ATY pages 167-168

Pages 167-168

                So the next morning’s plans were carried out.  Jim came at noon.  Father and brother didn’t go back to work that morning.  They were going to wait a day or two for more material.  Father would work gathering some of the fall garden vegetables.  I got busy cleaning up the breakfast things.  Earlier I had set yeast and made dough for bread while my sister cleaned the upstairs rooms.  Then we both worked together cleaning the rooms downstairs.  I had already cleaned up the dishes, swept, and mopped the kitchen.  When we finished the cleaning I made a wild gooseberry pie for dinner.  (They have the most wonderful flavor.  They taste even better than the tame ones.)

                Later, about ten thirty I made the dough into rolls and loaves to raise.  About that time father came to the house in a hurry for his gun.  I supposed he was after a coyote or chicken hawk.  It wasn’t long until I heard the gun shoot twice.  He came back with two fat cotton tail rabbits, holding them up and said,  “Now they won’t eat my carrot tops any more.”  Then he went down by Shirley Creek where he dressed them ready to fry.  I cut them up and put them in a pan of water with a little salt to soak awhile before frying them for dinner. 

                Mother heard the shots and came to see what was happening.  Toby heard the shots also and was barking and pulling on his leash.  When mother came in I showed her the two cottontails,  only they had lost all resemblance to a rabbit.  They were in the form of meat now.  Seeing them she said, “Annie, they’ll really be nice fried.”  Then she went back to bring her turkeys closer to the house where Toby could give a warning if the turkeys made a noise like something was bothering them.

                Then mother went to the garden to help father carry the tomato vines to hang in the cellar with the green ones intact.  The nights in this high elevation were pretty cool and the frost a bit heavier each morning.  Higher up ice had formed some around Shirley Creek.

                About twelve noon Jim came and I was baking the last of the bread, opening the oven to see how it was baking, just as he came in the door and there they were big plump golden brown loaves, almost ready to be removed and wrapped in paper and then a cloth.  “My,” he said, “doesn’t that make me hungry?” and spying the golden brown fried rabbit said, “and this too?” He said "somebody must have gone hunting."  He looked towards the cupboard and said,  “and that too?” pointing to the pie.  Then he grabbed me in his arms and kissed me, “Do you know the way to a man’s heart and how?”  He squeezed me even tighter.  Then he went out to water and feed the horses and saddle them for our hunt for the colt.

I had told him to saddle one for me too for I wasn’t going to miss that trip for this might be our last horseback ride over the hills this fall and winter. After my sister had finished her work, she peeled and put on potatoes to cook.  They now were ready to be drained and mashed which she did and then sliced a bowl of nice red tomatoes while I set the table.

                Then we called father and mother from the garden.  So everyone cleaned up and we sat down.  Jim returned thanks and we started passing the food.  All seemed to enjoy it and was plenty full.

                When a knock came on the door.  A man had ridden up on horseback.  Mother opened the door and invited him in the living room.  Father spoke to him then they both sat down and began to talk.  I listened some while my sister and I cleared away the table.  I heard him say he had sold a bunch of cattle and wanted father to draw up plans and specifications to build a ranch home for him and his family.  He said he had heard that others he had built for were more than pleased with his work.  “Well that’s nice, “ I heard my father say, “but my son does the architect part, that is the designing, planning and drawing up the plans by which you want the house built.”

                About that time the grandchildren came down and father told them to go tell their daddy that grandpa wanted him.  All full of curiosity and fun, took off in no time.

                As Jim and I were riding away I could see them and their daddy going in the door.  They came back out and went running home.  I laughed and said to Jim, “There they go back.”  He laughed too and said, “I guess they were too noisy.”

                We rode on down to a secluded spot where we would be out of sight of the range horses and waited where we could see them when  they started down.  Jim placed the field glasses to his eyes and scanned the descent.  They had come over each day to drink from Shirley Creek.  After waiting for some little time Jim said, “We’ll not wait any longer.  Let’s start riding.  We’ll ride up over this hill.  We might contact them coming down.”  We rode on but saw nothing of them, over one hill after another.  Finally we went to the high peaks and scanned the valleys below.  Jim said, “Since they didn’t come to drink at Shirley Creek, they must be grazing close to another watering hole,  probably over in Heglar.”  Up one canyon and then another we went.  Finally finding one with a grove of chokecherry trees still loaded with fruit.  The frost had wilted them a bit but that made them all the sweeter so we sat in our saddles eating for some time the delicious fruit nature had caused to grow wild in this canyon.  We saw no water but water was there under the ground close by or these trees wouldn’t be there.

                Jim said, “We’d better ride on.”  He consulted his watch then said,  “It’s later than you think.”  We rode on going almost straight up now.  The horses noticed it more and more as we neared the top.  We stopped them ever so often to get their wind.  On their last stop we had reached the summit.  There wasn’t much of a top to i.  About room for the two horses.

                Starting down the other side was about as steep as we came up and just as hard on the horses.  We paused for a moment on a small ledge just below the summit.  Here Jim used the field glasses.  We could see the old crooked Snake River.  He then looked toward Minidoka and handed the glasses to me saying look.  “Oh,” I said, “Did you see what I see? A train coming from Minidoka to Rupert.”  Yes, that’s why I wanted you to look.”  We then looked toward American Falls.  There were green fall wheat fields, one after another for miles and miles, as well as the wheat fields around Sublett, Heglar and our home in the valley.