Chapter XXIII. Delivery

by Andy Adams

　　I shall never forget the next morning,--August 26, 1882. As we of thethird guard were relieved, about two hours before dawn, the windveered around to the northwest, and a mist which had been fallingduring the fore part of our watch changed to soft flakes of snow. Assoon as we were relieved, we skurried back to our blankets, drew thetarpaulin over our heads, and slept until dawn, when on being awakenedby the foreman, we found a wet, slushy snow some two inches in depthon the ground. Several of the boys in the outfit declared it was thefirst snowfall they had ever seen, and I had but a slight recollectionof having witnessed one in early boyhood in our old Georgia home. Wegathered around the fire like a lot of frozen children, and our onlysolace was that our drive was nearing an end. The two placermen paidlittle heed to the raw morning, and our pilot assured us that this wasbut the squaw winter which always preceded Indian summer.We made our customary early start, and while saddling up that morning,Flood and the two placer miners packed the beef on their two packhorses, first cutting off enough to last us several days. The cattle,when we overtook them, presented a sorry spectacle, apparently beingas cold as we were, although we had our last stitch of clothing on,including our slickers, belted with a horse hobble. But when Flood andour guide rode past the herd, I noticed our pilot's coat was not evenbuttoned, nor was the thin cotton shirt which he wore, but his chestwas exposed to that raw morning air which chilled the very marrow inour bones. Our foreman and guide kept in sight in the lead, the herdtraveling briskly up the long mountain divide, and about the middle ofthe forenoon the sun came out warm and the snow began to melt. Withinan hour after starting that morning, Quince Forrest, who was riding infront of me in the swing, dismounted, and picking out of the snow abrave little flower which looked something like a pansy, dropped backto me and said, "My weather gauge says it's eighty-eight degrees belowfreezo. But I want you to smell this posy, Quirk, and tell me on thedead thieving, do you ever expect to see your sunny southern homeagain? And did you notice the pock-marked colonel, baring his brisketto the morning breeze?"Two hours after the sun came out, the snow had disappeared, and thecattle fell to and grazed until long after the noon hour. Our pilotled us up the divide between the Missouri and the headwaters of theMusselshell during the afternoon, weaving in and out around the headsof creeks putting into either river; and towards evening we crossedquite a creek running towards the Missouri, where we secured amplewater for the herd. We made a late camp that night, and our guideassured us that another half day's drive would put us on the JudithRiver, where we would intercept the Fort Benton road.The following morning our guide led us for several hours up a gradualascent to the plateau, till we reached the tableland, when he left usto return to his own camp. Flood again took the lead, and within amile we turned on our regular course, which by early noon haddescended into the valley of the Judith River, and entered the FortMaginnis and Benton military road. Our route was now clearly defined,and about noon on the last day of the month we sighted, beyond theMissouri River, the flag floating over Fort Benton. We made a crossingthat afternoon below the Fort, and Flood went into the post, expectingeither to meet Lovell or to receive our final instructions regardingthe delivery.After crossing the Missouri, we grazed the herd over to the TetonRiver, a stream which paralleled the former watercourse,--the militarypost being located between the two. We had encamped for the night whenFlood returned with word of a letter he had received from our employerand an interview he had had with the commanding officer of FortBenton, who, it seemed, was to have a hand in the delivery of theherd. Lovell had been detained in the final settlement of my brotherBob's herd at the Crow Agency by some differences regarding weights.Under our present instructions, we were to proceed slowly to theBlackfoot Agency, and immediately on the arrival of Lovell at Benton,he and the commandant would follow by ambulance and overtake us. Thedistance from Fort Benton to the agency was variously reported to befrom one hundred and twenty to one hundred and thirty miles, six orseven days' travel for the herd at the farthest, and then good-by,Circle Dots!A number of officers and troopers from the post overtook us the nextmorning and spent several hours with us as the herd trailed out up theTeton. They were riding fine horses, which made our through