pages 280-281

Pages 280-281

                She soon had us seated.  It was a good dinner for she was a wonderful cook, but my mind was more on getting the hens set and I thought Jim would never stop talking, so we could get going.  The lady very kindly talked on, too, telling me just how to fix their nest and to have a little door, so the others couldn’t get in to lay with them or break the setting eggs.  I had learned that from my mother, though.  I was in the notion of saying  “Get up” to Beauty, or to give Jim a slight poke, but we were soon off, saying “Goodbye,” out of the lane and headed for home.

                We had been having a south wind for several days, but for some reason, it had switched around to the north and we would have to face it all the way home.  It seemed to get chillier as we drove along, tucking the lap robe in closer and pulling my coat around my neck I began to wonder if I was doing the right thing after all.

                Then, Jim said, “This feels like snow and here you are wanting to set hens.” It does seem a bit cold, ‘ I said. “but mother and those folks have some setting, why not?” To this, Jim slapped the lines on Beauty and we were heading for home much faster until we came to the winding rough sage brush road.

                “Slow down, “ I said.  “These eggs won’t hatch, they are getting shook up too much.”

                Then slowing down, slyly, Jim said, “you’d better be thinking about yourself, for I was thinking of you while I held Beauty in,” giving me a big smile.

                “I had forgotten about myself for the time being,” I replied.  “These eggs seemed more important.”

                At last, we were home, Jackie, as usual, brayed and came on a gallop to the gate, just to welcome us, then trotted behind the buggy to the rack.  I carefully carried the two settings of eggs to the house. Before Jim could get Beauty unhitched, with saw, hammer and nails, I was hunting around for small boards to make those doors.  Finding them, down by the chicken house where I went, Jim was following.

                “Now,” he said, “that’s a man’s job,” gladly turning it over to him, I went with a box in search of straw.  This accomplished, I fixed the two warmest nests.  Jim had the two doors on and we went back to the house to wait until night fell, then taking the lantern, and eggs walked slowly to the chicken house.  Jim held the lantern high, opening the nest doors, I put fifteen eggs in each carefully, then lifted the hens and placed them in the new nests.  They seemed happy, clucking, ruffling their feathers and with their bills gathered the eggs closely under them.  All was well, I thought, feeling quite pleased over our day’s work, and thinking in three weeks we would have some fluffy little chicks.  My next plans were to fix a place for the hens and chicks when the time rolled around, But we did not notice a furry like object a short ways away out of the rays of the light, until it lunged at me, almost grabbing my dress.  Jim jumped between us nearly hitting it with the swinging lantern, when it turned, fleeing down into the canyon and perhaps up the hill to the bench.  “He must have been really hungry,” Jim said, “for they seldom attack that way, they usually sneak around, getting their prey unawares, and most generally a small creature, rabbits, squirrels, new born calves, and colts, but will attack people, if cornered, or have rabies.”  To attack that way, Jim thought he might be sick with rabies.  As the days went by we heard no more about it, even though we had informed the different neighbors, until we heard a fellow down in the flats had shot what he thought was  rabid coyote.  It came in the yard snapping at his children.  He said it was a little early for that, but had every appearance of it.

                Now with the big bench cleared of the brush, Jim pulled his gang plow up to the west side, with two horses and lead the other horses up behind and then hitched on the six head.  Now this I had to see, the first furrow to be turned down through the long bench from West to East and little Jackie was one of them.  Jim had seen to it that he had a snug fitting pad and collar and had put him on the outside,  where it would be easier.  I was thrilled beyond words as I saw the horses and little Jackie, leaning into the collar,  was keeping his tugs tight, right along with the rest.  This being the first day of it, Jim only plowed for about six hours, three in the morning and three in the afternoon.  We were proud of that day, the horses plenty tired and ready to get out of harness, and as each was free, rolled to his own satisfaction and when it came Jackie’s turn, he looked all around, smelled the ground a time or two, then layed down to do his usual three times over.

                “He’s pretty particular,”  Jim said as we watched his antic, then currying the dust from his sweaty hair, Jim gave him a pat, saying, “You did alright, Jackie, looks like it was a little tough on those shoulders though, but they’ll get used to it, old boy.”  He shoved him away, saying “Go get your hay,”  I then feed the chickens, letting the two setting hens out to feed with the others, watching until they returned to their nest to fasten them in.  I was pleased that they hadn’t as yet broken any of their eggs,  It was almost a week now since we had set them and only three weeks for them to hatch.

                We had not been up to my folks for some time and I was getting a bit homesick, so since Beauty was hitched to the buggy, we took off.  It was a cool, but pleasant evening as we drove along, a quiet stillness reigned in the canyon and Shirley Creek running faster and fuller , gurgling and gushing along was music to our ears,.  The birds perched on the bushes above it tweeted and sang, then flitted away.  Father’s wheat was greening up nicely.  We could see the edge of it from the top of the hill and father also had been plowing in his garden. Toby, hearing the buggy, came tearing down the lane to meet us, wagging the white tip of his tail steadily as he bounded toward us, jumping at Beauty’s bridle bit, then at the buggy, and just as excited as though he wanted to tell the folks we were coming, took off like wings were attached to his feet.  The folks were out the door by now, looking for themselves.  The yard was full of mother’s geese, but Toby had no fear of them and they , instead of trying to fight him, scattered in all directions.  Making that gang, gang and honking noise.  We could smell mother’s good supper cooking and she said , as we went in, “It’s almost ready, we’ll just set some extra plates.