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The Boy Ranchers in Camp Part 17

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"Might as well make it right soon," was the answer. "Now that we have the steers quieted they'll be glad enough to take it easy. I planned to water 'em at the next stopping place, and that will give us a chance to see what Buck Tooth put up for us."

"Stay there all night; will we?" asked Nort.

"Might as well," a.s.sented his cousin. "No use running all the fat off our stock. We want 'em to weigh as heavy as possible."

This was good business tact on the part of the boy ranchers. For cattle are generally sold by weight, either "on the hoof," which means alive and as they stand in the stock yards, or by weight after being slaughtered. In the case of ranchers "on the hoof" is generally understood.

And driving a bunch of steers at too great a speed from the ranch to the railroad would make them thin, "running off their fat," so to speak, thus losing all the advantages of the rich fodder to which they had had access. And when it is considered that it is not at all difficult to cause a steer to lose from ten to fifteen pounds by means of poor driving, and when to this statement is added the fact that this loss is multiplied in hundreds of steers, Bud's state of mind can easily be imagined.

"Yes, we'll get 'em quieted down, and take it easy ourselves,"

suggested the Western lad. And, a little later when some of the steers broke into a run, Nort exclaimed:

"Are they stampeding again?"

"No. I reckon they just smell water," Bud answered.

This proved to be true, and this contagion spread all through the herd, though with no ill effects, for the water hole was not far off and, reaching it, the animals stopped to drink.

There was some confusion and excitement because so many thirsty cattle all wanted to drink at once, but it did not last long, and Bud, Nort and d.i.c.k were glad when they could slip from their saddles, tossing the reins over their ponies' heads as an intimation to the animals not to stray.

"Oh boy! But I'm tired!" exclaimed Nort, sighing.

"Add hungry to that and I'm with you," said his brother. For there had been days of long and difficult work in preparing this bunch of cattle for shipment.

"Getting tired of the game?" asked Bud, as he rustled up some sticks of greasewood to make a fire over which they might boil coffee and fry bacon.

"Not on your life!" laughed Nort. "We're in the game to stick!"

"Sure thing!" a.s.serted d.i.c.k.

They made a simple but ample meal over the camp fire and then, as evening settled down over the vast prairies, and quiet enfolded them like some soft mantle, they lay on their blankets and gazed at the feeding cattle.

The steers were very quiet now, evidently feeling quite satisfied with the manner in which they had been treated, and having, of course, no intimation of the fate in store for them. They had food and water and that is all they required. Overhead was the cloudless sky, in which sparkling stars were beginning to stud themselves.

"I hope the market is well up in price when we get to the yards,"

observed Bud, idly chewing on a spear of gra.s.s.

"Yes, it would be dandy to get a big price for this stock," agreed Nort.

The boy ranchers were rapidly becoming interested in the business end of their venture, as they had been, for some time, in the more picturesque side. The difference of a fraction of a cent in the price of cattle on the hoof meant the difference of several hundred of dollars where there were many tons of meat to be considered.

"Well, we'd better ride herd a little while, to make sure they get bedded down quietly," suggested Bud, as it began to get darker. "Then we'll roll up and snooze ourselves."

This "bedding down" of the cattle, meaning thereby inducing them to get quiet enough so they would lie down contentedly chewing their cuds, was part of the routine of a cowboy's life.

"Some of 'em have already started in," observed Nort, as he went up to his pony, which, with the other two animals, had been contentedly grazing. "Looks like they'd lived here all their lives."

He indicated a score or more of the steer's that were stretched out on the rich gra.s.s which at once formed their food and their bed.

"Yes, I reckon we'll have a quiet night," observed Bud.

The three chums slowly rode around the bunch of cattle, the lads occasionally breaking into the chorus of some song.

The cattle seemed to like this singing--not that this is to be considered a compliment to the voices of Nort, d.i.c.k and Bud, though their tones were far from unmusical. But the fact is that animals of most sorts are fond of music in any form, and nothing so seems to soothe and quiet a bunch of cattle, especially at night, as the singing of the herders.

Perhaps it is due to this fact that we have so many cowboy songs with an interminable number of verses, in which there is little sense or sequence--a mere jumble of words, often repeated. The cattle seem to care more for the tune than for the sentiment.

At any rate the bunch from Flume Valley grew more quiet as the night became darker, and when the remains of their camp fire gleamed dully in the blackness, as they made their way back to it, Bud and his cousins considered their work done for the day.

"We won't stand any regular watch," Bud said. "I think they'll be all right. But if we should hear a disturbance--I mean any one of us--he can awaken the others, and we'll do whatever we have to."

"And if we have any luck we won't have to roll out," observed Nort, as he spread out his blankets and tarpaulin, which last was to keep the dampness of the ground away.

"Then I'm going to cross my fingers for luck," observed d.i.c.k.

Save for the occasional distant howl of a coyote, or the uneasy movement of an occasional steer, with, now and then, the clashing of the horns of some of the beasts, there was silence in the camp. Bud was the first to fall asleep, because he was more accustomed to this sort of life than were his cousins. But they were rapidly falling in with the ways of the west, which teaches a wayfarer to consider home wherever he hangs up his hat, and his bed any place he can throw his blanket and saddle.

But finally Nort and d.i.c.k dropped off into slumber, which became sounder as the hours of night pa.s.sed. All three of the boy ranchers were tired and they were in the most healthful state imaginable, brought about by their life in the open.

"What hour it was d.i.c.k had no idea, but he was suddenly awakened by sensing some movement near him--too near for comfort considering his exposed sleeping position. For he felt something cold and clammy at the back of his neck, as though a chunk of ice, or a hand dipped in cold water, had touched him.

"Hi! Who's doing that?" yelled d.i.c.k, for he had a sudden dream that he was back at school, and some one was playing a trick on him. "Cut it out!"

No sooner had he spoken than he realized that he had awakened Nort and Bud, for by the flickering light of the embers of the fire he could see them sitting up and staring over at him.

"What's the matter?" demanded Bud.

"Something tickled the back of my neck," declared d.i.c.k. "I guess a coyote must have been picking up sc.r.a.ps of food, and smelled of me.

Hope he didn't take me for a dead one!"

"Coyote!" exclaimed Bud. "I don't believe you could get one to come near you, not as long as you breathed. It must have been a----"

"Snake!" broke in Nort, without thinking of what the word might mean.

"Wow! Don't say that!" cried d.i.c.k, and he leaped up, scattering his blanket and tarpaulin each in a different direction.

"Shut up!" commanded Bud, laughing. "Do you want to start the cattle off again? If it was a snake it won't hurt you, and it was probably more scared than you, d.i.c.k."

"Yes--maybe!" said the other. He lighted a stick of greasewood at the fire, and looked about his part of the sleeping ground. But he found nothing in the animal line.

"Guess you dreamed it!" said Nort.

"I certainly did not!" emphatically declared his brother.

"Well, go to sleep again," advised Bud. "If you feel it a second time call me!"

"Huh! I'll do that all right!" declared d.i.c.k. He carefully shifted his sleeping place, making a searching examination of the ground before spreading out his tarpaulin. And he was some little time in dropping off to slumber again.

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The Boy Ranchers in Camp Part 17 summary

You're reading The Boy Ranchers in Camp. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Willard F. Baker. Already has 566 views.

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