saddlestock look insignificant in comparison, though had they coveredtwenty-four hundred miles and lived on grass as had our mounts, someof the lustre of their glossy coats would have been absent. Theylooked well, but it would have been impossible to use them or anydomestic bred horses in trail work like ours, unless a supply of graincould be carried with us. The range country produced a horse suitableto range needs, hardy and a good forager, which, when not overworkedunder the saddle, met every requirement of his calling, as well asbeing self-sustaining. Our horses, in fact, were in better flesh whenwe crossed the Missouri than they were the day we received the herd onthe Rio Grande. The spectators from the fort quitted us near themiddle of the forenoon, and we snailed on westward at our leisurelygait.There was a fair road up the Teton, which we followed for several dayswithout incident, to the forks of that river, where we turned up MuddyCreek, the north fork of the Teton. That noon, while catching saddlehorses, dinner not being quite ready, we noticed a flurry amongst thecattle, then almost a mile in our rear. Two men were on herd with themas usual, grazing them forward up the creek and watering as they came,when suddenly the cattle in the lead came tearing out of the creek,and on reaching open ground turned at bay. After several bunches hadseemingly taken fright at the same object, we noticed Bull Durham, whowas on herd, ride through the cattle to the scene of disturbance. Wesaw him, on nearing the spot, lie down on the neck of his horse, watchintently for several minutes, then quietly drop back to the rear,circle the herd, and ride for the wagon. We had been observing theproceedings closely, though from a distance, for some time. Daylightwas evidently all that saved us from a stampede, and as Bull Durhamgalloped up he was almost breathless. He informed us that an oldcinnamon bear and two cubs were berrying along the creek, and hadtaken the right of way. Then there was a hustling and borrowing ofcartridges, while saddles were cinched on to horses as though humanlife depended on alacrity. We were all feeling quite gala anyhow, andthis looked like a chance for some sport. It was hard to hold theimpulsive ones in check until the others were ready. The cattlepointed us to the location of the quarry as we rode forward. Whenwithin a quarter of a mile, we separated into two squads, in order togain the rear of the bears, cut them off from the creek, and forcethem into the open. The cattle held the attention of the bears untilwe had gained their rear, and as we came up between them and thecreek, the old one reared up on her haunches and took a mostastonished and innocent look at us.A single "woof" brought one of the cubs to her side, and she droppedon all fours and lumbered off, a half dozen shots hastening her pacein an effort to circle the horsemen who were gradually closing in. Inmaking this circle to gain the protection of some thickets whichskirted the creek, she was compelled to cross quite an open space, andbefore she had covered the distance of fifty yards, a rain of ropescame down on her, and she was thrown backward with no less than fourlariats fastened over her neck and fore parts. Then ensued a livelyscene, for the horses snorted and in spite of rowels refused to facethe bear. But ropes securely snubbed to pommels held them to thequarry. Two minor circuses were meantime in progress with the twocubs, but pressure of duty held those of us who had fastened on to theold cinnamon. The ropes were taut and several of them were about herthroat; the horses were pulling in as many different directions, yetthe strain of all the lariats failed to choke her as we expected. Atthis juncture, four of the loose men came to our rescue, and proposedshooting the brute. We were willing enough, for though we had betterthan a tail hold, we were very ready to let go. But while there wereplenty of good shots among us, our horses had now become wary, andcould not, when free from ropes, be induced to approach within twentyyards of the bear, and they were so fidgety that accurate aim wasimpossible. We who had ropes on the old bear begged the boys to getdown and take it afoot, but they were not disposed to listen to ourreasons, and blazed away from rearing horses, not one shot in tentaking effect. There was no telling how long this random shootingwould have lasted; but one shot cut my rope two feet from the noose,and with one rope less on her the old bear made some ugly surges, andhad not Joe Stallings had a wheeler of a horse on the rope, she wouldhave done somebody damage.The Rebel was on the opposite side from Stallings and myself, and assoon as I was freed, he called me