PEAKING uh the Rocking-R outfit makes me think uh the deal that caused them to bid me a fond farewell—in other words, the time they canned me. It wasn't a square deal, the way I sized it up; I was looking for a laurel wreath to set on my brow—and maybe a steady job as Family Hero, with nothing to do but look pretty and draw wages—and all I got out of it was my time and a lot uh disparaging remarks from the old man. If yuh want a man to admire your noble courage a lot, see to it that yuh don't hit his pocket; just so sure as yuh cause him to lose a dollar by your heroism, he'll turn yuh down and call yuh hard names—all of which I learned at the Rocking-R.
The way the play come up, I was breaking colts at the home ranch, for fifty a month—and I earned every blamed sou, now I'm telling yuh! Betweenwhiles, I was a kind uh unofficial courier for the whole push; and that was worth another fifty a month—only, I didn't get it. The old man was the sort that'll start yuh out on an errand to-day, and feel hurt if yuh don't get back bright and early yesterday morning. He didn't give a damn how yuh went about it—it was the miracle he was after, every time. He'd say: “Here, Bill, saddle up and take this note to So-and-so, and bring me an answer before sundown,” or something like that. And it didn't make any difference whether So-and-so was ten mile off or a hundred. Little Willie'd have to drift—and I will say that most generally Little Willie made good.
My top horse, that summer, was sure all right—when yuh once got on; but that same getting on wasn't any Labor Day picnic, either. Nobody but me could do any business with him at all, and even me, his loved master, used to dance on one foot for upward of an hour, with my other toe in the stirrup, before there was anything doing. Then he'd eat up all the precious minutes he'd wasted, in the first five miles, and I'd forgive him till next time I had to get on. It sure paid to do the lame-chicken act with him—but, Lord! he was hard on the nerves; especially the old man's, when he was burning with desire to see me start. The boys used to call me and Ring the Human Telegraph; but Ring wasn't human—not quite. I named him Ring-Around-a-Rosy, but life was too short to use that cognomen common, so I called him just Ring, unless maybe on Sunday, when I had time to burn.
I guess I'm a lot like Ring; it takes a lot uh prelude to get me headed anywhere; but I can go some, once II start. So here's the how:
The old man started me off one day—it was in the middle uh the shipping season—with a message for Blank Davis, the round-up boss. I was to get to camp by dark, change horses, and back to the ranch by daylight; the old man was in a sweat, and the “telegraph” had to get busy quick. It was some hurry-up order about a shipment uh beef. The old man was grasping as a devil-fish, and it was “frenzied finance,” and then some, in shipping time.
So, those being my orders, and the old man being more pecky about it than usual, I saddled Ring and done the toe-dance, same as always. It was no good tying up a foot—that made him plumb ugly. The old man danced around and swore, and I danced around and done the same. Finally I got on, and the way we faded from view up the coulée must uh done the old man good to see. I had ninety miles to get over, but I could bank on Ring every time.
The way I was headed took me straight away from Willow Creek and over toward Sand Piper, but bearing more to the east, so as to strike the round-up somewhere along on Big Birch. You know what a dense population that country hasn't got. There ain't a ranch in twenty mile; nothing but the hills and coulées and benches, all wearing a large, loose garment uh pure lonesomeness.
So I was burning the earth, along about half-way across the flat between Square Butte and Hell Coulée—and that's sure as lonesome a land as ever I want to ride over—when I seen something white fluttering from what I took to be a sheep-herder's monument on the little pinnacle at the head of Hell Coulée; only there hadn't ever been a monument there before. I headed for the flag uh truce, though it was quite a bit out uh my way, and the old man hadn't give me none too much time to make the trip in, and it was getting along past the middle uh the afternoon then.
But out where nature hasn't ever been manhandled, it don't do to overlook any bets; in those places “All men are brothers” is a good rule to go by. I rode along, and pretty soon I seen it was some human waving me a come-on—and a little closer, I knew it for a woman.