"Well, there's just one hitch," answered Mr. Merkel. "I said it was a free and open race, but it isn't—exactly. Ranchmen who own more than a certain amount of acreage, grazing ground and range, are barred from taking any of this Indian land."
"But there may be enough good cattle men and horse breeders who will take up all the claims and so shut out the sheep," suggested Nort.
"That might happen, but I haven't told you all," said his uncle. "You see boundary lines out here are pretty uncertain. In some places there never has been a survey made. So not only may the sheep men jump in and claim the Indian land that the government has opened, but they'll over-run land that we now use for grazing cattle and horses. And I needn't tell you that once sheep have been on land it's ruined for my business."
This was very true, and though Nort and Dick had once been in the "tenderfoot" class, they had learned of the deep-seated hatred that existed on the part of a cattle man against a sheep owner.
There is a real reason for this. Horses and cattle in the West just naturally hate sheep. It may be that the cattle and horses recognize that the sheep is such a greedy eater that he practically cleans off the grass down to the very roots, whereas a steer or horse leaves enough of the herbage to grow for the next time.
Then, too, the strong smell of sheep seems to annoy horses and cattle. Often a bunch of steers or a herd of horses will stampede and run for miles, merely after getting a whiff of the odor from a bunch of sheep. They will even do this if, in grazing, they come to a place where sheep have been eating. And if sheep wade through a creek the odor of their oily wool seems to remain for days, and horses and cattle refuse to drink, unless almost dying of thirst. So much for the animals themselves, and because of this there was unending war between the horses and cattle on one side, and sheep on the other. Though it cannot be said that the meek sheep did any fighting. They never stampeded because they had to drink from streams where cows and horses had watered, nor did they refuse to nibble grass left by the larger animals.
Aside from the fact that the horse breeders and cattle men were pioneers on the old open range, and naturally resented the coming of the lowly sheep herders, there is another reason for the hatred. Sheep, as I have said, nibble the grass to its very roots. And then the small and sharp feet of the sheep cut into the turf and so chop what few roots that are left as to prevent a new crop of grass from growing—the fodder dies off. And as the sheep are kept constantly on the march, as they greedily eat their way, they spread ruin—at least so the ranchmen thought. So it was and had been war.
"This is bad news—bad news!" muttered Mr. Merkel. "We ranchers will have to get together and talk it over. We've got to do something! I want to talk to Tom Ogden." He was the owner of Circle T ranch, and a friend of Mr. Merkel.
"Shall I go for him in the flivver?" asked Bud, for since the advent of the little car he and his cousins often journeyed in it, leaving their horses in the corral. Though there were places where only a horse could be used, and of course for cattle work no cowboy would think of anything but of being in the saddle.
"No, thank you. I'll call him on the wire," said Mr. Merkel. "I'll have him bring some of the other ranchers over. We've got to act quickly."