Chapter XX. Shadows

by Andy Adams

　　Spring was now at hand after an unusually mild winter. With the breakingof the drouth of the summer before there had sprung up all through theencinal and sandy lands an immense crop of weeds, called by the nativesmargoso, fallow-weed. This plant had thriven all winter, and thecattle had forsaken the best mesquite grazing in the river bottoms toforage on it. The results showed that their instinct was true; for withvery rare exceptions every beef on the ranch was fit for the butcher'sblock. Truly it was a year of fatness succeeding a lean one. Neverduring my acquaintance with Las Palomas had I seen the cattle comethrough a winter in such splendid condition. But now there was nomarket. Faint rumors reached us of trail herds being put up in near-bycounties, and it was known that several large ranches in Nueces Countywere going to try the experiment of sending their own cattle up thetrail. Lack of demand was discouraging to most ranchmen, and our rangewas glutted with heavy steer cattle.The first spring work of any importance was gathering the horses to filla contract we had with Captain Byler. Previous to the herd which Deweesehad sold and delivered at Fort Worth the year before, our horse stockhad amounted to about four thousand head. With the present sale theranch holdings would be much reduced, and it was our intention to retainall manadas used in the breeding of mules. When we commenced gatheringwe worked over every one of our sixty odd bands, cutting out all thefillies and barren mares. In disposing of whole manadas we kept onlythe geldings and yearlings, throwing in the old stallions for goodmeasure, as they would be worthless to us when separated from theirharems. In less than a week's time we had made up the herd, and as theywere all in the straight 'horse hoof' we did not road-brand them. Whilegathering them we put them under day and night herd, throwing in fiveremudas as we had agreed, but keeping back the bell mares, as theywere gentle and would be useful in forming new bands of saddle horses.The day before the appointed time for the delivery, the drover broughtup saddle horses and enough picked mares to make his herd number fifteenhundred.The only unpleasant episode of the sale was a difference betweenTheodore Quayle and my employer. Quayle had cultivated the friendship ofthe drover until the latter had partially promised him a job with theherd, in case there was no objection. But when Uncle Lance learned thatTheodore expected to accompany the horses, he took Captain Frank totask for attempting to entice away his men. The drover entered a strongdisclaimer, maintaining that he had promised Quayle a place only in caseit was satisfactory to all concerned; further, that in trail work withhorses he preferred Mexican vaqueros, and had only made the conditionalpromise as a favor to the young man. Uncle Lance accepted theexplanation and apologized to the drover, but fell on Theodore Quayleand cruelly upbraided him for forsaking the ranch without cause orreason. Theodore was speechless with humiliation, but no sooner werethe hasty words spoken than my employer saw that he had grievously hurtanother's feelings, and humbly craved Quayle's pardon.The incident passed and was apparently forgotten. The herd started northon the trail on the twenty-fifth of March, Quayle stayed on at LasPalomas, and we resumed our regular spring work on the ranch. Whilegathering the mares and fillies, we had cut out all the geldings fouryears old and upward to the number of nearly two hundred, and now ourusual routine of horse breaking commenced. The masons had completedtheir work on all three of the cottages and returned to the Mission, butthe carpenter yet remained to finish up the woodwork. Fidel and Juanahad begun housekeeping in their little home, and the cosy warmth whichradiated from it made me impatient to see my cottage finished. Throughthe mistress, arrangements had been made for the front rooms in bothJohn's cottage and mine to be floored instead of cemented.Some two weeks before Easter Sunday, Cotton returned from the Frio,where he had been making a call on his intended. Uncle Lance at oncequestioned him to know if they had set the day, and was informed thatthe marriage would occur within ten days after Lent, and that heexpected first to make a hurried trip to San Antonio for a weddingoutfit."That's all right, John," said the old ranchero approvingly, "and Iexpect Quirk might as well go with you. You can both draw every cent dueyou, and take your time, as wages will go right on the same as if youwere working. There will