The Long Dim Trail

by Forrestine C. Hooker

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Arizona, like a pouting child, was indulging in one of her periodicdrouths, and cattle were slowly succumbing to starvation. The wintersnows and rains had been insufficient to start the Spring grass, andthough it was now late in August and the summer rains usually began inJune, not a drop had fallen.

  Most of the water-holes were dry, and water in the wells of ranches sankfurther from the surface each day. Many springs considered permanent,degenerated into mere mudholes where cattle bawled and crowded oneanother into the bogs till the weakest fell and were suffocated ortrampled to death. The country was not only devoid of green grass, butwhat dry feed was left contained no nutriment whatever.

  Ranchers fortunate enough to own permanent springs, or wells that werenot yet dry, guarded the water jealously, notifying neighbours to comeand care for the stray cattle that lingered bellowing around the closedwatering places, or walked aimlessly for miles beside the barbed wirefences that kept them from the water they could smell. Tiny calvestrailed weakly behind skeleton cows; other cows abandoned their young;and all added hysterically to the din of constant bellowing whereverthere was a pool of water to lure them.

  Sulphur Springs Valley was over a hundred miles long. It spread twentymiles across from the Grahams to the Galiuros, and was broken by groupsof cottonwood trees clustering about small ponds of water supplied bywindmills. Ordinarily these ponds were open to all stock, but now thegates were closed. Unless the water were used economically there wouldsoon be none in reserve, as a few days without wind would cut off thedaily supply from the windmills, and dry up the ponds.

  Each day at ten o'clock the gates were opened. Cowboys stood guard,allowing the cattle bearing the ranch brands to enter the water-corrals,all other stock being "cut" away from water. The owners of these strays,having been notified, sent men to drive their own cattle home; but theanimals would not remain away. Accustomed to ranging and watering in acertain locality, they would return and stand dumbly watching othercattle drink, waiting patiently for their own turn. When night fell,they lay down by the fence, lowing pitifully until morning, when theywould again stagger to their feet. Sometimes, in frenzy, an animal triedto break through the wire fence, cutting itself on the barbs and growingsteadily weaker hour by hour, till at last there was another carcass tobe hauled away from the fence about the water corrals.

  The August heat was intensified by the drouth, and a discussion in thecorrals had annoyed Traynor. With the mood still on him, he entered theliving-room of the Diamond H, where his wife was sitting beside a couchon which Jamie was sleeping. The boy had grown listless of late, andNell tried to deceive herself by blaming the weather. Doctor Powell hadbeen with them almost constantly, battling with all his skill for thewaning life.

  Traynor stooped over the child, then paced restlessly up and down theroom. "I wish I could see a way to get you and the boy off toCalifornia, Nell, until this drouth is over. You both need the change.You have been a plucky little woman, never making a single complaint;yet I know how much the boy means to you. He is as dear as an own son tome, and it is maddening to be tied hand and foot, so that I cannot helpyou. I was a fool that I did not accept the offer of that Easternsyndicate last Fall--but cattlemen are all fools! None of us will sellduring a good year. When the drouth hits us we curse ourselves forletting a sale slip. Drouth or no drouth, the men have to be paid;grain bought for the horses and provisions for us all. Where the moneyis coming from, the Lord only knows--I don't."

  He flung himself moodily into a chair. Rising swiftly, Nell went to hisside and slipped her arm about his neck, looking down into his face ashe tried to smile up at her.

  "Can't you pay the men with checks on the stores as you have alwaysdone?" she asked. "You told me once the stores carried all bills forfive or six months, and accounts were settled when cattle were sold atthe regular shipping season."

  "That would be all right, ordinarily; but unfortunately the stores don'tsee it that way just now. They not only refuse further credit for cashor merchandise, but are asking settlements of all accounts in full,saying they are being pressed by their own creditors. Of course, onecannot very well blame them. They have to 'save their own bacon;' as theboys say."

  "Is there any chance of getting money from the Tuscon bank?" asked hiswife, hopefully. "When Mr. Eisenbart was here he said this ranch was thefinest piece of property--not only in the Territory--but in the entirewest."

  "That did not cost him anything," retorted Traynor bitterly. "You see,like most cattlemen, I have never established a credit at any bank,being satisfied to do all my business through the stores which cash mychecks. Consequently, now that the stores are closing down on me, I haveno other place to turn!" He paced the floor restlessly and Nell watchedhim with troubled eyes, realizing how little she could help.

