The Cattle-Baron's Daughter

by Harold Bindloss

  III

  THE CATTLE-BARONS

  It was a still, hot evening when a somewhat silent company of bronze-facedmen assembled in the big living room of Cedar Range. It was built of birchtrunks, and had once, with its narrow windows and loopholes for riflefire, resembled a fortalice; but now cedar panelling covered the logs, andthe great double casements were filled with the finest glass. They wereopen wide that evening. Around this room had grown up a straggling woodenbuilding of dressed lumber with pillars and scroll-work, and, as it stoodthen, flanked by its stores and stables, barns and cattle-boys' barracks,there was no homestead on a hundred leagues of prairie that might comparewith it.

  Outside, on the one hand, the prairie rolled away in long billowy rises, avast sea of silvery grey, for the grass that had been green a month or twowas turning white again, and here and there a stockrider showedsilhouetted, a dusky mounted figure against the paling flicker of saffronthat still lingered upon the horizon. On the other, a birch bluff dippedto the Cedar River, which came down faintly chilled with the Rockies' snowfrom the pine forests of the foothills. There was a bridge four milesaway, but the river could be forded beneath the Range for a few monthseach year. At other seasons it swirled by, frothing in green-stainedflood, swollen by the drainage of snowfield and glacier, and there was nostockrider at the Range who dared swim his horse across.

  Sun and wind had their will with the homestead, for there was littleshelter from icy blizzard and scorching heat at Cedar; but though here andthere the frame-boarding gaped and the roof-shingles were rent, no manaccustomed to that country could fail to notice the signs of carefulmanagement and prosperity. Corrals, barns, and stables were the best oftheir kind; and, though the character of all of them was not beyondexception, in physique and fitness for their work it would have been hardto match the sinewy men in blue shirts, wide hats, and long boots, thenwatering their horses at the ford. They were as daring and irresponsibleswashbucklers as ever rode out on mediaeval foray, and, having once soldtheir allegiance to Torrance of Cedar, and recognized that he was not tobe trifled with, were ready to do without compunction anything he badethem.

  In the meanwhile Torrance sat at the head of the long table, withClavering of Beauregard at his right hand. His face was bronzed andresolute, and the stamp of command sat plainly upon him. There was grey inhis dark hair, and his eyes were keen and black, with a little glint inthem; but, vigorous as he still seemed, the hand on the table was smoothand but slightly tinted by the sun, for Torrance was one who, in thelanguage of that country, did his work, which was usually arduous, withhis gloves on. He was dressed in white shirt and broadcloth, and a diamondof price gleamed in the front of the former.

  His guests were for the most part younger, and Clavering was scarcely halfhis age: but when they met in conclave something usually happened, for theseat of the legislature was far away, and their will considerably morepotent thereabouts than the law of the land. Sheriff, postmaster, railroadagent, and petty politician carried out their wishes, and as yet no manhad succeeded in living in that region unless he did homage to thecattle-barons. They were Republicans, admitting in the abstract the rightsof man, so long as no venturesome citizen demanded too much of them; butthey had discovered that in practice liberty is usually the prerogative ofthe strong. Still, they had done their nation good service, for they hadfound the land a wilderness and covered it with cattle, so that itscommerce fed the railroads and supported busy wooden towns. Some of theolder men had disputed possession with the Indian, and most of them in theearly days, enduring thirst and loneliness and unwearying toil, had heldon stubbornly in the face of ruin by frost and drought and hail. It wasnot astonishing that as they had made that land--so they phrased it--theyregarded it as theirs.

  There were eight of them present, and for a time they talked of horses andcattle as they sipped their wine, which was the choicest that France couldsend them; and it is also probable that no better cigars ever came fromCuba than those they smoked. By and by, however, Torrance laid his aside.

  "It's time we got down to work," he said. "I sent for ten of you, andeight have come. One sent valid excuses, and one made no answer."

  "Larry Grant," said Clavering. "I guess he was too busy at the depotbringing a fat Dutchman and a crowd of hard-faced Dakota ploughboys in."

  There was a little murmur of astonishment which, had the men beendifferent, would not have been quite free from consternation, for it wassignificant news.

  "You're quite sure?" asked Torrance, and his face was stern.

  "Well," said Clavering languidly, "I saw him, and bantered him a little onhis prepossessing friends. Asked him why, when he was at it, he didn't goto Manitoba for Canadians. Larry didn't take it nicely."

  "I'm sorry," said one of the older men. "Larry is one of us, and the lastman I'd figure on committing that kind of meanness would be the son ofFremont Grant. Quite sure it's not a fit of temper? You have not beenworrying him, Torrance?"

