Cruisings in the Cascades Part 16

COWBOY LIFE.

The workings of the law of evolution are plainly discernible in the development of the "cowboy," a certain prominent and now well-defined character of the far West--one that was made necessary by, and has grown out of, the vast cattle interests which have, in the past two or three decades, spread over that mystic region. His counterpart is scarcely to be found anywhere else in the civilized world, for the very good reason that such a species of manhood is not required anywhere else. True, cattle-raising is carried on extensively in many States of our Union and in various other countries, but nowhere under the same conditions and on the same plan as in the West; hence, though herders, drovers, and the like are employed elsewhere, there is no locality in which a cla.s.s of men endowed with such characteristics and requiring such peculiar tastes and faculties are to be found as are combined in the cowboy of our Western plains. The life he leads and the services he is required to perform call into the business young men possessing tastes and traits different from those of average human nature, and such as are not found in men following any other vocation, as a cla.s.s. It is an occupation that entails, generally speaking, a life of isolation from society, and in many cases from civilization. It is one in which home comforts must be dispensed with; it is one requiring its devotees to live on plain food, in log huts, and to sleep in blankets at best; it is one in which there is often intense hards.h.i.+p and suffering, and which exposes its disciples to dangers of various kinds.

When all these facts and peculiarities of the calling are considered we must readily perceive that men of ordinary tastes and inclinations would not seek to engage in it. Cowboys are not "native and to the manor born." They do not follow in the footsteps of their fathers as do young men on Eastern farms. The business is yet too young in our Western Territories to have brought about this state of affairs, though it will come to exist in future. But at present cowboys are all exotics, transplanted from Eastern soil. Let us consider, then, what manner of boy or young man would adopt such a calling. Certainly not he who considers a well-spread table, a cozy, cheerful room, a good soft bed, and neat, tasty clothing essential to his health and happiness; nor he who is unwilling to sever his connection with the social circle or the family group; nor he who must have his daily paper, his comfortable office chair and desk; his telegraph and other commercial facilities and comforts; nor yet he who, when he travels, must needs ride in a comfortable carriage on the highway, or a Pullman coach on the railway.

But the young man who is willing to engage in the occupation of "rustling cattle" on the plains, who is willing to a.s.sume the t.i.tle of "cowboy," must be he who, although he may love all these luxuries, and may perhaps have been accustomed to enjoy them, has in his nature enough of romance, enough love for outdoor life, enough love of sport, excitement, and adventure, enough enthusiasm for the wild freedom of the frontier, to be willing to deny himself all these luxuries and to allow such pleasures as the ranch and range can afford, to compensate for them.

The love of money can not enter largely into the consideration of the question, for while the work is often of the hardest kind a man can endure and the hours of labor only limited by the men's power of endurance, the wages usually paid are low. From $25 to $35 a month is the average rate of wages for all good men on the range except the foreman, who commands from $60 to $75 a month, according to his ability, the number of men he is to have charge of, and the responsibility of his position generally. Ambition to succeed to this dignity, or a desire to learn the cattle-growing business with a view of engaging in it on their own account, may induce some boys to engage as herders, but the young man who deliberately chooses this occupation is usually one with a superabundance of vim, energy, and enthusiasm; one who chafes under the restraints of society, who is bored and annoyed by the quiet humdrum life of the Eastern village, city, or farm house; one who longs to go where he can breathe fresh air, exercise his arms, legs, and lungs, if need be, without disturbing the peace; one who, in short, requires more room to live in than his birthplace affords.

Many a cowboy of to-day was, in his childhood or youth, the street gamin, the newsboy, the "hard nut" at school; the dare-devil of the rural districts; the hero of daring exploits; the boy who did not fear to climb to the top of the highest tree to punch a squirrel out of his hole; who led the raid on an orchard or watermelon patch on a dark night; who at college was at the head of all wild, reckless frolics, and was also well up in his cla.s.ses; who led the village marshal or the city policeman many a wild-goose chase and caused them many a sleepless night by his innocent though mischievous pranks. He is the boy who was always ready for a lark of any kind that could produce excitement, fun, or adventure without bringing serious harm to anyone. He was not the vicious, thieving, lying, sneaking boy, but the irrepressible, uncontrollable, wild, harum-scarum chap who led the gang; the champion of the weak; the boy who would fight "at the drop of the hat" in defense of a friend of his own s.e.x or of even a stranger of the opposite s.e.x.

