Chapter IV. Christmas

by Andy Adams

　　The branding on the home range was an easy matter. The cattle werecompelled to water from the Nueces, so that their range was never overfive or six miles from the river. There was no occasion even to take outthe wagon, though we made a one-night camp at the mouth of the Ganso,and another about midway between the home ranch and Shepherd's Ferry,pack mules serving instead of the wagon. On the home range, in gatheringto brand, we never disturbed the mixed cattle, cutting out only the cowsand calves. On the round-up below the Ganso, we had over three thousandcattle in one rodeo, finding less than five hundred calves belonging toLas Palomas, the bulk on this particular occasion being steer cattle.There had been little demand for steers for several seasons and they hadaccumulated until many of them were fine beeves, five and six years old.When the branding proper was concluded, our tally showed nearlyfifty-one hundred calves branded that season, indicating about twentythousand cattle in the Las Palomas brand. After a week's rest, withfresh horses, we re-rode the home range in squads of two, and brandedany calves we found with a running iron. This added nearly a hundredmore to our original number. On an open range like ours, it was notexpected that everything would be branded; but on quitting, it is safeto say we had missed less than one per cent of our calf crop.The cattle finished, we turned our attention to the branding of thehorse stock. The Christmas season was approaching, and we wanted to getthe work well in hand for the usual holiday festivities. There were somefifty manadas of mares belonging to Las Palomas, about one fourth ofwhich were used for the rearing of mules, the others growing our saddlehorses for ranch use. These bands numbered twenty to twenty-five broodmares each, and ranged mostly within twenty miles of the home ranch.They were never disturbed except to brand the colts, market surplusstock, or cut out the mature geldings to be broken for saddle use. Eachmanada had its own range, never trespassing on others, but when theywere brought together in the corral there was many a battle royal amongthe stallions.I was anxious to get the work over in good season, for I intended to askfor a two weeks' leave of absence. My parents lived near Cibollo Ford onthe San Antonio River, and I made it a rule to spend Christmas with myown people. This year, in particular, I had a double motive in goinghome; for the mouth of San Miguel and the McLeod ranch lay directly onmy route. I had figured matters down to a fraction; I would have a goodexcuse for staying one night going and another returning. And it wouldbe my fault if I did not reach the ranch at an hour when an invitationto remain over night would be simply imperative under the canons ofTexas hospitality. I had done enough hard work since the dance atShepherd's to drive every thought of Esther McLeod out of my mind ifthat were possible, but as the time drew nearer her invitation to callwas ever uppermost in my thoughts.So when the last of the horse stock was branded and the work was drawingto a close, as we sat around the fireplace one night and the questioncame up where each of us expected to spend Christmas, I broached myplan. The master and mistress were expected at the Booth ranch on theFrio. Nearly all the boys, who had homes within two or three days' ride,hoped to improve the chance to make a short visit to their people. When,among the others, I also made my application for leave of absence, UncleLance turned in his chair with apparent surprise. "What's that? You wantto go home? Well, now, that's a new one on me. Why, Tom, I never knewyou had any folks; I got the idea, somehow, that you was won on a horserace. Here I had everything figured out to send you down to Santa Mariawith Enrique. But I reckon with the ice broken, he'll have to swim outor drown. Where do your folks live?" I explained that they lived on theSan Antonio River, northeast about one hundred and fifty miles. At thisI saw my employer's face brighten. "Yes, yes, I see," said he musingly;"that will carry you past the widow McLeod's. You can go, son, and goodluck to you."I timed my departure from Las Palomas, allowing three days for the trip,so as to reach home on Christmas eve. By making a slight deviation,there was a country store which I could pass on the last day, where Iexpected to buy some presents for my mother and sisters. But I was in apickle as to what to give Esther, and on consulting Miss Jean, I foundthat motherly elder sister had everything thought out in advance. Therewas an old Mexican woman, a pure Aztec Indian, at a ranchita belongingto Las Palomas, who was an expert in Mexican drawn work. The mistress ofthe home ranch had been a good patron of this old woman, and the nextmorning we drove over to the ranchita, where I secured half a dozenladies' handkerchiefs, inexpensive but very rare.I owned a private horse, which had run idle all summer, and naturallyexpected to ride him on this trip. But Uncle Lance evidently wanted meto make a good impression on the widow McLeod, and brushed my plansaside, by asking me as a favor to ride a certain black horse belongingto his private string. "Quirk," said he, the evening before mydeparture, "I wish you would ride Wolf, that black six-year-old in mymount. When that rascal of an Enrique saddle-broke him for me, he alwaysmounted him with a free head and on the move, and now when I use himhe's always on the fidget. So you just ride him over to the San Antonioand back, and see if you can't cure him of that restlessness. It may bemy years, but I just despise a horse that's always dancing a jig when Iwant to mount