"guess i'd better lend a hand," rob said to himself. he had been repairing an irrigation ditch on the west side of the ranch and for some time had been watching a cloud of dust to the east; it seemed to indicate fresh trouble from ludlum's hungry horde.
although scarcely ten days had passed since those scrub cattle had appeared in the hills, the famished animals had already broken fences, trampled growing wheat, horned last season's stacks and broken down banks of the irrigation ditches. and what was worse, if possible, than all that mischief, they were taking a great deal of rob's time, every moment of which was worth money.
"we're helpless to prevent it, too, i guess!" rob muttered as he started toward the scene of trouble; "helpless because there's no herd law in these hills. ludlum's got just as good right to the free range as we have, and, with his mortgage on harry's land, he can make it mighty bad for us if he finds us dogging his stock off. i'll get even with him for his meanness, though."
he glowered at the scattered bands of cattle that trailed along the fence, seeking an opening into the rich feed inside. how shortsighted he and the other [pg 194]foothill ranchers were not to have demanded a herd law long before!
as the law stood now the "cattle baron" had the advantage. he could run his hundreds of head of stock on the open range from april to september, or take them up into the reserve until that was eaten clean; then after shipping his beef "critters" he could drive the rest down on the south side to winter on the hay that he had bought from the farmers there. the man with fifty or a hundred head had no chance at all against him. if the big stockman's cattle, grazing unherded, got inside the rancher's fence and bloated on his alfalfa or grain, the stockman could collect heavy damages from the farmer, who had no redress for his damaged crops; it was the farmer's business to keep the stockman's cattle out.
it was a just law for the wilderness, but not at all the law for a region that was going under the fence. the men who were reclaiming the desert, who were turning the north slope of the foothills and the prairie into farms, who were raising grain and hay and building up small herds of cattle and sheep, were now the men to be protected by law. that protection a herd law would give them, for it would forbid stockmen to run their herds into the hills without riders to watch them, and it would make the stockmen liable for damages to fences or crops. that would mean, of course, that the big herds would not be turned into the hills at all; for it was only because they could be left there without herders that they had piled up the profits for their owners.
"pity sis couldn't have known what ludlum was planning to do up here himself," rob went on to himself. "she mightn't have fallen for the old lady's get-rich-easy talk. not that mrs. ludlum meant to gouge harry. she's square, and thinks he is, too, i guess. ludlum's sharp, that's all. drives a hard bargain. if we'd known how many of their scrubs we were going to ride after and feed for nothing, harry'd have been satisfied with thirty of her own, all right, especially now that the range is going dry."
as he stumbled along under the hot sun he saw harry coming on horseback. in her khaki jumper, divided skirt and riding boots she looked like a boy of sixteen.
"i'm awfully sorry to ask you to help," she began. "i can't get those critters of ludlum's out unless ours go, too. my! but i hate them!" she stopped abruptly, with a telltale quiver in her voice, and looked away. then quickly she braced herself. "if i could once get them outside, i'd take 'em so far they'd never find themselves, let alone find the road back here."
rob's eyes softened. poor old girl! she was doing her best, anyhow.
"i guess they won't bother us much more, harry," he said. "i have decided that i'll put on another wire. they can't jump four."
"another wire!" she exclaimed. "but, rob, have you thought of the expense!"
"not half so expensive as wasting time running them[pg 196] off. well, let's get busy. if you'll fetch jeff, i'll change these wet shoes."
obediently, harry went up the draw to the corral among the trees where they kept the work horses in summer. her head ached, and there was a lump in her throat. how considerate of her rob was! she had added just double to their difficulties, had added to their expenses, yet not one word of reproach did he give her. instead he was always ready to help whenever she came to him—and that was pretty often. handling cattle, she realized, was not to be learned by any "fifteen minutes a day" of study.
"cowboys certainly earn their wages," harry admitted with a weary sigh, when, after several hours of weary work they had at last got the strangers outside the fence and had driven back inside several of their own cattle that had gone out with the others.
it was six o'clock. they were both choked with dust, thirsty, saddle-sore and tired. harry, aching from head to foot, longed to get into a bath and put on some clean clothes; instead, she must wash a panful of dishes and cook supper.
"you're dead right," rob agreed. "a buckaroo earns every cent he gets, and its almost impossible to run cattle without them."
every word was a blow to harry's careless faith in herself. she listened in humble silence while rob went on:
"you can understand why i can't afford to ride cattle for nothing. i've simply got to disk that [pg 197]summer fallow and start work on the dam for the freshet-water reservoir. every day i spend like this means a big loss, not only to me, but to the ranch as an investment."