These are the boys of ten, twenty, or thirty years ago whom to-day you may find riding wild cayuses on the cattle ranges of the boundless plains.

As a cla.s.s, they have been shamefully maligned. That there are bad, vicious characters amongst them can not be denied, but that many of the murders, thefts, arsons, and other depredations which are committed in the frontier towns and charged to cowboys, are really committed by Indians, b.u.mmers, superannuated buffalo hunters, and other hangers on, who never do an honest day's work of any kind, but who eke out a miserable, half-starved existence by gambling, stealing, poisoning wolves, etc., is a fact well known to every close student of frontier life. And yet, crimes and misdemeanors are occasionally committed by men who are, for the time being at least, regularly employed in riding the range. Fugitives from justice, thieves, cut-throats, and hoodlums of all cla.s.ses from the large cities have drifted West, and have sought employment on the ranges because nothing better or more congenial offered; but such are seldom employed, and if employed at all, are generally discharged as soon as their true character is learned and their places can be filled by worthier men.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE "WOOLLY COWBOY."]

Neither do I wish to defend the "fresh" young man from the East who goes West to "paralyze" the natives, who gets a job on the ranch, makes a break for "loud togs," arms, and knives, large nickel-plated spurs, raises a crop of long hair and "catches on" to all the bad language of the country, fills up on bad whisky at every opportunity and then a.s.serts that "he's a wolf, it's his night to howl."

Nor do I wish to defend the swarthy, loud-oathed, heavily-armed "greaser" of Mexico and the Texan ranges, who accounts himself a "cowboy" _par excellence_, but who much prefers the filthy atmosphere of the gambling den, or the variety dive of frontier towns, to the pure air of the prairies. These are the exceptions, and fortunately are in a "distinguished minority," and it is but just that all such swaggering humbugs should be loaded with the obloquy they deserve, and should be appropriately branded, even as their master's beasts are branded, that all the world might know them, wherever found, for the infamous humbugs that they are. My purpose here is to champion the frank, honest, energetic, industrious young fellows who engage in this calling from pure motives, most of whom have fair educations, and some of whom are graduates of Eastern colleges--who are brimful of pure horse-sense, and who are ambitious to earn an honest living, and to make themselves useful to their employers in every possible way, aside from their ability to snare a bullock. Many of these are Nature's n.o.blemen, and their good qualities s.h.i.+ne through their rough garb, as the sunlight of heaven s.h.i.+nes through a rift in a dark cloud. Their hearts, though encased in blue flannel or water-proof canvas, are as light as the air they breathe; their minds as pure and clear as the mountain brooks from which they love to drink; their whole natures as generous and liberal as the boundless meadows upon which their herds graze, and their hospitality only limited by the supply of food and other comforts they have with which to entertain a visitor. Strangers are always welcome at their shacks, and no matter at what time of day or night you arrive, you and your horses are promptly taken care of, you are invited to stay and eat, to sleep if you will, and are promptly given to understand that the best the ranch affords is at your command. I have known many of these men intimately, and have never known one who would not cheerfully share his last ounce of food, his last dollar, or his only blanket with a needy stranger; or who would not walk and allow an unfortunately dismounted traveler to ride his horse half way to camp, or the ranch, even though that might be a hundred miles away. They invariably refuse all remuneration for services or accommodations of such nature, and if it be pressed upon them, the stranger is liable to be told in language more expressive than elegant they don't make their living by taking care of tenderfeet.

As a cla.s.s, they are brimful and running over with wit, merriment, and good humor. They are always ready for any bit of innocent fun, but are not perpetually spoiling for a fight, as has so often been said of them.

They are at peace with all men, and would not be otherwise from choice.

As a rule, if a man quarrel with one of them, he forces the war and is himself to blame. Their love of fun often leads to trouble, though generally because the victim of it does not know how, or is not willing, to either "chip in" or excuse himself. They are fond of "piping off"

anything that is particularly conspicuous, or _vice versa_, no matter to whom it belongs, and they dislike to see sn.o.bbish airs a.s.sumed in their country, though such might pa.s.s current in any Eastern city.

