Rensselaer Republican, Volume 28, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 December 1896 — OUR STORY TELLER [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

OUR STORY TELLER

BILL’S RACE FOR HIS LIFE

FOR over a week it had been threatening great things. For a week nofeody on the “Lazy H.” ranch had caught more than a momentary glimpse of the sun. Chill winds .whistled and roared over the bleak and desolate prairies on the range and fitful whirls of rain made it all the more disagreeable to the weary boys who were at work night and day to keep the uneasy herd from rushing away to the desert of the south. Although it was early for wintry manifestations, yet that a serious storm was imminent was realized by all the men employed on the ranch. Great bunches of cattle milled at various points on the range, but little effort was made to break the mills, for fear they would be followed by the more serious danger of a general stampede. Riders constantly watched the fretful animals when they • became weary from hunger as' they rushed around in that ceaseless grind. Nothing but a wall of horns was to be seen, as the steers presented an unbroken front to all comers. With the muttering of the thunder came lowings and tossings of the horns with added energy in the tramp, tramp of the frightened animals. It was hard and weary work to keep the herd from starving as well as rushing wildly towards the gulf. All over the Panhandle country the same conditions existed, and that gloomy week in November was probably the most exciting tour of duty the ranchmen ever put in in a region where hard work abounds and the rewards are small. Ten thousands pairs of horns were enough to keep a small army of “Lazy H.” cowboys fairly busy when everything was pleasant. Now there was need for double their number. They were scattered in groups under subbosses, so that every man was doing two men’s work and that, too, without an opportunity for rest, excepting such aB could be snatched when the milling bunches were quiet for a few minutes. “If this thing keeps up much longer,” said “Curley” Brock, as the week was

almost goue, "1 allow I’ll jump the game. I'm almost all cashed in now and kaint stand it much longer. Just look at them bulls, a-millin’ and n-ipill--Ib’ there. Ever see anything so mean? Why, they ain’t done nothin’ fer a whole week but tramp about and go off their feed. I allow there ain’t no use of trying to break ’em, whatever.’* “They’ll break pretty soon,' or 1 lode my guess," said the boss, Bill Martin. “1 figure that them clouds’ll bust somewhere hereabouts, and then look out. Wisht I had some more ponies, or leastways some that were fresh. We got to ride considerble hard to keep up es they stampede, which I allow they will.” As be spoke a! long tongue of brilliant light left the clouds and, winding a devious and uncertain way across the black skies, plunged into the earth at no great distance from where the ranchmen stood. Instantly It was followed by a roar and rumble of thunder as if a park of artillery had suddenly gone into action. The sound was deafening, the thunder tn that country often being sufficiently severe to shake’the nerves of the strongest man. Following this came a roar as of some mighty cataract, as the wind took sudden volume and that huge bank of clouds bore rapidly down upon the milling beasts. Just as suddenly the animals halted in their march and turned frightened eyes in the direction of the advancing storm. Then they moved uneasily, tossed their boras and dug up the turf as the first spattering raindrops 'fell all - about and upon them. ' • -j->-“Here, you fellers,’ yelled Martin. “Got busy tbere an’ head off, them blamed steers. Don’t ye see they are goto’ to stampede? Hurry, and p’lnt •to at that gulch over tber. Hide, you devlla, as you never rid before.’’ 1 . Suiting the action to the word the

boss put his pony into a violent gallop and raced off toward the bunch, shouting out his orders as’he rode. He was mounted on a strong broncho, and it was well for him that the pony was comparatively fresh, for he soon found himself in a position of serious danger, and there he stuck for a long time. He was caught in that stampede and hurried off toward the gulf at a terrific speei, his #ony straining every nerve to keep ahead and the steers racing furiously behind in their efforts to get away from the storm. As Bill dashed off to turn the flank of the bupch, just as the animals commenced to change their revolving motion for a straight-away run, “Curley” lifted up his voice and quirt and made a furious onslaught on the nearest steer. He swung his deadly quirt and thwacked that bull with great vigor, communicating a sudden impetus to the animal’s movements. This had the effect of starting many others in the same direction, and a couple of hundred bore rapidly down on Martin, cutting him off and putting him in the direct pathway of the stampede. “Whatever are ye doin’, ye blamed fool,” roared Bill as he saw what had happened. “Come around on the other side, ye cayote, an’ head them bulls often me. Dum yer skin, think I’m part of this bunch?” “Curley” saw the mischief and attempted to divert the enemy, but it was too late. The other man had followed his lead and the steers instead of heading for the gulch were racing in a wild scrimmage, straight away to the south, hunting solitude. Bill went With them. He had to. It was his duty, any way, a thought that afforded him little consolation, for it was a race for life, with the chances about fifty to one on the bulls, with the same odds against him. Still, being a man of family, he gave his pony free rein and raced as he never did before or since, as he has frequently saitf himself. It was all “Curley’s” doing, as that astute cowboy charged with undue impetuosity at an angle