not be much to do except the usual horsebreaking and a little repairing about the ranch. It's quite likely Ishan't be able to spare Tom in the early summer, for if no cattle buyerscome along soon, I'm going to send June to the coast and let him sniffaround for one. I'd like the best in the world to sell about threethousand beeves, and we never had fatter ones than we have to-day. If wecan make a sale, it'll keep us busy all the fore part of the summer. Soboth you fellows knock off any day you want to and go up to the city.And go horseback, for this ranch don't give Bethel & Oxenford's stagesany more of its money."With this encouragement, we decided to start for the city the nextmorning. But that evening I concluded to give a certain roan gelding afinal ride before turning him over to the vaqueros. He was a viciousrascal, and after trying a hundred manoeuvres to unhorse me, reared andfell backward, and before I could free my foot from the stirrup, caughtmy left ankle, fracturing several of the small bones in the joint. Thatsettled my going anywhere on horseback for a month, as the next morningI could not touch my foot to the ground. John did not like to go alone,and the mistress insisted that Theodore was well entitled to a vacation.The master consented, each was paid the wages due him, and catching uptheir own private horses, the old cronies started off to San Antonio.They expected to make Mr. Booth's ranch in a little over half a day, andfrom there a sixty-mile ride would put them in the city.After the departure of the boys the dull routine of ranch work wentheavily forward. The horse breaking continued, vaqueros rode the rangelooking after the calf crop, while I had to content myself with nursinga crippled foot and hobbling about on crutches. Had I been able to ridea horse, it is quite possible that a ranch on the San Miguel would havehad me as its guest; but I must needs content myself with lying aroundthe house, visiting with Juana, or watching the carpenter finishing thecottages. I tried several times to interest my mistress in a scheme toinvite my sweetheart over for a week or two, but she put me off on onepretext and another until I was vexed at her lack of enthusiasm. Buttruth compels me to do that good woman justice, and I am now satisfiedthat my vexation was due to my own peevishness over my condition and notto neglect on her part. And just then she was taking such an absorbinginterest in June and the widow, and likewise so sisterly a concern forDan Happersett, that it was little wonder she could give me no specialattention when I was soon to be married. It was the bird in the bushthat charmed Miss Jean.Towards the close of March a number of showers fell, and we had a weekof damp, cloudy weather. This was unfortunate, as it called nearly everyman from the horse breaking to ride the range and look after the youngcalves. One of the worst enemies of a newly born calf is screw worms,which flourish in wet weather, and prove fatal unless removed; for noyoung calf withstands the pest over a few days. Clear dry weather wasthe best preventive against screw worms, but until the present dampspell abated every man in the ranch was in the saddle from sunrise tosunset.In the midst of this emergency work a beef buyer by the name of WayneOrahood reached the ranch. He was representing the lessees of asteamship company plying between New Orleans and Texas coast points. Themerchant at the ferry had advised Orahood to visit Las Palomas, but onhis arrival about noon there was not a white man on the ranch to showhim the cattle. I knew the anxiety of my employer to dispose of hismatured beeves, and as the buyer was impatient there was nothing to dobut get up horses and ride the range with him. Miss Jean was anxiousto have the stock shown, and in spite of my lameness I ordered saddlehorses for both of us. Unable to wear a boot and still hobbling oncrutches, I managed to Indian mount an old horse, my left foot still tooinflamed to rest in the stirrup. From the ranch we rode for the encinalridges and sandy lands to the southeast, where the fallow-weed stillthrove in rank profusion, and where our heaviest steers were liable torange. By riding far from the watering points we encountered the oldercattle, and within an hour after leaving the ranch I was showing some ofthe largest beeves on Las Palomas.How that beef buyer did ride! Scarcely giving the cattle a passing look,he kept me leading the way from place to place where our salable stockwas to be encountered. Avoiding the ranchitos and wells, where the cowsand younger cattle were to be found, we circled the extreme