"of course. i can see that," harry answered quickly, "and i expect to pay you; but i haven't a cent of money now, as you know. i shall sell some steers in the fall, anyhow, and i can pay you then."
"i'd rather you paid me in cattle. after i've hired out harvesting, i ought to have enough cash to buy all the winter hay i'll need for my own stock, and maybe some for yours. i'll go to town to-morrow for that wire. maybe i can get it on time. that'll give me a little more cash to buy hay with."
harry wondered what she should do if the scrubs broke in while he was away. while mrs. ludlum had been talking, harry had been ready to believe that she could do anything; now the time had come for her to show what she was actually good for.
as soon as rob had left the next morning, therefore, she made a circuit outside the fence and ran off all the cattle in sight. to her relief, that kept them away until the afternoon feeding began; then, making a second tour, she dispersed the lines that were headed for the alfalfa.
"if i'd dogged them that way from the first," she thought, "they'd never have got inside at all."
rob did not get home that night, rather to harry's satisfaction. "it gives me another day to see what i can do with these critters."
[pg 198]
dawn comes early in the foothills at the end of june. long before four o'clock the sky was pink, the grouse were whistling in the alfalfa, the morning breeze had begun to flutter the quaking asps, a cool, fresh smell of juicy grass had risen from the earth, and the world of animals had begun to feed.
the cattle were the first to move. almost before dawn they leave their bedding ground and follow the scent of the nearest pasture. for ludlum's stock rob's wheat and alfalfa were the lure.
as they snuffed the sweetness of growing grass, the leaders of the herd broke into hungry bawling, set off at a gallop, and, as they reached the fence, plunged at it and went over.
harry woke to 'thello's furious barking. she woke with a start, got to her elbow and peered out. in the dim light she could make out forms moving across the field. with a sigh she climbed out of bed and, still nodding with sleep, dressed and stumbled off to saddle her pony, hike.
of the two gates to the alfalfa meadow, one led into the lane at the barn and the other into the east pasture. it was in that pasture that rob and harry were holding the new herd until the animals became accustomed to their home. now, as harry rode slowly down the lane, she wondered what would be her best plan of action.
if she ran the intruders out over the broken-down fence, they would merely turn round and come in again; but if she took them through the lane, up the draw and across the flat on top of the hills and ran them[pg 199] south a good way, they might continue down that side of the divide. "it would serve ludlum right," she said to herself, "to have his starved creatures break into his own alfalfa some morning!"
as she rode slowly toward the feeding animals the blood sprang to her temples and she drew a fierce breath. the sight of the starving beasts, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five of them, tearing away greedily at the tender alfalfa, roused in harry an indescribable ire.
"miserable beasts!" she exclaimed. "take 'em out, 'thello! that's it! get 'em, boy!"
obedient to training, the collie had kept close to the pony. now, at the sound of harry's voice, he was off—a vicious whirlwind of black fur. as he dashed upon the herd, snapping at heels here, there and everywhere, a stream of yelps rent the air.
shouting "hi yi! hi yi!" harry set spurs to the pony and came close behind.
away they all went, steers, cows, calves, dog and girl, plunging, bawling, barking and galloping across the field and into the lane. once actually in the lane, with the gate shut behind them, harry felt safe. to be sure, some of the bunch were ugly and tried to turn back; but she was on the lookout for those and, pushing her pony close, gave each laggard a welt with her rawhide whip that sent the sullen one ahead with a jump.
she forgot her annoyance at being routed out early, forgot the time she was wasting, almost forgot the trampled alfalfa. her sense of mastery blotted out the[pg 200] vexations. this was the work she really loved. even after they had got up into the hills, the feeling of power stayed with her and helped her to prevent the hungry scrubs from turning back. it was not easy work. though she was wet with sweat and smothered in dust, she determined to keep after them until they had turned the shoulder of the divide.
she had just given one sulky brute a sounding thwack, when a shout behind her made her wheel in surprise.
"hey! what's doin' here?"
over the ridge came a "cow puncher" riding at a lope. "ain't you herdin' them critters the wrong way, ma'am?" he inquired, with a queer smile.