  "I should have opened an account with some California bank long ago," hecontinued. "However, there's no use crying over spilled milk. I did notfully understand how critical my position was until I wrote to Eisenbarttwo weeks ago. I offered a mortgage on the ranches and all the stock, attwelve per cent. for a five thousand dollar loan! Why, this place isworth five hundred thousand dollars! He answered they were not makingany new loans and were calling in all outstanding notes. No one wants amortgage on dead or dying cattle, but the land would have been amplesecurity for ten times what I needed."

  Traynor stood by the window, staring out at the sky. He turned andresumed his restless walking to and fro, "God! If it would only rain!It's not just myself, but you and Jamie, and I want to get you two awayto the Coast for a while. Then I got Powell into the mess, too. Thisdrouth hits his plans pretty hard. All his money is now tied up in theSprings and the PL herd that he bought from Paddy!"

  "But the Springs are not affected?" said Nell, "Limber told me thatnothing can influence that water supply."

  "No; there is that much to be thankful for, at least," he admittedwearily, sinking down into a chair, and letting his head drop into hishands. Nell crossed softly, and her hand caressed the bowed head, untilTraynor's face looked up at her. The haggard, drawn lines about eyes andmouth, distinct in the glaring light from the window, smote her heartwith pity and longing to comfort him.

  "Dearest, I don't care how poor we are, so long as I have you andJamie;" she was looking into his eyes bravely. "You did not marry a richgirl; but one who knew what poverty meant, and poverty where there wasno one to speak an encouraging word. We have a roof that is our own.Even if the cattle die, the drouth cannot last for ever. When the rainscome again we can mortgage the land, and get--why we can get a fewchickens and a milk-cow, maybe," she laughed. "I have learned to makedandy butter, so we can sell butter and eggs if we can't get moneyenough to buy a bunch of cattle. We won't stay down, if we do get bowledover!"

  "Nell! Bless your heart, you'd help any man get on his feet. Someday,please God, I will be able to give you everything money can buy."

  "Nothing you could buy would make me as happy as knowing I am able tohelp you," she smiled through a mist of tears.

  "I must go out and see what the boys are doing," and with head erectAllan Traynor passed through the door. Soon Nell heard his whistle--thefirst time for many days.

  The regular round-up had been deferred until Fall, as the cattle weretoo weak to be handled and branded. The Diamond H men were kept busy,however, working the cattle at the watering places or riding the rangewhere the weakest stock was "cut out" and driven slowly to the ranch andfed at the big stacks of native hay, or in the pastures that Traynor'sforesight had reserved for such an emergency. Other ranchers, who hadbeen amused at his idea of fencing pastures when the whole country wasan open range, now saw his plans had been good judgment, and looked withchagrin at their own dying cattle which might have been saved by suchmeasures.

  One afternoon near sunset, Paddy Lafferty appeared at the Diamond Hstables. Tying his dejected, flea-bitten grey horse in a stall, heunbuckled his rusty spurs and hung them over the horn of his saddle.

 
"Whar's Limber?" he asked Bronco, who passed the door of the building.

  "Hot Springs," Bronco returned, in gasps of lighting a cigarette. "Doc'sat--Tucson."

  "Whar's the bye?"

  "Inside the house."

  Paddy waited no longer, but stalked through the Court and knocked at thedoor of the sitting-room.

  Nell met him and her eyes lighted with pleasure, for his quaint, Irishhumour was never tiresome to her. Then, too, she saw the sincerity underthe surface. Paddy stepped with awkward care across the room and seatedhimself on the edge of a chair.

  "How do he bye a doin'?" he asked in his customary hoarse whisper,jerking his head toward the lounge where Jamie lay in uneasy sleep.

  "Not as well as usual, Paddy. He tires easily," she answered sadly,knowing only too well that the little life was slipping away hour byhour, though she had kept the thought to herself, believing that Traynorwas still blind to the truth and not wishing to add to his manyanxieties. She was unaware that Powell and Traynor had warned the boysnot to speak to her of the child's serious condition.

  Paddy had also been told of the deception, and had given his word toTraynor. He sat looking at Nell intently, knitting his shaggy eye-brows,and trying to think what to say without betraying his knowledge.

  "Mebbe it's the weather do be a doin' it. Misthress Thraynor. Whin therain comes he will be afther falin' betther."

