In the Hands of His Friends

by Andy Adams

There was a painting at the World's Fair at Chicago named "The Reply,"in which the lines of two contending armies were distinctly outlined.One of these armies had demanded the surrender of the other. The replywas being written by a little fellow, surrounded by grim veteransof war. He was not even a soldier. But in this little fellow'scountenance shone a supreme contempt for the enemy's demand. Hispatriotism beamed out as plainly as did that of the officer dictatingto him. Physically he was debarred from being a soldier; still therewas a place where he could be useful.So with Little Jack Martin. He was a cripple and could not ride, buthe could cook. If the way to rule men is through the stomach, Jackwas a general who never knew defeat. The "J+H" camp, where he presidedover the kitchen, was noted for good living. Jack's domestic tastesfollowed him wherever he went, so that he surrounded himself at thiscamp with chickens, and a few cows for milk. During the spring months,when the boys were away on the various round-ups, he planted andraised a fine garden. Men returning from a hard month's work wouldbrace themselves against fried chicken, eggs, milk, and freshvegetables. After drinking alkali water for a month and living out oftin cans, who wouldn't love Jack? In addition to his garden, he alwaysraised a fine patch of watermelons. This camp was an oasis in thedesert. Every man was Jack's friend, and an enemy was an unknownpersonage. The peculiarity about him, aside from his deformity, washis ability to act so much better than he could talk. In fact he couldbarely express his simplest wants in words.Cripples are usually cross, irritable, and unpleasant companions. Jackwas the reverse. His best qualities shone their brightest when therewere a dozen men around to cook for. When they ate heartily he felt hewas useful. If a boy was sick, Jack could make a broth, or fix a cupof beef tea like a mother or sister. When he went out with the wagonduring beef-shipping season, a pot of coffee simmered over the fireall night for the boys on night herd. Men going or returning on guardliked to eat. The bread and meat left over from the meals of theday were always left convenient for the boys. It was the many littlethings that he thought of which made him such a general favorite withevery one.Little Jack was middle-aged when the proclamation of the Presidentopening the original Oklahoma was issued. This land was to be thrownopen in April. It was not a cow-country then, though it had been once.There was a warning in this that the Strip would be next. The dominionof the cowman was giving way to the homesteader. One day Jack foundopportunity to take Miller, our foreman, into his confidence. Theyhad been together five or six years. Jack had coveted a spot in thesection which was to be thrown open, and he asked the foreman to helphim get it. He had been all over the country when it was part of therange, and had picked out a spot on Big Turkey Creek, ten miles southof the Strip line. It gradually passed from one to another of us whatJack wanted. At first we felt blue about it, but Miller, who couldsee farther than the rest of us, dispelled the gloom by announcing atdinner, "Jack is going to take a claim if this outfit has a horse init and a man to ride him. It is only a question of a year or two atthe farthest until the rest of us will be guiding a white mule betweentwo corn rows, and glad of the chance. If Jack goes now, he will havejust that many years the start of the rest of us."We nerved ourselves and tried to appear jolly after this talk of theforeman. We entered into quite a discussion as to which horse would bethe best to make the ride with. The ranch had several specially goodsaddle animals. In chasing gray wolves in the winter those qualitiesof endurance which long races developed in hunting these enemies ofcattle, pointed out a certain coyote-colored horse, whose color marksand "Dead Tree" brand indicated that he was of Spanish extraction.Intelligently ridden with a light rider he was First Choice on whichto make this run. That was finally agreed to by all. There was notrouble selecting the rider for this horse with the zebra marks. Thelightest weight was Billy Edwards. This qualification gave him thepreference over us all.Jack described the spot he desired to claim by an old branding-penwhich had been built there when it had been part of the range. Billyhad ironed up many a calf in those same pens himself. "Well, Jack,"said Billy, "if this outfit don't put you on the best quarter sectionaround that old corral, you'll know that they have throwed off onyou."It was two weeks before the opening day. The coyote horse was givenspecial care from this time forward. He feasted on corn, while othershad to be content with grass. In spite of all the bravado that wasbeing thrown into these preparations, there was noticeable a deepundercurrent of regret. Jack was going from us. Every one wanted himto go, still these dissolving ties moved the simple men to acts ofboyish kindness. Each tried to outdo the others, in the matter of aparting present