outskirts ofour range, only occasionally halting, and then but for a single glanceover some prime beeves. We turned westward from the encinal at a gallop,passing about midway between Santa Maria and the home ranch. Thence wepushed on for the hills around the head of the Ganso. Not once in theentire ride did we encounter any one but a Mexican vaquero, and therewas no relief for my foot in meeting him! Several times I had aninclination to ask Mr. Orahood to remember my sore ankle, and onstriking the broken country I suggested we ride slower, as many of ouroldest beeves ranged through these hills. This suggestion enabled me toease up and to show our best cattle to advantage until the sun set. Wewere then twenty-five miles from the ranch. But neither distance norapproaching darkness checked Wayne Orahood's enthusiasm. A dozen timeshe remarked, "We'll look at a few more cattle, son, and then ride inhome." We did finally turn homeward, and at a leisurely gait, but notuntil it was too dark to see cattle, and it was several hours afterdarkness when we sighted the lamps at headquarters, and finished thelast lap in our afternoon's sixty-mile ride.My employer and Mr. Orahood had met before, and greeted each other witha rugged cordiality common among cowmen. The others had eaten theirsupper; but while the buyer and I satisfied the inner man, Uncle Lancesat with us at the table and sparred with Orahood in repartee, or askedregarding mutual friends, artfully avoiding any mention of cattle.But after we had finished Mr. Orahood spoke of his mission, admitteddeprecatingly that he had taken a little ride south and west thatafternoon, and if it was not too much trouble he would like to lookover our beeves on the north of the Nueces in the morning. He showedno enthusiasm, but acknowledged that he was buying for shipment, andthought that another month's good grass ought to put our steers in faircondition. I noticed Uncle Lance clouding up over the buyer's lack ofappreciation, but he controlled himself, and when Mr. Orahood expresseda wish to retire, my employer said to his guest, as with candle in handthe two stood in parting:--"Well, now, Wayne, that's too bad about the cattle being so thin. I'vebeen working my horse stock lately, and didn't get any chance to ridethe range until this wet spell. But since the screw worms got so bad,being short-handed, I had to get out and rustle myself or we'd lost alot of calves. Of course, I have noticed a steer now and then, and havebeen sorry to find them so spring-poor. Actually, Wayne, if we wereexpecting company, we'd have to send to the ferry and get a piece ofbacon, as I haven't seen a hoof fit to kill. That roast beef which youhad for supper--well, that was sent us by a neighbor who has fat cows.About a year ago now, water was awful scarce with us, and a few old cowsdied up and down this valley. I suppose you didn't hear of it, livingso far away. Heretofore, every time we had a drouth there was such avolunteer growth of fallow-weed that the cattle got mud fat followingevery dry spell. Still I'll show you a few cattle among the guajio brushand sand hills on the divide in the morning and see what you think ofthem. But of course, if they lack flesh, in case you are buying forshipment I shan't expect you to bid on them."The old ranchero and the buyer rode away early the next morning, and didnot return until near the middle of the afternoon, having already agreedon a sale. I was asked to write in duplicate the terms and conditions.In substance, Las Palomas ranch agreed to deliver at Rockport on thecoast, on the twentieth of May, and for each of the following threemonths, twelve hundred and fifty beeves, four years old and upward.The consideration was $27.50 per head, payable on delivery. I knew myemployer had oversold his holdings, but there would be no trouble inmaking up the five thousand head, as all our neighbors would gladly turnin cattle to fill the contract. The buyer was working on commission, andthe larger the quantity he could contract for, the better he was suited.After the agreement had been signed in duplicate, Mr. Orahood smilinglyadmitted that ours were the best beeves he had bought that spring. "Iknew it," said Uncle Lance; "you don't suppose I've been ranching inthis valley over forty years without knowing a fat steer when I see one.Tom, send a muchacho after a bundle of mint. Wayne, you haven't got alick of sense in riding--I'm as tired as a dog."The buyer returned to Shepherd's the next morning. The horse breakingwas almost completed, except allotting them into remudas, assigningbell mares, and putting each