by Andy Adams
CHAPTER XX. ON THE JUST AND THE UNJUST
The quarantine guards returned to their camp. Our plans were suddenlyand completely upset, and not knowing which way to turn, Sponsilier andI, slightly crestfallen, accompanied the guards. It was already latein the evening, but Captain Ullmer took advantage of the brief respitegranted him to clear the east half of the valley of native cattle.Couriers were dispatched to sound the warning among the ranches down theriver, while a regular round-up outfit was mustered among the camps tobegin the drifting of range stock that evening. A few men were left atthe two camps, as quarantine was not to be abandoned, and securing ourborrowed horses, my partner and I bade our friends farewell and set outon our return for the Yellowstone. Merely touching at Powderville fora hasty supper, we held a northwest, cross-country course, far intothe night, when we unsaddled to rest our horses and catch a few hours'sleep. But sunrise found us again in our saddles, and by the middle ofthe forenoon we were breakfasting with our friends in Miles City.
Fort Keogh was but a short distance up the river. That militaryinterference had been secured through fraud and deception, there was notthe shadow of a doubt. During the few hours which we spent in Miles,the cattle interests were duly aroused, and a committee of cowmen wereappointed to call on the post commander at Keogh with a formidableprotest, which would no doubt be supplemented later, on the return ofthe young lieutenant and his troopers. During our ride the nightbefore, Sponsilier and I had discussed the possibility of arousing theauthorities at Glendive. Since it was in the neighborhood of one hundredmiles from Powderville to the former point on the railroad, the herdswould consume nearly a week in reaching there. A freight train wascaught that afternoon, and within twenty-four hours after leaving thequarantine camp on the Powder River, we had opened headquarters at theStock Exchange Saloon in Glendive. On arriving, I deposited one hundreddollars with the proprietor of that bar-room, with the understandingthat it was to be used in getting an expression from the public inregard to the question of Texas fever. Before noon the next day, DaveSponsilier and Tom Quirk were not only the two most popular men inGlendive, but quarantine had been decided on with ringing resolutions.
Our standing was soon of the best. Horses were tendered us, and saddlingone I crossed the Yellowstone and started down the river to arouseoutlying ranches, while Sponsilier and a number of local cowmen rodesouth to locate a camp and a deadline. I was absent two days, havinggone north as far as Wolf Island, where I recrossed the river, returningon the eastern side of the valley. At no ranch which was visited did mymission fail of meeting hearty approval, especially on the western sideof the river, where severe losses from fever had been sustained the fallbefore. One ranch on Thirteen Mile offered, if necessary, to send everyman in its employ, with their own wagon and outfit of horses, free ofall charge, until quarantine was lifted. But I suggested, instead, thatthey send three or four men with their horses and blankets, leaving theremainder to be provided for by the local committee. In my two days'ride, over fifty volunteers were tendered, but I refused all excepttwenty, who were to report at Glendive not later than the morning of the6th. On my return to the railroad, all arrangements were completed andthe outlook was promising. Couriers had arrived from the south duringmy absence, bringing the news of the coming of the through Texas cattle,and warning the local ranches to clear the way or take the consequences.All native stock had been pushed west of the Powder and Yellowstone,as far north as Cabin Creek, which had been decided on as the secondquarantine-line. Daily reports were being received of the whereabouts ofthe moving herds, and at the rate they were traveling, they wouldreach Cabin Creek about the 7th. Two wagons had been outfitted, cooksemployed, and couriers dispatched to watch the daily progress of thecattle, which, if following the usual route, would strike the deadlinesome distance south of Glendive.
During the next few days, Sponsilier and I were social lions in thattown, and so great was our popularity we could have either married orbeen elected to office. We limited our losses at poker to so much anevening, and what we won from the merchant class we invariably lostamong the volunteer guards and cowmen, taking our luck with a sangfroidwhich proved us dead-game sports, and made us hosts of friends. We hadcontributed one hundred dollars to the general quarantine fund, and hadotherwise made ourselves popular with all classes in the brief time atour command. Under the pretense that we might receive orders at any timeto overtake our herds, we declined all leadership in the second campaignabout to be inaugurated against Texas fever. Dave and I were bothfeeling rather chesty over the masterful manner in which we had arousedthe popular feeling in favor of quarantine in our own interest, at thesame time making it purely a local movement. We were swaggering aboutlike ward-heelers, when on the afternoon of the 5th the unexpected againhappened. The business interests of the village usually turned out tomeet the daily passenger trains, even the poker-games taking a recessuntil the cars went past. The arrival and departure of citizens ofthe place were noted by every one, and strangers were looked uponwith timidity, very much as in all simple communities. Not taking anyinterest in the passing trains, Sponsilier was writing a letter tohis girl in Texas, while I was shaking dice for the cigars with thebartender of the Stock Exchange, when the Eastbound arrived. After thedeparture of the train, I did not take any notice of the return of theboys to the abandoned games, or the influx of patrons to the house,until some one laid a hand on my shoulder and quietly said, "Isn't yourname Quirk?"