him."Glenn Gallup's people lived in Victoria County, about as far from LasPalomas as mine, and the next morning we set out down the river. Ourcourse together only led a short distance, but we jogged along untilnoon, when we rested an hour and parted, Glenn going on down the riverfor Oakville, while I turned almost due north across country for themouth of San Miguel. The black carried me that afternoon as though thesaddle was empty. I was constrained to hold him in, in view of thelong journey before us, so as not to reach the McLeod ranch too early.Whenever we struck cattle on our course, I rode through them to passaway the time, and just about sunset I cantered up to the McLeod ranchwith a dash. I did not know a soul on the place, but put on a bold frontand asked for Miss Esther. On catching sight of me, she gave a littlestart, blushed modestly, and greeted me cordially.Texas hospitality of an early day is too well known to need comment;I was at once introduced to the McLeod household. It was rather apretentious ranch, somewhat dilapidated in appearance--appearancesare as deceitful on a cattle ranch as in the cut of a man's coat. TonyHunter, a son-in-law of the widow, was foreman on the ranch, and duringthe course of the evening in the discussion of cattle matters, Iinnocently drew out the fact that their branded calf crop of that seasonamounted to nearly three thousand calves. When a similar question wasasked me, I reluctantly admitted that the Las Palomas crop was quite adisappointment this year, only branding sixty-five hundred calves, butthat our mule and horse colts ran nearly a thousand head without equalsin the Nueces valley.I knew there was no one there who could dispute my figures, though Mrs.McLeod expressed surprise at them. "Ye dinna say," said my hostess,looking directly at me over her spectacles, "that Las Palomas brandedthat mony calves thi' year? Why, durin' ma gudeman's life we alwaybranded mair calves than did Mr. Lovelace. But then my husband wouldjoin the army, and I had tae depend on greasers tae do ma work, and oorkye grew up mavericks." I said nothing in reply, knowing it to be quitenatural for a woman or inexperienced person to feel always the prey ofthe fortunate and far-seeing.The next morning before leaving, I managed to have a nice private talkwith Miss Esther, and thought I read my title clear, when she surprisedme with the information that her mother contemplated sending her off toSan Antonio to a private school for young ladies. Her two elder sistershad married against her mother's wishes, it seemed, and Mrs. McLeod wasdetermined to give her youngest daughter an education and fit her forsomething better than being the wife of a common cow hand. This was theinference from the conversation which passed between us at the gate. Butwhen Esther thanked me for the Christmas remembrance I had brought her,I felt that I would take a chance on her, win or lose. Assuring her thatI would make it a point to call on my return, I gave the black a freerein and galloped out of sight.I reached home late on Christmas eve. My two elder brothers, who alsofollowed cattle work, had arrived the day before, and the Quirk familywere once more united, for the first time in two years. Within an hourafter my arrival, I learned from my brothers that there was to be adance that night at a settlement about fifteen miles up the river.They were going, and it required no urging on their part to insure thepresence of Quirk's three boys. Supper over, a fresh horse was furnishedme, and we set out for the dance, covering the distance in less thantwo hours. I knew nearly every one in the settlement, and got a cordialwelcome. I played the fiddle, danced with my former sweethearts, and,ere the sun rose in the morning, rode home in time for breakfast. Duringthat night's revelry, I contrasted my former girl friends on theSan Antonio with another maiden, a slip of the old Scotch stock,transplanted and nurtured in the sunshine and soil of the San Miguel.The comparison stood all tests applied, and in my secret heart I knewwho held the whip hand over the passions within me.As I expected to return to Las Palomas for the New Year, my time waslimited to a four days' visit at home. But a great deal can be said infour days; and at the end I was ready to saddle my black, bid my adieus,and ride for the southwest. During my visit I was careful not to betraythat I had even a passing thought of a sweetheart, and what parentswould suspect that a rollicking, carefree young fellow of twentycould have any serious intentions toward a girl? With brothers tooindifferent, and sisters too young, the secret was my own, though Wolf,my mount, as he put mile after mile behind us, seemed conscious that hismission to reach the San Miguel without loss of time was of more thanordinary moment. And a better horse never carried knight in the days ofchivalry.On reaching the McLeod ranch during the afternoon of the second day, Ifound Esther expectant; but the welcome of her mother was of a frigidorder. Having a Scotch mother myself, I knew something of arbitrarynatures, and met Mrs. McLeod's coolness with a fund of talk and stories;yet I could see all too plainly that she was determinedly on thedefensive. I had my favorite fiddle with me which I was taking back toLas Palomas, and during the evening I played all the old Scotch balladsI knew and love songs of the highlands, hoping to soften her from thedecided stand she had taken against me and my intentions. But herheritage of obstinacy was large, and her opposition strong, as severalwell-directed thrusts which reached me in vulnerable places made meaware, but I smiled as if they were flattering compliments. Severaltimes I mentally