band under herd for a week or ten days. Theweather was fairing off, relieving the strain of riding the range, andthe ranch once more relaxed into its languid existence. By a peculiarcoincidence, Easter Sunday occurred on April the 13th that year, itbeing also the sixty-sixth birthday of the ranchero. Miss Jean usuallygave a little home dinner on her brother's birthday, and had planned onefor this occasion, which was but a few days distant. In the mail whichhad been sent for on Saturday before Easter, a letter had come from JohnCotton to his employer, saying he would start home in a few days, andwanted Father Norquin sent for, as the wedding would take place onthe nineteenth of the month. He also mentioned the fact that Theodoreexpected to spend a day or two with the Booths returning, but he wouldride directly down to the Vaux ranch, and possibly the two would reachhome about the same time.I doubt if Uncle Lance ever enjoyed a happier birthday than this one.There was every reason why he should enjoy it. For a man of his age, hisyears rested lightly. The ranch had never been more prosperous. Even thedrouth of the year before had not proved an ill wind; for the damagethen sustained had been made up by conditions resulting in one of thelargest sales of cattle in the history of the ranch. A chapel and threenew cottages had been built without loss of time and at very littleexpense. A number of children had been born to the soil, while thenatives were as loyal to their master as subjects in the days offeudalism. There was but one thing lacking to fill the cup tooverflowing--the ranchero was childless. Possessed with a love of theland so deep as to be almost his religion, he felt the need of an heir."Birthdays to a man of my years," said Uncle Lance, over Easter dinner,"are food for reflection. When one nears the limit of his allotteddays, and looks back over his career, there is little that satisfies.Financial success is a poor equivalent for other things. But here I ampreaching when I ought to be rejoicing. Some one get John's letter andread it again. Let's see, the nineteenth falls on Saturday. Luckyday for Las Palomas! Well, we'll have the padre here, and if he saysbarbecue a beef, down goes the fattest one on the ranch. This is theyear in which we expect to press our luck. I begin to feel it in my oldbones that the turning-point has come. When Father Norquin arrives, Ithink I'll have him preach us a sermon on the evils of single life. Butthen it's hardly necessary, for most of you boys have got your eye onsome girl right now. Well, hasten the day, every rascal of you, andyou'll find a cottage ready at a month's notice."The morning following Easter opened bright and clear, while on everyhand were the signs of spring. A vaquero was dispatched to the Missionto summon the padre, carrying both a letter and the compliments of theranch. Among the jobs outlined for the week was the repairing of a well,the walls of which had caved in, choking a valuable water supply withdebris. This morning Deweese took a few men and went to the well, toraise the piping and make the necessary repairs, curbing being the mostimportant. But while the foreman and Santiago Ortez were standing ona temporary platform some thirty feet down, a sudden and unexpectedcave-in occurred above them. Deweese saw the danger, called to hiscompanion, and, in a flash laid hold of a rope with which materialswere being lowered. The foreman's warning to his companion reached thehelpers above, and Deweese was hastily windlassed to the surface, butthe unfortunate vaquero was caught by the falling debris, he and theplatform being carried down into the water beneath. The body of Ortezwas recovered late that evening, a coffin was made during the night, andthe next morning the unfortunate man was laid in his narrow home.The accident threw a gloom over the ranch. Yet no one dreamt that asecond disaster was at hand. But the middle of the week passed withoutthe return of either of the absent boys. Foul play began to besuspected, and meanwhile Father Norquin arrived, fully expecting tosolemnize within a few days the marriage of one of the missing men.Aaron Scales was dispatched to the Vaux ranch, and returned the nextmorning by daybreak with the information that neither Quayle nor Cottonhad been seen on the Frio recently. A vaquero was sent to the Boothranch, who brought back the intelligence that neither of the missingboys had been seen since they passed northward some two weeks before.Father Norquin, as deeply affected as any one, returned to the Mission,unable to offer a word of consolation. Several days