Turning to the speaker, I was confronted by Mr. Field and Mr. Radcliff,who had just arrived by train from the west. Admitting my identity, Iinvited them to have a cigar or liquid refreshment, inquiring whencethey had come and where their cattle were. To my surprise, Fort Keoghwas named as their last refuge, and the herds were reported to cross therailroad within the next few days. Similar questions were asked me, butbefore replying, I caught Sponsilier's eye and summoned him with a wink.On Dave's presenting himself, I innocently asked the pair if they didnot remember my friend as one of the men whom they had under arrest atDodge. They grunted an embarrassed acknowledgment, which was returned inthe same coin, when I proceeded to inform them that our cattle crossedthe railroad at Little Missouri ten days before, and that we were onlywaiting the return of Mr. Lovell from the Crow Agency before proceedingto our destination. With true Yankee inquisitiveness, other questionsfollowed, the trend of which was to get us to admit that we hadsomething to do with the present activities in quarantining Texascattle. But I avoided their leading queries, and looked appealingly atSponsilier, who came to my rescue with an answer born of the moment.
"Well, gentlemen," said Dave, seating himself on the bar and leisurelyrolling a cigarette, "that town of Little Missouri is about the dullesthole that I was ever water-bound in. Honestly, I'd rather be with thecattle than loafing in it with money in my pocket. Now this town has gotsome get-up about it; I'll kiss a man's foot if he complains that thisburg isn't sporty enough for his blood. They've given me a run herefor my white alley, and I still think I know something about that gamecalled draw-poker. But you were speaking about quarantine. Yes; thereseems to have been a good many cattle lost through these parts lastfall. You ought to have sent your herds up through Dakota, where thereis no native stock to interfere. I'd hate to have cattle coming down thePowder River. A friend of mine passed through here yesterday; his herdwas sold for delivery on the Elkhorn, north of here, and he tells mehe may not be able to reach there before October. He saw your herds andtells me you are driving the guts out of them. So if there's anythingin that old 'ship-fever theory,' you ought to be quarantined until itsnows. There's a right smart talk around here of fixing a dead-linebelow somewhere, and if you get tied up before reaching the railroad,it won't surprise me a little bit. When it comes to handling the cattle,old man Don has the good hard cow-sense every time, but you shorthornsgive me a pain."
"What did I tell you?" said Radcliff, the elder one, to his partner, asthey turned to leave.
On nearing the door, Mr. Field halted and begru
dgingly said, "See youlater, Quirk."
"Not if I see you first," I replied; "you ain't my kind of cowmen."
Not even waiting for them to pass outside, Sponsilier, from his elevatedposition, called every one to the bar to irrigate. The boys quit theirgames, and as they lined up in a double row, Dave begged the bartendersto bestir themselves, and said to his guests: "Those are the kid-glovedcowmen that I've been telling you about--the owners of the Texas cattlethat are coming through here. Did I hang it on them artistically, orshall I call them back and smear it on a shade deeper? They smelt amouse all right, and when their cattle reach Cabin Creek, they'll smellthe rat in earnest. Now, set out the little and big bottle and everybodyhave a cigar on the side. And drink hearty, lads, for to-morrow we maybe drinking branch water in a quarantine camp."
The arrival of Field and Radcliff was accepted as a defiance to thelocal cattle interests. Popular feeling was intensified when it waslearned that they were determined not to recognize any local quarantine,and were secretly inquiring for extra men to guard their herds inpassing Glendive. There was always a rabble element in every frontiertown, and no doubt, as strangers, they could secure assistance inquarters that the local cowmen would spurn. Matters were approachinga white heat, when late that night an expected courier arrived, andreported the cattle coming through at the rate of twenty miles a day.They were not following any particular trail, traveling almost duenorth, and if the present rate of travel was maintained, Cabin Creekwould be reached during the forenoon of the 7th. This meant business,and the word was quietly passed around that all volunteers were to beready to move in the morning. A cowman named Retallac, owner of a rangeon the Yellowstone, had previously been decided on as captain, and wouldhave under him not less than seventy-five chosen men, which number, ifnecessary, could easily be increased to one hundred.