around to him, and shifting his ropeto me, borrowed my six-shooter and joined those who were shooting.Dismounting, he gave the reins of his horse to Flood, walked up towithin fifteen steps of mother bruin, and kneeling, emptied bothsix-shooters with telling accuracy. The old bear winced at nearlyevery shot, and once she made an ugly surge on the ropes, but thethree guy lines held her up to Priest's deliberate aim. The vitalityof that cinnamon almost staggers belief, for after both six-shootershad been emptied into her body, she floundered on the ropes with allher former strength, although the blood was dripping and gushing fromher numerous wounds. Borrowing a third gun, Priest returned to thefight, and as we slacked the ropes slightly, the old bear reared,facing her antagonist. The Rebel emptied his third gun into her beforeshe sank, choked, bleeding, and exhausted, to the ground; and eventhen no one dared to approach her, for she struck out wildly with allfours as she slowly succumbed to the inevitable.One of the cubs had been roped and afterwards shot at close quarters,while the other had reached the creek and climbed a sapling which grewon the bank, when a few shots brought him to the ground. The two cubswere about the size of a small black bear, though the mother was alarge specimen of her species. The cubs had nice coats of soft fur,and their hides were taken as trophies of the fight, but the robe ofthe mother was a summer one and worthless. While we were skinning thecubs, the foreman called our attention to the fact that the herd haddrifted up the creek nearly opposite the wagon. During the encounterwith the bears he was the most excited one in the outfit, and was theman who cut my rope with his random shooting from horseback. But nowthe herd recovered his attention, and he dispatched some of us to ridearound the cattle. When we met at the wagon for dinner, the excitementwas still on us, and the hunt was unanimously voted the most excitingbit of sport and powder burning we had experienced on our trip.Late that afternoon a forage wagon from Fort Benton passed us withfour loose ambulance mules in charge of five troopers, who were goingon ahead to establish a relay station in anticipation of the trip ofthe post commandant to the Blackfoot Agency. There were to be tworelay stations between the post and the agency, and this detachmentexpected to go into camp that night within forty miles of ourdestination, there to await the arrival of the commanding officer andthe owner of the herd at Benton. These soldiers were out two days fromthe post when they passed us, and they assured us that the ambulancewould go through from Benton to Blackfoot without a halt, except forthe changing of relay teams. The next forenoon we passed the lastrelay camp, well up the Muddy, and shortly afterwards the road leftthat creek, turning north by a little west, and we entered on the lasttack of our long drive. On the evening of the 6th of September, as wewere going into camp on Two Medicine Creek, within ten miles of theagency, the ambulance overtook us, under escort of the troopers whomwe had passed at the last relay station. We had not seen Don Lovellsince June, when we passed Dodge, and it goes without saying that wewere glad to meet him again. On the arrival of the party, the cattlehad not yet been bedded, so Lovell borrowed a horse, and with Floodtook a look over the herd before darkness set in, having previouslyprevailed on the commanding officer to rest an hour and have supperbefore proceeding to the agency.When they returned from inspecting the cattle, the commandant andLovell agreed to make the final delivery on the 8th, if it wereagreeable to the agent, and with this understanding continued theirjourney. The next morning Flood rode into the agency, borrowingMcCann's saddle and taking an extra horse with him, having left usinstructions to graze the herd all day and have them in good shapewith grass and water, in case they were inspected that evening ontheir condition. Near the middle of the afternoon quite a cavalcaderode out from the agency, including part of a company of cavalrytemporarily encamped there. The Indian agent and the commandingofficer from Benton were the authorized representatives of thegovernment, it seemed, as Lovell took extra pains in showing them overthe herd, frequently consulting the contract which he held, regardingsex, age, and flesh of the cattle.The only hitch in the inspection was over a number of sore-footedcattle, which was unavoidable after such a long journey. But thecondition of these tender-footed animals being otherwise satisfactory,Lovell urged the agent and commandant to call up the men forexplanations. The agent was no doubt a very