhile in the hope that an owner would turn up. If none was found, thestock association would be notified and the animal turned over to it.

  As Jack and Joe drew near the big bunch, half a dozen men werecircling around it, bringing it together in a close, compact mass,while two or three other riders were urging their horses among thecattle, scrutinizing the brand which each bore. Most of the cattle hadcompletely shed their winter coats and were short-haired and smooth,so that the brands showed up well and could be read at a considerabledistance.

  It was interesting to Jack, as it is to every one who witnesses it, tosee the trained cow horse follow an animal. There, for example, was ablue roan cow pushing her way through the
thick mass of the herd, justahead of the horse ridden by Rube. The horse was going at a trot andwas close to the heels of the cow, which seemed to push always towardthe place where the cattle were crowded thickest. Presently Rube gother out from the center of the herd and over toward the edge, and everytime that she turned to go back toward the center the little horse,with ears pricked forward, dodged more quickly and got in her way. So,little by little, she was edged out to the border of the bunch; andthen it was seen that, running close by her side and almost under herbelly, was a strong and sturdy calf that must have been born in Marchor early April. As soon as the cow had reached the edge of the herdthe little pony galloped forward, driving straight toward her exceptwhen she tried to break back, and then always getting in her way. Rubenow swung his quirt over his head and presently the cow, giving up thestruggle to return, started straight off over the prairie to a littlebunch of the Sturgis' cattle that had already been brought together andthat Hugh and another man were keeping by themselves. Just as the cowreached the edge of this little bunch, a cow puncher threw his rope andcaught the calf's hind legs; the horse wheeled instantly and started ona quick gallop, dragging the calf over the prairie to a fire in whichthe branding irons were heating. Here two of the boys jumped down andheld the calf; another snatched a hot iron from the fire and swiftlyput the Sturgis brand on it. Then, it was turned loose, and hurriedback to the little bunch from which its anxious mother trotted out withthreatening calls, and after nosing it all over walked back into thecrowd.

  "THE COW STARTED STRAIGHT OFF OVER THE PRAIRIE." --_Page 48_ _Photo by Harry Mintz, Binghamton, N. Y._ ]

  McIntyre had detailed Jack to act through the day as one of the calfbranders, and all day long he was busy roping calves, dragging them upto the fire and helping to hold them down, while some one clapped onthe iron. It was not pleasant work--the smoke of singed hair rose fromthe animal's side, and the poor creature bawled piteously; but, afterall, a great many painful and disagreeable things have to be done,and this was one of them.

  As the day went by, and Jack got hotter and more thirsty and more dustyand more tired, he derived a little amusement from wondering whatsome of those eastern pilgrims, who had talked to him of the romanceof the cowboy's life would think of that life if for one day theyhad to do the work that the cowboy has to do every day. No one canimagine the weary monotony of doing this work over and over again; thestrength that it may take to hold the calf; the heat from the fires;the cloud of dust, grime and ashes among which one works; the constanttrifling annoyances of being burned by a hot iron, being kicked by afrisky calf, or having one's hands hurt by the rope. All these things,combined with the physical force that is constantly called into play,make the work laborious and tiresome. The romance of the cowboy'slife exists only in the imagination. Of course the boys are cheerfuland merry, laughing and joking all the time, making fun of their ownmishaps, or of those of their neighbors, and this constant flow of goodspirits makes the work far lighter than it otherwise would be.

  Now and then during the day, a little variety was offered by some cowthat, pestered beyond endurance, at last refused to run any longer andturned to fight. Such a cow becomes at once a dangerous animal; and toget her calf away from her, unless it can be frightened into leavingits mother for a short distance, is sometimes difficult.

  Jack met with such a cow, which, after wasting a little energy incharging him, contented herself with standing still and threateningwith her horns, while the calf stuck close to her side. Two or threetimes Jack rode swiftly by her and threw his rope at the calf, but thelittle beast stood so close under its mother's side that in no case didthe rope catch it. Jack tried to ride near enough to the calf to lashit with his rope, in the hope that this would start it out from itsposition of safety, but the attempt was a failure, and the second timehe did this the cow charged him viciously. He wheeled his horse and gotaway, but the long horns swept so close that it gave him a moment'suneasiness lest his horse should be harmed. He whirled quickly to getback to the cow, thinking that possibly the calf might have been leftbehind, but this had not happened: it was still close to its mother.

  About this time, Joe swept by him dragging a calf at the end of hisrope, and a few moments later, after the calf had been turned loose,Joe returned.

  "Why, here's my chance to pay you off for what you did for me thismorning," he said to Jack. "Rope the old cow's horns and I'll take herhind feet and we'll stretch her."

  No sooner said than done. In a moment Jack's rope settled over thecow's horns, and as she at first pulled back and then started forward,Joe very cleverly picked up both her hind feet and turned his horse theother way; instantly the cow was stretched out helpless on the prairie.Jack made his rope fast to the horn of his saddle, and left his horseto hold the cow while he ran back to her. Joe in the meantime rodeforward toward the cow's head, thus bringing her hind feet up underher breast; and in a moment she was securely tied. The calf had run offa few yards, and stood there bewildered.

