by Jim Cox
The next morning, the men rose early, said their goodbyes, and headed for their horses. Jake had already prepared their mounts for the trip and had tied them to the corral fence.
“Where’s Star?” asked Liz, after noticing she was absent from the string.
“She’s heavy with Black’s colt,” responded her father. “It was an effort for her to keep up yesterday, so we’ve decided to rest her. She shouldn’t be ridden again until she delivers.”
“When is she due, Papa?”
“In about six weeks,” he said. “And Liz, it will be your responsibility to name and take care of her foal when it’s born.” Liz turned to her mother and smiled.
The men left for another two days of hard, dusty work. Their job would be somewhat easier than the previous day due to the experience learned by horse and man. However, the greatest advantage would come from the long-horned, brindle boss cow. She was now being driven back to help bring in the next group.
After three drives were concluded, a final trip was made to root out the strays and to fetch the remaining cows with young calves. The men knew there were still a few cows left behind, but they’d have to be collected on next year’s drive.
Thomas rode slowly among the cows in the boxed canyon, making a concerted effort to count the animals. After he had finished counting, he rode to the gate where Douglas and Bart stood. “What’s your estimate?” asked Herb.
“There are thirty to thirty-five head carrying the HJ brand. That’s the brand for the Henry James ranch. They’ll need to be returned. I’d say we have ten bulls and a hundred seventy-five cows carrying the Double Box brand. Nearly every branded cow has a calf beside her. There’re also about seventy-five unbranded cows. Most have a calf beside them or soon to drop one. There’s a hundred fifty head of uncut stock. Some of those are yearlings, and some are two-year-olds.”
“How many females will we end up with this year? How many for breeding?”
“We’ll have over three hundred and twenty-five head of cows to be bred this season and over two hundred and twenty head of quality young stuff that can be bred next year. That is if you don’t sell any.”
Herb was amazed at the size of the herd that had already accumulated. “We won’t be selling any of the females suitable for breeding, Thomas, not until we get the herd built up.” Minutes passed while calculations were taking place in Douglas’ mind. “How about market animals, Thomas? If we keep back the breeding cows, how many do we have for sale this year?”
“There are over a hundred mature bulls that can be sold after being castrated, but they won’t bring much—maybe seven or eight dollars a head. The two hundred and twenty head of young stuff that we’ll turn into steers will bring between fifteen and twenty dollars. I imagine we’ll get top price because of their breeding. The buyers will like the quality of these white face cattle.”
“That’s over four thousand dollars,” Douglas said enthusiastically.
“You figured right, Herb. You’ve done well for your first year in the cattle business,” Thomas said with a smile.
“It wouldn’t have happened without you, Thomas. I’ll be forever thankful.”
Chapter Thirty
The month of May began with a work schedule that seemed impossible to fulfill. Horses were needed for the cow branding, so a few of the wild Vincent horses rounded up during the cow drives were shoed. The stallions were castrated, and the breaking process started. Under Thomas’ coaching, Bart proved to be quite good at staying in the saddle when the wild broncos bucked, fishtailed, and tried everything possible to throw their rider. After breaking, the horses had to be taught to plant themselves and pull back when their rider lassoed a cow.
Day after day, the husbandry work of preparing the cattle continued. It was decided the bulls would be castrated first, so they’d be healed and ready to join a cattle drive if one presented itself. Bart and Jake did the roping and dragged the bulls to the branding fire where Douglas and Thomas secured a second and third rope around their legs. Then they pulled the bull’s front and hind legs wide apart to immobilize them before dismounting to place a DD brand on their rump and perform the castration. The castrated bulls were then placed outside the restriction, but the bulls kept for breeding were branded and left among their cows.
Liz and her mother visited Flat Peaks in mid-May to purchase seeds and other needed supplies. They also intended to have a quick lunch with their café friends and start back home shortly afterward. However, conversations stretched on and on while the afternoon hours slipped away. Liz and her mother rode home in the dark. The following day, Jake helped the women plant a garden.