"wrong for them, maybe, not for us," harry answered briefly. to herself she added, "who are you, anyhow?"
he certainly was the oddest-looking vaquero she had met on the range. he was plump and short, tow-haired and with no visible eyebrows; his skin was burned rose pink, and his pale-blue eyes were scorched by the desert sunlight. he looked like an overgrown fat baby; but a second glance showed her that his scowling eyes and smiling lips were only caused by the "sheepherder's grin" carved on his face by years of riding in blinding sunshine.
"i don't know whose cows you think you're rounding up," the "cow puncher" went on, "but the real owner wouldn't now—want 'em druv off. what i chiefly mean is, not right now."
"i'm sorry to disoblige the real owner," harry said, with a laugh, "but if you're a friend of his you can tell him that the 'real owner' of a bunch of cattle on the ranch below here claims the grazing on these hills, and that if he—that is to say, mr. ludlum—doesn't want his scrubs dogged, he can send a rider up here to keep them where they belong."
as always with harry, when her temper was up, she smiled, held her nose in the air and eyed her opponent with fine disdain.
the vaquero did not wither perceptibly. his grin merely became sarcastic. "you personally acquainted—that is, you know ludlum?" he inquired.
"i've made a beginning that way," harry said.
"beggin' your pardon," the man went on, "and speakin' like i was givin' a hint, i'd say that if this here owner of these-here scrubs gits on to what you're doin' you're likely to find you ain't got anything of your own to round up this fall. not that he'd run 'em off; that is, now. and you couldn't find 'em in his herd; no, not if you was to have every blamed critter up before a judge and jury to be sworn to. like's not ludlum'd try to help you locate your stock; he's right helpful, mebbe you've noticed? i'm ridin' for him now myself, and i've got my orders to keep these five hundred head in these-here hills—where they kin git to water on the north slope, is what i chiefly mean."
"but all the water on the north slope belongs to us," harry remarked, trying to control her indignation. "there isn't a spring outside, except where the stream[pg 202] runs beyond our fence, until you get to robinson's. and before i'll let ludlum water on my land, or on my brother's, i'll shoot every one of his miserable scrubs. you can tell him so, if you like; tell him i intend to keep right on dogging them off, too. please repeat every word of this to him. thank you. good morning."
with a jab of the spur into hike's side she was off.
"of all the hateful, mean, dishonorable creatures!" she whispered to herself. her eyes were hot with tears; she felt tricked, cheated, helpless. for the moment she did not realize that the "cow-puncher" had perhaps not meant all he said, had merely tried to frighten her.
she raced along, not noticing where she was going, and only came to herself when the pony, which had naturally turned toward home, slackened his gallop at the head of the draw. it was then about eight o'clock by the sun, still and hot, and the cattle flies were intolerable. the vision of the cold, deep spring under the wall of rock brought sudden relief to her vexed heart. sliding out of the saddle, she took the bridle over her arm and walked across the mountain grass toward the spring.
suddenly she came upon a grouse hen that had been wounded and had escaped to die, and she realized that the hunters were abroad once more. she kept looking to and fro on either side as she walked, and suddenly a strange sound, almost under her feet, made her jump.
"well, of all things!" she said slowly.
there lay a month-old heifer calf bleeding from a wound in its leg. the creature made no effort to escape as harry examined it; only gave a mournful moo! and rolled its eyes.
"you're not one of my calves," she said presently; "at least i think mine are all in the corral. you must be one of ludlum's; but you can't lie here and die, even if you are his. i'll get you down to the house somehow, and maybe when the cows come in your mother will come with them."
but no strange cow turned up lowing for a lost calf, and when rob returned he said that the only thing to do was to keep it until some range rider came looking for strays. they cleaned out the wound, which had been made by a shotgun, fed the calf on skimmed milk, and kept it in a dark corner of the barn where the flies would not torment it.
"that's joe biane's work," harry said emphatically. "it shows what may happen to our own calves at any time. he doesn't care what he hits when he's after birds. i think we should speak to the game warden about him."
"the trouble is that we didn't see joe shoot the calf, so we can't swear he did it. unless you can do that, you've got no case. it's not worth while, anyhow. you'd only get joe's ill will, and he'd make us more trouble than we've got already, which would be considerable. let's put all our time into getting a herd law through. we'll have to have all the ranchers in with us, and that includes the bianes. so don't rub joe the[pg 204] wrong way until we've got his vote. joe is nothing compared with the trouble ludlum may give us."
"he certainly may," she admitted, thinking of what the pink-faced rider had told her.
she decided to say nothing to rob about that incident. she reflected that there was no use bothering him with every little matter that came up between her and ludlum's herders over the question of the grazing.