to Jack. He could have robbed us then. It was as badas a funeral. Once before we felt similarly when one of the boys diedat camp. It was like an only sister leaving the family circle.Miller seemed to enjoy the discomfiture of the rest of us. Thiscreedless old Christian had fine strata in his make-up. He and Jackplanned continually for the future. In fact they didn't live in thepresent like the rest of us. Two days before the opening, we loadedup a wagon with Jack's effects. Every man but the newly installed cookwent along. It was too early in the spring for work to commence. Weall dubbed Jack a boomer from this time forward. The horse so muchdepended on was led behind the wagon.On the border we found a motley crowd of people. Soldiers had gatheredthem into camps along the line to prevent "sooners" from enteringbefore the appointed time. We stopped in a camp directly north of theclaim our little boomer wanted. One thing was certain, it would take abetter horse than ours to win the claim away from us. No sooner couldtake it. That and other things were what all of us were going alongfor.The next day when the word was given that made the land public domain,Billy was in line on the coyote. He held his place to the front withthe best of them. After the first few miles, the others followed thevalley of Turkey Creek, but he maintained his course like wild fowl,skirting the timber which covered the first range of hills back fromthe creek. Jack followed with the wagon, while the rest of us rodeleisurely, after the first mile or so. When we saw Edwards bearstraight ahead from the others, we argued that a sooner only couldbeat us for the claim. If he tried to out-hold us, it would be sixto one, as we noticed the leaders closely when we slacked up. By notfollowing the valley, Billy would cut off two miles. Any man who couldride twelve miles to the coyote's ten with Billy Edwards in the saddlewas welcome to the earth. That was the way we felt. We rode together,expecting to make the claim three quarters of an hour behind our man.When near enough to sight it, we could see Billy and another horsemanapparently protesting with one another. A loud yell from one of usattracted our man's attention. He mounted his horse and rode out andmet us. "Well, fellows, it's the expected that's happened this time,"said he. "Yes, there's a sooner on it, and he puts up a fine bluff ofhaving ridden from the line; but he's a liar by the watch, for thereisn't a wet hair on his horse, while the sweat was dripping from thefetlocks of this one.""If you are satisfied that he is a sooner," said Miller, "he has togo.""Well, he is a lying sooner," said Edwards.We reined in our horses and held a short parley. After a briefdiscussion of the situation, Miller said to us: "You boys go down tohim,--don't hurt him or get hurt, but make out that you're going tohang him. Put plenty of reality into it, and I'll come in in time tosave him and give him a chance to run for his life."We all rode down towards him, Miller bearing off towards the right ofthe old corral,--rode out over the claim noticing the rich soilthrown up by the mole-hills. When we came up to our sooner, all of usdismounted. Edwards confronted him and said, "Do you contest my rightto this claim?""I certainly do," was the reply."Well, you won't do so long," said Edwards. Quick as a flash Mouseprodded the cold steel muzzle of a six-shooter against his ear. As thesooner turned his head and looked into Mouse's stern countenance, oneof the boys relieved him of an ugly gun and knife that dangled fromhis belt. "Get on your horse," said Mouse, emphasizing his demand withan oath, while the muzzle of a forty-five in his ear made the orderundebatable. Edwards took the horse by the bits and started for alarge black-jack tree which stood near by. Reaching it, Edwards said,"Better use Coon's rope; it's manilla and stronger. Can any of youboys tie a hangman's knot?" he inquired when the rope was handed him."Yes, let me," responded several."Which limb will be best?" inquired Mouse."Take this horse by the bits," said Edwards to one of the boys, "tillI look." He coiled the rope sailor fashion, and made an ineffectualattempt to throw it over a large limb which hung out like a yard-arm,but the small branches intervening defeated his throw. While he wascoiling the rope to make a second throw, some one said, "Mebby so he'dlike to pray.""What! him pray?" said Edwards. "Any prayer that he might offercouldn't get a hearing amongst men, let alone above, where liars areforbidden.""Try that other limb," said Coon to Edwards; "there's not so muchbrush in the way; we want to get this job done sometime to-day." AsEdwards made a successful throw, he said, "Bring that horse directlyunderneath." At this moment Miller dashed up and demanded, "What inhell are you trying to do?""This sheep-thief of a sooner contests my right to this claim,"snapped Edwards, "and he has played his last cards on this earth. Leadthat horse under here.""Just one moment," said Miller. "I think I know this man--thinkhe worked for me once in New Mexico." The sooner looked at Millerappealingly, his face