The Fighting Edge
Page 24
CHAPTER XXIV
IN THE SADDLE
White winter covered the sage hills and gave the country a bleak anddesolate look. The Slash Lazy D riders wrapped up and went out over thewind-swept mesas to look after the cattle cowering in draws or driftingwith the storm. When Bob could sleep snugly in the bunkhouse he waslucky. There were nights when he shivered over a pine-knot fire in theshelter of a cutbank with the temperature fifteen degrees below zero.
At this work he won the respect of his fellows. He could set his teethand endure discomfort with any of them. It was at sharp danger crisesthat he had always quailed. He never shirked work or hardship, and henever lied to make the way easier or more comfortable. Harshaw watchedhim with increasing approval. In Dillon he found all but one of theessential virtues of the cowboy--good humor, fidelity, truth, tenacity,and industry. If he lacked courage in the face of peril the reason was nodoubt a constitutional one.
A heavy storm in February tried the riders to capacity. They were in thesaddle day and night. For weeks they appeared at the ranch only at oddintervals, haggard, unshaven, hungry as wolves. They ate, saddled freshmounts, and went out into the drifts again tireless and indomitable.
Except for such food as they could carry in a sack they lived on elktrapped in the deep snow. The White River country was one of the two orthree best big game districts in the United States.[3] The early settlerscould get a deer whenever they wanted one. Many were shot from the doorsof their cabins.
While Harshaw, Dud, and Bob were working Wolf Creek another heavy snowfell. A high wind swept the white blanket into deep drifts. All day theriders ploughed through these to rescue gaunt and hungry cattle. Nightcaught them far from the cabin where they had been staying.
They held a consultation. It was bitter weather, the wind still blowing.
"Have to camp, looks like," Harshaw said.
"We'll have a mighty tough night without grub and blankets," Dud saiddoubtfully. "She's gettin' colder every minute."
"There's a sheltered draw below here. We'll get a good fire goinganyhow."
In the gulch they found a band of elk.
"Here's our supper an' our beds," Dud said.
They killed three.
While Bob gathered and chopped up a down and dead tree the others skinnedthe game. There was dry wood in Harshaw's saddle-bags with which to starta fire. Soon Dillon had a blaze going which became a crackling, roaringfurnace. They ate a supper of broiled venison without trimmings.
"Might be a heap worse," Dud said while he was smoking afterward beforethe glowing pine knots. "I'm plenty warm in front even if I'm abouttwenty below up an' down my spine."
Presently they rolled up in the green hides and fell asleep.
None of them slept very comfortably. The night was bitter, and they foundit impossible to keep warm.
Bob woke first. He decided to get up and replenish with fuel the fire. Hecould not rise. The hide had frozen stiff about him. He shouted to theothers.
They, too, were helpless in the embrace of their improvisedsleeping-bags.
"Have to roll to the fire an' thaw out," Harshaw suggested.
This turned out to be a ticklish job. They had to get close enough toscorch their faces and yet not near enough to set fire to the robes. Morethan once Bob rolled over swiftly to put out a blaze in the snow.
Dud was the first to step out of his blanket. In a minute or two he hadpeeled the hides from the others.
An hour later they were floundering through the drifts toward the cabinon Wolf Creek. Behind each rider was strapped the carcass of an elk.
"Reminds me of the time Blister went snow blind," Harshaw said. "Uparound Badger Bend it was. He got lost an' wandered around for a coupladays blind as a bat. Finally old Clint Frazer's wife seen him wallowin'in the drifts an' the old man brought him in. They was outa grub an' hadto hoof it to town. Clint yoked his bull team an' had it break trail. Hean' the wife followed. But Blister he couldn't see, so he had to hang onto one o' the bulls by the tail. The boys joshed him about that quite awhile. He ce'tainly was a sight rollin' down Main Street anchored to thatcritter's tail."
"I'll bet Blister was glad to put his foot on the rail at Dolan's," Dudmurmured. "I'd be kinda glad to do that same my own se'f right now."
"Blister went to bed and stayed there for a spell. He was a sick man."Harshaw's eye caught sight of some black specks on a distant hillside."Cattle. We'll come back after we've onloaded at the cabin."
They did. It was long after dark before they reached shelter again.
The riders of the Slash Lazy D were glad to see spring come, though itbrought troubles of its own. The weather turned warm and stayed so. Thesnow melted faster than the streams could take care of it. There was highwater all over the Blanco country. The swollen creeks poured down intothe overflowing river. Three punchers in the valley were drowned insideof a week, for that was before the bridges had been built.
While the water was still high Harshaw started a trail herd to Utah.
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[3] According to old-timers the automobile is responsible for the extermination of the game supply going on so rapidly. The pioneers at certain seasons provided for their needs by killing blacktail and salting down the meat. But they were dead shots and expert hunters. The automobile tourists with high-power rifles rush into the hills during the open season and kill male and female without distinction. For every deer killed outright three or four crawl away to die later from wounds. One ranchman reports finding fifteen dead deer on one day's travel through the sage.