to Tame a Land (1955) (9 page)

I had seen it, too, but what I remembered that some o f them seemed to forget was that the buffalo never stoppe d moving. They gave the grass a chance to grow back. I t was a different thing with cattle. They were confined t o one range, once men began to herd them, and they at e the grass to nothing.

My horse walked up to the trough and started to drink , and a long-geared man in boots with run-down heel s walked over from the corral.

"Light an' set," he invited me. "Don't get many visitor s hereabouts."

"Riding through," I told him as I swung down. "I'
m going to Uvalde."

"What I ought to do," he said, biting off a chew, "I s hould drift me a herd up to San Antone. But that take s hands, and I ain't got 'em. I'd like to drift a herd t o Kansas."

"Risky," I said. "Indians, herd cutters, an' such-like."

His wife came out to look at me, and two wide-eye d children in homemade dresses.

"Might buy a few myself," I said thoughtfully. "I'
m ridin' through. Shame to make the trip for nothin'."

He glanced at me. My rig was new and looked goo d and prosperous. "You could do worse," he said. "Fact is , if a man had him a little cash money he could buy cow s mighty cheap."

"Don't know," I said doubtfully. "A man could lose a sight of money thataway. Stampedes . . . Men have mad e money goin' over the trail, but they've lost it, too. Los t their shirts, some of 'em."

"Young fellow like you," the rancher said, "he shoul d take a chance if anybody should. Got your life ahead o f you. I reckon you could double your money."

"Well," I hesitated, "I have got a little money, but gol d is scarce in this country and I hate to get shut of it." I l et that settle down through his thinking for a few minutes, and then added, "Why, a man can buy most anything for gold in this country!"

"Gold?" He looked at me again. "Mister, if you wan t to buy cows with gold, you don't have to go any farther.

They pay ten dollars a head in San Antone. No w "More'n I'd pay. A man's got risks, driving to Kansas.

He has to hire riders, get a chuck wagon, grub, a strin g of horses. Takes a sight of money."

The rancher chewed slowly, looking thoughtful. "Migh t sell a few," he said. "Could use some cash money."

Cattle bred like rabbits and his range was overstocked.

He would have been a fool not to sell, if only to sav e grass for the other cows.

"Give you five dollars a head?"

He was astonished. "Five? You're crazy."

I gathered my reins and moved to mount. "Maybe I'
d better forget it, anyway. As it is, I'm drawing cow hand'
s pay. If I own cows, I stand to lose. I'll just forget it."

"Might let a few go for eight dollars?" he suggeste d hopefully.

"No," I said, "I've got to ride on. Enjoyed the talk."

He put a hand on my saddle. "Now, look "

A half hour later we compromised at seven dollars a head, his men to round them up, and no culls. I bough t a hundred head. And when Wilson came along, I swun g them into the herd. A neighbor boy who wanted to se e San Antonio came along for the ten dollars I promise d him to make the drive.

It was a good feeling, seeing those cattle, knowin g they were mine. They were good stock, and would brin g a good price whether I sold them in San Antonio or a t the end of the trail in Kansas.

William J. Bennett was waiting in the plaza at Uvald e when I rode my horse into the square with Wilson. Wilso n gestured to me. "Ryan Tyler," he said, "a good hand."

"Glad to know you," Bennett cut the end from his cigar.

"Got any cows?"

"A hundred head."

"I'll buy 'em."

As easy as that I could turn a profit, maybe double m y money, and in only a few days of work. I might go ou t again and buy more cattle and sell them, too. If I worke d hard and used my head, I could build a business for myself. But the trail to Kansas was north, and it was close r to Colorado.

"Ten dollars a head," Bennett said. "Take it or leav e it."

"No," I said, taking my time. "I don't want to sell. I w ant to make the drive with you." I leaned on the pommel. "Mr. Bennett, I want an outfit of my own. I kno w a little valley out in Colorado that's just what I want, bu t I need money. If I can sell those cattle in Kansas, I'll b e well along toward having my stake."

He rolled his cigar in his teeth and looked around th e plaza. Finally he took the cigar from his mouth. "Have yo u any more money?"

"Just a few hundred dollars."

"You want to buy more cattle?"

"Yes, sir."

He looked at the end of his cigar. "All right, Tyler."

He reached in his pocket and took out a small sack.

"There's a thousand dollars in that. Buy cattle for me , too. We want to leave here by the fifth."

As I started to swing my horse, he spoke again, onl y just loud enough for me to hear. "You the man wh o killed Rice Wheeler?"

For a moment I sat very still in the saddle. Then lookin g around at him, I nodded.

"Knew him," Bennett spoke abruptly. "He killed m y saddle partner at Red River Crossing four years ago."

Riding out of town, I felt the weight of that sack o f gold. It was the first time anyone had ever trusted me wit h money, and he had merely turned and tossed it to me. Ye t it was more than trust of money. He was trusting m y judgment to buy well. It gave me a good feeling.

A week later I had bought few cattle. The areas clos e to San Antonio had been swept clean, and all I had bee n able to send in were thirty head, all good stock but nothin g like what we wanted for the drive. So I pushed on, hopin g for better luck.

The country was wild and lonely, occasional chaparral , but mostly open country, broken and rugged. Ranche s were scattered, and some of the small ones were merel y rawhide outfits without enough cows to bother with.

The air changed and it began to look like rain.

By nightfall the clouds were hanging low and they wer e spitting a little rain, so I started the gray to moving alon g and dug my slicker out of my bedroll. I'd taken to wearin g both guns, but only one in its holster. The other I tucke d behind my waistband, the butt out of sight under the edg e of my coat. It was added insurance, because I was carrying another man's money and was never one for trustin g to luck. I'd helped bury a few men who did.