blanched to whiteness. Miller took the bridlereins out of the hands of the boy who was holding the horse, andwhispering something to the sooner said to us, "Are you all ready?""Just waiting on you," said Edwards. The sooner gathered up the reins.Miller turned the horse halfway round as though he was going to leadhim under the tree, gave him a slap in the flank with his hand, andthe sooner, throwing the rowels of his spurs into the horse, shotout from us like a startled deer. We called to him to halt, as half adozen six-shooters encouraged him to go by opening a fusillade on thefleeing horseman, who only hit the high places while going. Nor didwe let up fogging him until we emptied our guns and he entered thetimber. There was plenty of zeal in this latter part, as the lead musthave zipped and cried near enough to give it reality. Our object wasto shoot as near as possible without hitting.Other horsemen put in an appearance as we were unsaddling andpreparing to camp, for we had come to stay a week if necessary. Inabout an hour Jack joined us, speechless as usual, his face wreathedin smiles. The first step toward a home he could call his own had beentaken. We told him about the trouble we had had with the sooner, astory which he seemed to question, until Miller confirmed it. We putup a tent among the black-jacks, as the nights were cool, and weresoon at peace with all the world.At supper that evening Edwards said: "When the old settlers hold theirreunions in the next generation, they'll say, 'Thirty years ago UncleJack Martin settled over there on Big Turkey,' and point him out totheir children as one of the pioneer fathers."No one found trouble in getting to sleep that night, and the next dayarts long forgotten by most of us were revived. Some plowed up the oldbranding-pen for a garden. Others cut logs for a cabin. Every onedid two ordinary days' work. The getting of the logs together was thehardest. We sawed and chopped and hewed for dear life. The first fewdays Jack and one of the boys planted a fine big garden. On the fourthday we gave up the tent, as the smoke curled upward from our ownchimney, in the way that it does in well-told stories. The lastnight we spent with Jack was one long to be remembered. A bright firesnapped and crackled in the ample fireplace. Every one told stories.Several of the boys could sing "The Lone Star Cow-trail," while "SamBass" and "Bonnie Black Bess" were given with a vim.The next morning we were to leave for camp. One of the boys who wouldwork for us that summer, but whose name was not on the pay-roll untilthe round-up, stayed with Jack. We all went home feeling fine,and leaving Jack happy as a bird in his new possession. As we weresaddling up to leave, Miller said to Jack, "Now if you're any good,you'll delude some girl to keep house for you 'twixt now and fall.Remember what the Holy Book says about it being hard luck for man tobe alone. You notice all your boomer neighbors have wives. That's ahint to you to do likewise."We were on the point of mounting, when the coyote horse began to actup in great shape. Some one said to Edwards, "Loosen your cinches!""Oh, it's nothing but the corn he's been eating and a few days' rest,"said Miller. "He's just running a little bluff on Billy." As Edwardswent to put his foot in the stirrup a second time, the coyote rearedlike a circus horse. "Now look here, colty," said Billy, speakingto the horse, "my daddy rode with Old John Morgan, the Confederatecavalry raider, and he'd be ashamed of any boy he ever raised thatcouldn't ride a bad horse like you. You're plum foolish to act thisway. Do you think I'll walk and lead you home?" He led him out a fewrods from the others and mounted him without any trouble. "He justwants to show Jack how it affects a cow-horse to graze a few days on aboomer's claim,--that's all," said Edwards, when he joined us."Now, Jack," said Miller, as a final parting, "if you want a cow, I'llsend one down, or if you need anything, let us know and we'll comea-running. It's a bad example you've set us to go booming this way,but we want to make a howling success out of you, so we can visityou next winter. And mind what I told you about getting married," hecalled back as he rode away.We reached camp by late noon. Miller kept up his talk about what afine move Jack had made; said that we must get him a stray beef forhis next winter's meat; kept figuring constantly what else he could dofor Jack. "You come around in a few years and you'll find him as cosyas a coon, and better off than any of us," said Miller, when we weretalking about his farming. "I've slept under wet blankets with him,and watched him kindle a fire in the snow, too often not to know whathe's made of. There's good stuff in that little rascal."About the ranch it seemed lonesome without Jack. It was like cominghome from school when we were kids and finding mother gone to theneighbor's. We always liked to find her at home. We busied ourselvesrepairing fences, putting in flood-gates on the river, doing anythingto keep away from camp. Miller himself went back to see Jack withinten days, remaining a week. None of us stayed