  "There's your calf," said Joe, as he swung into the saddle again. "Goand brand him."

  Jack freed his rope from the cow's head, rode over and caught the calf,and when it was branded, dragged it back to its mother. Then he untiedthe cow and, hopping into the saddle before she regained her feet, wassoon off after another calf.

  So the day went on: a long day filled with fun, jollity, laughter,provoking incidents and irritating happenings; so that at night whenthe men returned to camp they were all weary and enormously hungry.The representatives of each one of the four different brands drove offtheir cattle to some distance from the main herd, and watched themwhile they fed and drank, filling their bellies for the night.

  A little later these representatives would be relieved by the nightherders who now, with several herds to watch instead of one as thenight before, would ride about and keep apart the different bunches.

  Hungry and tired as they were, a number of the punchers, instead ofgoing directly to camp, rode down in the stream-bed well below the campand there stripping off their upper clothing whipped the dirt out of itas best they could, and scrubbed their white healthy bodies free fromthe dust that had sifted through their shirts. The effort to get thegrime and sand from their hair was hopeless, except for those men whohad been thoughtful enough before starting out on the round-up to havetheir hair clipped short, and of these there were only two or three.

  By the time they reached camp, supper was ready, and it was a ravenouslot of cow punchers who scrambled for plates, cups, and knives andforks, and enjoyed the hearty, wholesome food that simmered on the fire.

  At length, stuffed to repletion, Jack threw himself on the ground nearHugh.

  "I feel like a boa-constrictor that has eaten an ox," he laughed.

  "Well," replied Hugh, "I guess you're stuffed pretty full. It's hardwork branding calves, and it's work that you ain't used to right now.It won't be so hard on you a week or two from this, when you've gotmore into the run of things."

  "Of course you're right," said Jack. "I have not done any work justlike this for a good while, and it does seem hard and tiresome now, butit's like 'most everything else: we'll get used to it after a while."

  "I reckon you didn't see Vicente get chucked to-day, did you?" askedHugh. "No," he went on, "I'm sure you didn't, because you were overthere by the fire when it happened. He tried to throw a cow, and whenhe stopped his horse the saddle cinch broke and he went a-flyin'. Itdidn't hurt him none, but he was pretty mad."

  "Why, how did it come to break?" asked Jack.

  "That was the funny part of it. You know he only came in day beforeyesterday, and coming down through the mountains the night before hegot here, they camped, and along in the night Vicente was waked up byhearing a porcupine walking around camp. Of course, he thought of hissaddle at once, and got up out of his blankets. It was bright moonlightand in a minute he saw the porcupine close to his saddle. He grabbedup a stick of firewood--he had got
in late and cooked his supper withjust a few odds and ends of brush and limbs that he had picked uparound camp--and with one of these sticks he went for the porcupine.The stick was no good and broke the first time he hit the animal, andit ran off into the brush.

  "Vicente knew it would come back, and he got a stout club so as to killit if it bothered him. Then he took his saddle to bed with him andtried to stay awake; but he didn't stay awake. Presently he heard theporcupine whimpering about his bed, and he jumped up and mighty soonpounded the life out of the beast. He looked at his saddle the nextmorning, and it seemed to him to be all right, and he rode down thehill with it and didn't have occasion to use it hard until to-day.

  "When he looked at it, after he got chucked, he found that that blastedporcupine had just taken a nip or two at the string that tied thelatigo to the ring of the saddle. Maybe there was a little salt in thatstring from the horse sweat, or maybe it was just an accident. Anyhow,the string was cut enough so that when a pull came the saddle flew, andVicente with it."

  "Well, I am glad that he killed the porcupine," said Jack. "They arepretty useless beasts, according to my way of thinking."

  "I don't think much more of them than you do; but up in some parts ofthe North the Indians think they are about the finest eating there is,and I reckon the Indians' clothing in old times wouldn't have beenhalf as fancy as it used to be if it hadn't been for porcupine quills.You know in old times, before the Indians got glass beads by tradingwith the white folks, they used to use quills and feathers and hair,and sometimes black roots, to ornament their clothes, and their lodges.Of course, they dyed the quills or feathers, and the roots too, allsorts of colors, and made their moccasins and leggings and shirts androbes real pretty."

  "Yes," said Jack; "I have seen buffalo robes that were handsomelyworked with quills; and up there in the Piegan country pretty nearlyhalf the shirts, and a good part of the pipe stems, were ornamentedwith quills."

  "That's so," said Hugh. "The Piegans are great fellows to use quills,and so are the Cheyennes."

  "That's one thing I want to ask you about, Hugh: how they colored allthese different things yellow and red. Of course they didn't have todye the quills black, because most of them are part black already."

  "Well," Hugh promised, "we'll have a talk about that sometime; but Ireckon that just now, as my pipe is out, I'm going to bed. I've notmuch hard work to do on this round-up, and McIntyre isn't going toput me on night herd, but I reckon I need all the sleep I can getto-night."