pages 236-239

Pages 236- 239

We were nearing their place when a coyote dashed into the brush with something from what we could see of him.  When we arrived the folks were outside looking somewhat excited.  A coyote had just grabbed one of their chickens and dashed off with it.  We told them we saw one and thought it had a bird or chicken in its mouth.  “that was him.” The man said.

                They seemed very glad to see us.  They had me to come right in.  Jim and the man hitched up to start at the railing some distance below the house.  Soon we could see the four head going back and forth from a window.  The hoses seemed to be pulling the heavy rail right along with little stopping except to rest a bit when they made the turns.  While two teams would rail the other team would rake it into long windrows for burning.  Already somewhat dry in the flats the sage would burn easily.

                The lady seated me in her best rocker, taking my coat and scarf and hung them up.  They had put some deer meat down in a brine or salt during the early part of winter.  She had soaked a roast overnight to remove some of the salt and had it roasting a little like corned beef in the early days.  It certainly had a tantalizing aroma I told her.

                Finding she would have company for dinner she set about to make a bread pudding with dried bread crumbs, milk, eggs, sugar, butter, nutmeg and cinnamon mixed together and baked until nicely brown.

                She had to add sagewood to the stove every so often for that was their fuel the same as I and most of the homesteaders used.  It was cheap, handy and easily gotten.  Then she said, “Now you act just like you were home.  Feel free to walk around,” and said, “there’s a bed you can lie down on.” For the living room and the bedroom were all the same.

                There was only two good large rooms to the house, but there was quite a bit of space, very neat and comfortable for all they were there for a purpose to get a hundred and sixty acres of ground and farm from it to make an honest living like the dozens and dozens of others who had built small homes on their claims over this great valley.  One only had to look from the window to see some of these homes dotted here and there.  In them were poor but honest good hearted folks like the home I was company in today.  They wanted to make me comfortable, doing their best to put before us food we would like and enjoy. 

                Some hours later when the men drove in for dinner it was ready.  Food that was fit for anybody.  They asked Jim to return thanks.  It was very befitting the occasion.  Everyone seemed happy and thankful with hopes for what was ahead.  They seemed to be living for the future as all of us were.  Folks that were. “The Salt of the Earth.”

                After the meal was over, she did not let me help.  She said. “No, you must rest awhile,” knowing my condition said, “you have plenty of work at home.  I remember I did enjoy getting off my feet.”  But I wasn’t tired.  Just to please though I laid down for awhile.

                Later she rested on a couch while the men folks went back to their railing.  Then we sat visiting until toward evening when the men came back in again with some pretty tired horses.  I got ready , bidding the folks good bye and thanking them for the good dinner. 

                We were off winding our way back over the sagebrush road leading to our own home.  There was no smoke curling from the chimney.  The fires were out and the house would be cold.  Going in my first thought was to get the house warm.  That I did.  Jim took care of the stock and chores.

                We were in for the night shutting the door to this quiet, friendly but lonely valley.  We lit the lamps, then fixed a bite to eat.  Jim read an interesting , exciting story that kept us awake and enthralled with interest for hour after hour until we realized it was later than we thought.  We then retired for the night.

                And up early the next A.M. for Jim thought he would do more raking and burning of the sage.  It was slow, hard work.  The old timers claim the sage came in when the land was overgrazed and being a hearty brush it withstood the dry years.  That wasn’t helpful to the grass and now too we noticed the rabbits had become thicker and  more plentiful in our own valley.  The tracks were multiplying.  The long eared bunnys or jackrabbit, seemed to forage mostly at night and hide away by day.  Jim reported even seeing big snow shoe rabbits up on our bench.  They are the kind that turn white in winter and can hardly be detected from the snow.  Those kind though were seldom seen in this part of the country.  The ordinary  jackrabbit was enough.  He could destroy plenty in his own way.  And too they multiply faster than most animals.  That’s one of the ways our coyote friend does his bit.  He’s death on those big bunnies.  Some sheep-men say they prefer the coyote to the rabbits and squirrels.

                Thus the days passed and when not too busy visited with the different neighbors.  A day or so later went visiting down on Sublett Creek to see a fellow who hade a horse ranch.  Jim was looking around for another horse to make up his gang plow horses.  We did not know the folks so I fixed a lunch of some sandwiches, doughnuts and two quarts of milk.  It was quite a drive going up the creek in the brisk air, but a pretty trip.  Farms to the right of us and sloping hills to the left.  In some of the valleys where it was warm enough and the snow gone a faint tinge of green could be seen.  The bare wheat fields also had a dark greenish look at the base with the top leaves a brownish yellow.

We met several horseback riders going into Sublett, perhaps for groceries or mail.  We did not drive fast, just took in the countryside as we went, waving and speaking to the cowboys that passed by.