  "Oh, if we could only get rain!" she cried. "Do you think the cattleblame us for their suffering when they look at us with their pitiful,patient eyes? I want to tell them we are suffering, too. Yesterday Iwatched a cow, standing by her dying calf, licking its face. It was likesomething human. After it died the mother stood there--and this morningshe would not leave it until I asked Bronco to take it away from her. Icouldn't stand it. Please don't think I am crazy, Paddy, but it seemedso cruel that a tiny, helpless creature should come into the world for afew weeks, only to suffer and die."

  "Yez ain't the only wan that do be a worritin' over the sayson,Misthress Thraynor," rejoined Paddy, who had found conversationalbearings at last. "Paple passes on the road widout savin' ache ither,becoz they're all so busy lookin' up at the sky--" he was trying hard totide her over the danger point. "They're all a boyin' linnyments to rubtheir necks, becoz of the kinks from lookin' for the clouds." Noddingapproval at a faint smile he had evoked, he went on: "Yez was talkin'about cattle havin' rayson, Misthress Thraynor. Did yez be aftherknowin' whin ould cows on the range have young calves too wake to walkfur, they all put their heads together and talk it over, loike a lot ofwomen-folks does, an' thin wan of thim cows sthays and takes care offour or foive calves, whilst the ither cows goes off to wather, mebbetin miles away. Thin she takes her turn whin the ithers comes back. Now,if that ain't rayson, be jabers, phwat is it?"

  "I believe all animals have some reason, Paddy. It is human beings whodo not understand them. We call them dumb brutes, because we lack thepatience or intelligence to comprehend. I have learned a great dealsince coming here to live."

  "Did yez iver say a cow funeral, Misthress Thraynor?" asked Paddy.

  "No, but I have heard the boys speak of them," she answered.

  "It's a funny thing," went on Paddy. "Sometoimes a critter's been killeda wake or two, and no soign of it to be seen. Thin an ould cow will comealong wid her nose to the ground, loike a dog on a trail, shniffin', andsuddenly she raises up her head and lits out a yell loike an ApacheInjun. As soon as she does thot all the cattle that are nigh enough tohear comes a runnin' to beat the divvle, an' yellin' as loud as theycan. Thin they all sthand around ashniffin' and bawlin' and pawin' upthe ground to beat the band. They don't seem to moind if a cow diesnatural, but when wan of thim is killed so its blood touches the ground,it upsets the bunch of thim as soon as they find out about it. There wasa tinder-foot that committed suicide three years ago, when he laughed atone of the Erie outfit that was tellin' about a cow funeral. The Erieboys had things pretty much their own way, them days."

  "Suicide?" asked Nell, wonderingly.

  "Well, it figured out that way. He killed hisself by bein' too slowdrawin' his gun."

  "How much longer do you think the cattle will hold out, Paddy?" sheasked anxiously.

  "Oi belave the strongest wans kin hould out six wakes, but the poorestwans can't last over two. Yez say, afther the rains comes it beats downthe dry fade that is lift, and there won't be any strength to the newfade for siveral wakes, so thot makes it harder for a whoile afther therains stharts. Thin's the toime cattle gives up." Paddy paused andsmoked reflectively, while Nell rocked slowly, immersed in anxiousthoughts. Paddy squinted at her from under his heavy eyebrows, thenbroke the silence, saying, "Did yez iver say ould man Brandther?"

  Nell shook her head.

  "Will," resumed Paddy, "he's the only wan in Arizony I'm not sorry for.He's gittin' it in the nick, now, an' Oi'm dumned glad of it! Oi tillyez, he's a genywine hypercrit! Always says grace at male toimes; andwhin he gits out of bed mornin's he goes on his knaze wid hisnoight-shirt a floppin' around his shanks and t'umps his craw and tillsthe Good Lard what a fine man ould Brandther is! Thin, he goes on therange and swoipes a couple of calves; and when noight comes, he gits onhis knaze agin an t'umps his craw, and t'anks the Good Lard for all themarcies He has besthowed that day."

  Despite her heavy heart, Nell's eye twinkled, her mouth twitched and adimple began to show. The dimple had been hidden away for many days.Paddy saw and approved it.

  "He sthayed to my place wan noight the last toime he come to his ranch,and thot's how I know about his religious belafes of hisself. Afther hehad lift, Oi flopped on my knaze and t'anked the Saints and the GoodLard that thar wasn't but wan real good and holy man in Arizony so longas I was in the cattle raising business."