  Torrance closed one hand. "Grant of Fremont was my best friend, and whenhe died I 'most brought the lad up as a son. When he got hold of hisfoolish notions it hurt me considerably, and I did what I could to talkhim out of them."

  There was a little smile in the faces of some of the men, for Torrance'sdraconic fashion of arguing was known to them.

  "You put it a little too straight, and he told you something that riledyou," said one.

  "He did," said Torrance grimly. "Still, for 'most two years I kept a curbon my temper. Then one evening I told him he had to choose right thenbetween his fancies and me. I could have no dealings with any man whotalked as he did."

  "Do you remember any of it?" asked another man.

  "Yes," said Torrance. "His father's friends were standing in the way ofprogress. Land that would feed a thousand families was keeping us inluxury no American was entitled to. This was going to be the poor man'scountry, and the plough was bound to come!"

  Clavering laughed softly, and there were traces of ironical amusement inthe faces of the rest. Very similar predictions had more than once beenflung at them, and their possessions were still, they fancied, secure tothem. They, however, became grave again, and it was evident that LarryGrant had hitherto been esteemed by them.

  "If it had been any one else, we could have put our thumb on him rightnow," said one. "Still, I don't quite figure it would work with Larry.There are too many folks who would stand in with him."

  There was a little murmur of approbation, and Clavering laughed. "Buy himoff," he said tentatively. "We have laid out a few thousand dollars inthat way before."

  Some of the men made gestures of decided negation, and Torrance looked atthe speaker a trifle sternly.

  "No, sir," he said. "Larry may be foolish, but he's one of us."

  "Then," said somebody, "we've got to give him time. Let it pass. You havesomething to tell us, Torrance?"

  Torrance signed to one of them. "You had better tell them, Allonby."

  A grey-haired man stood up, and his fingers shook a little on the table."My lease has fallen in, and the Bureau will not renew it," he said. "I'mnot going to moan about my wrongs, but some of you know what it cost me tobreak in that place of mine. You have lived on the bitter water and thesaleratus bread, but none of you has seen his wife die for the want of thefew things he couldn't give her, as I did. I gave the nation my two boyswhen the good times came, and they're dead--buried in their uniform bothof them--and now, when I'd laid out my last dollar on the ranch, that theone girl I've left me might have something when I'd gone, the Governmentwill take it away from me. Gentlemen, is it my duty to sit down quietly?"

  There was a murmur, and the men looked at one another with an ominousquestion in their eyes, until Torrance raised his hand.

  "The land's not open to location. I guess they're afraid of us, andAllonby's there on toleration yet," he said. "Gentlemen, we mean to keephim just where he is, because when he pulls out we will have to go too.But this thing has to be done quietly. When the official machine
ry movesdown here it's because we pull the strings, and we have got to have thelaw upon our side as far as we can. Well, that's going to cost us money,and we want a campaign fund. I'll give Allonby a cheque for five hundreddollars in the meanwhile, if he'll be treasurer; but as we may all befixed as he is presently, we'll want a good deal more before we'rethrough. Who will follow me?"

  Each of them promised five hundred, and then looked at Clavering, who hadnot spoken. One of them also fancied that there was for a moment a traceof embarrassment in his face; but he smiled carelessly.

  "The fact is, dollars are rather tight with me just now," he said. "You'llhave to wait a little if I'm to do as much as the rest of you. I am,however, quite willing."

  "I'll lend you them," said Torrance. "Allonby, I'll make that cheque athousand. You have got it down?"

  Allonby accepted office, and one of the other men rose up. "Now it seemsto me that Torrance is right, and with our leases expired or running out,we're all in the same tight place," he said. "The first move is to getevery man holding cattle land from here to the barren country to stand in,and then, one way or another, we'll freeze out the homesteaders. Well,then, we'll constitute ourselves a committee, with Torrance as headexecutive, and as we want to know just what the others are doing, mynotion is that he should start off to-morrow and ride round the country.If there are any organizations ready, it might suit us to affiliate withthem."

  It was agreed to, and Clavering said, "It seems to me, sir, that the firstquestion is, 'Could we depend upon the boys if we wanted them?'"

  Torrance strode to an open window and blew a silver whistle. Its shrillnote had scarcely died away when a mounted man came up at a gallop, and aband of others in haste on foot. They stopped in front of the window,picturesque in blue shirts and long boots, sinewy, generously fed, andirresponsibly daring.