passed withouttidings. As the days lengthened into a week, the master, as deeplymortified over the incident as if the two had been his own sons, lethis suspicion fall on Quayle. And at last when light was thrown on themystery, the old ranchero's intuition proved correct.My injured foot improved slowly, and before I was able to resume myduties on the ranch, I rode over one day to the San Miguel for a shortvisit. Tony Hunter had been down to Oakville a few days before myarrival, and while there had met Clint Dansdale, who was well acquaintedwith Quayle and Cotton. Clint, it appeared, had been in San Antonio andmet our missing men, and the three had spent a week in the city chummingtogether. As Dansdale was also on horseback, the trio agreed to starthome the same time, traveling in company until their ways separated.Cotton had told Dansdale what business had brought him to the city, andreceived the latter's congratulations. The boys had decided to leave forhome on the ninth, and on the morning of the day set forth, moneylessbut rich in trinkets and toggery. But some where about forty miles southof San Antonio they met a trail herd of cattle from the Aransas River.Some trouble had occurred between the foreman and his men the daybefore, and that morning several of the latter had taken French leave.On meeting the travelers, the trail boss, being short-handed, hadoffered all three of them a berth. Quayle had accepted without aquestion. The other two had stayed all night with the herd, Dansdaleattempting to dissuade Cotton, and Quayle, on the other hand, persuadinghim to go with the cattle. In the end Quayle's persuasions won. Dansdaleadmitted that the opportunity appealed strongly to him, but he refusedthe trail foreman's blandishments and returned to his ranch, while thetwo Las Palomas lads accompanied the herd, neither one knowing or caringwhere they were going.When I returned home and reported this to my employer, he was visiblyaffected. "So that explains all," said he, "and my surmises regardingTheodore were correct. I have no particular right to charge him withingratitude, and yet this ranch was as much his home as mine. He had thesame to eat, drink, and wear as I had, with none of the concern, and yethe deserted me. I never spoke harshly to him but once, and now I wish Ihad let him go with Captain Byler. That would have saved me Cotton andthe present disgrace to Las Palomas. I ought to have known that a goodhonest boy like John would be putty in the hands of a fellow likeTheodore. But it's just like a fool boy to throw away his chances inlife. They still sell their birthright for a mess of pottage. And therestands the empty cottage to remind me that I have something to learn.Old as I am, my temper will sometimes get away from me. Tom, you are mynext hope, and I am almost afraid some unseen obstacle will arise asthis one did. Does Frances know the facts?" I answered that Hunter hadkept the facts to himself, not even acquainting his own peoplewith them, so that aside from myself he was the first to know theparticulars. After pacing the room for a time in meditation, Uncle Lancefinally halted and asked me if Scales would be a capable messenger tocarry the news to the Vaux family. I admitted that he was the mosttactful man on the ranch. Aaron was summoned, given the particulars, andcommanded to use the best diplomacy at his command in transmitting thefacts, and to withhold nothing; to express to the ranchman and hisfamily the deep humiliation every one at Las Palomas felt over theactions of John Cotton.Years afterward I met Quayle at a trail town in the north. In thelimited time at our command, the old days we spent together in theNueces valley occupied most of our conversation. Unmentioned by me, hisdesertion of Las Palomas was introduced by himself, and in attempting toapologize for his actions, he said:--"Quirk, that was the only dirty act I was ever guilty of. I never wantto meet the people the trick was practiced on. Leaving Las Palomas wasas much my privilege as going there was. But I was unfortunate enough toincur a few debts while living there that nothing but personal revengecould ever repay. Had it been any other man than Lance Lovelace, he or Iwould have died the morning Captain Byler's horse herd started from theNueces River. But he was an old man, and my hand was held and my tonguewas silent. You know the tricks of a certain girl who, with her foot onmy neck, stretched forth a welcoming hand to a rival. Tom, I have livedto pay her my last obligation in a revenge so sweet that if I die anoutcast on the roadside, all accounts are square."