framed replies only to smother them, for I was thestranger within her gates, and if she saw fit to offend a guest she wasstill within her rights.But the next morning as I tarried beyond the reasonable hour for mydeparture, her wrath broke out in a torrent. "If ye dinna ken the wayhame, Mr. Quirk, I'll show it ye," she said as she joined Esther and meat the hitch-rack, where we had been loitering for an hour. "And I dinnacare muckle whaur ye gang, so ye get oot o' ma sight, and stay oot o'it. I thocht ye waur a ceevil stranger when ye bided wi' us last week,but noo I ken ye are something mair, ridin' your fine horses an' makin'presents tae ma lassie. That's a' the guid that comes o' lettin' her rintae every dance at Shepherd's Ferry. Gang ben the house tae your wark,ye jade, an' let me attend tae this fine gentleman. Noo, sir, gin ye onybusiness onywhaur else, ye 'd aye better be ridin' tae it, for ye are nowanted here, ye ken.""Why, Mrs. McLeod," I broke in politely. "You hardly know anything aboutme.""No, an' I dinna wish it. You are frae Las Palomas, an' that's ayeenough for me. I ken auld Lance Lovelace, an' those that bide wi' him.Sma' wonder he brands sae mony calves and sells mair kye than a' theither ranchmen in the country. Ay, man, I ken him well."I saw that I had a tartar to deal with, but if I could switch herinvective on some one absent, it would assist me in controlling myself.So I said to the old lady: "Why, I've known Mr. Lovelace now almost ayear, and over on the Nueces he is well liked, and considered a cowmanwhose word is as good as gold. What have you got against him?""Ower much, ma young freend. I kent him afore ye were born. I'm sorrytae say that while ma gudeman was alive, he was a frequent visitor atoor place. But we dinna see him ony mair. He aye keeps awa' frae here,and camps wi' his wagons when he's ower on the San Miguel to gathercattle. He was no content merely wi' what kye drifted doon on theNueces, but warked a big outfit the year around, e'en comin' ower on theFrio an' San Miguel maverick huntin'. That's why he brands twice thecalves that onybody else does, and owns a forty-mile front o' land onboth sides o' the river. Ye see, I ken him weel.""Well, isn't that the way most cowmen got their start?" I innocentlyinquired, well knowing it was. "And do you blame him for running hisbrand on the unowned cattle that roamed the range? I expect if Mr.Lovelace was my father instead of my employer, you wouldn't be talkingin the same key," and with that I led my horse out to mount."Ye think a great deal o' yersel', because ye're frae Las Palomas.Aweel, no vaquero of auld Lance Lovelace can come sparkin' wi' ma lass.I've heard o' auld Lovelace's matchmaking. I'm told he mak's matches andthen laughs at the silly gowks. I've twa worthless sons-in-law the noo,are here an' anither a stage-driver. Aye, they 're capital husbands forDonald McLeod's lassies, are they no? Afore I let Esther marry the firstscamp that comes simperin' aroond here, I'll put her in a convent, an'mak' a nun o' the bairn. I gave the ither lassies their way, an' look atthe reward. I tell ye I'm goin' to bar the door on the last one, an' theman that marries her will be worthy o' her. He winna be a vaquero fraeLas Palomas either!"I had mounted my horse to start, well knowing it was useless to arguewith an angry woman. Esther had obediently retreated to the safety ofthe house, aware that her mother had a tongue and evidently willing tobe spared its invective in my presence. My horse was fidgeting about,impatient to be off, but I gave him the rowel and rode up to the gate,determined, if possible, to pour oil on the troubled waters. "Mrs.McLeod," said I, in humble tones, "possibly you take the correct view ofthis matter. Miss Esther and I have only been acquainted a few months,and will soon forget each other. Please take me in the house and let metell her good-by.""No, sir. Dinna set foot inside o' this gate. I hope ye know ye're nowanted here. There's your road, the one leadin' south, an' ye'd betterbe goin', I'm thinkin'."I held in the black and rode off in a walk. This was the first cleanknock-out I had ever met. Heretofore I had been egotistical enough tohold my head rather high, but this morning it drooped. Wolf seemed tonotice it, and after the first mile dropped into an easy volunteer walk.I never noticed the passing of time until we reached the river, and theblack stopped to drink. Here I unsaddled for several hours; then wenton again in no cheerful mood. Before I came within sight of Las Palomasnear evening, my horse turned his head and nickered, and in a fewminutes Uncle Lance and June Deweese galloped up and overtook me. I hadfigured out several very plausible versions of my adventure, but thissudden meeting threw me off my guard--and Lance Lovelace was a hard manto tell an undetected, white-faced lie. I put on a bold front, but hissalutation penetrated it at a glance."What's the matter, Tom; any of your folks dead?""No.""Sick?""No.""Girl gone back on you?""I don't think.""It's the old woman, then?""How do you know?""Because I know that old dame. I used to go over there occasionally whenold man Donald was living, but the old lady--excuse me! I ought tohave posted you, Tom, but I don't suppose it would have done any good.Brought your fiddle with you, I see. That's good. I expect the old ladyread my title clear to you."My brain must have been under a haze, for I repeated every charge shehad made against him, not even sparing the accusation that he hadremained out of the army and added to his brand by mavericking cattle."Did she say that?" inquired Uncle Lance, laughing. "Why, the oldhellion! She must have been feeling in fine fettle!"