I once saw a dude step out of a hotel in Cheyenne, wearing a silk hat, cut-away coat, lavender pants, high pressure collar, scarlet velvet scarf, patent leather shoes, etc. Several cowboys were riding through the street and spied him.

"Say, d.i.c.k," said one of them, "what de ye s'pose it is?"

"Let's tackle it and see," said d.i.c.k; "it looks alive."

"Pard, hadn't you better put them togs on ice?" queried another of the party. "They're liable to spile in this climate."

The youth was highly offended, gave them a haughty, withering look, and without deigning a reply of any kind turned to walk back into the hotel.

"Let's brand it," said d.i.c.k, and as quick as a flash a lariat fell about the dude, closed round his slender waist, and he was a prisoner. The boys gathered round him, chaffed him good-naturedly, took his hat and rubbed the nap the wrong way, put some alkali mud on his shoes, and then released him, bidding him "go in and put on some clothes." A little good-natured repartee on his part, or an invitation to drink or smoke, or a pleasant reply of any kind, would have let him out without any unpleasant treatment; but he scorned them, and they considered it a duty to society to post him on how to act when away from home.

A friend relates having seen an eccentric individual, with a long plaid ulster, walking along the princ.i.p.al street in Miles City, and as the sun came out from behind a cloud and commenced to beam down with a good deal of force, he raised a green umbrella. A "cow puncher" rode up and, pointing at the umbrella, asked:

"What is she pard? Fetch her in and put a drink in 'er."

The man was both scared and mad. He thought he had been insulted by one of those "notorious, ruffianly cowboys." He called "police." But the police was not at hand, and in the disturbance that followed his umbrella was spirited away, he knew not whither or by whom, and his plaid ulster was somewhat damaged by contact with mother earth. All he would have had to do to preserve the peace and his self-respect, would have been to answer the fellow good-naturedly in the first place, either declining or accepting his invitation, and he could have gone on his way unmolested; but he brought a small-sized riot on himself by a.s.suming a dignity that was out of place in that country and under such circ.u.mstances.

In common with all other human beings, the cowboy requires and must have amus.e.m.e.nt of some kind, and his isolated condition, depriving him of the privileges of theatres, parties, billiards, and other varieties of amus.e.m.e.nt that young men in the States usually indulge in; of the refining and restraining influences of the female s.e.x, it is but natural that his exuberance of spirit should find sport of other kinds. His only sources of amus.e.m.e.nt on the ranch are his rifle, revolver, bronco, lariat, and cards, and in course of time he tires of these and seeks a change. He goes to town and meets there some of his comrades or acquaintances, and they indulge in some wild pranks, which to Eastern people, and especially those who happen to fall victims to their practical jokes, appear ruffianly. Their love of excitement and adventure sometimes gets the better of their judgment, and they carry their fun to excess. They corral the crew of a train which has stopped at the station, and amuse themselves and the pa.s.sengers by making the conductor, brakeman, baggageman, engineer, and fireman dance a jig to the music of six-shooters. In one instance they boarded the train and made the Theo. Thomas orchestra (which happened to be aboard) give them an extemporaneous concert. They have even been known to carry their revels to a still worse stage than this, and to resort to acts of real abuse and injury against defenseless people. But such acts on the part of genuine cowboys are rare. They are usually perpetrated by the cla.s.s, already mentioned, of "fresh" young chaps or objectional characters who drift into the business from other than pure motives, and frequently by pretended cowboys who are not such in any sense of the term. But by whomsoever perpetrated, such acts are highly offensive to and vigorously condemned by the respectable element in the business, both employers and employes. Much odium has attached to the fraternity by such conduct, and much more by reason of crimes committed by others and charged to this cla.s.s, so that the cowboy is in much worse repute among Eastern people than he would be if better known by them. And notwithstanding all the hard things with which these men have been charged, I had much rather take my chances, as to safety of life and personal property, in a country inhabited only by them than in any Eastern town or city with all their police "protection." When sojourning in cattle countries, I have left my camp day after day and night after night, with valuable property of various kinds lying in and about it, without any attempt at concealment. I have left my horses and mules to graze, wholly unguarded, several days and nights together, and though on my return I may have seen that my camp had been visited, probably by several men, not a thing had been disturbed, except that perchance some of them had been hungry and had eaten a meal at my expense. It is the custom of the country to leave camps and cabins at any time, and for as long a time as necessary, without locking up or concealment of any kind, and instances of stealing under such circ.u.mstances are almost unheard of, while he who would leave personal property similarly exposed within the bounds of civilization would scarcely hope to find it on his return.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ON THE TRAIL.]

