pages 296-297

Pages 296-297

                We had not far to go until we heard Jackie bray.  And Jim said, “we are coming to the right place or else he has a mule, too.”  And then another bray.  When we drove up to the man’s corral, there they were looking no worse for their exploits.  Two dogs came bounding and barking at us from around the corner of the house, as the man came out and over to where we were, saying, “Them be your critters?”

                “They sure are,” Jim said, getting out of the buggy.  Jackie seemed anxious to get out of the gate, as Jim snapped a halter chain on his halter, and then Babe leading them out, tying one on each side of the team we were driving.

                The man said, “The fee will only be three dollars,  I kinder figured they came from over in your way from the direction they came from when I seen them,  they seemed to want in the corral, so I put them in, and then told a fellow that was going over in your part of the country.”

                Well, thanks,” Jim said, “thanks a lot,” paying him the three dollars and we turned to go, for the day was fast slipping and we didn’t want to be dark getting home.  Jim said later, “I guess we should have stayed and visited awhile with him.”

                “He seemed a bit odd,” I said, “and if he had a wife, she didn’t show herself.”

                “ I think maybe he’s an old bachelor.”  Jim replied, “for I’ve heard of him, “ he went on, and urging the horses into a trot, it was a bit hard going over a narrow road with an extra on each side.  It became cooler as the day wore on.  The mountain slopes we had left behind seemed to have been bathed in an unexplainable ghostly mystery, I thought, taking one last look back, while the horses kept to a steady pace, and too the little old cabin, that had baffled me with its hidden long ago mystical air, and yet it was an inestimable privilege to live in a country so close to nature one may enjoy at will, and with skies of lovely peaceful blue, lazy clouds floated above us, now over halfway across this wide arid valley.

                Our home mountains loomed on the horizon, It began to look good to us as well as the horses, once Jackie tried to bray, showing his dislike of the whole tiresome affair.  Jim prodded him saying, “It’s your own fault.  You’ll learn to run away from home.”

                A hawk sailed overhead, making a shrill penetrating cry, the bird cry of the hawk.  Some distance on and nearing our own ranch, a coyote took off through the brush being scared off of what he was stalking then another unbelievable sight, a cowboy reining his horse in, just as Jim brought ours to a halt.

                “I see you got them,” he said,, leaning on his elbow on the saddle horn with hand under chin.  “I’ve been hunting strays, did you happen on to any?”

                “Yes,” Jim replied, “but I wouldn’t say they were strays, They seemed properly branded,”  With that he rode off and we drove on thinking deep.  Jim said, “You know I can’t recall that fellow and I don’t believe I’ve ever seen him.”

                “Well, just how did he know we had gone to get Jackie and Babe?  You couldn’t prove it by me, but perhaps he was part of the grapevine.  Why, and where we found where they were. Well, you remember the fellow that told you, said another fellow told him he heard through another fellow that a fellow over on Coe Creek clear across the valley west on a ranch on a mountainside, had a mare and a mule in his corral.”

                Well, you’ve got that down pat.”  Jim said, “That is just the way he said it, and you know that fellow knew just what he was talking about for we have the proof right now.

                Stopping to open the gate, Jackie sounded off with his triumphant bray and letting the two loose inside the gate, they took off like mad to meet the other horses coming from the top of the bench on a dead gallop.  Looking as though they would land on their heads coming down an almost perpendicular hillside into the canyon, and across Shirley Creek.  Before we could hardly think, they were all together, now whinnying, rubbing noses and talking to each other in the most welcoming horse language, as if trying to say “Just where did you go>”  By that time, Jim had turned the team loose.  With one mad dash the whole bunch fled, back up the hill, gone from sight, kicking, squealing in horse like fashion.  Jim then turned to me saying “You know what?”

                “Yes,” I replied, “all you have is shanks horses to round them up with in the morning.”

                 “How did you guess it?” Jim asked.

                “Well, “ I replied, “if there’s a horse tied to that hitch rack, he must certainly be invisible,”

                Jim walked over saying “Whoa,” acting like he was brushing the make believe horse, then said, “I know what I’ll do, I’ll not feed tonight , and by morning they’ll be hungry and glad to come.”

                I laughed, saying “ I hope your plans work out,” and went to feed the chickens, while Jim picked up an armful of sage wood to build the fire in the range.