The Texan

by James B. Hendryx

  CHAPTER XIII

  A BOTTLE OF "HOOCH"

  It was well past the middle of the afternoon when the Texan rode up thesteep incline and unsaddled his horse. The occupants of the camp wereall asleep, the girl in her little shelter tent, and Bat and Endicottwith their blankets spread at some little distance away. Tex carriedthe outfit he had procured from Johnson into the timber, then crawledcautiously to the pilgrim's side, and awoke him without arousing theothers.

  "Hey, Win, wake up," he whispered as the man regarded him through apair of sleepy eyes. "Come on with me. I got somethin' to show you."Tex led the way to the war-bag. "Them clothes of yourn is plumdespisable to look at," he imparted, "so I borrowed an outfit offen afriend of mine that's about your size. Just crawl into 'em an' see howthey fit."

  Five minutes later the cowboy viewed with approval the figure thatstood before him, booted and spurred, with his mud-caked garmentsreplaced by corduroy trousers and a shirt of blue flannel against whichthe red silk muffler made a splotch of vivid colouring.

  "You look like a sure enough top hand, now," grinned the Texan. "We'lljust take a drink on that." He drew the cork from the bottle andtendered it to Endicott, who shook his head.

  "No, thanks. I never use it."

  The Texan stared at him in surprise. "Do you mean you've got theregular habit of not drinkin', or is it only a temporary lapse of duty?"

  Endicott laughed: "Regular habit," he answered.

  The other drank deeply of the liquor and returned the cork. "You oughtto break yourself of that habit, Win, there's no tellin' where it'lllead to. A fellow insulted me once when I was sober an' I nevernoticed it. But laying aside your moral defects, them whiskers ofyourn is sure onornamental to a scandalous degree. Wait, I'll fetch myrazor, an' you can mow 'em." He disappeared, to return a few momentslater with a razor, a cake of hand-soap, and a shaving brush.

  "I never have shaved my self," admitted Endicott, eyeing the articlesdubiously.

  "Who have you shaved?"

  "I mean, I have always been shaved by a barber."

  "Oh!" The cowboy took another long pull at the bottle. "Well, Win,the fact is them whiskers looks like hell an' has got to come off." Herolled up his sleeves. "I ain't no barber, an' never shaved a man inmy life, except myself, but I'm willin' to take a chance. After whatyou've done for me I'd be a damn coward not to risk it. Wait now 'tilI get another drink an' I'll tackle the job an' get it over with. Aman can't never tell what he can do 'til he tries."

  Endicott viewed the cowboy's enthusiasm with alarm. "That's just whatI was thinking, Tex," he hastened to say, as the other drew the corkfrom the bottle. "And it is high time I learned to shave myself,anyway. I have never been where it was necessary before. If you willjust sit there and tell me how, I will begin right now."

  "Alright, Win, you can't never learn any younger. First off, you wetyour face in the creek an' then soap it good. That soap ain't regularshavin' soap, but it'll do. Then you take the brush an' work it into alather, an' then you shave."

  "But," inquired the man dubiously, "don't you have towels soaked in hotwater, and----"

  "Towels an' hot water, hell! This ain't no barber shop, an' thereain't no gin, or whatever they rub on your face after you get through,either. You just shave an' knock the soap off your ears an' that's allthere is to it."

  After much effort Endicott succeeded in smearing his face with a thin,stringy lather, and gingerly picked up the razor. The Texan looked onin owlish solemnity as the man sat holding the blade helplessly.

  "What you doin', Win, sayin' the blessin'? Just whet her on your bootan' sail in."

  "But where do I begin?"

  The Texan snorted disgustedly. "Your face ain't so damn big but whatan hour or two reminiscence ought to take you back to where it starts.Begin at your hat an' work down over your jaw 'til you come to yourshirt, an' the same on the other side, takin' in your lip an' chin intransit, as the feller says. An' hold it like a razor, an' not like apitchfork. Now you got to lather all over again, 'cause it's dry."

  Once more Endicott laboriously coaxed a thin lather out of the brownhand-soap, and again he grasped the razor, this time with a do-or-diedetermination.

  "Oughtn't I have a mirror?" he asked doubtfully.

  "A mirror! Don't you know where your own face is at? You don't needno mirror to eat with, do you? Well, it's the same way with shavin'.But if you got to have ocular evidence, just hang out over the creekthere where it's still."