An incident may serve to ill.u.s.trate how suddenly Eastern people change their opinions of cowboys on close acquaintance. I was going west a few years since on the Northern Pacific Railroad, and stepping off the train at d.i.c.kinson, Dak., met Howard Eaton, an old-time friend and fellow hunter, a typical cowboy, who has charge of a ranch and a large herd of cattle in the "Bad Lands" on the Little Missouri river. He was dressed in the regulation costume of the craft--canvas pants and jacket, leather _chaparejos_, blue flannel s.h.i.+rt, and broad-brimmed white felt hat. His loins were girt about with a well-filled cartridge-belt, from which hung the six-shooter, which may almost be termed a badge of the order. Large Mexican spurs rattled at his heels as he walked. He had ridden thirty-five miles under the spur, arriving at the station just in time to catch the train, and having no time to change his apparel, even if he had wished to do so. He was going some distance on the same train, and I invited him into the sleeper. As he entered and walked down the aisle the pa.s.sengers became suddenly alarmed at the apparition--imagining that the train had been corraled by a party of the terrible cowboys of whom they had heard such blood-curdling tales, and that this was a committee of one sent in to order them to throw up their hands. They looked anxiously and timidly from the windows for the rest of the gang and listened for the popping of revolvers, but when I conducted him to our section and introduced him to my wife they began to feel easier. He remarked casually that he was hungry. We had a well-filled lunch-basket with us, and, ordering a table placed in position, my wife hastily spread its contents before him. He ate as only a cowboy can eat, especially after having lately ridden thirty-five miles in three hours.

Our fellow pa.s.sengers became interested spectators, and after our friend had finished his repast we introduced him to several of them. They were agreeably surprised to discover in conversation his polished manners, his fluent and well-chosen language. His handsome though sunburned face, and his kind, genial nature revealed the fact that his rough garb encased the form of an educated and cultured gentleman; and before we had been an hour together they had learned to respect and admire the wild, picturesque character whom at first they had feared.

The skill which some of these men attain in their profession challenges the admiration of everyone who is permitted to witness exhibitions of it. As riders they can not be excelled in the world, and I have seen some of them perform feats of horsemans.h.i.+p that were simply marvelous. A cowboy is required to ride anything that is given him and ask no questions. A wild young bronco that has never been touched by the hand of man is sometimes roped out of a herd and handed over to one of the boys with instructions to "ride him." With the aid of a companion or two he saddles and mounts him, and the scene that ensues baffles description. A bucking cayuse must be seen under the saddle, under a limber cowboy, and on his native heath, in order to be appreciated at his true worth. His movements are not always the same--in fact, are extremely varied, and are doubtless intended to be a series of surprises even to an old hand at the business. The bronco is ingenious--he is a strategist. Sometimes the first break a "fresh" one makes is to try to get out of the country as fast as possible. If so, the rider allows him to go as far and as fast as he likes, for nothing will tame him quicker than plenty of hard work. But he soon finds that he can not get out from under his load in this way, and generally reverses his tactics before going far. Sometimes he stops suddenly--so suddenly as to throw an inexperienced rider a long ways in front of him. But a good cowboy, or "bronco buster," as he would be termed while engaged in this branch of the business, is a good stayer and keeps his seat. The horse may then try to jump out from under his rider--first forward then backward, or _vice versa_. Then he may spring suddenly sidewise, either to right or left, or both. Then he may do some lofty tumbling acts, alighting most always stiff-legged; sometimes with his front end the highest and sometimes about level, but usually with his hinder parts much the highest and with his back arched like that of a mad cat. He keeps his nose as close to the ground as he can get it. Sometimes he will utter an unearthly squeal that makes one's blood run cold, and will actually eat a few mouthfuls of the earth when he gets mad enough. Sometimes he will throw himself in his struggles, and again as a last resort he will lie down and roll. This must free him for a moment, but the daring and agile rider is in the saddle again as soon as the beast is on his feet. Then the horse is likely to wheel suddenly from side to side and to spin round and round on his hind feet like a top; to snort and bound hither and thither like a rubber ball. During all this time the valiant rider sits in his saddle, loose-jointed and limp as a piece of buckskin, his body swaying to and fro with the motions of his struggling steed like a leaf that is fanned by the summer breeze. He holds a tight rein, keeping his horse's head as high as possible, and plunges the rowels into his flanks, first on one side and then on the other, until frequently the ground is copiously sprinkled with the blood of the fiery steed. The duration of this scene is limited simply by the powers of endurance of the horse, for in nearly every instance he will keep up his struggles until he sinks upon the ground exhausted, and, for the time being at least, is subdued. Then he is forced upon his feet again and may generally be ridden the remainder of that day without further trouble.

