CHAPTER THREE
ABOVE THE DUST
I'm only about twice as old as I feel; but I've certainly seen a loto' changes take place out this way. I can look back to the time whenwhat most of us called a town was nothin' but a log shack with abarrel of cheap whiskey and a mail-bag wanderin' in once a month orso, from goodness-knows-where. I've seen the cattle kings when theyset their own bounds, made their own laws, and cared as little forgovernment-title as they did for an Injun's. Then, I've seen the sheepmen creep in an inch at a time until they ate the range away from thecattle and began to jump claims an' tyrannize as free and joyous asthe cattle men had. Next came the dry farmer, and he was as comical asa bum lamb when he first hove into sight; but I reckon that sooner orlater he'll be the one to write the final laws for this section.
We're gettin' a good many towns on our map nowadays, we're puttin' upa lot o' hay, we're drinkin' cow milk, and we're eatin' garden truckin the summer. The old West has dried up and blown away before ourvery eyes, and a few of us old timers are beginnin' to feel like thelast o' the buffalo. The's more money nowadays in boardin' dudes 'nthe' is in herdin' cattle, an' that's the short of a long, long story.
But still we hammered out this country from the rough, and no one cantake that away from us. The flag follers trouble, an' business follersthe flag, an' law follers business, an' trouble follers the law; butalways the first trouble was kicked up by boys who had got so 'at theycouldn't digest home cookin' any longer and just nachely had to getout an' tussle with nature an' the heathen.
They're a tough, careless lot, these young adventurers; an' they'realways in a state of panic lest the earth get so crowded the' won't beroom enough to roll over in bed without askin' permission; so theykill each other off as soon as possible, and thus make room for thepatienter ones who follow after. From what I've heard tell of history,this has been about the way that the white race has managed from thevery beginning.
As a general rule it has been purt' nigh a drawn fight between thedark-skins an' the wild animals; then the lads who had to have moreelbow-room came along, and the dark-skins and the wild animals had tobe put onto reservations to preserve a few specimens as curiosities,while the lads fussed among themselves, each one tryin' to settle downpeaceable with his dooryard lappin' over the horizon in alldirections. Room, room, room--that was their constant cry. As soon asone would get a neighbor within a day's ride, he'd begin to feel shutin an' smothered.
Tyrrel Jones was one o' the worst o' this breed. He came out at anearly date, climbed the highest peak he could find, and claimedeverything 'at his gaze could reach in every direction. Then heinvented the Cross brand, put it on a few cows, and made ready todefend his rights. The Cross brand was a simple one, just one straightline crossin' another; and it could be put on in about one second witha ventin' iron, or anything else which happened to be handy. Tyrrelthought a heap o' this brand, an' he didn't lose any chances ofputtin' it onto saleable property. His herd grew from the verybeginning.
His home ranch was something over a hundred miles northwest o' theDiamond Dot; but I allus suspicioned that a lot of our doggies had theCross branded on to 'em. Tyrrel was mighty particular in the kind o'punchers he hired. He liked fellers who had got into trouble, an' thedeeper they was in, the better he liked 'em. Character seeks itslevel, the same as water; so that Tyrrel had no trouble in gettin' asmany o' the breed he wanted as he had place for. They did hisdevilment free and hearty, and when they had a little spare time, theyused to devil on their own hook in a way to shame an Injun.
The sayin' was, that a Cross brand puncher could digest every sort o'beef in the land except Cross brand beef. Tyrrel used to grin at thissayin' as though it was a sort of compliment; but some o' the littlefellers got purty bitter about it. When a small outfit located on anice piece o' water, it paid 'em to be well out o' Ty's neighborhood.No one ever had any luck who got in his road; but his own luck boomedright along year after year. He allus kept more men than he needed;an' about once a month he'd knock in the head of a barrel o' whiskey,an' the tales they used to tell about these times was enough to raisethe hair. Ty would work night an' day to get one of his men out of ascrape; but once a man played him false, he either had to move or getburied. He wasn't a bad lookin' man, except that he allus seemed keyedup an' ready to spring.
His men all had to be top-notch riders, because he hadn't any use fora gentle hoss; he didn't want his hosses trained, he wanted 'embusted, an' the cavey he'd send along for a round-up would be about asgentle and reliable as a band o' hungry wolves. If a man killed ahoss, why Ty seemed to think it a good joke, an' this was his gait allthe way along--the rougher the men were, the better they suited him.He kept a pack o' dogs, and the men were encouraged to kick an' abuse'em; but if one of 'em petted a dog, he was fired that instant--orelse lured into a quarrel. The' didn't seem to be one single soft spotleft in the man, an' when they got to callin' him Tyrant Jones insteadof Tyrrel, why, it suited him all over, an' he used it himself once ina while.
The next time I saw Friar Tuck, he recognized me at first glance, an'his face lit up as though we had been out on some prank together an'was the best pals in the world ever since. He wanted to know all Iknew about the crowd that had started to string him up; and when I hadfinished paintin' 'em as black as I could, what did he do but say thathe was goin' up their way to have a talk with 'em.