The last two weeks of May were very eventful at the Double D Ranch. Star gave birth to a beautiful filly which Liz named Star Light. She was black with a star like her mother’s. And two days after the steers were ready for sale a belated birthday party was given for Bart. He’d turned fifteen several weeks before. During the party, Thomas suggested they return the Henry James’ stock and find out if he knew of any planned cattle drives. “Should we go there before branding our cows?” Bart asked.
“I believe so. If we wait much longer, all the drives in the area will have left,” Thomas said.
Eyes moved about, reading one another’s thoughts even though words were not spoken—it was like that in the West. Men working side by side in dangerous conditions developed a sense of what their comrades were thinking. “We’ll leave at first light,” Douglas said decidedly.
By midmorning the next day, the HJ stock was being driven across the Henry James range. The ranch was huge. It bordered Flat Peaks on the west and ran fifteen miles east, consisting of 100,000 acres; the James homestead was in the middle of the ranch. Several men, including Mr. James, met the herd when it approached the corrals a quarter of a mile north of the James homestead at twilight.
Henry James was a pleasant looking man with graying hair. He looked to be about fifty-five and was average height with a barrel chest. He carried no fat and was dressed in a plaid shirt, a brown leather vest, and a black hat with a high crown. The other riders were dressed similarly to their boss.
“Howdy, Henry,” Thomas said. “We’ve brought a few of your cows back. They’d taken up with the Vincent herd.”
“Much obliged,” James replied, eyeing his cows for a couple minutes. “I see several unbranded animals among them. Did you mean to bring them, too?”
Douglas intervened. “It was obvious they belonged to you, Mr. James. They stayed close to their mammas carrying your brand.”
“That’s neighborly of you. Usually, only branded animals are returned.”
“The Double D will return anything that logically belongs to our neighbor,” responded Douglas.
Thomas hurriedly interrupted. “Meet Herb Douglas, Henry. Herb’s the new owner of the Vincent place, moved in last fall. I believe you know Stu? He goes by ‘Jake’ these days. This young man beside me is Bart Carter.”
“Good to make your acquaintance. The women at Jenny’s Place have been telling me about you. That you’re the kind of folks this country needs. They say you’ll make good neighbors.”
“Thanks, Mr. James. I’m available if you ever need my help,” Herb interjected.
“My neighbors call me Henry, and if you don’t mind, I’ll be calling you Herb.”
Henry turned his horse toward Bart and with a nod said, “You must be the young man I’ve been hearing about? I hear you go by the name of Scar?”
“That’s what some folks call me, sir. But my real name is Bart Carter.”
“Let’s head for the house. Supper will be ready soon, and I need to tell Maria to fix some extra vittles. By the way, we have plenty of spare beds in the bunkhouse, no need to start for home at this late hour.”
As the others rode toward the ranch house, Henry motioned for Douglas to hang back with him. “I want to thank you for what you’ve done for Jug. It was a shame to see the state he got himself into years back. He became nothing but a town
drunk. I was here when he came west. He was an outstanding man. A good family and businessman, an asset to the community, but then he got to drinkin’. Guess you know the story?”
“Yes, I do, at least most of it. My wife, Alice, gets the credit for getting him sober. It was an uphill climb, but she got hold of him and wouldn’t let go.” Douglas paused for a minute and then continued. “We wouldn’t have the ranch without Thomas’ help. He put the entire plan together.”
“I heard about that. Anyway, I wanted to tell you how much your efforts have been noticed by the folks around here. We’re pleased to see him get a chance to make something of himself again.”
“I appreciate knowing folks are glad he’s got his life back together. It was worth the effort.” Douglas added, “Henry, I’d like to ask you to know Jug by his given name again. We call him Thomas now.” Mr. James gave a nod of understanding.
