Part 60 (2/2)

ONCE THEY GOT WEST, beyond the line of the gra.s.shopper plague, the herd found good gra.s.s, the skies stayed clear for nearly two weeks, and the drive went the smoothest it had gone. The cattle settled down and moved north toward the Arkansas without stampedes or other incidents, except for one-a freak accident that cost Newt his favorite horse, Mouse.

Newt wasn't even riding Mouse when the accident occurred. He had traded mounts for the day with Ben Rainey. The day's work was over and Ben had ridden into the herd with Call's permission to cut out a beef for the cook. He rode up to a little bridled cow, meaning to take her yearling calf, and while he was easing the calf away from her the cow turned mean suddenly and hooked Mouse right back of the girth. She was a small cow with unusually sharp horns, and her thrust was so violent that Mouse's hindquarters were lifted off the ground. Ben Rainey was thrown, and had to scramble to keep from being hooked himself. Soupy Jones saw it happen. He loped in and soon turned the mad cow, but the damage was done. Mouse was spurting blood like a fountain from his abdomen.

”Get Deets,” Soupy said. Deets was the best horse doctor in the outfit, though Po Campo was also good. Both men came over to look at the wound and both shook their heads. Newt, on the other side of the herd, saw people waving at him, and loped over. When he saw Mouse gus.h.i.+ng blood he felt faint, from the shock.

”I don't know what went wrong with her,” Ben Rainey said, feeling guilty. ”I wasn't doin' nothing to her. She just hooked the horse. Next thing I knew she was after me. She has them little sharp twisty horns.”

Mouse's hind legs were quivering.

”Well, you better put him down,” Call said, looking at Newt. ”He's finished.”

Newt was about to take the reins when Dish Boggett intervened. ”Oh, now, Captain,” he said quietly, ”a feller oughtn't to have to shoot his own horse when there's others around that can do it as well.” And without another word he led the bleeding horse a hundred yards away and shot him. He came back, carrying the saddle. Newt was very grateful-he knew he would have had a hard time shooting Mouse.

”I wish now we'd never traded,” Ben Rainey said. ”I never thought anything would happen.”

That night there was much discussion of the dangers of handling cattle. Everyone agreed there were dangers, but no one had ever heard of a small cow hooking a horse under the girth before and killing it. Newt traded s.h.i.+fts with the Irishman and then traded again with his replacement, four hours later. He wanted to be in the dark, where people couldn't see him cry. Mouse had never behaved like other horses, and now he had even found a unique way to die. Newt had had him for eight years and felt his loss so keenly that for the first time on the drive he wished it wouldn't get light so soon.

But the sun came up beautifully, and he knew he would have to go into breakfast. He rubbed the tear streaks off his face as best he could and was about to head for the wagon when he saw Mr. Gus standing outside his little tent, waving at him. Newt rode over. As he pa.s.sed the open flap of the tent he saw Lorena sitting on a pallet just inside. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she looked very beautiful.

Augustus had made a fire of buffalo chips and was complaining about it. ”Dern, I hate to cook with s.h.i.+t,” he said. ”I hear you lost your pony.”

”Yes. Ben was riding him. It wasn't his fault, though,” Newt said.

”Get down and drink a cup of coffee to cut the grief,” Augustus said.

As he was drinking the coffee, Lorena came out of the tent. To Newt's surprise, she smiled at him-she didn't say anything, but she smiled. It was such a joy that he immediately started feeling better. All the way from Texas he had been worrying secretly that Lorena would blame him for her kidnap. After all, he had been supposed to watch her the night she got taken. But she obviously bore him no grudge. She stood in front of the tent, looking at the beautiful morning.

”I've got so I like this looking far,” she said. Augustus handed her a cup of coffee and she held it in both hands, the smoke drifting in front of her face. Newt was sure he had never seen anyone as beautiful as her-that he was getting to share breakfast with her was like a miracle. Dish or any of the other boys would give their spurs and saddles to be doing what he was doing.

She sat down in front of the tent and blew on her coffee until it was cool enough to drink. Newt drank his and felt a lot better. Poor Mouse was lost, but it was a wonderful day, and he was enjoying the rare privilege of having breakfast with Mr. Gus and Lorena. Across the plain they could see the herd, strung out to the north. The wagon and the remuda were a mile behind them. Po Campo, a tiny dot on the plain, walked well behind the wagon.

”That old cook is a sight,” Augustus said. ”I guess he plans to walk all the way to Canada.”

”He likes to watch the gra.s.s,” Newt explained. ”He's always finding stuff. He'll cook most anything he picks up.”

”Does he cook gra.s.s?” Lorena asked, interested. She had never seen Po Campo close up but was intrigued by the sight of the tiny figure walking day after day across the great plain.

”No, but he cooks things like gra.s.shoppers once in a while,” Newt said.

Lorena laughed-a delightful sound to Newt.