Morning dawned on a scene of active operations. The two wagons werestarted fully an hour in advance of the cavalcade, which was to follow,driving a remuda of over two hundred saddle horses. Sponsilier and Iexpected to accompany the outfit, but at the last moment our plans werechanged by an incident and we remained behind, promising to overtakethem later. There were a number of old buffalo hunters in town, livinga precarious life, and one of their number had quietly informed SheriffWherry that they had been approached with an offer of five dollars a dayto act as an escort to the herds while passing through. The quarantinecaptain looked upon that element as a valuable ally, suggesting that ifit was a question of money, our side ought to be in the market for theirservices. Heartily agreeing with him, the company of guards started,leaving their captain behind with Sponsilier and myself. Glendive was acounty seat, and with the assistance of the sheriff, we soon had everybuffalo hunter in the town corralled. They were a fine lot of rough men,inclined to be convivial, and with the assistance of Sheriff Wherry,coupled with the high standing of the quarantine captain, on a soldier'sintroduction Dave and I made a good impression among them. Sponsilierdid the treating and talking, his offer being ten dollars a day for aman and horse, which was promptly accepted, when the question naturallyarose who would stand sponsor for the wages. Dave backed off somedistance, and standing on his left foot, pulled off his right boot,shaking out a roll of money on the floor.
"There's the long green, boys," said he, "and you fellows can name yourown banker. I'll make it up a thousand, and whoever you say goes withme. Shall it be the sheriff, or Mr. Retallac, or the proprietor of theStock Exchange?"
Sheriff Wherry interfered, relieving the embarrassment in appointing areceiver, and vouched that these two Texans were good for any reasonablesum. The buffalo hunters approved, apologizing to Sponsilier, as hepulled on his boot, for questioning his financial standing, and swearingallegiance in every breath. An hour's time was granted in which tosaddle and make ready, during which we had a long chat with SheriffWherry and found him a valuable ally. He had cattle interests in thecountry, and when the hunters appeared, fifteen strong, he mounted hishorse and accompanied us several miles on the way. "Now, boys," said he,at parting, "I'll keep an eye over things around town, and if anythingimportant happens, I'll send a courier with the news. If thoseshorthorns attempt to offer any opposition, I'll run a blazer on them,and if necessary I'll jug the pair. You fellows just buffalo the herds,and the sheriff's office will keep cases on any happenings aroundGlendive. It's understood that night or day your camp can be found onCabin Creek, opposite the old eagle tree. Better send me word as soon asthe herds arrive. Good luck to you, lads."
Neither wagons nor guards were even sighted during our three hours' rideto the appointed campground. On our arrival tents were being pitched andmen were dragging up wood, while the cooks were busily preparing a latedinner, the station being fully fifteen miles south of the railroad.Scouts were thrown out during the afternoon, corrals built, and eveningfound the quarantine camp well established for the comfort of itsninety-odd men. The buffalo hunters were given special attention andchristened the "Sponsilier Guards;" they took again to outdoor life asin the old days. The report of the scouts was satisfactory; all threeof the herds had been seen and would arrive on schedule time. A hush ofexpectancy greeted this news, but Sponsilier and I ridiculed the ideathat there would be any opposition, except a big talk and plenty ofbluffing.
"Well, if that's what they rely on," said Captain Retallac, "thenthey're as good as in quarantine this minute. If you feel certain theycan't get help from Fort Keogh a second time, those herds will be ourguests until further orders. What we want to do now is to spike everypossible chance for their getting any help, and the matter will passover like a summer picnic. If you boys think there's any danger of anappeal to Fort Buford, the military authorities want to be notifiedthat the Yellowstone Valley has quarantined against Texas fever and askstheir cooperation in enforcing the same."
"I can fix that," replied Sponsilier. "We have lawyers at Buford rightnow, and I can wire them the situation fully in the morning. If theyrely on the military, they will naturally appeal to the nearest post,and if Keogh and Buford turn them down, the next ones are on theMissouri River, and at that distance cavalry couldn't reach here withinten days. Oh, I think we've got a grapevine twist on them this time."
Sponsilier sat up half the night wording a message to our attorneys atFort Buford. The next morning found me bright and early on the road toGlendive with the dispatch, the sending of which would deplete my cashon hand by several dollars, but what did we care for expense when wehad the money and orders to spend it? I regretted my absence from thequarantine camp, as I was anxious to be present on the arrival of theherds, and again watch the "major-domo" run on the rope and fume andcharge in vain. But the importance of blocking assistance was so urgentthat I would gladly have ridden to Buford if necessary. In that bracingatmosphere it was a fine morning for the ride, and I was rapidlycrossing the country, when a vehicle, in the dip of the plain, wassighted several miles ahead. I was following no road, but when thedriver of the conveyance saw me he turned across my front and signaled.On meeting the rig, I could hardly control myself from laughingoutright, for there on the rear seat sat Field and Radcliff, extremelygruff and uncongenial. Common courtesies were exchanged betweenthe driver and myself, and I was able to answer clearly his leadingquestions: Yes; the herds would reach Cabin Creek before noon; theold eagle tree, which could be seen from the first swell of the plainbeyond, marked the quarantine camp, and it was the intention to isolatethe herds on the South Fork of Cabin. "Drive on," said a voice, and, inthe absence of any gratitude expressed, I inwardly smiled in reward.