  The operation was slow and painful. It seemed to Endicott as thougheach separate hair were being dragged out by its roots, and more thanonce the razor edge drew blood. At last the job was finished, hebathed his smarting face in the cold water, and turned to the Texan forapproval.

  "You look like the second best bet in a two-handed cat fight," heopined, and producing his book of cigarette papers, proceeded to stickpatches of tissue over various cuts and gashes. "Takin' it by an'large, though, it ain't so bad. There's about as many places where youdidn't go close enough as there is where you went too close, so's it'llaverage somewhere around the skin level. Anyway it shows you tried tolook respectable--an' you do, from your neck down--an' your hat, too."

  "I am certainly obliged to you," laughed Endicott, "for going to allthat trouble to provide me with clothing. And by the way, did youlearn anything--in regard to posses, I mean?"

  The Texan nodded sombrely: "Yep. I did. This here friend of mine wason his way back from Wolf River when I met up with him. 'Tex,' hesays, 'where's the pilgrim?' I remains noncommital, an' he continues,'I layed over yesterday to enjoy Purdy's funeral, which it was thebiggest one ever pulled off in Wolf River--not that any one give a damnabout Purdy, but they've drug politics into it, an' furthermore, his'nwas the only corpse to show for the whole celebration, it bein' plumbdevoid of further casualties.'" The cowpuncher paused, referred to hisbottle, and continued: "It's just like I told you before. There can'tno one's election get predjudiced by hangin' you, an' they've made akind of issue out of it. There's four candidates for sheriff this fallan' folks has kind of let it be known, sub rosy, that the one thatbrings you in, gathers the votes. In the absence of any corpsedelecti, which in this case means yourn, folks refuses to assume youwas hung, so each one of them four candidates is right now scouring thecountry with a posse. All this he imparts to me while he was throwin'that outfit of clothes together an' further he adds that I'm undersuspicion for aidin' an' abettin', an' that means life with hard labourif I'm caught with the goods--an', Win, you're the goods. Therefore,you'll confer a favour on me by not getting caught, an' incidentallysave yourself a hangin'. Once we get into the bad lands we're all tothe good, but even then you've got to keep shy of folks. Duck out ofsight when you first see any one. Don't have nothin' to say to no oneunder no circumstances. If you do chance onto someone where you can'tdo nothin' else you'll have to lie to 'em. Personal, I don't favourlyin' only as a last resort, an' then in moderation. Of course, downin the bad lands, most of the folks will be on the run like we are, an'not no more anxious for to hold a caucus than us. You don't have to beso particular there, 'cause likely all they'll do when they run ontoyou will be to take a shot at you, an' beat it. We've got to lay lowin the bad lands about a week or so, an' after that folks will havesomethin' else on their mind an' we can slip acrost to the N. P."

  "See here, Tex, this thing has gone far enough." There was a note ofdetermination in Endicott's voice as he continued: "I cannot permit youto further jeopardize yourself on my account. You have alreadyneglected your business, incurred no end of hard work, and risked life,limb, and freedom to get me out of a scrape. I fully appreciate that Iam already under heavier obligation to you than I can ever repay. Butfrom here on, I am going it alone. Just indicate the general directionof the N. P. and I will find it. I know that you and Bat will see thatMiss Marcum reaches the railway in safety, and----"

  "Hold on, Win! That oration of yourn ain't got us no hell of
a ways,an' already it's wandered about four school-sections off the trail. Inthe first place, it's me an' not you that does the permittin' for thisoutfit. I've undertook to get you acrost to the N. P. I never startedanythin' yet that I ain't finished. Take this bottle of _hooch_here--I've started her, an' I'll finish her. There's just as muchchance I won't take you acrost to the N. P., as that I won't finishthat bottle--an' that's damn little.

  "About neglectin' my business, as you mentioned, that ain't worryin' menone, because the wagon boss specified particular an' onmistakeablethat if any of us misguided sons of guns didn't show up on the job themornin' followin' the dance, we might's well keep on ridin' as far asthat outfit was concerned, so it's undoubtable that the cow business isbein' carried on satisfactory durin' my temporary absence.

