Scar and the Double D Ranch

by Jim Cox

  Sometime later, Scar was in the telegraph office reading a wire from the governor. It said there was no change to the plans made at Denver, that the president was still under pressure in Washington, and that Scar should be patient.

  »»•««

  Two days later, Scar and Tony crossed the Indian trace, climbed the hill out of the gorge, and stood looking at the Double D homestead. It was mid-afternoon. For the past two days, the sky had stayed clear, the daytime temperature had remained in the high forties, and the south wind continued to bring warmth. Melted snow was now running downhill wherever the terrain would allow. Things were looking up.

  Scar was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying coffee and one of Morning Sun’s cookies when Jake walked in. “Sit down, Jake. Have a cookie.” Jake pulled out a chair, leaned his crutches against the wall, and sat across the table from him. Morning Sun was busy preparing the evening meal, but after hearing the invitation brought Jake’s coffee and a platter of cookies to the table.

  After each man had eaten a couple of cookie, Jake began. “I want to thank you for coming up with the newspaper idea, Bart. I can’t wait to get started. It’ll be suited for me with my bum leg.” He paused for a few seconds and then continued. “Deep down I’ve wanted to get involved in the newspaper printing business for some time. I’ve liked that sort of thing since I was taught to read and write several years ago.”

  “I’m glad you’re enthused with the plan, Jake. I told Jenny about it while I was in town and she agreed to sell the land for two hundred dollars.”

  “It’ll be a great location. Mr. Douglas asked me to draft a letter to the newspaper editor in Denver, setting the date for my training and to get details to order the printing press.” Jake was all smiles.

  Scar returned the smile and asked, “How’s your leg these days?”

  “It’s doing much better. I think I’ll be able to walk without crutches in a week or two, and I don’t think my limp will be as bad as we originally thought.”

  After Morning Sun had gathered the dirty dishes that evening, the clan was lazily sitting around when Scar brought up the subject of the Ross ranch being for sale. This was the last topic on Scar’s agenda. He’d already talked with Mr. Douglas about the lack of hay and the purchase of the building sites.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Ross have put in fifteen years of their life at that place. Can’t he work something out with the bank?” Mr. Douglas asked. Scar repeated the sheriff’s comments concerning Ross’ lack of payments for three years. “That’s a shame,” said Mr. Douglas. Minutes passed before he continued, “How much will the bank be asking for the ranch after they’ve foreclosed?”

  “Eli said the bank only wants to recover the loan balance,” Scar answered. “He said the balance is a little over seventy thousand dollars including interest.” Eyes brightened, knowing the price was considerably under the ranch’s value. No one spoke for a few minutes.

  “The Ross spread would be a good addition to the Double D,” Douglas said to no one in particular. “We’d have to borrow the money from the bank.”

  “The sheriff thinks the bank would transfer the mortgage to the Double D with interest payments only for the first two years,” countered Scar.

  All eyes went to Douglas. “It sounds good. I’ll admit that. But our first priority is the Double D. We can’t put it in jeopardy. My projection is that we’ll have only half the stock for sale this year compared to last. Maybe we’ll do better, but we can’t count on it. We have plenty of funds in the bank to hold us over, including money needed for the newspaper and dress shop ventures.”

  “Let’s not make a hasty decision, Herb,” said Mrs. Douglas. “Why don’t we wait until the bank has given notice and then investigate what’s involved? We can survey the land, check for watering holes, and determine how many cows are still alive. Then we can make a more intelligent decision.”

  “That’s a good plan. We’ll survey the Ross ranch as soon as the snow melts.”

  »»•««

  Two weeks later, the snow was gone except on the north side of hills as the mid-April temperature climbed into the sixties, giving the land a much-needed rest from the recent harsh winter. The prairie grass seemed to be growing at an accelerated rate, and the cows were taking advantage of it. Several calves were already running about, and many more would soon be born. The cows were extremely thin, but the calves were fleshy and in good condition. That was nature’s way. If nutrients were limited, all mothers will take what nutrients are needed from their own body and supply them to the unborn fetus.