nice man, and there mayhave been other things that he understood better than cattle, for hedid ask a great many simple, innocent questions. Our replies, however,might have been condensed into a few simple statements. We had, werelated, been over five months on the trail; after the first month,tender-footed cattle began to appear from time to time in the herd, asstony or gravelly portions of the trail were encountered,--the numberso affected at any one time varying from ten to forty head. Frequentlywell-known lead cattle became tender in their feet and would drop backto the rear, and on striking soft or sandy footing recover and resumetheir position in the lead; that since starting, it was safe to say,fully ten per cent of the entire herd had been so affected, yet we hadnot lost a single head from this cause; that the general health of theanimal was never affected, and that during enforced layovers nearlyall so affected recovered. As there were not over twenty-fivesore-footed animals in the herd on our arrival, our explanation wassufficient and the herd was accepted. There yet remained the countingand classification, but as this would require time, it went over untilthe following day. The cows had been contracted for by the head, whilethe steers went on their estimated weight in dressed beef, thecontract calling for a million pounds with a ten per cent leeway overthat amount.I was amongst the first to be interviewed by the Indian agent, and onbeing excused, I made the acquaintance of one of two priests who werewith the party. He was a rosy-cheeked, well-fed old padre, whoinformed me that he had been stationed among the Blackfeet for overtwenty years, and that he had labored long with the government toassist these Indians. The cows in our herd, which were to bedistributed amongst the Indian families for domestic purposes, werethere at his earnest solicitation. I asked him if these cows would notperish during the long winter--my recollection was still vivid of thetouch of squaw winter we had experienced some two weeks previous. Buthe assured me that the winters were dry, if cold, and his people hadmade some progress in the ways of civilization, and had providedshelter and forage against the wintry weather. He informed me thatprevious to his labors amongst the Blackfeet their ponies winteredwithout loss on the native grasses, though he had since taught them tomake hay, and in anticipation of receiving these cows, such familiesas were entitled to share in the division had amply provided for theanimals' sustenance.Lovell returned with the party to the agency, and we were to bring upthe herd for classification early in the morning. Flood informed usthat a beef pasture had been built that summer for the steers, whilethe cows would be held under herd by the military, pending theirdistribution. We spent our last night with the herd singing songs,until the first guard called the relief, when realizing the latenessof the hour, we burrowed into our blankets."I don't know how you fellows feel about it," said Quince Forrest,when the first guard were relieved and they had returned to camp, "butI bade those cows good-by on their beds to-night without a regret or atear. The novelty of night-herding loses its charm with me when it'sdrawn out over five months. I might be fool enough to make anothersuch trip, but I 'd rather be the Indian and let the other fellowdrive the cows to me--there 's a heap more comfort in it."The next morning, before we reached the agency, a number of gaudilybedecked bucks and squaws rode out to meet us. The arrival of the herdhad been expected for several weeks, and our approach was a delight tothe Indians, who were flocking to the agency from the nearestvillages. Physically, they were fine specimens of the aborigines. Butour Spanish, which Quarternight and I tried on them, was asunintelligible to them as their guttural gibberish was to us.Lovell and the agent, with a detachment of the cavalry, met us about amile from the agency buildings, and we were ordered to cut out thecows. The herd had been grazed to contentment, and were accordinglyrounded in, and the task begun at once. Our entire outfit were turnedinto the herd to do the work, while an abundance of troopers held theherd and looked after the cut. It took about an hour and a half,during which time we worked like Trojans. Cavalrymen several timesattempted to assist us, but their horses were no match for ours in thework. A cow can turn on much less space than a cavalry horse, andexcept for the amusement they afforded, the military were of verylittle effect.After we had retrimmed the cut, the beeves were started for theirpasture, and nothing now remained but the counting to complete