He is awkward, of course, but rapidly learns the use of bit and spur, and soon becomes useful. Many of these ponies, however, are never permanently subdued, and will "buck" every time they are mounted. Others will, all through life, start off quietly when first mounted, but suddenly take a notion to buck any time in the day. This cla.s.s is the most dangerous, for the best rider is liable to be caught at a disadvantage when off his guard and thrown, and many a poor cowboy has been crippled for life, and many killed outright by these vicious brutes.

I have seen "pilgrims" inveigled into riding "bucking cayuses," either for the sake of novelty, or because they wanted a mount and there was no other to be had; but in every instance the trial of skill between the man and the pony was of short duration. For an instant there would be a confused ma.s.s of horse, hat, coat-tails, boots, and man, flying through the air. The horse, on his second upward trip would meet the man coming down on his first; the man would see whole constellations--whole milkyways of stars; the horse would meander off over the prairie free and untrameled, and as we would gather up the deformed and disfigured remains of the pilgrim and dig the alkali dirt out of his mouth, ears, and eyes, he would tell us, as soon as he recovered sufficiently to be able to speak, that in future he "had rather walk than ride."

But, fortunately for the poor cowboys, there are many of these ponies who are not vicious, and let us do full honor to the genuine, n.o.ble cow-horse who is so sure and fleet of foot that he will speedily put his rider within roping distance of the wildest, swiftest, longest-horned Texan on the range. Such a horse always knows when the _riata_ falls right for head or heels, and if it does not will never slacken his speed, but keep right on until his rider can recover and throw again.

But when it does fall fair, he puts it taut, wheels to right or left as directed by a gentle pressure of his rider's knee, takes a turn on it or gives it slack as may be required to down the beef, and, when this is accomplished, stands stiff-legged, firm, and immovable as a rock, holding him down by the strain on the rope, and watching, with eyes bulged out and ears set forward like those of a jack rabbit, every struggle of the captive bullock, and stands pat even when his rider dismounts and leaves him to brand the steer. When this is done, and his rider remounts he is ready to repeat the operation on another animal.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "SNARED."]

I have frequently known a cowboy to rope a wild cow, throw her and milk her while his horse held her down at the other end of a forty foot rope.

Such a horse is worth his weight in gold to a cattleman, and his kind-hearted and appreciative rider would go supperless to bed any night, if necessary, in order that his faithful steed should be well fed and made comfortable in every possible way.

The skill that some of these men attain in the use the lariat is also most marvelous. An expert will catch a steer by the horns, the neck, the right or left fore foot or hind foot, whichever he may choose--and while running at full speed--with almost unerring certainty. I have even seen them rope jack rabbits and coyotes after a long run, and there are well authenticated instances on record of even bears being choked to death by the fatal noose when wielded by a daring "knight of the plains."

At a "tournament" in a Black Hills town some months ago, a cowboy caught, threw, and securely tied a wild steer in fourteen minutes from the time he was let out of the corral. A similar exhibition of skill, but on a bronco instead of a steer, which lately took place in a New Mexico town, is thus described by an eye witness.