  The four Double D men spent the last week of April burning cow carcasses. They began by pulling a dozen dead trees from the timber to an engulfment between two prairie ridges. Afterward, their count indicated they had pulled two hundred sixty-eight head of known dead cows to the site. The mortality was less than the five hundred they had estimated, though the men conceded some cows had probably wandered away and their bodies had been missed. The wolves had undoubtedly taken some.

  Cow carcasses were piled on top of the dead trees. After the men had packed a good amount of pine needles under the trees, the needles were lit. Within minutes, black smoke filled the area and continued to do so for several hours.

  A few days after the cow burning, the clan had settled on the porch waiting for Morning Sun to call them for supper when Thomas spoke up, “Now that we’ve disposed of the dead cows, are we ready to get started on the roundup, Herb?”

  “Do you think it’s time? Have all of the calves been born?” Scar asked.

  “Not all of them,” Thomas answered, “but I’d say the majority of the cows have calved. We can start with them and leave the stragglers to the tail end.”

  “You’re the boss when it comes to the cows, Thomas. Tell us what to do and when to do it,” Mr. Douglas said. Thomas started, “We can spend a couple hours in the morning loading the chuck wagon before we head for the cows. Scar, why don’t you and Tony get the branding irons, and cutting knives? Make sure the knives are razor sharp. Don’t forget the whetstones. We’ll also need an ax and saw. Herb, you can be responsible for the grub. Bring enough for five days. I’ll get the horse string. Twelve head should be enough.” Thomas was about to give more orders when Morning Sun called them for supper.

  After the plates had been gathered, Mrs. Douglas said, “Before supper, we heard you men say you’d be starting the roundup tomorrow. What about the Ross ranch? Weren’t we supposed to make a decision on buying it as soon as the snow melts?”

  “Yes, we were,” her husband answered, “but I’m not convinced we should take it on at this time. I don’t want to jeopardize the Double D.”

  “But Papa.” Liz started to say something but stopped.

  “What is it, Liz? What were you about to say?” her father asked. Mrs. Douglas spoke up, answering for her daughter. “She was about to say we should at least go ahead with the survey, that there would never be a better opportunity to expand the Double D at the price being asked, and that we’re intelligent people, capable of managing the undertaking and making it a success. And if you don’t buy the Ross place, you’ll look back upon it as a missed opportunity.”

  Alice Douglas observed the stunned faces around the table. They had never seen her challenge her husband before in front of the whole clan. She hurriedly recomposed herself and asked her daughter in a rather self-deprecating tone, “That is what you were about to say, wasn’t it Liz?” Liz’s eyes were blank as all gazes went from her to the head of the clan. The silence was deafening.

  Mr. Douglas’s gaze into his wife’s large, green eyes was piercing. It was not a stare of reprimand, but one of admiration. He was even smiling slightly. Not only was she his wife and closest friend, she was also his business partner with equal say, and her opinion was often right.

  “I guess we can put off the roundup for a day or two,” Mr. Douglas said. “I want to visit with Mr. Ross before we begin a survey. If all goes well, and he agrees to it, we men can conduct th
e survey the following day.” Everyone relaxed with speculation about the Ross ranch. Morning Sun poured more coffee. Folks sat drinking coffee with thoughts on the upcoming challenge. It was an exciting time for the Double D.

  When the clan went to the porch to watch the evening shadows form, Alice called her husband back. “I’m sorry I spoke to you like that, Herb, especially in front of everyone.”

  “I’m grateful to you, sweetheart. You were right. We need to take advantage of the situation since it’s inevitable the Ross’ will be moving.”