As she blew on her coffee, she looked at Gus. She had spent many hours looking at him since he had rescued her. It was comfortable traveling with him, for he never got angry or scolded her, as other men had. In the weeks when she trembled and cried, he had expressed no impatience and made no demands. She had become so used to him that she had begun to hope the trip would last longer. It had become simple and even pleasant for her. No one bothered her at all, and it was nice to ride along in the early summer sun, looking at the miles and miles of waving gra.s.s. Gus talked and talked. Some of what he said was interesting and some of it wasn't, but it was rea.s.suring that he liked to talk to her.

It was enough of a life, and better than any she had had before. But she could not forget the other woman Gus had mentioned. The other woman was the one thing he didn't talk about. She didn't ask, of course, but she couldn't forget, either. She dreaded the day when they would come to the town where the other woman lived, for then the simple life might end. It wouldn't if she could help it, though. She meant to fight for it. She had decided to tell Gus she would marry him before they got to the town.

Never before had she given any thought to marrying a man. It had not seemed a likely thing. She had had enough of the kind of men who came into the saloons. Some of them wanted to marry her, of course-young cowboys, mostly. But she didn't take that seriously. Gus was different. He had never said he wanted to marry her, but he was handier than most at complimenting her on her beauty. He complimented her still, almost every day, telling her she was the most beautiful woman on the plains. They got along well; they didn't quarrel. To her, it all said that he might want to marry her, when they stopped. She was glad he had waved the boy over for breakfast. The boy was harmless, even rather sweet and likable. If she was friendly to the boy, it might make Gus think better of her as a wife-to-be. Though he had still not approached her, she felt him stirring when they slept close at night, and she meant to see that he did approach her before they got to Ogallala. She meant to do what she could to make him forget the other woman.

When Newt rode back to the herd he practically floated over the ground, he felt so happy. The death of Mouse was forgotten in the pleasure of remembering Lorena. She had smiled at him as he was mounting to leave.

It was not lost on the cowboys that Newt had secured a rare invitation. As he loped back to the drags, many heads were turned his way. But the drive had started, and no one got much of a chance to question him until that evening, when they were all getting their grub.

Dish, the friend who had relieved him of the burden of killing his own horse, was the most curious.

”Did you get to see Lorie?” Dish asked point-blank. He still felt such love for Lorie that even speaking her name caused him to feel weak sometimes.

”I seen her, she was drinking coffee,” Newt said.

”Yes, she always took coffee in the morning,” Lippy said, demonstrating a familiarity with Lorena's habits that offended Dish at once.

”Yes, and I'm sure you spied on her every opportunity you got,” he said hotly.

”It didn't take no spying, she took it right in the saloon,” Lippy said. ”It was watch or go blind.”

He was aware, as all the hands were, that Dish was mighty in love, but Dish was not the first cowboy to fall in love with a wh.o.r.e, and Lippy didn't feel he had to make too many concessions to the situation.

”Dish don't allow low types like us the right even to look at the girl,” Jasper remarked. He had met with nothing but rejection at the hands of Lorena, and was still bitter about it.

”I bet Newt got a good look,” Soupy said. ”Newt's getting to an age to have an eye for the damsels.”

Newt kept silent, embarra.s.sed. He would have liked to brag a little about his visit, perhaps even repeat one of the remarks Lorena had made, but he was aware that he couldn't do so without causing Dish Boggett to feel bad that it wasn't him who had got the visit.

”Is Lorie still pretty or has all this traveling ruint her looks?” Needle Nelson asked.

”As if it could,” Dish said angrily.

”She's real pretty still,” Newt said. ”Mr. Gus did most of the talking.”

”Oh, Gus always does the most of it,” Pea Eye said. ”If they'd just pitch their tent a little closer, we could all hear it. Gus has a loud voice.”

”I wouldn't care to listen,” Dish said. It rankled him continually that Gus had all of Lorena's company, day after day.

”I never seen such a jealous bug as you are, Dish,” Jasper said.

Call had eaten quickly and left with Deets-the Arkansas was only a few miles away and he wanted to have a look at the crossing. They loped up to the river through the long prairie dusk and sat on the riverbank awhile. Even in the moonlight they could see that the current was strong.

”I've always heard the Arkansas was swift,” Call said. ”Did you try it?”

”Oh yes,” Deets said. ”It took me down aways.”

”It comes out of the same mountains as the Rio Grande,” Call said. ”Just a different side.”

”Reckon we'll ever get back, Captain?” Deets asked. He had not planned to ask, but at mention of the Rio Grande he felt a sudden homesickness. He had been back and forth across the Rio Grande for so many years that it made him sad to think he might never see it again. The Rio Grande was shallow and warm, and no trouble to cross, whereas the farther north they went, the colder and swifter the rivers became.

Call was surprised by the question. ”Why, some of the boys will be going back, I guess,” he said. ”I doubt that I'll return myself,” he added, and hoped that Deets wouldn't want to go either. He relied on Deets too much. None of the other hands had his judgment.

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