at the home ranch anymore than we could help. We visited other camps on hatched excuses,until the home round-ups began. When any one else asked us about Jack,we would blow about what a fine claim he had, and what a boost wehad given him. When we buckled down to the summer's work the gloomgradually left us. There were men to be sent on the eastern, western,and middle divisions of the general round-up of the Strip. Two menwere sent south into the Cheyenne country to catch anything that hadwinter-drifted. Our range lay in the middle division. Miller and oneman looked after it on the general round-up.It was a busy year with us. Our range was full stocked, and by earlyfall was rich with fat cattle. We lived with the wagon after theshipping season commenced. Then we missed Jack, although the new cookdid the best he knew how. Train after train went out of our pasture,yet the cattle were never missed. We never went to camp now; only thewagon went in after supplies, though we often came within sight of thestabling and corrals in our work.One day, late in the season, we were getting out a train load of "BarbWire" cattle, when who should come toddling along on a plow nag butJack himself. Busy as we were, he held quite a levee, though he didn'tgive down much news, nor have anything to say about himself or thecrops. That night at camp, while the rest of us were arranging theguards for the night, Miller and Jack prowled off in an oppositedirection from the beef herd, possibly half a mile, and afoot, too. Wecould all see that something was working. Some trouble was botheringJack, and he had come to a friend in need, so we thought. They did notcome back to camp until the moon was up and the second guard had goneout to relieve the first. When they came back not a word was spoken.They unrolled Miller's bed and slept together.The next morning as Jack was leaving us to return to his claim, weoverheard him say to Miller, "I'll write you." As he faded fromour sight, Miller smiled to himself, as though he was tickled aboutsomething. Finally Billy Edwards brought things to a head by askingbluntly, "What's up with Jack? We want to know.""Oh, it's too good," said Miller. "If that little game-legged roosterhasn't gone and deluded some girl back in the State into marrying him,I'm a horse-thief. You fellows are all in the play, too. Came herespecial to see when we could best get away. Wants every one of us tocome. He's built another end to his house, double log style, flooredboth rooms and the middle. Says he will have two fiddlers, andpromises us the hog killingest time of our lives. I've accepted theinvitation on behalf of the 'J+H's' without consulting any one.""But supposing we are busy when it takes place," said Mouse, "thenwhat?""But we won't be," answered Miller. "It isn't every day that we havea chance at a wedding in our little family, and when we get the word,this outfit quits then and there. Ordinary callings in life, likecattle matters, must go to the rear until important things areattended to. Every man is expected to don his best togs, and dance tothe centre on the word. If it takes a week to turn the trick properly,good enough. Jack and his bride must have a blow-out right. Thisoutfit must do themselves proud. It will be our night to howl, andevery man will be a wooly wolf."We loaded the beeves out the next day, going back after two trains of"Turkey Track" cattle. While we were getting these out, Miller cut outtwo strays and a cow or two, and sent them to the horse pasture at thehome camp. It was getting late in the fall, and we figured that a fewmore shipments would end it. Miller told the owners to load out whatthey wanted while the weather was fit, as our saddle horses weregetting worn out fast. As we were loading out the last shipment ofmixed cattle of our own, the letter came to Miller. Jack would returnwith his bride on a date only two days off, and the festivities wereset for one day later. We pulled into headquarters that night, thefirst time in six weeks, and turned everything loose. The next morningwe overhauled our Sunday bests, and worried around trying to pick outsomething for a wedding present.Miller gave the happy pair a little "Flower Pot" cow, which he hadrustled in the Cheyenne country on the round-up a few years before.Edwards presented him with a log chain that a bone-picker had lost inour pasture. Mouse gave Jack a four-tined fork which the hay outfithad forgotten when they left. Coon Floyd's compliments went with fivecow-bells, which we always thought he rustled from a boomer's wagonthat broke down over on the Reno trail. It bothered some of us torustle something for a present, for you know we couldn't buy anything.We managed to get some deer's antlers, a gray wolf's skin for thebride's tootsies, and several colored sheepskins, which we had boughtfrom a Mexican horse herd going up the trail that spring. We killeda nice fat little beef, the evening before we started, hanging it outover night to harden. None of the boys knew the brand; in fact, it'sbad taste to remember the brand on anything you've beefed. No onetroubles himself to notice it carefully. That