The house sat on a knoll overlooking vast grasslands in all directions. After tending their horses, the men washed themselves and were then taken to the dining room where they were seated among the ranch hands at a long table. It was a huge house with large, well-furnished rooms. Mr. James sat at the head of the table, and his wife sat at the other end near the kitchen. After Maria set several platters of food on the table, Henry said a blessing and the food was quickly passed. After coffee, the ranch hands excused themselves, leaving the Double D men to visit with Mr. and Mrs. James.
The evening passed quickly with interesting conversations. Mr. James told stories of his adventures coming west nearly twenty years earlier, and how his ranch had grown into its present holdings. Mrs. James asked Mr. Douglas about his family, saying she was anxious to meet Alice and Liz. A great deal of small talk passed back and forth before Henry guided the four visitors to the bunkhouse.
Over breakfast the next morning, Douglas asked Mr. James if he knew of any cattle drives starting. Douglas explained the Double D had over three hundred head they wanted to sell.
“I’ll be starting a drive as soon as we’re through branding, which should be within a couple of weeks,” answered Mr. James. “I’d be pleased to have your herd join ours.”
“I appreciate your help, Henry,” Herb offered. “I’m new at this sort of thing.” Henry returned Herb’s comments with a nod.
There was a minute of silence before Henry interjected. “We plan to take the herd to Omaha, Nebraska, this year. I hear the price there is around twenty dollars, depending on the herd’s quality. For years I took the herd to California, but over time their price deteriorated, causing me to switch to Sedalia, Missouri. Then recently, Missouri and Kansas established quarantine laws, because of the deadly Texas fever disease, spread by cattle ticks, which prohibited cattle from entering those states.”
“How long will it take the drive to get to Omaha?” Bart asked.
“I’d say a little over ten weeks. The trip would be faster if we wanted to push things, but I like to take it slow, allowing the stock to eat along the way to maintain their weight. Prices are higher for heavier animals.”
Platters were passed, and breakfast continued. As coffee was being poured, Mr. James asked, “Bart, would you be interested in helping Rowdy on the cattle drive? Rowdy does the cooking on our drives. The pay is fifty cents a day, plus all the food you can eat. It’ll be hard work, but it’s an experience that’ll last a lifetime.”
Eyes turned toward Bart, especially Douglas’. “No, sir, I can’t. I appreciate the offer, but I made a commitment to Mr. Douglas that I’d stay with him for two years.” There was a sigh of relief among the Double D men. “But,” Bart continued, “Mr. James, if the job is still available come next year, I’d be obliged for the work.”
“We have a deal. I’ll tell Rowdy to count you in for next year’s drive.”
Three days later the Double D men drove their steers to the James’ ranch. When they returned home, they started the cow branding process. It was back-breaking work, from first light to dusk, but by mid-July, the branding finally ended and the cows were moved back to the grasslands.
Work could now begin on the Douglas house. Floor drawings and building specifications for a large, six room house were sketched on one of Liz’s school tablets. The plan was to build the house in phases over the following two to three years. Phase one began the first week of August by cutting trees and dragging the trimmed logs to the building site.
One afternoon in mid-August when logs were being sized, a small, well-dressed man rode in on a spotted Appaloosa horse. He was a stranger to everyone but Thomas. “Howdy, Jug—I mean Thomas. Good to see you. I hear tell things are going well for you these days?”
“What brings you out this way, Boss?” Thomas asked.
“Mr. James asked me to deliver this envelope to Mr. Douglas.”
“I’m Douglas,” Herb said as he stepped forward. “You’re welcome to sit awhile and join us for some coffee. We have some bread and apple butter if you’re hungry.”
“I’m not hungry, but coffee sure sounds good.” Mrs. Douglas and Liz were already on their way with coffee, knowing western men drank coffee whenever it was offered. As cups were filled, Thomas made introductions. “Boss is the foreman at the Henry James Ranch. I’ve never heard him called by his given name—even Henry calls him Boss. He’s known as a cow savvy man in these parts, and he’s earned every bit of his reputation through hard work and keeping his end of a bargain. His word is gospel at the Henry James ranch.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, Thomas,” Boss said with a smile.