  "Concernin' the general direction of the N. P., I'll enlighten you thatif you was to line out straight for Texas, it would be the firstrailroad you'd cross. But you wouldn't never cross it becauseinterposed between it an' here is a right smart stretch of countrywhich for want of a worse name is called the bad lands. They's someseveral thousan' square miles in which there's only seven water-holesthat a man can drink out of, an' generally speakin' about five of themis dry. There's plenty of water-holes but they're poison. Some is gypan' some is arsnic. Also these here bad lands ain't laid out on nogeneral plan. The coulees run hell-west an' crossways at theirlittlest end an' wind up in a mud crack. There ain't no trails, an'the inhabitants is renegades an' horse-thieves which loves theirsolitude to a murderous extent. If a man ain't acquainted with thecountry an' the horse-thieves, an' the water-holes, his sojourn wouldbe discouragin' an' short.

  "All of which circumlocutin' brings us to the main point which is that_she_ wouldn't stand for no such proceedin'. As far as I can see thatsettles the case. The pros an' cons that you an' me could set here an'chew about, bein' merely incidental, irreverent, an' by way of passin'the time."

  Endicott laughed: "You are a philosopher, Tex."

  "A cow-hand has got to be."

  "But seriously, I could slip away without her knowing it, then the onlything you could do would be to take her to the railway."

  "Yes. Well, you try that an' you'll find out who's runnin' thisoutfit. I'll trail out after you an' when I catch you, I'll justnaturally knock hell out of you, an' that's all there'll be to it. Youhad the edge on me in the water but you ain't on land. An' now that'ssettled to the satisfaction of all parties concerned, suppose me an'you slip over to camp an' cook supper so we can pull out right aftersundown."

  The two made their way through the timber to find Alice blowing herselfred in the face in a vain effort to coax a blaze out of a fewsmouldering coals she had scraped from beneath the ashes of the fire.

  "Hold on!" cried the Texan, striding toward her, "I've alwaysmaintained that buildin' fires is a he-chore, like swearin', an'puttin' the baby to sleep. So, if you'll just set to one side a minutewhile I get this fire a-goin' an' Win fetches some water, you can takeholt an' do the cookin' while we-all get the outfit ready for thetrail."

  Something in the man's voice caused the girl to regard him sharply, andher eyes shifted for a moment to his companion who stood in thebackground. There was no flash of recognition in the glance, andEndicott, suppressing a laugh, turned his face away, picked up thewater pail, and started toward the creek.

  "Who is that man?" asked the girl, a trifle nervously, as hedisappeared from view.

  "Who, him?" The Texan was shaving slivers from a bull pine stick."He's a friend of mine. Win's his name, an' barrin' a few littleirregularities of habit, he ain't so bad." The cowboy burst intomournful song as he collected his shavings and laid them upon the coals:

  "It's little Joe, the wrangler, he'll wrangle never more, His days with the _remuda_ they are o'er; 'Twas a year ago last April when he rode into our camp, Just a little Texas stray, and all alo-o-o-n-e."

  Alice leaned toward the man in sudden anger:

  "You've been drinking!" she whispered.

  Tex glanced at her in surprise: "That's so," he said, gravely. "It'sthe only way I can get it down."

  She was about to retort when Endicott returned from the creek andplaced the water pail beside her.

  "Winthrop!" she cried, for the first time recognizing him. "Where inthe world did you get those clothes, and what is the matter with yourface?"

  Endicott grinned: "I shaved myself for the first time."

  "What did you do it with, some barbed wire?"

  "Looks like somethin' that was left out in the rain an' had started topeel," ventured the irrepressible Tex.

  Alice ignored him completely. "But the clothes? Where did you getthem?"

  Endicott nodded toward the Texan. "He loaned them to me!"

  "But--surely they would never fit him."

  "Didn't know it was necessary they should," drawled Tex, and havingsucceeded in building the fire, moved off to help Bat who was busyinghimself with the horses.

  "Where has he been?" asked the girl as the voice of the Texan came frombeyond the trees:

  "It happened in Jacksboro in the spring of seventy-three, A man by the name of Crego come steppin' up to me, Sayin', 'How do you do, young fellow, an' how would you like to go An' spend one summer pleasantly, on the range of the buffalo-o-o?'"

  "I'm sure I don't know. He came back an hour or so ago and woke me upand gave me this outfit and told me my whiskers looked like theinfernal regions and that I had better shave--even offered to shave me,himself."

  "But he has been drinking. Where did he get the liquor?"

  "The same place he got the clothes, I guess. He said he met a friendand borrowed them," smiled Endicott.