"After an hour of discussion and pleasant wrangling, the judge, himself a fine rider, called out the name of an Arizona cowboy, a champion puncher and rustler from Apache County; at the same moment, a wild-eyed bronco was released from the pen and went bounding and bucking over the miniature plain. According to the rule, the Apache County man had to saddle his own bronco, rope the fleeing horse, and tie him for branding in a certain time. Being a "rustler", he rustled around so lively that before the bronco was two hundred feet away, he had saddled and bridled his own animal, swung himself onto it, and was off, gathering up his lariat as he went. The other bronco, seeing the coming enemy, doubled his pace, dodging here and there, but at every turn he was met by his pursuer, who was evidently directed by his rider's legs, and in an incredibly short s.p.a.ce of time the fugitive was overhauled; the rope whistled through the air, and dropped quickly over the bronco's head, notwithstanding the toss he had made. The instant it fell, the pursuing bronco rushed and headed off the other, winding the rope about his legs; then suddenly sitting back upon his haunches he waited, with ears back, for the shock. It came with a rush, and the little horse at the other end of the rope, as was the intention, went headlong onto the field, the cowboy's bronco holding him down by the continual strain that he kept up. The moment the horse went down the cowboy vaulted from the saddle, untying a rope from his waist as he ran, and was soon over the prostrate animal, las.h.i.+ng the hoofs with dextrous fingers, so that it could have been branded then and there. This accomplished, up went his hands as a signal to the judges, who now came galloping over the field, a roar of cheers and yells greeting the Apache County man, who had done the entire work in twelve minutes, thereby securing the prize of sundry dollars."

These men use large, heavy, strongly-built saddles, and by setting the cinch up tight and taking a turn or two of the rope around the saddle horn they will snake a large animal, either dead or alive, any desired distance. I once got one of them to drag a large bear that we had killed out of a thicket into an open s.p.a.ce, so that we could photograph him.

Few men take more chances or endure more hards.h.i.+ps than cowboys. In addition to the dangers they have to contend with from riding vicious horses and from riding into stampeding herds of wild cattle, in both of which lines of duty many of them are crippled and some killed outright, it is frequently necessary for them to lay out on the open prairie for several days and nights together, perhaps in cold, rough weather, with no other food or bedding than they can carry on their saddle.

The slang of the fraternity is highly amusing to a stranger. It is decidedly crisp, racy, and expressive. Words are coined or adopted into their vernacular that will convey their meaning with the greatest possible force and precision. In addition to the few ill.u.s.trations already given in this sketch there are many others that would be utterly unintelligible to an Eastern man unless translated. For instance, when they brand an animal they put the "jimption" to him; when they want a hot drink they say "put some jimption in it"; when they warm up a horse with the spurs or quirt they "fan" him; when they throw lead from a six-shooter or a Winchester after a flying coyote they "fan" him. And "goose hair"--ever sleep on goose hair? This is a favorite term for any kind of a "soft snap." When they want to ridicule a tenderfoot, and especially one who is fond of good living, they say "he wants a goose-hair bed to sleep on"; when a cowboy is in luck he is described as having "a goose-hair pillar," or as "sleepin' with the boss," or as "ridin' ten horses," etc. Altogether, cowboys are a whole-souled, large-hearted, generous cla.s.s of fellows, whom it is a genuine pleasure to ride, eat, and a.s.sociate with, and it is safe to say that nine-tenths of the hard things that have been said of them have come from men who never knew, intimately, a single one of them.

I contend that a year spent on the hurricane deck of a cow-pony is one of the most useful and valuable pieces of experience a young man can possibly have in fitting himself for business of almost any kind, and if I were educating a boy to fight the battles of life, I should secure him such a situation as soon as through with his studies at school. A term of service on a frontier cattle-ranch will take the conceit out of any boy. It will, at the same time, teach him self-reliance; it will teach him to endure hards.h.i.+ps and suffering; it will give him nerve and pluck; it will develop the latent energy in him to a degree that could not be accomplished by any other apprentices.h.i.+p or experience. I know of many of the most substantial and successful business men in the Western towns and cities of to-day who served their first years on the frontier as "cow punchers," and to that school they owe the firmness of character and the ability to surmount great obstacles that have made their success in life possible.