  “Thank you, dear.” With that, they turned and hand-in-hand headed for the porch. As Mr. Douglas opened the door for his wife, she said nonchalantly, “I’ll be going to the Ross Ranch with you tomorrow. I haven’t spent much time with them, but enough to tell them goodbye.” Mr. Douglas only nodded. What else could he do?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The spring of 1878 was a busy time for the Double D. Morning lessons around the kitchen table were put on hold. The schooling during the winter months had been successful. Little Eagle and Little Turtle could now read rather difficult books, were well along in numbers, and could speak English rather well. The Ute language was also taking hold with the class, and during some school days, the tongue had been restricted to the Ute language.

  The calves had been branded and the males castrated. The Ross ranch had been purchased and was now a part of the Double D. The two buildings in town were under construction. The equipment had been ordered, both the sewing machine and printing press. Jake would be leaving for Denver soon to begin his two-month training period. He could now walk without crutches or a walking cane and was pleased his limp was not nearly as severe as the doctor had originally predicted.

  Springtime brought new life to the homestead and the ranch. The garden was planted. One of the milk cows had given birth to a lovely heifer calf. Baby chicks had hatched and two foals belonging to Star and Starlight were running about in the corral. Black had matters under control at the horseshoe canyon by the waterfall. Several new foals had been born, many resembling their father’s characteristics, including his black coloring. Since June was only a week away, supper time discussions turned to the upcoming cattle drive. “What’s your plan, Thomas?” Douglas asked. “When do we get started?”

  “I was in town yesterday and hired six wranglers. They’ll be here next week. In the meantime, I thought we could begin to round up the stock at the Ross place. We’ll get them branded and castrated, and drive them over here, so they can join our drive to the James ranch.” Thomas paused, collecting his thoughts. “Ross must have had a terrible winter loss. I don’t believe there’s over seven hundred head remaining. It would be best to sell them all. From what I saw during our survey, they’re mostly Longhorns of low quality and not fit to be included in our breeding program.”

  “When should we head out, Thomas?” Douglas asked.

  “It’s up to you, Herb, but we might as well get started. I’d suggest we leave tomorrow.”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll leave for the Ross ranch in the morning. You men be here for breakfast at five o’clock.” Mr. Douglas looked at Morning Sun. She nodded.

  “What happened to the Ross’ dead cow carcasses? Are they still lying around?” Liz’s question was unexpected, but her father responded.

  “Mr. Ross disposed of them in the same manner as the Double D, Liz. It was the last ranch work he did before leaving. He blamed himself for letting them die and said it was his responsibility to dispose of them.”

  Two weeks later, the cattle for sale had been driven to the Henry James Ranch and were already on the long drive to Omaha. The number of Double D cows on the drive was down substantially, in part due to the bad winter, but mostly because the ranch would be keeping back all of its heifers to restock the Ross ranch. The sale of the entire Ross herd would help offset part of the shortfall, and if Henry James’ prediction was accurate, the price per head this year would be up by at least two dollars and maybe as much as five, which would provide the Double D with adequate operating funds.

  A few evenings later, when Douglas and Thomas were alone in the office, Douglas said, “Thomas, I want you to have the men drive the Double D cows to the Ross ranch.”

  The foreman looked surprised. “Do you want all of the cows taken over, Herb?”

  “Yes. I want to start preparing for a winter like we’ve just come through. I’ve made a commitment to myself not to lose another head of stock due to the lack of feed. Not ever again will it happen.”

  “What’s your plan, Herb?”

  Douglas spent a minute or two organizing his mind. “While the herd grazes at the Ross range this summer, we’ll make one or two cuttings of the Double D prairie grass and haul the hay to the cow’s hideout places. The grass should grow good this year with no grazing and should yield a substantial amount of hay.”

  “How are we going to get the grass cut and hauled to the hideouts, Herb?”

  “I want to put ten men on the job, cutting continuously for the entire summer. We’ll start with the grass at the fastest growing areas and migrate to the slower growing areas. When all of the grass has been cut once, we’ll start over. The grass should have grown back by then.”

