THE PASSING OF BILL JACKSON
By permission _The Argonaut_, San Francisco, Cal.
"I tell you fellows, 'tain't no fun to swim a bunch of steers when thewater is as cold as it is now." The speaker was a short, thick-setcowboy, whose fiery red hair had gained for him the sobriquet of"Colorado," the Mexican name for red, which was frequently shortened to"Colly" among the "punchers."
Colorado, who was carefully rolling a cigarette, glanced around thecircle of listeners, as if challenging some one to contradict him. Thebalance of the boys evidently agreed with him, for no one said a wordexcept the "Kid," and he, after taking his pipe from his lips andcarefully knocking out the ashes on the heel of his boot, said:
"'Jever have any 'sperience at it, Colly?"
Colorado by this time had finished rolling his cigarette and was waitingfor the cook's pot-hook, which he had thrust into the campfire, to getred-hot, to light it. Having done this and taken a few preliminarypuffs, he answered:
"Yes, I hev, and a mighty tough one it was, too."
"Tell us about it, Colorado," said the cook. "Whar was it, an' how didit happen?"
"Yes, Colly, le's hear the story," chimed in the Kid.
It was just the time for a story. We had come down to the railroad witha bunch of steers, and found the Little Colorado River, which ranbetween us and the railroad, swollen to a mighty torrent by the rains inthe mountains.
We had waited four days for it to go down, but it seemed rather to risea little each day. As the feed was poor and we had lots of work to do,the boss was in a hurry to get them shipped and off his hands, and sohad just announced, that at daylight the next morning he meant to try toswim the herd across. It was late in October and the weather was snappycold. Overcoats and heavy clothes were an absolute necessity in thenight on guard around the herd, and the idea of going into that coldwater was not a pleasant one. But the cow-puncher is much like thesailor, in that he never stops to think of getting wet, or cold, orgoing into any danger as long as the boss himself will lead the way; sowe were all prepared to get a soaking the next day.
It was that pleasant time in the evening between sunset and dark. Theherd was bedded down near camp, and the first guard were making theirrounds, with never a steer to turn back. The balance of us were lyingabout the campfire, smoking and talking "hoss," a subject which is neverworn threadbare in a cow-camp. Colorado, who had been idly marking outbrands in the sand in front of him with the end of his fingers, said:
"Well, boys, 'taint much of a story, but ef you want to hear it, I'lltell you how it was. Dick, gimme a bite of your navy," and having stowedaway a huge chunk of Dick's "navy," Colly settled back on the ground andbegan:
"I was workin' fer the Diamond outfit up in Utah, 'bout three years ago,an' the old man he come off down here into Arizona an' bought a bunch ofsteers to take up thar. He done written his wagon-boss to come down withan outfit big enough to handle two thousand head, an' we struck theLittle Colorado River 'bout the mouth of the Canon Diablo wash, where wewas to receive the herd 'long in June. We didn' have no particklerhap'nin's comin' down, and we got the herd turned over all right, an'built a 'squeeze chute' an' branded 'em all before we started back; soas, if any got lost, the outfit could claim 'em on the brand: an' aboutthe last of June we pushed 'em off the bed-ground one mornin', beforedaylight, an' pulled our freight for the home ranch.
"The cattle were all good to handle, an' didn't give us no trouble tohold nights, barrin' one or two little stampedes, an' we drifted on downtoward Lee's Ferry without any mishaps, 'ceptin' one night it werea-rainin' like all possessed, an' I wakes up a feller named Peck to goon guard. Peck got up an' put on his slicker, walked over to where hispony was tied, an' mounted. We was camped on the banks of a wash calledCottonwood Creek, an' along there the wash had cut down into the 'dobeflat, some ten or fifteen feet deep. Peck he's 'bout half asleep, an'gets off wrong for the herd, an' rides straight up to the edge of thecreek, thinkin' all the time he's a-goin' out on the prairie to theherd. His pony sort of balked on him an' give a snort, but Peck bein' across-grained sort of cuss, an' only half awake, just bathed him withhis quirt, an' jabbed his spurs into him. The pony give a jump an'landed in the middle of the creek, with six or eight feet of muddy waterrunnin' in it. Lord, didn't Peck wake up suddenlike, an' squall forhelp? We all turned out in a hurry, but he swam across, an' the oppositeside bein' sort of slopin'like, the pony scrambled out. Then Peck wasafeered to cross back in the dark, an' stayed over thar all night,a-shiverin' an' a-shakin' an' a-cursin' like a crazy man. When we got upfor breakfast that mornin' at four o'clock it was clear, an' cold, an'dark. The cook he goes down to the creek an' hollers to Peck sort ofsarcastic-like, 'Come to breakfast, Peck!' an' Peck he gets mad an'swears at the _cocinero_ pretty plenty, an' said ef he didn't go backhe'd turn loose on him with his six-shooter, an' the cook, bein' prettyrollicky hisself, he goes back to the wagon an' pulls his Winchester an'starts fer the creek agin, but Jackson stops him an' turns him back.When it comes daylight Peck went down the creek a mile and finds a placeto cross whar it wa'n't so deep, an' so gits back to camp jist as we waspullin' out.