night a messengerbrought a letter to Miller, ordering him to ship out the remnantof "Diamond Tail" cattle as soon as possible. They belonged to anorthwest Texas outfit, and we were maturing them. The messengerstayed all night, and in the morning asked, "Shall I order cars foryou?""No, I have a few other things to attend to first," answered Miller.We took the wagon with us to carry our bedding and the other plunder,driving along with us a cow and a calf of Jack's, the little "FlowerPot" cow, and a beef. Our outfit reached Jack's house by the middle ofthe afternoon. The first thing was to be introduced to the bride. Jackdid the honors himself, presenting each one of us, and seemed just asproud as a little boy with new boots. Then we were given introductionsto several good-looking neighbor girls. We began to feel our owninferiority.While we were hanging up the quarters of beef on some pegs on thenorth side of the cabin, Edwards said, whispering, "Jack must havepictured this claim mighty hifalutin to that gal, for she's a way upgood-looker. Another thing, watch me build to the one inside with theblack eyes. I claimed her first, remember. As soon as we get this beefhung up I'm going in and sidle up to her.""We won't differ with you on that point," remarked Mouse, "but if shetakes any special shine to a runt like you, when there's boys like therest of us standing around, all I've got to say is, her tastes must bea heap sight sorry and depraved. I expect to dance with the bride--inthe head set--a whirl or two myself.""If I'd only thought," chimed in Coon, "I'd sent up to the State andgot me a white shirt and a standing collar and a red necktie. Yougaloots out-hold me on togs. But where I was raised, back down in PaloPinto County, Texas, I was some punkins as a ladies' man myself--youhear me.""Oh, you look all right," said Edwards. "You would look all right withonly a cotton string around your neck."After tending to our horses, we all went into the house. There satMiller talking to the bride just as if he had known her always, withJack standing with his back to the fire, grinning like a cat eatingpaste. The neighbor girls fell to getting supper, and our cook turnedto and helped. We managed to get fairly well acquainted with thecompany by the time the meal was over. The fiddlers came early, infact, dined with us. Jack said if there were enough girls, we couldrun three sets, and he thought there would be, as he had asked everyone both sides of the creek for five miles. The beds were taken downand stowed away, as there would be no use for them that night.The company came early. Most of the young fellows brought their bestgirls seated behind them on saddle horses. This manner gave the girl achance to show her trustful, clinging nature. A horse that would carrydouble was a prize animal. In settling up a new country, primitivemethods crop out as a matter of necessity.Ben Thorn, an old-timer in the Strip, called off. While the companywas gathering, the fiddlers began to tune up, which sent a thrillthrough us. When Ben gave the word, "Secure your pardners for thefirst quadrille," Miller led out the bride to the first position inthe best room, Jack's short leg barring him as a participant. This wasthe signal for the rest of us, and we fell in promptly. The fiddlesstruck up "Hounds in the Woods," the prompter's voice rang out "Honorsto your pardner," and the dance was on.Edwards close-herded the black-eyed girl till supper time. Not a oneof us got a dance with her even. Mouse admitted next day, as we rodehome, that he squeezed her hand several times in the grand right andleft, just to show her that she had other admirers, that she needn'tthrow herself away on any one fellow, but it was no go. After supperBilly corralled her in a corner, she seeming willing, and stuck to heruntil her brother took her home nigh daylight.Jack got us boys pardners for every dance. He proved himself cleanstrain that night, the whitest little Injun on the reservation. Weknocked off dancing about midnight and had supper,--good coffee withno end of way-up fine chuck. We ate as we danced, heartily. Supperover, the dance went on full blast. About two o'clock in the morning,the wire edge was well worn off the revelers, and they showed signs ofweariness. Miller, noticing it, ordered the Indian war-dance asgiven by the Cheyennes. That aroused every one and filled the setsinstantly. The fiddlers caught the inspiration and struck into "Siftthe Meal and save the Bran." In every grand right and left, we ki-yiedas we had witnessed Lo in the dance on festive occasions. At the endof every change, we gave a war-whoop, some of the girls joining in,that would have put to shame any son of the Cheyennes.It was daybreak when the dance ended and the guests departed. Thoughwe had brought our blankets with us, no one thought of sleeping. Ourcook and one of the girls got breakfast. The bride offered to help,but we wouldn't let her turn her hand. At breakfast we discussed theincidents of the night previous, and we all felt that we had done theoccasion justice.

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