  In spite of her anxiety, Nell's laughter rang through the room, as shepictured the pompous Mr. Brander thumping his "craw." The man was verywealthy, and only visited his ranch at intervals, but was so rabidlyanti-Catholic that he never missed any opportunity to harangue on thetopic, and he allowed no Mexicans employed on his ranch, because oftheir religion.

  "It seems pitiful that we need rains so badly here, while the farmers inthe East are complaining of too much," Nell said, unable to avoid thetopic that was so vital to them all.

  "Oi'm siventy-foive years ould, Misthress Thraynor, and Oi've foundthings ginerally works that way. Boy-the-boy, have yez iver been to NyeYark?"

  "I was born there and lived there with my parents till they died, thenthe money went and I worked, Paddy. I had to earn enough for Jamie andmyself, you see. There was no one to help us. You get frightened whenyou know you are only one in the four millions people around you."

  "The nixt toime yez go to Nye Yark," said Paddy, "there's a littlerestyrant yez want to be afther thryin'. Oi disremember the name of thestrate yez sthart from, but ony way, yez go tin strates to the roight,thin thray strates to the lift, and thin yez kape straight on till yezsay the place, and there yez are. Yez can't miss it. Yez can git thebest male yez iver ate in your loife," he leaned over and dropped hisvoice more confidentially, "and they only charge tin cints!"

  In order to hide the twitching corners of her mouth, as she conjured upa vision of turning cannibal and devouring "the best male yez iver atein your loife," Nell moved to the window and stood picking dead leavesfrom a common geranium growing in a crude window box on the inner ledgeformed by the thick adobe walls of the house.

  "It's growing beautifully, Paddy," she said to the old man, "and Jamieand I love to watch it. Only, I hate to have you give it up yourselfafter you have had it so long. It's a beautiful geranium."

  "Oh, well," Paddy replied carelessly, waving his hand with the pipe, "Iwas away from the house so much that half the toime I'd fergit to watherit. It's a long ways betther since you took care of it. Only, yezremimber, yez mustn't give it away to anybody ilse. Yez see, it belongedto the ould Dootch woman I married, and she thought a lot of it. Oiwouldn't give it to any wan ilse but you and Jamie."

  Nel
l's face was sympathetic. She had heard of the strange wife of oldPaddy, who spoke only Holland Dutch, while Paddy spoke not one word ofthe language; but they had managed to get along together till she passedaway. Paddy had never called her anything except "The ould Dootchwoman."

  "It needs water now," Nell spoke after prodding in the earth. "I'll getsome from the well."

  When she left the room, Paddy laid his beloved pipe aside, then drew hischair near the sleeping boy. As he watched the pale, parted lips, thefaint breath, the dark rings under the half-closed eyes, something warmand moist slipped down the old man' cheek and dropped upon his wrinkled,calloused hand. "Lard," he whispered hoarsely, "I can't see why yez letan ould useless bag o' bones like me kape on livin' and take the littlelad that iverywan wants and loves. Can't ye swap us?"

  Then Nell returned, and Paddy straightened up. "He never even peeped,"he announced, turning to watch her water the plants. There was apeculiar expression on his face as he walked slowly over to where Nelllet the water flow gently on the dry soil, then taking a pair ofscissors from her work-box she pruned the plants carefully, saying,"Jamie usually takes care of them himself, but the last week I have doneit for him. He is so easily tired. Did you ever think that life is justlike a plant, Paddy? It starts out so bravely, sending its roots deepinto the soil, and spreading its tender leaves to the sunshine--Happy,just because it is alive. Then the Gardener comes and prunes the stalks,and the plant does not understand why it is treated so cruelly.Sometimes it seems as though the leaves would never start again, butafter a while the blossoms are more beautiful than ever, for pruningmakes it stronger." She paused, looking down at the plants, then hervoice trembled a little, "I am trying so hard, Paddy, to believe thatthe Gardener knows what is best."

  He knew she was thinking of the child on the couch, and he held out hisrough hand; "Oi giss yez are roight, Misthress Thraynor. Things wurrkout in the ind, if we do be doin' the bist we know how. Oi've livedamong the cattle so long that I don't know anything ilse but cows andcow-talk, but if iver yez nade a frind, jist yez remimber ould Paddy."

  PART THREE