thereceiving. Four of us remained behind with the cows, but for over twohours the steers were in plain sight, while the two parties wereendeavoring to make a count. How many times they recounted them beforeagreeing on the numbers I do not know, for the four of us left withthe cows became occupied by a controversy over the sex of a youngIndian--a Blackfoot--riding a cream-colored pony. The controversyoriginated between Fox Quarternight and Bob Blades, who had discoveredthis swell among a band who had just ridden in from the west, and JohnOfficer and myself were appealed to for our opinions. The Indian waspointed out to us across the herd, easily distinguished by beads andbeaver fur trimmings in the hair, so we rode around to pass ourjudgment as experts on the beauty. The young Indian was not oversixteen years of age, with remarkable features, from which every traceof the aborigine seemed to be eliminated. Officer and myself were in aquandary, for we felt perfectly competent when appealed to for ouropinions on such a delicate subject, and we made every endeavor toopen a conversation by signs and speech. But the young Blackfoot paidno attention to us, being intent upon watching the cows. The neatlymoccasined feet and the shapely hand, however, indicated the feminine,and when Blades and Quarter-night rode up, we rendered our decisionaccordingly. Blades took exception to the decision and rode alongsidethe young Indian, pretending to admire the long plaits of hair, toyedwith the beads, pinched and patted the young Blackfoot, and finally,although the rest of us, for fear the Indian might take offense andraise trouble, pleaded with him to desist, he called the youth his"squaw," when the young blood, evidently understanding theappellation, relaxed into a broad smile, and in fair English said, "Mebuck."Blades burst into a loud laugh at his success, at which the Indiansmiled but accepted a cigarette, and the two cronied together, whilewe rode away to look after our cows. The outfit returned shortlyafterward, when The Rebel rode up to me and expressed himself ratherprofanely at the inability of the government's representatives tocount cattle in Texas fashion. On the arrival of the agent and others,the cows were brought around; and these being much more gentle, andbeing under Lovell's instruction fed between the counters in thenarrowest file possible, a satisfactory count was agreed upon at thefirst trial. The troopers took charge of the cows after counting, and,our work over, we galloped away to the wagon, hilarious and care free.McCann had camped on the nearest water to the agency, and after dinnerwe caught out the top horses, and, dressed in our best, rode into theagency proper. There was quite a group of houses for the attaches, onelarge general warehouse, and several school and chapel buildings. Iagain met the old padre, who showed us over the place. One could nothelp being favorably impressed with the general neatness andcleanliness of the place. In answer to our questions, the priestinformed us that he had mastered the Indian language early in hiswork, and had adopted it in his ministry, the better to effect theobject of his mission. There was something touching in the zeal ofthis devoted padre in his work amongst the tribe, and the recognitionof the government had come as a fitting climax to his work anddevotion.As we rode away from the agency, the cows being in sight under herd ofa dozen soldiers, several of us rode out to them, and learned thatthey intended to corral the cows at night, and within a weekdistribute them to Indian families, when the troop expected to returnto Fort Benton. Lovell and Flood appeared at the camp aboutdusk--Lovell in high spirits. This, he said, was the easiest deliveryof the three herds which he had driven that year. He was justified infeeling well over the year's drive, for he had in his possession avoucher for our Circle Dots which would crowd six figures closely. Itwas a gay night with us, for man and horse were free, and as we madedown our beds, old man Don insisted that Flood and he should maketheirs down alongside ours. He and The Rebel had been joking eachother during the evening, and as we went to bed were taking anoccasional fling at one another as opportunity offered."It's a strange thing to me," said Lovell, as he was pulling off hisboots, "that this herd counted out a hundred and twelve head more thanwe started with, while Bob Quirk's herd was only eighty-one long atthe final count;""Well, you see," replied The Rebel, "Quirk's was a steer herd, whileours had over a thousand cows in it, and you must make allowance forsome of them to calve on the way. That ought to be easy figuring for afoxy, long-headed Yank like you."