  "Well, it's nothing to laugh at. I should think you'd be ashamed tostand there and laugh about it."

  The man stared at her in surprise. "I guess he won't drink enough tohurt him any. And--why, it was only a day or two ago that you sat inthe dining car and defended their drinking. You even said, I believe,that had you been a man you would have been over in the saloon withthem."

  "Yes, I did say that! But that was different. Oh, I think men are_disgusting_! They're either _bad_, or just plain _dumb_!"

  "We left old Crego's bones to bleach on the range of the buffalo-- Went home to our wives an' sweethearts, told others not to go, For God's forsaken the buffalo range, and the damned old buffalo-o-o!"

  "At least our friend Tex does not seem to be stricken with dumbness,"Endicott smiled as the words of the buffalo skinner's song broke forthanew. "Do you know I have taken a decided fancy to him. He's----"

  "I'd run along and play with him then if I were you," was the girl'ssarcastic comment. "Maybe if you learn how to swear and sing some ofhis beautiful songs he'll give you part of his whiskey." She turnedaway abruptly and became absorbed in the preparation of supper, andEndicott, puzzled as he was piqued, at the girl's attitude, joined thetwo who were busy with the pack. "He's just perfectly stunning in thatoutfit," thought Alice as she watched him disappear in the timbers."Oh, I don't know--sometimes I wish--" but the wish became confusedsomehow with the sizzling of bacon. And with tight-pressed lips, shegot out the tin dishes.

  "What's the matter, Win--steal a sheep?" asked the Texan as he paused,blanket in hand, to regard Endicott.

  "What?"

  "What did _you_ catch hell for? You didn't imbibe no embalmin' fluid."Endicott grinned and the cowboy finished rolling his blanket.

  "Seems like we're in bad, some way. She didn't say nothin' much, but Imanaged to gather from the way she looked right through the place whereI was standin' that I could be got along without for a spell. Herinterruptin' me right in the middle of a song to impart that I'd be'ndrinkin' kind of throw'd me under the impression that the pastime wasfrowned on, but the minute I seen you comin' through the brush like youwas sneaking off at recess, I know'd you was included in the boycottan' that lets the booze out. Seein's our conscience is clear, it mustbe somethin' _she_ done that she's to
ok umbrage at, as the feller says,an' the best thing we can do is to overlook it. I don't know as I'dadvise tellin' her so, but we might just kind of blend into the sceneryonobtrusive 'til the thaw comes. In view of which I'll just take alittle drink an' sing you a song I heard down on the Rio Grande."Thrusting his arm into the end of his blanket roll, the Texan drewforth his bottle and, taking a drink, carefully replaced it. "Thishere song is _The Old Chisholm Trail_, an' it goes like this:

  "Come along; boys, and listen to my tale, I'll tell you of my troubles on the old Chisholm trail.

  Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya, Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya.

  I started up the trail October twenty-third, I started up the trail with the 2-U herd.

  Oh, a ten dollar hoss and a forty dollar saddle-- And I'm goin' to punchin' Texas cattle.

  I woke up one morning on the old Chisholm trail, Rope in my hand and a cow by the tail.

  I'm up in the mornin' afore daylight And afore I sleep the moon shines bright.

  Old Ben Bolt was a blamed good boss, But he'd go to see the girls on a sore-backed hoss.

  Old Ben Bolt was a fine old man And you'd know there was whiskey wherever he'd land.

  My hoss throwed me off at the creek called Mud, My hoss throwed me off round the 2-U herd.

  Last time I saw him he was going cross the level A-kicking up his heels and a-runnin' like the devil.

  It's cloudy in the west, a-lookin' like rain, An' my damned old slicker's in the wagon again.

  Crippled my hoss, I don't know how, Ropin' at the horns of a 2-U cow.

  We hit Caldwell and we hit her on the fly, We bedded down the cattle on the hill close by.

  No chaps, no slicker, and it's pourin' down rain, An' I swear, by God, I'll never night-herd again.

  Feet in the stirrups and seat in the saddle, I hung and rattled with them long-horn cattle.

  Last night I was on guard and the leader broke the ranks, I hit my horse down the shoulders and I spurred him in the flanks.

  The wind commenced to blow, and the rain began to fall. Hit looked, by grab, like we was goin' to lose 'em all.

  I jumped in the saddle and grabbed holt the horn, Best blamed cow-puncher ever was born.