"The Big Colorado were a powerful stream when we reached it, bein' allswollen by heavy rains up in the mountains an' we all kinder hated totackle it. Before he left, the old man told the wagon-boss to ferry theoutfit an' horses over in the boat, but to swim the steers.
"You know how Lee's Ferry is; the river comes out of a box canyon above,an' the sides break away a little, an' then a mile below it goes intothe box agin, where the walls is three thousand feet high an' thecurrent runs like a mill-race.
"It was shore a nasty place to swim a bunch of steers, an' Jackson, heknowed we had a big job on hand when we got there. Jackson was the bestwagon-boss I ever see or worked under. He was a tall, slim chap, couldoutwork any two men in the outfit, wasn't afeerd of nothin', an' thoughhe couldn't read or write, I tell you, boys, he savvyed cows a heap.What he didn't know 'bout cows wa'n't worth knowin'. He didn't let thesteers water the day before, so's they'd be powerful dry an' take to theriver easier.
"We fust got the wagon over on the ferry boat, which was a big concern,long enuff to drive a four-hoss team onto, an' which was rowed by fourmen. The cook he was mighty skerry 'bout goin' onto this here boat,'cause he said 'bout a year afore that he'd been a-punching cows insouthern Arizony, an' a feller there shipped a lot of cattle up interCaliforney to put on an island in the ocean near Los Angeles. Theyloaded 'em onto flat scows with a high railin' round 'em, an' put 'boutfifty head on each scow an' a puncher on it to look out fer 'em. Goin'over to the island the tug what was a-towin' 'em by the horn of thesaddle, so to speak, busted the string, an' thar bein' quite a windblowin', an' big ole waves a-floppin' round, the four scows began tobutt an' bump up agin' one another like a lot of muley bulls a-fightin',an' the cattle got to runnin' back an' forth an' a-bellerin' an'a-bawlin', an' them punchers, they shore thought their very last day hadcome. The cook he never expected to see dry land agin', an' he jistvowed if he ever got back to the prairie that he'd punch no more cows onboats.
"Well, bimeby, the tug got a new lariat onto 'em agin' an' corraled 'emall safe enuff at the wharf, but the cook 'lowed he war a dry-landterrapin an' wouldn't ever agin get into no such scrape, not ef heknowed hisself. However, he did get up 'nuff spunk to tackle the ferry,an' went over safely. After we got the wagon acrost, we went back an'started the cattle down the side canyon what leads into the crossin'.
"Jackson's idee was to git the hosses ahead of the steers an' let 'emfollow. You know hosses swim anywheres, an' the cattle will allersfoller 'em. So he puts three men in a little boat, two to row an' one tolead a hoss knowin' the balance would foller him right across.
"The hoss-wrangler hed the 'cavvy' all ready, an' jist as the leaders ofthe herd come down to the water's edge the boys in the boat pulled out,a-leadin' a hoss, an' the other hosses follered right in an' was soona-swimmin'. Then when they was all strung out an' doin' fine, we crowdedthe s
teers into the water after 'em. They was all powerful dry an' tookto the water easy 'nuff, an' afore the leaders knowed it they wasa-swimmin' in fine shape. Jackson wouldn't let us holler or shoot tillwe got 'em all inter the water, an' then we jerked our six-shooters an'began to fog 'em an' yell like a bunch of Comanches.
"You all know thar's one thing to be afeered of in swimmin' a lot ofcattle, and that's when they gets to millin'. Jackson had swum cattleacross the Pecos in Texas, an' the Yellowstone in Montana, an' saveyed'xactly what to do. But this here Colorado at Lee's Ferry is a bad placeto tackle, fer you're bound to get out on the other side afore you getinto the box canyon, or your name's Dennis, 'cause once a feller gitsinto the canyon he's got to go on clean down about a hundred miles aforehe can strike a level place big enuff to crawl out on.
"Soon as the cattle got well strung out, Jackson began to undresshisself. He took off all his clothes but his pants, an' then buckled hissix-shooter belt around him, an' pulled the saddle off'n his hoss.
"I says, 'Bill, you ain't a-goin' to try to swim it, are you?' an' hesays, 'No, not 'less I have to; but if they gets to millin' out tharwe'll lose the whole herd, an' the only way to break it up is to rideout an' shoot among 'em an' skeer 'em.' He knowed it were risky, for ifanything went wrong he was shore to be carried into the canyon an'drowned. But Bill Jackson wa'n't the sort of a wagon-boss to stop atanything to save the herd, an' sure 'nuff, 'bout the time the leadersgot fairly into the middle of the river, 'long comes a big cottonwoodtree a-driftin' an' whirlin' down stream right into 'em. That skeert 'eman' turned 'em, an' 'fore we knowed it they was doubled back on thebalance an' swimmin' round an' round, for all the world like driftwoodin a big eddy in a creek. This was what Jackson was afeerd of, an' hepushed his hoss into the river an' takes his six-shooter in his hand. Hewas ridin' a little Pinto pony they called 'Blue Jay,' one of the bestall-around cow-ponies I ever see.
