“What is the reason you men down here all go armed?” he asked.
“O, we don’t. The people who live here in town never think of such a thing. The men out there on the porch don’t belong here. They live out on the plains, two or three hundred miles away; and when you have been out there, and have fallen in with a war-party of Apaches or a band of Mexican raiders, you will know why it is that they go armed. When they are at home, they wear their weapons all the time, day and night, for they never know when they are going to be pounced upon, and their stock driven off; and they get so in the habit of keeping themselves always in readiness for a fight, that they do it even in the settlements.”
“What do you suppose the landlord meant by telling me that I would have lively times out there on the ranche?”
“O, the Indians and Mexicans have begun their raids again. My employer lost about five hundred head of cattle last full moon, and his herdsmen were expecting another raid when I came away. The country for fifty miles around Palos is crowded with men who have been obliged to leave their ranches in the western part of the state, and come nearer to the settlements for the protection of their families and property.”
“Gracious!” exclaimed Gus. “Am I so near to hostile Indians?”
“You are within a hundred miles of the place where they bushwhacked a lot of herdsmen no longer ago than last week!”
Gus shuddered, and wondered how Mose could talk about it without showing some signs of alarm.
“Do they ever come near Mr. Ackerman’s rancho?” he asked.
“O, yes; that is, the Mexicans do. There’s hardly a stone in the wall that hasn’t been hit by bullets. They rode by there a few nights ago, but they didn’t get the stock they expected to find there, for it was all out of their reach. You see, they cross the river at some lonely spot, late in the afternoon, and approach as near to the settlements as they can without being discovered. Then, as soon as it grows dark, they dash over the ranches, pick up all the stock they can find, shoot anybody, man, woman or child, who happens to fall in their way, and depart as quickly as they came. They lose no time in getting back into their own country, for the herdsmen always start in pursuit as soon as they can get together, and if they overtake the raiders, they are sure to whip them and get the most of their cattle back. The Greasers are better on the run than they are on the fight.”
Mose talked to Gus in this way for an hour or two, and during that time the boy learned a good deal concerning the people, the country, the raiders, both Indians and Mexicans, and the life he was likely to lead as long as he remained at Mr. Ackerman’s rancho. He learned also, to his great surprise, that his father’s old book-keeper and clerk were not looked upon by the natives of the country with any degree of respect; but this was a matter upon which Mose had very little to say, and Gus did not find out why it was that Uncle John and his son were so unpopular.