  I popped my foot in the stirrup and gave a little yell, The tail cattle broke and the leaders went to hell.

  I don't give a damn if they never do stop; I'll ride as long as an eight-day clock.

  Foot in the stirrup and hand on the horn, Best damned cowboy ever was born.

  I herded and I hollered and I done very well Till the boss said, 'Boys, just let 'em go to hell.'

  Stray in the herd and the boss said kill it, So I shot him in the rump with the handle of the skillet.

  We rounded 'em up and put 'em on the cars, And that was the last of the old Two Bars.

  Oh, it's bacon and beans most every day,-- I'd as soon be a-eatin' prairie hay.

  I'm on my best horse and I'm goin' at a run, I'm the quickest shootin' cowboy that ever pulled a gun.

  I went to the wagon to get my roll, To come back to Texas, dad-burn my soul.

  I went to the boss to draw my roll, He had it figgered out I was nine dollars in the hole.

  I'll sell my outfit just as soon as I can, I won't punch cattle for no damned man.

  Goin' back to town to draw my money, Goin' back home to see my honey.

  With my knees in the saddle and my seat in the sky, I'll quit punchin' cows in the sweet by and by.

  Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya, Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya."

  As the last words of the chorus died away both men started at the soundof the girl's voice.

  "Whenever you can spare the time you will find your supper ready," sheannounced, coldly, and without waiting for a reply, turned toward thecamp. Endicott looked at Tex, and Tex looked at Endicott.

  "Seems like you done raised hell again, Win. Standin' around listenin'to ribald songs, like you done, ain't helped our case none. Well, webetter go eat it before she throws it away. Come on, Bat, you'reincluded in the general gloom. Your face looks like a last year'scircus bill, Win, with them patches of paper hangin' to it. Maybethat's what riled her. If I thought it was I'd yank 'em off an' letthem cuts bleed no matter how bad they stung, just to show her myheart's in the right place. But that might not suit, neither, so thereyou are."

  Alice sat well back from the fire as the three men poured their coffeeand helped themselves to the food.

  "Ain't you goin' to join us in this here repast?" asked Tex, with asmile.

  "I have eaten, thank you."

  "You're welcome--like eight dollars change for a five-spot."

  In vain Endicott signalled the cowboy to keep silent. "Shove over,Win, you're proddin' me in the ribs with your elbow! Ain't ChoteauCounty big enough to eat in without crowdin'? 'Tain't as big as TomGreen County, at that, no more'n Montana is as big as Texas--nor asgood, either; not but what the rest of the United States has gotsomethin' to be said in its favour, though. But comparisons areordorous, as the Dutchman said about the cheese. Come on, Win, me an'you'll just wash up these dishes so Bat can pack 'em while we saddleup."

  A half-hour later, just as the moon topped the crest of a high ridge,the four mounted and made their way down into the valley.

  "We got to go kind of easy for a few miles 'cause I shouldn't wonder ifold man Johnson had got a gang out interrin' defunck bovines. I'lljust scout out ahead an' see if I can locate their camp so we can slippast without incurrin' notoriety."

  "I should think," said Alice, with more than a trace of acid in hertone, "that you had done quite enough scouting for one day."

  "In which case," smiled the unabashed Texan, "I'll delegate the duty tomy trustworthy retainer an' side-kicker, the ubiquitous an' iniquitousBaterino St. Cecelia Julius Caesar Napoleon Lajune. Here, Bat, forkover that pack-horse an' take a siyou out ahead, keepin' a lookout forposses, post holes, and grave-diggers. It's up to you to see that wepass down this vale of tears, unsight an' unsung, as the poet says, oroff comes your hind legs. Amen."

  The half-breed grinned his understanding and handed over the lead-ropewith a bit of homely advice. "You no lak' you git find, dat better youdon' talk mooch. You ain' got to sing no mor', neider, or ba Goss!A'm tak' you down an' stick you mout' full of rags, lak' I done down toChinook dat tam'. Dat _hooch_ she mak' noise 'nough for wan night,_sabe_?"

  "That's right, Bat. Tombstones and oysters is plumb raucousinstitutions to what I'll be from now on." He turned to the otherswith the utmost gravity. "You folks will pardon any seemin' reticenceon my part, I hope. But there's times when Bat takes holt an' runs theoutfit--an' this is one of 'em."