“Do you go on Mr. James’ cattle drives?” asked Bart.
“I always go, I’m the trail boss. You must be the boy named Scar that Henry’s been talking about? I understand you’ll be going with us next year.” No one, except Mrs. Douglas, noticed the glare on Liz’s face when Boss mentioned Bart would be going on next year’s drive.
After Boss left, all of the Double D folks gathered around Douglas who held the envelope containing the first income for the Double D Ranch. Douglas slowly opened the envelope and removed a $4,375 check. When folks around him saw the check, their faces brightened, but quickly became sober again as they looked into Mr. Douglas’ watery eyes. Mrs. Douglas reached for his empty hand. At first, words wouldn’t come, but finally, in a choked voice he said, “I’ll be sharing this with all of you as soon as I can get to the bank.”
By late August, the first logs for the house were being laid, and though snow delayed the building process several times, the first phase of the ranch house was completed by mid-December, ready for the Douglases to move in.
The men were in the process of moving from the barn into the recently vacated cabin when dark clouds started moving across the mountains. “Looks like we’ve got a big one coming,” Thomas said, nodding to the west.
“It-it-it’s a-a-a-about t-t-t-time to get-get snowed-in for-for the-the-the win-win-winter.”
“I believe we’re ready, Jake,” suggested Douglas. “We have plenty of hay, lots of wood cut and everyone’s moved to their new quarters.”
Jake was right. The snow came, and the temperature dropped—winter had set in. Folks were restless being cooped up but soon fell into the same routine as the previous year. Daily chores were performed and afternoons were filled with games or reading. Jake dedicated himself to his schooling, spending several hours each day with Liz going over numbers or reading more difficult books. Every now and then he encountered questions requiring Mrs. Douglas’s instruction. Bart’s boxing lessons had been suspended during the summer but resumed now it was winter. After a few days of practice, the moves returned, and he started building on techniques he had previously learned.
It was during a boxing session in early January that Mr. Douglas started a conversation with Bart about his future. They talked for over an hour exploring the various avenues he could take, noting the advantages and pitfalls of each. Afterward, Bart put on his gloves and went to the punching bag. When he had completed his workout, Mr. Douglas brought up another s
ubject. “I’ve noticed you’ve started growing a mustache and whiskers, Bart. It won’t be long before you’ll need to shave. You can use my razor when you’re ready.”
“I thought I’d let my beard grow to cover up my scar. Of course, it’ll take a long time before the fuzz I have will cover much.” They both laughed.
“I don’t know about that,” challenged Mr. Douglas. “You have thick, dark hair. I predict you’ll have a heavy beard within a few months. And I’ve noticed you’ve started a growing spurt, Bart. Your britches are well above your ankles, and your shirts are a couple sizes too small. As soon as the weather breaks, you need to head for town and buy some new clothes.”
“I’ve been thinking about that myself, Mr. Douglas. Maybe I should put my pant legs inside my boots till then?” Douglas nodded his approval.
That night as Bart lay in his bunk, he whispered, “You said I’d grow when I got older, Pa. You were right. I think maybe I’ve started.”
Part III: Leaving the Ranch
Chapter Thirty-One
Winter finally gave way to longer days and clear skies. Spring flowers came alive with buds and an occasional flower. Preparations were being made for the spring work, including the first roundup which would start in two weeks. No specific jobs had been assigned yet. It was at the supper table during this lull that Mrs. Douglas announced, “Liz and I will be doing some shopping in town tomorrow. We’ll be leaving shortly after breakfast and should be back by dark. If anyone wants to come along, you’re welcome.”
“Mind if I go?” Bart asked. “I need to buy some new clothes. Mine are a little tight these days.” They all laughed, except Liz. She had not been herself for the past few days. It seemed like her mind was elsewhere.