  "Boys," he said, "you've been told there's a change coming, and by and bythis country will have no more use for you. Now, if any folks came hereand pulled our boundaries up to let the mean whites from back east in,what are you going to do?"

  There was a burst of hoarse laughter. "Ride them down," said one retainer,with the soft blue eyes of a girl and a figure of almost matchlesssymmetry.

  "Grow feathers on them," said another. "Ride them back to the railroad ona rail."

  "I scarcely think that would be necessary," said Torrance quietly. "Still,you'd stand behind the men who pay you?"

  There was a murmur that expressed a good deal, though it was inarticulate,and a man stood forward.

  "You've heard them, sir," he said. "Well, we'll do just what you want usto. This is the cattle-baron's country, and we're here. It's good enoughfor us, and if it means lots of trouble we're going to stay here."

  Torrance raised his hand, and when the men moved away turned with a littlegrim smile to his guests. "They'll be quite as good as their word," hesaid.

  Then he led them back to the table, and when the decanter had gone round,one of the younger men stood up.

  "We want a constitution, gentlemen, and I'll give you one," he said. "TheCedar District Stockraisers' Committee incorporated to-day with for soleobject the defence of our rights as American citizens!"

  Clavering rose with the others, but there was a little ironical smile inhis eyes as he said, "If necessary against any unlawful encroachments madeby the legislature!"

  Torrance turned upon him sternly. "No, sir!" he said. "By whatever meansmay appear expedient!"

  The glasses were lifted high, and when they had laid them down the menrode away, though only one or two of them realized the momentous issueswhich they and others had raised at about much the same time. They hadnot, however, met in conclave too soon, for any step that man makesforward towards a wider life is usually marked by strife, and the shadowof coming trouble was already upon the land. It had deepened little bylittle, and the cattle-barons had closed their eyes, as other men who haveheld the reins have done since the beginning, until the lean hands of thetoilers fastened upon them, and fresh horrors added to an ancient wrongwere the price of liberty that was lost again. They had done good serviceto their nation, with profit to themselves, and would not see that thetimes were changing and that the nation had no longer need of them.

  Other men, however, at least suspected it, and there was an expectantgathering one hot afternoon in the railroad depot of a little wooden townwhere Grant stood waiting for the west-bound train. There was little toplease the eye about the station, and still less about the town. Straightout of the great white levels ran the glistening track, and an unsightlybuilding of wood and iron rose from the side of it, flanked by a toweringwater-tank. A pump rattled under it, and the smell of creosote waseverywhere. Cattle corrals ran back from the track, and beyond themsun-rent frame houses roofed with cedar shingles straggled away on the onehand, paintless, crude, and square. On the other, a smear of trail led thedazzled vision back across the parched levels to the glancing refractionon the horizon, and the figure of a single horseman showing dimly througha dust cloud emphasized their loneliness. The town was hot and dusty, itsone green fringe of willows defiled by the garbage the citizens depositedthere, and the most lenient stranger could have seen no grace or beauty init. Yet, like many another place of the kind, it was destined to rise toprosperity and fame.

  The depot was thronged that afternoon. Store and hotel keeper, citizens inwhite shirts and broadcloth, jostled blue-shirted cattle men, while hereand there a petty politician consulted with the representative of aWestern paper. The smoke of cigars drifted everywhere, and the listlessheat was stirred by the hum of voices eager and strident. It was evidentthat the assembly was in an expectant mood, and there was a murmur ofapprobation when one newspaper man laid hold of Grant.

  "I couldn't light on you earlier, but ten minutes will see us through," hesaid. "We'll make a half-page of it if you'll let me have your views. Newepoch in the country's history! The small farmer the coming king! Awood-cut of the man who brought the first plough in."

  Larry Grant laughed a little. "There are quite a few ahead of me, and ifyou spread my views the barons would put their thumb on you and squeezeyou flat," he said. "On the other hand, it wouldn't suit me if you sentthem anything I told you to publish."

  The man appeared a trifle embarrassed. "The rights of the Press are sacredin a free country, sir," he said.

  "Well," said Grant drily, "although I hope it will be, this country isn'tquite free yet. I surmise that you don't know that the office of yourcontemporary farther east was broken into a few hours ago, and an articlewritten by a friend of mine pulled out of the press. The proprietor wasquietly held down upon the floor when he objected. You will hear whether Iam right or wrong to-morrow."

