AT BIG HORN RANCH
The way lay along a flat stretch of prairie bordering the river, and then up into the hills. The brushwood in the immediate neighborhood was scanty, but in the distance they could see some scrub timber backed up by a stretch of forest. Far to the westward they could see the distant mountains over which the sun was now setting.
“Come on, you fellows, come on! Don’t lag behind!” shouted Spouter, and set off at a brisk pace along the well-defined trail leading to the ranch.
Joe Jackson, having seen that all of them could ride well, was quite willing to let them set their own pace.
“Only look and see where you’re going!” he shouted. “And remember at the split in the trail to take the one on the right.” And then he allowed them to plunge on ahead, but kept his eyes on everything they were doing.
“OFF TO THE EASTWARD YOU CAN SEE A BIT OF OUR RANGE.”
Rover Boys at Big Horn Ranch (Page 205)
Two miles from the station the boys found they had quite a climb, and here they were forced to slow down. A little later they reached the top of the first hill.
“There off to the eastward you can see a bit of our range,” said the ranch foreman, pointing with his finger. “And those cattle yonder are our cattle.”
By the time they reached the foot of the first hill the sun was setting beyond the mountains in the west and the long shadows were creeping across the trail and over the forest beyond.
“This must be some dark trail at night,” remarked Jack.
“Dark as a tunnel,” answered Joe Jackson. “You have to carry a lantern or a flashlight when you try to ride it after dark.”
“Ever get held up?” questioned Fred curiously.
“Nary a hold-up, lad,” answered the foreman, with a grin. “We leave all that to the movie men.”
“Did you ever have a moving picture company out here?” asked Gif.
“Yes, we had one crowd out here last year. They stayed around about six weeks taking some sort of a drama, as they called it. It was funny,” added the foreman, with a chuckle. “The leading lady was scared to death of horses, and yet she had to do a little riding. The man who was having the pictures taken wanted her to smile while she was cantering along. But that smile, believe me, wasn’t anything to brag about. They ought to have brought along some leading lady who liked horses and knew all about ’em.”
“Did they use any of your outfit?”
“Oh, they used a few of our cowboys in a round-up. They wanted me to go into some of the pictures, but I told ’em there was nothing doing—that I was here to manage the ranch and not make moving pictures.”
“How many men on the place?” asked Randy.
“We have six at present. But the boss is thinking of getting some more and increasing the herd.”
“Did dad get his Chinese cook?” questioned Spouter.
“Yes. He’s got a Chink named Hop Lung; a pretty good sort of a chap, too.”
They crossed two more hills and then passed through a patch of tall timber. Here there was a rough wagon road, and the foreman explained that it was used for hauling firewood to the ranch house and the bunkhouse.
It was growing dark when the party on horseback approached the ranch. Already lights were streaming from the windows and the automobile stood in front of the wide veranda which ran around two sides of the building.
“They got here ahead of us,” announced Jack.
“I thought they would,” answered the foreman. “The river road is in pretty good shape just now, so I suppose the boss made fast time in driving over.”
“The trail to the ranch was rougher than I expected,” put in Andy. “If you tried to run a horse over it he would most likely break a leg and maybe you would break your neck.”
“I’ve known one of our boys to go over to the station inside of twenty minutes,” returned the foreman. “But he only did it to catch a train and on a bet. I’d rather take my time and save my horseflesh.”
When they reached the ranch Mrs. Powell came out on the veranda to greet her son and his chums. She was a round-faced, motherly woman, and she immediately did all she could to make the young folks feel at home.
“You must be thoroughly tired out from your long trip,” said she. “So we will have supper right away, and then if any of you want to go to bed you can do so.”
“I can’t say that I’m tired,” answered Jack. “But I suppose the girls are and maybe Aunt Grace is, too.”
The travelers were shown to some rooms and then told where they could wash up if they so desired.
“Supper will be ready in ten minutes,” announced Mrs. Powell. “So don’t take too much time in primping up,” she added, with a smile to the girls. “Remember, you are on a ranch now and you can dress exactly as you please.”
“I’m going to slip on a plain gingham right now,” declared Martha.
Their hand baggage had been brought along on the running-board of the touring car, and a little later one of the cowboys came in with their trunks, which had been brought over from the station in a wagon. In the meanwhile the crowd sat down to a somewhat elaborate supper which Hop Lung had prepared under Mrs. Powell’s supervision.