"Old Blue Jay he jist seemed to savey what was wanted of him, an' swam'long without any fuss. When Jackson gits out close to the millin'steers he begin to holler an' shoot, an' he called to the fellers in theboat to come back an' try to stop 'em. Now, you all know what a riskything it is to go near a steer a-swimmin' in the water, for he's sureto try to climb up on you. Jackson knowed this, but he swam Blue Jayright slap-dab inter the bunch an' tried to scatter 'em an' stop 'emfrom millin'.
"Just how it happened we couldn't tell; but first thing we seen Jacksonwas right in the middle of the millin' critters, an' in a minute theyhad crowded pore old Blue Jay under, an' all we seen of Jackson was hishands went up an' then he was lost in the whirlin' mass of horns thatwas goin' round and round. A man had no chance at all to swim, 'causetheir hoofs kep' him under all the time, an' they was packed so close afeller couldn't come up between 'em, anyway. The boys in the boat triedto do something, but 'twan't no use, fer he never come up, an' when theygot too close one big steer throwed his head over the side of the boatan' purty nigh upset 'em, so they had to keep away to save theirselves.But they kep' up a-shootin' an' a-hollerin' 'till the leaders finallystruck out for shore, an' in a few minutes the whole herd was strung outfor the opposite side an' sooner than I kin tell it they was allstandin' on dry land, an' not a single one missin'.
"Meantime the boys in the boat had watched everywhere for pore Jackson'sbody, but they never got sight of it, though they went 'most down to themouth of the box canyon. Thar was lots of big trees an' drift a-runnin',an' we guessed his body had been caught in the branches of a tree an'carried down with it. Pore old Blue Jay come floating past 'em, an' theytried to catch him, but the current was so swift they couldn't do it.All they wanted was to get Jackson's silver-mounted bridle off'n him,'cause 'twas easy 'nuff to see that the pony was quite dead.
"Well, the rest of us crossed in the big ferry-boat an' rounded up thesteers, which was grazin' up the canyon on the other side, an' moved 'emout a couple of miles to camp. Shorty, bein' the oldest hand in theoutfit, took charge, an' sent two of us back to the ferry, to try an'see ef Jackson's body could be found, but the feller what runs the ferrysaid 'tain't no use lookin' fer him, 'cause the swift current wouldcarry him miles and miles down the canyon without ever lodgin' anywhere.So we went back, an' Shorty gave it up an' decided to push the herd onnext day. We was a blue ole crowd that night around the campfire, I tellyou. All the boys liked Jackson, an' besides, they was a-thinkin' of hiswife an' two kids what was a-waitin' for him at the headquarter ranch upin Utah.
"Shorty sent a letter from the ferry settlement to the old man,a-tellin' him what had happened, an' we come along up with the cattle,arrivin' safely at the ranch without any more misfortunes."
"An' didn't they never find Jackson's body, Colly?" queried the Kid.
"Wal," said Colly, "that's a singular thing, too. When we gets back tothe ranch the old man he was orful cut up about it, an' hated to thinkthat the body wasn't found. He'd been down in the Grand Canon the summerafore with a lot of fellers, an' he said he believed he could find it'bout a hundred miles below the ferry, 'cause thar were a place downthar in the canyon whar the walls widened out fer some twenty miles, an'thar was quite a valley with grassy meadows an' trees. So he takes oneof the boys an' a pack outfit an' goes off down thar. They had to leaveeverything on top of the canyon an' climb down a-foot an' pack theirstuff on their backs. The walls was six thousand feet high thar, an'they had a hard time gettin' down. Course, it was jist a scratch, butI'm blest if after four or five days' hunt they didn't find it lodged ina pile of drift along the river. 'Twas easy 'enuff to tell Jackson'sbody, fer he'd had two fingers of his left hand shot off in a fightonce; so they takes it off to a place in the valley whar it was safefrom flood, an' buries it as well as they could, an' next year, he wentback an' packed the remains out of the canyon an' took them clean to theranch an' buried 'em jist as if it was his own brother. I tell you, theboys was ready to swear by old man Saunders after that."
Colorado's story was finished, and as it was about ten-thirty the secondguard-men began putting on overcoats and heavy gloves preparatory to twohours and a half of watching the herd.
The stars were shining clear and bright, the bells of the horse-herdcame softly over the prairie, making a tuneful chime on the frosty nightair, and as I untied the rope that bound my roll of bedding and kickedit out on the ground, I could not keep from thinking of poor Jackson'sdeath and wondering if the morrow held a like fate in store for any ofus.
Tales from the X-bar Horse Camp: The Blue-Roan Outlaw and Other Stories Page 11