  What the man would have answered did not appear, for just then somebodyshouted, and a trail of smoke swept up above the rim of the prairie. Itrose higher and whiter, something that flashed dazzlingly grew into shapebeneath it, and there was a curious silence when the dusty cars rolledinto the little station. It was followed by a murmur as an elderly man inbroad white hat and plain store clothing, and a plump, blue-eyed youngwoman, came out upon the platform of a car. He wore a pair of spectaclesand gazed about him in placid inquiry, until Grant stepped forward. Thenhe helped the young woman down, and held out a big, hard hand.

  "Mr. Grant?" he said.

  Grant nodded, and raised his hat to the girl. "Yes," he said. "Mr.Muller?"

  "Ja," said the other man. "Also der fraeulein Muller."

  There was a little ironical laughter from the crowd. "A Dutchman," saidsomebody, "from Chicago. They raise them there in the sausage machine. Thehogs go in at one end, and they rake the Dutchmen out of the other."

  Muller looked round inquiringly, but apparently failed to discover thespeaker.

  "Dot," he said, "is der chestnut. I him have heard before."

  There was good-humoured laughter--for even when it has an animus anAmerican crowd is usually fair; and in the meanwhile five or six other mengot down from a car. They wer
e lean and brown, with somewhat grim faces,and were dressed in blue shirts and jean.

  "Well," said one of them, "we're Americans. Got any objections to usgetting off here, boys?"

  Some of the men in store clothing nodded a greeting, but there were othersin wide hats, and long boots with spurs, who jeered.

  "Brought your plough-cows along?" said one, and the taunt had its meaning,for it is usually only the indigent and incapable who plough with oxen.

  "No," said one of the newcomers. "We have horses back yonder. When we wantmules or cowsteerers, I guess we'll find them here. You seem to have quitea few of them around."

  A man stepped forward, jingling his spurs, with his jacket of embroidereddeerskin flung open to show, though this was as yet unusual, that he worea bandolier. Rolling back one loose sleeve he displayed a brown arm withthe letters "C. R." tattooed within a garter upon it. "See this. You'veheard of that mark before?" he said.

  "Cash required!" said the newcomer, with a grin. "Well, I guess that's notastonishing. It would be a blame foolish man who gave you credit."

  "No, sir," said the stockrider. "It's Cedar Range, and there's twenty boysand more cattle than you could count in a long day carrying that brand. Itwill be a cold day when you and the rest of the Dakotas start kickingagainst that outfit."

  There was laughter and acclamation, in the midst of which the cars rolledon; but in the meanwhile Grant had seized the opportunity to get agang-plough previously unloaded from a freight-car into a wagon. The sightof it raised a demonstration, and there were hoots, and cries ofapprobation, while a man with a flushed face was hoisted to the top of akerosene-barrel.

  "Boys," he said, "there's no use howling. We're Americans. Nobody can stopus, and we're going on. You might as well kick against a railroad; andbecause the plough and the small farmer will do more for you than even thelocomotive did, they have got to come. Well, now, some of you are keepingstores, and one or two I see here baking bread and making clothes. Whichis going to do the most for your trade and you, a handful of rich men, whowouldn't eat or wear the things you have to sell, owning the wholecountry, or a family farming on every quarter section? A town ten timesthis size wouldn't be much use to them. Well, you've had yourcattle-barons, gentlemen most of them; but even a man of that kind has tostep out of the track and make room when the nation's moving on."

  He probably said more, but Grant did not hear him, for he had asunostentatiously as possible conveyed Muller and the fraeulein into awagon, and had horses led up for the Dakota men. They had some difficultyin mounting, and the crowd laughed good-humouredly, though here and therea man flung jibes at them; while one, jolting in his saddle as his bronchoreared, turned to Grant with a little deprecatory gesture.

  "In our country we mostly drive in wagons, but I'll ride by the stirrupand get down when nobody sees me," he said. "The beast wouldn't try toclimb out this way if there wasn't something kind of prickly under hissaddle."

  Grant's face was a trifle grim when he saw that more of the horses wereinclined to behave similarly, but he flicked his team with the whip, andthere was cheering and derision when, with a drumming of hoofs and rattleof wheels, wagons and horsemen swept away into the dust-cloud that rolledabout the trail.

  "This," he said, "is only a little joke of theirs, and they'll go a gooddeal further when they get their blood up. Still, I tried to warn you whatyou might expect."

  "So!" said Muller, with a placid grin. "It is noding to der franc tireurs.I was in der chase of Menotti among der Vosges. Also at Paris."

  "Well," said Grant drily, "I'm 'most afraid that by and by you'll gothrough very much the same kind of thing again. What you saw at the depotis going on wherever the railroad is bringing the farmers in, and we'vegot men in this country who'd make first-grade franc tireurs."