I was detained in Glendive until late in the day, waiting for anacknowledgment of the message. Sheriff Wherry informed me that the onlymove attempted on the part of the shorthorn drovers was the arrestof Sponsilier and myself, on the charge of being accomplices in theshooting of one of their men on the North Platte. But the sheriffhad assured the gentlemen that our detention would have no effect onquarantining their cattle, and the matter was taken under advisement anddropped. It was lat
e when I started for camp that evening. The drovershad returned, accompanied by their superintendent, and were occupyingthe depot, burning the wires in every direction. I was risking nochances, and cultivated the company of Sheriff Wherry until theacknowledgment arrived, when he urged me to ride one of his horses inreturning to camp, and insisted on my taking a carbine. Possibly thiswas fortunate, for before I had ridden one third the distance to thequarantine camp, I met a cavalcade of nearly a dozen men from theisolated herds. When they halted and inquired the distance to Glendive,one of their number recognized me as having been among the quarantineguards at Powderville. I admitted that I was there, turning my horse sothat the carbine fell to my hand, and politely asked if any one hadany objections. It seems that no one had, and after a few commonplaceinquiries were exchanged, we passed on our way.
There was great rejoicing on Cabin Creek that night. Songs were sung,and white navy beans passed current in numerous poker-games until thesmall hours of morning. There had been nothing dramatic in the meetingbetween the herds and the quarantine guards, the latter force havingbeen augmented by visiting ranchmen and their help, until protest wouldhave been useless. A routine of work had been outlined, much stricterthan at Powderville, and a surveillance of the camps was constantlymaintained. Not that there was any danger of escape, but to see thatthe herds occupied the country allotted to them, and did not pollute anymore territory than was necessary. The Sponsilier Guards were given aneasy day shift, and held a circle of admirers at night, recounting andliving over again "the good old days." Visitors from either side of theYellowstone were early callers, and during the afternoon the sherifffrom Glendive arrived. I did not know until then that Mr. Wherry wasa candidate for reelection that fall, but the manner in which he mixedwith the boys was enough to warrant his election for life. Whatendeared him to Sponsilier and myself was the fund of information hehad collected, and the close tab he had kept on every movement of theopposition drovers. He told us that their appeal to Fort Keogh forassistance had been refused with a stinging rebuke; that a courier hadstarted the evening before down the river for Fort Buford, and that Mr.Radcliff had personally gone to Fort Abraham Lincoln to solicit help.The latter post was fully one hundred and fifty miles away, butthat distance could be easily covered by a special train in case ofgovernment interference.
It rained on the afternoon of the 9th. The courier had returned fromFort Buford on the north, unsuccessful, as had also Mr. Radcliff fromFort Lincoln on the Missouri River to the eastward. The latter post hadreferred the request to Keogh, and washed its hands of intermeddling ina country not tributary to its territory. The last hope of interferencewas gone, and the rigors of quarantine closed in like a siege withevery gun of the enemy spiked. Let it be a week or a month before thequarantine was lifted, the citizens of Montana had so willed it, andtheir wish was law. Evening fell, and the men drew round the fires. Theguards buttoned their coats as they rode away, and the tired ones drewtheir blankets around them as they lay down to sleep. Scarcely a starcould be seen in the sky overhead, but before my partner or myselfsought our bed, a great calm had fallen, the stars were shining, and thenight had grown chilly.
The old buffalo hunters predicted a change in the weather, but beyondthat they were reticent. As Sponsilier and I lay down to sleep, weagreed that if three days, even two days, were spared us, those cattlein quarantine could never be tendered at Fort Buford on the appointedday of delivery. But during the early hours of morning we were arousedby the returning guards, one of whom halted his horse near our blanketsand shouted, "Hey, there, you Texans; get up--a frost has fallen!"
Sure enough, it had frosted during the night, and the quarantine waslifted. When day broke, every twig and blade of grass glistened insilver sheen, and the horses on picket stood humped and shivering. Thesun arose upon the herds moving, with no excuse to say them nay, andorders were issued to the guards to break camp and disperse to theirhomes. As we rode into Glendive that morning, sullen and defeated bya power beyond our control, in speaking of the peculiarity of theintervention, Sponsilier said: "Well, if it rains on the just and theunjust alike, why shouldn't it frost the same."