This was rough country in more ways than one. During any day's ride a man would come up to several horsemen, mighty hard-looking men. Most of them, by the loo k of them, had been up the creek and over the mountain.

The wind was blowing, splattering rain ahead of it, an d I was thinking of something to crawl into when I hear d cattle. Just the restlessness of a good-sized bunch, an d some lowing from cows. Then I saw the hard outline o f a roof gable, and just off the road loomed a large house.

In a flash of lightning it showed itself square and solid , built of sawed lumber.

To one side there were corrals and a lean-to, and beyond, in an open place that was walled on three sides b y bluffs was the herd. Catching glimpses by the heat lightning, I saw the steers were big and rangy, and they looke d like young stock. It was a herd that might run to six hundred head.

And then the rain hit. She swept in with a roar, th e solid sheets of water striking like blows on a shoulder , and I raced the gray to the lean-to and swung down.

Here, partly out of the storm, it was quieter except for th e roar of rain drumming on the roof. The lean-to wa s partly faced, and there was shelter for several horses. I f ound a place and tied the gray, and then I slopped, hea d down against the rain, to the house.

There was a light gleaming faintly behind a shutter, s o I banged on the door.

Nothing happened.

I was standing in the rain, as there was no porch, onl y a slab of rock for a doorstep. Dropping my hand to th e latch, I pressed it and stepped in, closing the door. I wa s about to call out when I heard voices. I heard a ma n saying, "You pay us now or we take the herd."

"You've no right!" It was a woman's voice, protesting.

"You were to be paid when the herd was delivered an d sold."

Outside rain drummed on the roof. I hesitated, feelin g guilty and uncertain of what to do, but the conversatio n held my attention. It was also my business. This was co w talk and I was looking for cows.

"We done changed our minds."

In the tone of the man's voice there was somethin g hard, faintly sneering. It was a voice I did not like, an d quite obviously the voice of a man talking to a woma n with no man standing by.

"Then I'll simply get someone else to handle the herd.

After they're sold, you'll be paid."

"We ain't gonna wait." The man's voice was confident, amused. "Anyway, who would you get? Ain't nobody gonna handle them cows if we say they ain't."

I felt mighty like a fool, standing there. But this woman had a herd to sell, and it looked mighty like I'd b e doing her a favor to buy it right now. But it was not goin g to make me any friends among those men.

"Anybody to home?" I called it out loud and there wa s silence afterward, so I walked through the door into th e lighted room.

There were two women there. One I guessed it wa s the one who had been doing the talking was standing.

She was young, and, in a plain sort of way, an attractiv e woman. The other woman was older. She looked frightened and worried.

There were three men, a rough-looking outfit, unshave d and dirty. All of them were looking at me.

"You didn't hear me knock," I said, taking off my ha t with my left hand, "so I took the liberty of coming in ou t of the rain."

"Of course. . . . Won't you sit down?" The young woman's worry wasn't making her forget her hospitality. "W
e haven't much, but "

"He won't be stayin'," the big man said abruptly. "W
e got business to talk. Nothin' for strangers to hear."

Before she could speak up, I took the issue by th e quickest handle. "Heard some talk of selling cattle," I said.

"I'm buying. How many and how much?"

The big man had heavy shoulders and a blunt, powerful jaw. There was a cross-eyed man and one m a gra y shirt. They didn't like it. They didn't like me.

"You heard wrong." The big man did the talking.

"We're selling in San Antone."

Ignoring him, I looked at the young woman. Her eye s were wary, but hopeful. "I take it you're the owner. I'l l buy the cattle here and save you the drive. I'm buying fo r Bennett, and he's the only one buying in San Anton e now."

From an easy steal it was beginning to look to the thre e men like a total loss. The big man was getting red aroun d the gills and the others were showing their anger. So I t ook the play right away from them.

"Ma'am, coming in like I did, I couldn't help overhearing some of the talk. Seems you hired these men to roun d up the cattle, to pay them when the cows were sold.

That right?"

"It is. "

"Now you look here!" The big man stepped toward me , his lips thinned down.

"I'll buy your cattle," I said to the young woman.

"I'll buy them as they stand according to your tally. I'l l pay cash."

"I'll sell."

I swung one foot just enough to face all three of them.

"The cattle are sold to me," I said. "You're fired."

"You-"

"Shut up!" I took an easy step toward the big man.

"I'm paying you off right now. You worked for wages , and I'm paying your wages. Want to make something ou t of that?"

It had them flat-footed. I was no defenseless woman , and while I might look young, that gun on my hip wa s as old as his.

"We got no argument with you. You didn't hire us, yo u can't fire us."

My eyes stayed right where they were, on him. But I s poke to her. "Ma'am, will you sell me those cows?"

"You just bought them," she said quietly.

"The price," I said, "will be mutually agreeable."

The man in the gray shirt was inching his hand down.

Some signal seemed to pass between them and the bi g man started to move. So I shucked my gun and laid th e barrel across the side of his jaw. He went down as if he'
d been hit with an ax, and my gun muzzle dropped on th e other two.

"The fewer there are," I said, "the fewer I have t o pay."

They wanted to try me. They wanted it so bad the y could taste it. Maybe if they both tried, they might tak e me, but somebody had to make a move-and nobody wa s anxious to die. And there is something about a man wh o knows what he intends to do, who knows what he ca n do. Burdette had seen it in me, and Logan Pollard ha d seen it long ago. These men could see it now, and the y hesitated.

The man on the floor groaned. Slowly the gray-shirre d man let his hand relax.

"Pick him up," I said, "and get out."