calculated to produce the result he had brought about. As the cattle raced constant additionswere made, until it semed that the entire herd was chasing Bill. He reflected as he ran tha£ he had this advantage, that when the ride was over, if he survived, he could locate all of the herd without much trouble. Just how long Tt 'would take "to terminate the drift was the problem, as the herd was mostly made up of young sters, full of life and fleet of foot. Bill particularly in his straining effort to avoid being inclosed in the rushing herd. He had a little the start o"f them; could he maintain it until a chance offered to quarter the drive and escape to one side? He dug his rowels into his pony’s flanks and swore vengeance on “Cjiriey” as soon as tlfff fun was over. On rushed Bill, and on rushed the cattle. Behind them, with yells and sbotits spurring them to great efforts, raced the boys. They were all pretty evenly matched, so that there was little change in their relative positions for a long time. * How long Bill does pot know. It seemed a week t 6 him, but nobody In' his plight could measure time with any degree of accuracy. The rain fell in torrents and the plains, now darkened by, the. fading day and the heavy greep black clouds, was fitfully lighted by the constant flashes of lightning, which mockingly illuminated the pathway in front of Bill, likewise the steers. At every flash and ejrery roar of thunder the pulls took on more steam, and after a short time Bill saw with apprehensionlhat they were gaining on him. Would they trample him in the mod? It began to look as If they might, for his pony’s wind was about gone and his panting was becoming short, sobbing gasps/ On they plunged, rider and pursued,

tnaklng record-Dreaking time In a country where hard riding and plenty of it iS-tbe dally portion of all. Over shelving, broken land, down into small aivoyos and out again „up the' steep ‘grades plunged and seethed that mass of struggling eattte. Some of the boys behind noticed here and there\tbe fallen figure of an exhausted steer as he fell from sheer weariness. They yelled encouragement to Bill, for this was a good sign, and indicated- that the herd was rapidly reaching the point when it would be compelled to stop. On they ran, however, without wavering, pursued by the storm and chasing the flying figure of the boss. Would'he escape death? Nobody could tell.

As the beaten pony struggled up a steep incline after a ma<J dash down into a gulch, Bill felt the hot breath of the advance guard of the cattle, furious as a furnace at his back. He cast a despairing glance .backward, urged his pony with foot and voice, and was tossed headlong to the ground. He fell from the stirrup, rolled about for an instant, and then lay still as he saw that mighty herd leaping over the spot where he went down. Bruised and sliakert by the tumble, half conscious from the shock, he lay there and with the curious inconsistency of him in imminent peril, comifteneed a desultory counting of the black forris which plunged over him. Where his pony was he did not know, and’he fell to speculating concerning him. On ran the steers and still Bill lay there, his dazed mind going through all kinds of 'arithmetical problems. Finally the last of the herd passed and the boss, one of the most experienced ranchmen of the wild West, rose to his elbow and sent a careful glance to the rear. He saw his men racing furiously after the cattle and' suddenly ducked again as the boys plunged over his position. Then it dawned on him where he was. He had fallen into a natural ditch too deep to wade over and just the right width to leap easily. This fact scad saved his life, for the first steer leaped the ditch and all of the others blindly followed suit. Bill was safe and he crawled out of his hole not grateful for his escape, but with a mind full of wrath against “Curley,” the cause of his downfall. The ditch had also saved the pony. The little broncho ‘fell when.he. .threw his ri(|er, and being deadbeat lay where he fell. As he had as much sense as his master, he kept quiet, and when Bill arose he saw that broncho quietly drinking at a small pool, his flanks still rising with undue rapidity, for he was very weak. Bill arose and introduced himself "by taking the bridle and giving the unoffending brute a savage kick. He then remounted and followed after the herd slowly, knowing that by this time, the storm having broken, the steers were willing •to quit, and that with plenty pf hard work they would all be collected. Well, it was as he expected. He-final-ly found the herd scattered about on the plans, some lying down and some grazing, but all showing evidences of that wild flight from the‘ driving storm. He alsb found those cowboys, lying dbout on the wet grass, too tired and too sav-, age to care what became of him. He advanced on the party and swung down from the saddle and stood scowling at the men as he hobbled his pony and prepared to arrange for the night.

"I allow yer about the best bunch of skunks I evefc see,” was his greeting. ■ “Whatever do ye mean in stampedin' that herd? Get up an’ get busy, all of ye. Scatter and see that them bulls don’t drift to where we all kain’t find ’em. Hear me?” “Which we do, Bill,” drawled “Curley” from where he lay all sprawled out in the ground, "An’ we all ain’t goin’, to do nothin’ of the sort. I allow them,' bulls is all right where they be, and they ain’t no use in stirrin’ of ’em, none .whatever.” “Who’s boss of this gang, me or yob, ye wiithless cayotej IV done nil the miehief with yer durned quirt. Get up Out of this or I'll sink my boot into ye.” "Which ye won’t do nothin’ of the kind, Bill,” was the growling answer, as "Curley” half rose and returned the sco\Vl of the boss with Interest. “I allow they ain’t goin’ to be no bootin' yere'. I, also allow I’m goin’ t<s stay right yere*. Es they’s goin’ to be any bootin’- X hereby declares myself ipto the game, and so I telis you plain." “Kin ye shoot?” roared Bill, unlimbering as be spoke. The two men gazed wrnthfully at each other for a moment hnd then the pistols blazed out, shot following phot until all were empty. When the action was over “Curley” was lying still on the ground with a hole in his lungs and Bill was nursing a badly wounded shoulder. Well, It was a bad business, but then none of the others felt any call to interfere, and the combatants were hastened back to the ranchhouse and medical aid summoned. Fortunately neither wgg fatally hurt, but “Curley” did hospital duty for the rest of the season and Bill took charge of the stables. He was scarcely “fitten,” as ha said, for duty with the herd.

“ON RUSHED BILL, AND ON RUSHED THE CATTLE."