“He’s a very good cook,” the lady of the ranch confided to Mrs. Rover. “But he occasionally tries to turn out some very funny concoctions, so that I find it advisable to keep my eyes on him.”
“The cowboys are quite excited over the idea of having visitors here all summer,” said Songbird Powell during the course of the meal. “And two or three of them are especially excited over the fact that there are going to be so many girls and ladies. You see, the brothers who used to own these combined ranches weren’t married, and all they had around the houses were an Indian woman and a real old Dutch woman who was almost entirely deaf.
“Joe Jackson told me that one of the cowboys, a fellow named Hank Minno, was very bashful and had almost been on the point of giving up his job when he heard so many skirts were coming here.”
“Oh, dear, I think I’d like to make the acquaintance of Mr. Hank,” said Martha mischievously.
“Perhaps if he saw you coming he’d run away,” returned Mary.
“Oh, I think he’ll get over his bashfulness, and so will some of the others,” answered Songbird Powell. “And let me tell you one thing—when I first got here I thought the men were a pretty rough crowd, but the more I get to know them, the more I’m satisfied they’re all right at heart.”
“Your foreman certainly seems to be a fine fellow,” said Jack. “We got well acquainted with him riding over.”
“He was well recommended by the former owners of the ranch, Jack. And so far I’ve had no occasion to find any fault with him. He seems thoroughly trustworthy.”
The Powells had given their visitors their choice of what to do concerning rooms. They could either crowd themselves a little and remain in the one ranch house, or otherwise the boys could take rooms in the other house, which was located about two hundred yards away.
“If we went over to the other place we could have things all our own way,” whispered Andy to his brother and Fred. “We could come and go to suit ourselves.”
“I think you boys had better stay in this house with us,” said Mrs. Rover. “Then we can keep an eye on you.”
“But there is no sense in all of us being crowded,” returned Sam Rover. “And the boys are certainly old enough to take care of themselves. I think we had better let this matter rest until to-morrow, and then we can see how we can arrange it.”
“If the boys go over to the other ranch house I’ll have Joe Jackson stay there with them,” said Songbird. “He’ll know how to make them line up if anything goes wrong.”
Several days later it was arranged for all the boys to take their belongings and settle down in the other ranch house so far as rooming was concerned. They were to have their meals in the main house. The foreman of the ranch went with them, taking a room in a corner where he could watch what was going on if it became necessary to do so. The boys took three connecting rooms, the twins occupying one, Jack and Fred another, and Spouter and Gif the third.
On the second day at the ranch the boys began to feel quite at home. Accompanied by the men, they had visited many points of interest and had become acquainted with all the cowboys, and also with Hop Lung, the cook.
“Wellee nice boys,” remarked the cook, after they had been chatting with him and gone their way. “Wellee nice boys. Me cookee heap good dinner for ’em.” And then he dived into his kitchen to start his preparations for the next meal.
The boys found all the cowboys friendly. One of them could do some marvelous stunts with a lasso, and, urged by the foreman, gave an exhibition which interested the lads exceedingly.
“Why, that fellow is as good as anybody on the vaudeville stage,” remarked Fred. “I never dreamed so much could be done with a rope. Just see how he whirled it around his body and between his legs and over his head!”
“Yes, and how he lassoed those three running horses all in a bunch,” added Fred. “That’s what got me.”
“He ought to be in a Wild West Show,” put in Jack.
“I’ll have the boys give you an exhibition of shooting this evening,” said the foreman, and he was as good as his word.
Some of the cowboys proved to be remarkable shots both with the rifle and the pistol. But here the boys, especially Fred and Jack, felt at home, and they, too, showed what they could do.
“Rattlesnakes and tarantulas!” exclaimed one of the cowboys, Hank Minno, the fellow who was supposed to be so bashful. “You kids sure kin shoot some. I s’pose you learned it at that there military school you’ve been goin’ to.”
“Yes,” answered Fred. “Although we sometimes do a little practicing when we’re at home. Down in the long cellar of our house.”
“Well, it’s a good thing to know how to shoot, lad. Sometimes it comes in mighty handy like,” answered Hank Minno.