I told him right out that it was simply wastin' time; but he was setin his ways, so I decided to ride part way with him. He had two hossesalong this trip, with his bed an' grub tied on the spare one; and onthe second day we reached a little park just as the sun was setting.It was one o' the most beautiful spots I ever saw, high enough to geta grand view off to the west, but all the rest shut in like a littleroom. He jumped from his hoss, had his saddle off as soon as I did,and also helped me with the pack. Then he looked about the place.
"What a grand cathedral this is, Happy!" he sez after a minute.
I didn't sense what he meant right at first, and went on makin' camp,until I happened to notice his expression. He was lookin' off to thewest with the level rays of the sun as it sank down behind a distantrange full in his face. The twilight had already fallen over the lowland and all the hazy blues an' purples an' lavenders seemed to befloatin' in a misty sea, with here an' there the black shadows ofpeaks stickin' out like islands. It really was gorgeous when youstopped to give time to it.
It had been gruelin' hot all day, an' was just beginnin' to get coolan' restful, and I was feelin' the jerk of my appetite; but when Inoticed his face I forgot all about it. I stood a bit back of him,half watchin' him, an' half watchin' the landscape. Just as the sunsank, he raised his hands and chanted, with his great, soft voicebooming out over the hills: "The Lord is in His holy temple--let allthe earth keep silence before Him."
He bent his head, an' I bent mine--I'd have done it if the'd been aknife-point stickin' again' my chin. I tell you, it was solemn! Itgrew dark in a few moments an' the evening star came out in all herglory. It was a still, clear night without a speck in the air, and shewas the only star in sight; but she made up for it, all right, bythrowing out spikes a yard long.
He looked up at it for a moment, and then sang a simple little hymnbeginnin', "Now the day is over, night is drawing nigh; shadows of theevening steal across the sky." It didn't have the ring to it of mostof his songs; it was just close an' friendly, and filled a feller withpeace. It spoke o' the little children, and those watchin' in pain,and the sailors tossin' on the deep blue sea, and those who plannedevil--rounded 'em all up and bespoke a soothin' night for 'em; and Iventure to say that it did a heap o' good.
Then he pitched in an' helped me get supper. This was his way; hedidn't wear a long face and talk doleful; he was full o' life an'boilin' over with it every minute, and he'd turn his hand to whatevercame up an' joke an' be the best company in the world; but he nevergot far from the Lord; and when he'd stop to worship, why, the wholeworld seemed to stop and worship with him.
We
had a merry meal and had started to wash up the dishes when hehappened to glance up again. He had just been tellin' me a droll storyabout the first camp he'd ever made, and how he had tied on his packso 'at the hoss couldn't comfortably use his hind legs and had buckedall his stuff into a crick, an' I was still laughin'; but when helooked up, my gaze followed his. It was plumb dark by now, an' thatevening star was fair bustin' herself, and the light of it turned thepeaks a glisteny, shadowy silver. He raised his hands again andchanted one beginning: "Praise the Lord, O my soul, and all that iswithin me, praise His holy name."
The' was a part in this one which called upon all the works o' theLord to praise Him, and I glanced about to see what was happenin'. Afaint breeze had sprung up and the spruce trees were bowin' overreverently, the ponies had raised their heads and their eyes wereshinin' soft and bright in the firelight as they looked curiously atthe singer; and as I stood there with a greasy skillet in my hand,something inside of me seemed to get down on its knees, to worshipwith the other works o' the Lord.
It was one o' those wonderful moments which seem to brand themselveson a feller's memory, and I can see it all now, and hear the Friar'svoice as it floated away into the hills until it seemed to be caughtup by other voices rather than to die away.
Well, we sat up about the fire a long time that night. He didn't fusswith me about my soul, or gettin' saved, or such things. I told himthe things I didn't understand, and he told me the things he didn'tunderstand; and I told him about some o' my scrapes, and he told meabout some o' his, and--well, I can't see where it was so differentfrom a lot of other nights; but I suppose I'd be sitting there yet ifhe hadn't finally said it was bedtime.
He stood up and looked at the star again, and chanted the one whichbegins: "Lord, now let thy servant depart in peace"; after which hepulled off some of his clothes and crawled into the tarp. I crawled inbeside him about two minutes later; but he was already asleep, while Ilay there thinkin' for the best part of an hour.
Next mornin' he awakened me by singin', "Brightest and best of thesons of the morning"; and after that we got breakfast, and he startedon to Ty Jones's while I turned back to the Diamond Dot. I didn'tthink he'd be able to do much with that gang; but after the talk I'dhad with him the night before, I saw 'at they couldn't do much to him,either. I had got sort of a hint at his scheme of life; and thereisn't much you can do to a man who doesn't value his flesh more 'n theFriar did his.
Friar Tuck Page 5