I claim that the constant communion with Nature, the study of her broad, pure domains, the days and nights of lonely cruising and camping on the prairie, the uninterrupted communion with and study of self which this occupation affords, tends to make young men honest and n.o.ble--much more so than the same men would be if deprived of these opportunities, confined to the limits of our boasted "civilization," and compelled to constantly breathe the air of adroitness, of strategy, of compet.i.tion, of suspicion and crime. I claim that in many instances a man who is already dishonest and immoral may be, and I know that many have been made good and honest by freeing themselves from the evil influences of city life, and betaking themselves to a life on the plains; by living alone, or nearly so, and habitually communing with themselves, with Nature, and with Nature's G.o.d. If every young man raised in town or city could have the advantages of a year or two of constant study of Nature, untrammeled by any air of vice, and at the proper time in life, we should have more honest men, and fewer defaulters, thieves, and criminals of every cla.s.s.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A BEEF-GATHERING SOIREE.]

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

A MONTANA ROUNDUP.

Descriptions of cattle roundups in the far West have been written, and yet many of the characteristic scenes that the spectator at one of these semi-annual "beef-gathering parties" will observe have not been described. There is so much to interest and excite the denizen of the States who first attends a roundup on the great plains that I am tempted to speak of some of the more prominent points in this "greatest show on earth," for the benefit of such as have not had the pleasure of witnessing it.

The interests of cattlemen in general are so closely linked, and there is such urgent need of a concert of action among them, that in all Western cattle-growing districts they have organized into local or general a.s.sociations, in which the most perfect harmony and good fellows.h.i.+p exists, and in which the interests of every individual member are closely guarded and fostered by the organization as a whole. These a.s.sociations meet in the spring and fall of each year and fix the dates for holding the roundups, usually prescribing the general boundaries in which each local outfit shall work. The spring roundup, which is the one now under consideration, is held in the latter part of April or early part of May in Wyoming and Montana, and earlier or later in other States and Territories, according to the nature of the climate, weather, etc. A roundup district is usually limited to the valley of some large stream, or its boundaries are designated by other prominent and well-known landmarks.

From five to fifteen miles, or even more, each way from the ranch, are claimed by each owner or company as a range, though no effort is made usually to keep the stock within these boundaries. They are allowed the freedom of the hills and table-lands in every direction, the foreman merely being required to know about where to find them when wanted, and to prevent them from going, for instance, west of the Tongue and north of the Yellowstone rivers or south into Wyoming.

As a typical spring roundup, let us observe the one recently conducted on the Powder river in Montana, for it furnished, perhaps, as many interesting episodes and incidents as are usually seen at one of these entertainments. This stream rises in the Big Horn Mountains in Northern Wyoming and flows northeast through Southern Montana to the Yellowstone, into which it empties its wealth of crystal fluid just east of Miles City. Up to a few years ago its valley and adjacent table-lands were peopled only by roving bands of Sioux, Cheyenne, Pegan, or Crow Indians, while vast herds of buffaloes and antelopes grazed upon its nutritious gra.s.ses. The lordly elk and the timid, agile deer roamed at will through the groves of cottonwood and box-elder that fringe its banks, and the howl of the coyote made night musical to the ear of the savage in his wigwam. But how changed the scene of to-day! An iron railroad bridge, that of the great Northern Pacific, spans the stream near its mouth, over which roll trains of palace coaches at short intervals, while commercial freights _en route_ from the Atlantic to the Pacific, or _vice versa_, pa.s.s over it almost every hour. From the mouth of the stream to the foot-hills of the mountain range, amid whose snow-capped peaks it rises, is now a well-beaten road over which supplies for the various ranches in the valley are carried, and over which the gallant knights of the plains--the cowboys--dash to and fro in the performance of their various duties.

At intervals of ten to fifteen miles along the valley, the traveler pa.s.ses ranches, the headquarters of the wealthy cattlemen whose herds roam all over the valleys, the hills, and table-lands for many miles in every direction, designating the companies or individual owners merely by the brands their herds bear (which is the custom of the country). We shall encounter on our way the "MC" outfit, whose herd numbers fourteen thousand head; the "WL" brand, six thousand head; "7OL," one thousand head; "S-I," twenty-five thousand head; "_N_," twenty-five thousand head; "[3-rail]," five thousand head; and many other smaller and some larger herds. The buildings and improvements consist generally of substantial, roomy log houses, stables for the horses, corrals or strong yards in which large herds of cattle may be confined for branding, etc.