pages 140-141

Page 140-141

                For Jim and Father and brother had worked on our house all day and in the way they were talking I could see they had accomplished a lot.

                The fog of the morning cleared away.  The sun shone brightly for some time before sinking behind the western horizon, leaving a clear sky as it disappeared.  And thus ended that day, but much had been done in the way of getting our home built.

                Father and brother spent many days and much time working on it.  When some weeks later, it was finished all but the cupboards and closets, Jim and I went often admiring and looking it over.  As they worked on it,  we had big plans for furnishing it, but figured for now, something not too expensive would do, until we could get some wheat crops.

                Jim had a man that lived close to our place grubbing out, clearing and burning the piles of sagebrush, Then Jim too would plow it out, pile and burn the brush.  The land was rich, especially the bench lands.  The sage grew heavy and thick there.  Some were as large as small trees and over six feet tall.  This had to be gotten off before there could be a wheat crop.  Jim used railroad rails on our three hundred and sixty acres to clear the sagebrush.  He dragged the flat rail with the sharp edge down, using for head of horses,  two on each end.  He and another fellow worked together on this but it took some time even that way.  A hay rake was used to rake it in windrows to burn.  The best time to do this was in the spring before the frost went out of the ground.  The sage seemed brittle and broke off easier.

                I have gotten ahead of my story for it took several years before all of this was done and since our home was that near completed, Jim and I made a list of the furniture we needed so that he could get some it the next time he went to Rupert.

                The Fourth of July was only a few days away.  They were having a rodeo at Malta.  Since we had never seen one, Jim, my sister , and I went to it.  It was a nice trip.  The day was not too hot.  So we enjoyed it.  There was mostly bronco or wild horse busting or bucking.  The man that stayed on the longest won a prize.  There was calf roping, bull riding and all the things that go with rodeos.  There were stands where you could buy things to eat. 

                Sometimes the cowboys got hurt seriously at the rodeo.  There was a fellow the people took up a purse to get him to ride a very furious or mean horse.  The horse bucked twice, then went completely over backwards, cutting the fellow in two with the saddle horn.  He never lived to tell what happened, but the crowd saw it all.  He was such a nice young boy.  We knew him.   He had been to our house several times with the round-up boys.

                We came back by our ranch as we went home.  We went in the large downstairs front room, kitchen and bedroom.. Then we went upstairs.  The two bedrooms were large and roomy.  We all thought it a nice home.

                Jim had been plowing the ground he had cleared.  He would seed it in August in fall wheat.  We drove up on the bench land and looked it over.  He showed us where he’d have to set more post.

                When we arrived home, evening shadows were already falling around the mountain peaks.  Shirley creek was gushing along over its sandy rocky bed, making as much noise as ever, but music to one’s ears.  Birds in the wild cherry orchard along the creek, were chirping an evening lullaby.  An od magpie was screeching Maggie in an irritating voice.  The meadow larks sang their sweetest.  Jim liked to imitate them.  The frogs seemed to sense it was time to say.  “Me-daddy and knee deep.” (That’s what I was told they say.)

                Mother came out to greet us, asking how we had enjoyed the day.  “Fine” we said, “but this is the nicest place ever.  It’s home, how wonderful, and where would you find it prettier or nicer.”

                We seemed to like it better each day.  It was calm and quiet, a lovely place amid the surrounding hills to dream one’s dream of whatever he wished.

                That evening after a delicious fried chicken supper, was one to remember.  My brother, sister-in-law and three children came down also.  The little baby was doing nicely.  My mother held him most of the time.  He cooed and seemed to think his grandma’s soft lap was just the place to be.  My sister-in-law sang such pretty alto.  It mixed or blended well with other voices.  We had a song fest.  It must have sounded pretty good or else pretty bad for our old black and white dog, Toby, lying outside the door thought he’d join in too by throwing his head back howling his loudest.  This seemed to attract a coyote off on a near-by hill for he too answered back.  This kept up for some little time.  I don’t know which sounded the worst.  The dog or the coyote.  I went out and brought Toby in the house.  That was where he wanted to be anyway.  He soon went to sleep.  No matter how much we sang, father sat reading his paper. The news was sometimes a little old because we didn’t get the mail often.

                It was late when my brother and family walked back over the uphill path to their home.  Little Mary and Harry ran on ahead enjoying all of it.

                Jim and I went outside where we stood for awhile gazing at the stars and listening to the call of a night bird down the canyon.  As we stood there a form seemed to be moving down by the corral where Jim had his cows.  We moved in that direction quickly, but it moved faster, disappearing into the shadows and as we turned to go back to the house the weird cry of the coyote came back to us.  He was evidently sneaking around trying to find our dog, Toby, for he too had been answering back and forth earlier in the evening.