  “How are we going to keep the cows from eating the hay when we bring them back here, Herb?”

  “We’ll build a fence around the hay piles with the new barb wire we’ve been hearing about. I understand the mercantile has some in stock.”

  “When do you want me to start the project?”

  “We might as well get started. You organize the moving of the cows. I’ll send Scar to town to hire men and buy the supplies.”

  Two days later Scar pulled his team and wagon up to the front of the Flat Peaks mercantile and went inside. “What can I do for you, Scar?” the store clerk asked.

  Handing a paper to the clerk, he said, “Mrs. Douglas wants this list filled, and I need some ranch supplies. My wagon is outside, but I won’t be leaving until tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I’ll have the list filled. What kind of supplies do you need?”

  “I need ten scythes and some of that new barb wire.”

  The clerk took on a puzzled look and asked, “How many rolls of barb wire do you need, Scar?”

  “How much does a roll have on it?”

  “A thousand feet,” the clerk answered.

  “I’ll take twenty rolls.”

  “This sure is a strange order. What’s going on?”

  “Mr. Douglas wants to put up enough hay to last the winter, no matter what the weather conditions are like. He doesn’t want to get caught again without enough feed like we did this year. We’re going to cut hay all summer and put it in strategic locations. Then we’ll protect it with a barb wire fence, so the cows can’t get to it. It won’t be used during normal winters, only severe winters.”

  “What if we don’t have another bad winter for several years? Won’t the hay turn bad?” asked the clerk.

  “The top few inches might go bad, but if the grass is dried sufficiently to start with, it’ll last for many years,” Scar answered. Scar started for the door but turned back. “I’ll be back later on this afternoon for my rig. Have it loaded by then if you can.” The store clerk nodded.

  Scar crossed the street and walked to the construction sites. The dress shop was fifty feet south of the café. The newspaper building was another fifty feet farther south. Both buildings were identical and had studs in place to identify the rooms. Large windows were on each side of the door. The front room was twenty-foot square with living quarters in the rear. The head carpenter told Scar they’d be starting on the roof in two or three days and predicted they’d be completely finished with both buildings in two months.

  Scar was about to leave the building site when the sheriff walked up. After they shook hands, the lawman invited Scar to the café for coffee. “Scar,” the sheriff stated, “I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “What is it, Sheriff? You know I
’ll oblige if I can.”

  “I was having coffee with the stagecoach driver a few days back. He alerted me about the railroad coming our way. He said hundreds of men were working on the project. Men who work hard and play hard. He said the last town the tracks came through, the crews destroyed property, raped saloon women, hurt five men severely, and killed a man. He said at the rate they’re progressing, they’ll be to Flat Peaks by the first of November. I’m worried I’ll not be able to control the situation and the town will be overrun.” There was a long pause. “Can you help me out, Scar?”

  Scar considered the request before answering. “Count me in, Sheriff. There’s plenty of time to get ready, but first, we need to come up with a plan. Why don’t we both think on the matter and get back together in a few weeks?”

  “Thanks, Scar. It makes me feel a lot better knowing you’re gonna help out. I’ll be doing some thinking.”

  The sheriff finished his last swallow of coffee and started to rise, but Scar spoke up. “Can you spend a few more minutes with me, Sheriff? I need some advice.” The lawman sat back down. “We need to hire ten men to cut and haul hay this summer,” Scar said. “How do I go about hiring them?”

  “Why are you cutting that much hay, Scar? Your barn won’t hold it.” For the next several minutes, Scar outlined Douglas’ plan to keep the Double D’s cows fed even in the worst of winters.

  “Let’s go to my office. We can make some posters and hang ’em in four or five businesses. I’m almost certain you’ll have several men applying for the job come morning.”

  By noon the next day, Scar crossed the homestead bridge and pulled up at the barn. Douglas and Thomas were on the porch waiting for their noon meal when the team passed by. They went to help unload.