                People were more thickly settled along this creek as they were along most creeks in a dry country.  These creeks were used for irrigating gardens, orchards and hay fields.  Farther up in the hills they had what they called the Sublett Dam and did most of their irrigating from that.  Some of these folks had migrated to this country in an early day seeking a home and place to raise their families, have a garden and etc.  Quite a few of them still lived in log homes that were comfortable and nicely fixed inside.  Other had prospered enough to have fairly nice homes with good barns.  Stock was mainly what they seemed to want so as to take advantage of the free range.  Horses too were quite valuable and much in demand those days. That  was before the invention of the tractor.  All farming then was being done with horses and a good horse sold quite high.  Jim was looking for a medium all purpose horse to mix in with what he had.

                We were not too far from the place now.  It was sheltered right up against a mountain like hill, covered with fir, pine and various trees.  It was a very pretty place, corrals and with a small, but nice home and barn.  An old bachelor owned it.  But he had a family living in the house and running the place for him.  He too stayed there quite a bit of the time.

                Pulling off the road into a sunny like nook, here we ate our dinner. Sitting in the buggy while the little ground squirrel rushed  cheeping back and forth up the gravily rocky hillside while I threw crumbs to them, but evidently were too scared to pick them up.  Here too I noticed a big ant hill not too faraway and figured they would pack them down into their holes.  Some distance up the hill we noticed a porcupine moving slowly mining his own business so we minded ours and drove away leaving the squirrels and ants to tend to their own affairs.

                Beauty and Babe trotted toward the ranch.  A big dog and a second one came bounding and barking at us as we drove into the lane of the closely protected mountain place.  There were flower bushes here and there that would leaf out and blossom when spring came.  Farther on was a spring of sparkling cool clear mountain water.

                 We tied up the team and walked over to the corral where a number of horses were by that time.  The owner came out and over where we were.  The three of us stood staring at the animals, wondering which one to decide on and when we had just about picked out a pretty black with a star on his forehead, the cutes little brownish black mule stuck his head from around the bunch of horses and let out a loud bray winding up with a he ha.  Then he gave us the once over.  The owner said he’s somewhat of a character kicking up his heels dashed around the opposite side of the corral.  Jim says, “What’ll you take for him?”  “Oh, I don’t know, “ he replied,  “he’s a mighty good saddler and very easy to ride and the most surefooted animal on the place.”  “Well, what?” Jim asked.  “Well, I hadn’t thought too much about selling him but I guess I will.”  He answered as though thinking.  “Raised him from a colt,”  he continued, then he told the price.  Jim said, “I’ll take both the black and the mule.”

                The little mule was easily caught, but the black had been whip broke.  The owner picked up a halter and a drover’s whip.  Upon entering the corral he held up the halter in one hand, then kept popping the heavy whip with the other.  That horse stood his ground, staring at the halter then reared on his hind legs twice, and whinnied, then walked up and stuck his head in the halter as quiet and nice as you please and led from the corral in the same manner.

                I got Jim to one side and said, “Maybe you don’t want that horse if you have to go through all of those maneuvers each time you want to catch him.”  “Oh, just don’t worry.  I’ll handle him,” Jim said.

                After paying the man, Jim tied the little mule, we named Jackie up beside Beauty and the black, we immediately named Nig, beside Babe, fastening it through the harness ring of the hame.  Then snapping it into the halter. This made them pretty secure.  We knew we had them where if they were tied behind they might break loose then back to their owner.  This was the safest also for an unbroken horse or colt.

                We trotted right along with the four abreast.  I fell in love with Hackie right on the start.  He was chubby like, more like a dwarf or a medium sized mule, his legs were quite fuzzy and somewhat big for his size.  When we got home I was dying to get a saddle and bridle on him for his owner said he was quiet and a very easy rider.  I couldn’t help but pet and put my arms around his neck, which he seemed to like.  It was a s though we were meant to have some good times together while he did the hill climbing with me doing the riding..

                As for the black, Nig, he was very pretty, but I thought a bit  uncertain.  Jim turned him in the corral to get him acquainted with the other horses and to get the horse to learn he was his Master.  He tried the whip and halter method, but Nig  did not respond.  In fact it took three tries before he put his head in the halter and after that he’d come each time, but if slightly indifferent would rear several times on his hind legs and come a Jim, striking with his front feet, but as soon as Jim would pop the whip he’s come down to earth and stick his head in the halter.  Jim said, “He’s not bad, I’ve got him coming my way.”

                While he continued his training I went into the house and built up a fire in both stoves, then proceeded to prepare our evening meal.  The lunch we had eaten on the warm sunny hillside had long