pages 264-265

Pages 264-265

                It had been a wonderful day I told Jim when we finally sat down for our evening repast and to give thanks for our blessings.  “Yes, another,”  I softly replied when we raised our heads to add to our list of memories for years to come, blessings we little dreamed could be ours in a lonely land so far from much habitation.  Yet no one found friends kinder or better for we always found time for the pleasant things of life, such as visiting, partaking of a meal and the exchange of good books, little acts of kindness, our neighbors close, a forty, eighty or a hundred and sixty acres, and sometimes three hundred and twenty and then on into miles.  It mattered little after they arrived or we at their place.

                It was as though we had always known each other with a slap on the back and a “how-do-you-do?”  So glad you came, just sit yourself right down, the missus will scare up a bite shortly.  There was no need to say you only stopped for an hour or two.  To decline a meal with them for you had come calling and were their guests for the day.  Many a good meal we had eaten in that way, returning home at evening as we had from our folks, light of heart and with things to talk about for the next few days.

                So Jim thought if the next day was nice we’d go for another load of hay.  I said I’d go along but I knew mother wouldn’t approve.

                We went to sleep, awaking to Jackie braying, calling for his breakfast around five.  There too was the catcalling of a magpie from the sounds of it he must have been on the post by the kitchen door.  Then other birds began to call as Jim went out to feed and harness up.

                My chores too had to be done, and I knew I’d have to step on it, Jim would want to get going, but as luck would have it, I was there with my bucket of lunch ready to climb aboard as always.

                The sage had begun to get a little more silver I it, but the desert grass was still brown and sere.  That did not prevent our feathered friends though from trying to give out with a cheery note, then take to flight as we drove by.

                Soon we passed the post office and then over Warm Creek, that in winter the cattle would stand in it because it felt warm to their feet.  On we went along Sublett Creek, almost to where we had bought Jackie and Nig.  Turning in a lane, Jim got down to open a big panel gate while I drove through and here we were at the stack pulling alongside, Jim had just begun to load as the owner came out with a mother shepherd dog and several partly grown pups.

                I thought maybe we’d get a puppy. But he said if we had come yesterday we could have had this one, pointing to a pretty brown one with a white neck, but he said a fellow was coming that afternoon for it and he wanted to keep the other two because the mother was a heeler.  That meant in cattleman’s language that the dog would go to the heels where he should instead of to the head of the animal in chasing cattle or horses.

                The man helped Jim to load the hay while I played with the half grown puppies.  They were so friendly and affectionate, enjoying my attention so much so that when the man brought over a ladder for me to get on the load of hay, they tagged after me whimpering as though losing a friend.  The ladder was much better than the way I had gotten up first on the double tree.  The edge of the wagon and then the standard.  A ladder like piece the reins fastened to.  This prevented the hay from sliding down on the horses.

                After we pulled away from the big stack, Jim threw me a rope this went over the hay and down behind the wagon where Jim fastened it to the bolster or axle to prevent our load from slipping.

                But my eyes were still on the puppies.  Oh, if I could have one to fondle and feed until Jim brought my attention to the huge boom pole , which at one time had been a magnificent pine tree standing straight and tall among other trees of its kind.  They were called lodgepole pines.  It could be swung at different angles to pick up the hay from wagons or hay boats during the harvesting of hay in summer and deposit it on the newly started or the finishing of a stack.

                These stacks were usually vey large or huge consisting of a good many tons.  A horse was hitched to the pulley on the derrick.  He was called the derrick horse.  Most generally the rancher’s small son or daughter rode the derrick horse.  When the slings were fastened to the hay on the wagon, they would call out, “up she comes,” and a horse used a number of summers for this, need no more telling, immediately he leaned into the collar pulling, digging his front hoofs in and up it would go until poised in midair over the stack for a second or two until the stacker man placed it where he wanted it and pulled the trip and again the horse kmew what was expected of him.  As the slings went down, he then backed up until the slings were fastened again and up again it went throughout the harvest with hay stacks dotted here and there on the different ranches throughout the valley.  

                Once again my gaze drifted toward the house as we pulled out.  I was rewarded with the sight of the brown and white puppy.  I had a feeling could he have had his choice of masters, he would have preferred us.

                It was past noon when we got on the road and the team settled Into a jog.  Having eaten breakfast early Jim and I were famished, so I had Jim to hand me the bucket from the standard up front where I had hung it and had him pry the lid open with his pocket knife, passing it to me.  I took out two sandwiches, when they were consumed, two more until our hunger was almost satisfied, then on the doughnuts, I had made fresh the day before.