NEEDED WATCHIN' AN’ HERDIN'

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 29, Issue 18, 6 March 1917, Page 6

NEEDED WATCHIN' AN’ HERDIN'

4 Texan Sxoex. •• Teii 1 ’ said tho old oattle man, as he toot off his sombrero and gazed meditatively al the rattlesnake band which environed the •town, " Cow-punchers are mighty queer people, they need watohin' and herdin' nearly as much as oattle. " I knowed one by the name of Steveneor down on the Turkey Track ranohe, in Texas. ki merited a heap of lookin’ after. This yert Stevenson wasn’t exactly onery, but bein' naturally restless an’ peevish, with a disposition to be emphatic whenever he was fill. In’ of himself up, keepin’ your eye on him was a good safe play. He was publio-eperited 100, if anyone ever was, and sometimes took lots of pains to please people. " I minds onoe when we was bringin' up a beet herd from the Panhandle country. We was up agin’ the south bank of the Arkansaw Iryin' to throw the herd across. There was a bridge there, but as we allowed it was plenty weak, we was enjoyed in makin’ the bsrd wade.

" Steve was posted at the entrance of the bridge to turn back any loose oattle that might take a notion to try an' cross that way. Thar he was, a settin' on his bronco an’ both mighty near asleep. Some women people—towerists I reckon—as was camped In town, oame over on the bridge to see the un. They was lined out close up to Steve, an’ a loanin' of their young Eastern ohinss pn the top rail, a lookin’ down. " 1 1 don't regard this much,' says one young woman, ‘ there ain'tno thrill into it. Why ever don't they do something-exoit-Wt

11 Steve Bees the young woman is die. pleased an’ as he couldn’t figger nuthin’ else out quick to entertain her he gives a whoop, bangs his six-shooter off into the icenery, digs his spurs into the boss, an’ hops over the side of the bridge into the shallow water below.

“ The jump I reckon was some 20 feet an’ busted the pony’s legs like tooth-picks, be rides breakin’ Steve’s collar-bone, an’ dis* cerain’ of his features around mighty free an’ (rightful, on account of his lightin’ rather heavy on hie face. " Well, we shot the pony, an’ Steve rode lour or five days in the grub waggon reoooperutin’ of himself. " Just the mercy of Providence that he didn’t break his neck .

“ 1 Whatever did yJu jump off for ? ’ 1 asked Steve when he was cornin' round.

' '• * Well,’ says Steve, ‘ to amuse that she ihort-horn as was cussin’ us. I wasn’t allowin' for her to go back to her blamed old States maligin’ of us cowmen,’ “ Steve got himself killed a year after, an’ ■truck out on the big trail where the hoof prints all p’ints one way. He was over on upper Red River a gamblin’ around with the cowboys when he got creased. “ Steve never oughter gambled none. He was a good cowboy— splendid round-up hand—an’ could do his day’s work with rope or iron in a brandin’ pen with anybody: but lomin'right to„oasos he didn’t ■krf&w any more about playin’ poker than preachin’. Actually, he’d bet two pair like there was no **oord of their bein’ beat. This yere, o( ■ourse, led to frequent poverty, but it didn’t seem to teach Steve nothin’. He was downright foolish on that p’int. “ On the oocasing of his demise, one of the boys got hold of a tray-full; Steve bein’ possessed of a club flush, queen at the head. That settled it. In two minutes he didn't have even his blankets left.

" After be went broke Steve bisted in a drink or two o£ nose paint and soured around a whole lot an’ just as the tray-full boy gets into bis saddle, aimin’ to go out to bis camp, he comes p’/ong up an’ bails Mm.

44 ‘Do you know/ says Steve, mighty gloomy, 4 I’ve been trying to school myself to bear it, but I cant, an’ I’m therefore here to say as bow you stole that pair of kings as you made out your full band an’ completed my ruin. This bein’ troo, I’m just goin’ to draw on you for that bric-a-brac I lost, and I looks to see you honor the draft unmurmuringly.’ •' 4 Ob, do you ?* says the tray-full boy mighty scornful. 4 Well, your a heap too langine. You just send the draft through the clearin’ house an’ watch it get thrown out a whole lot. Do you suppose I gives up the fronts of a tray-full; as bard a hand to hold as that is ? Well I guess not; not this roundup.’ 4 4 4 Don’t get flippant about this yere rob bery,’ says Stave. 4 It’s enuff to be plun lered without bein’pestered with ill timei gaiety. Now. what I say is this: either I get my stuff back, right here now, or our sucoeedingoonversation will occur in the smoke, in’ thereupon Steve pulls his pistol an' takes hold of the tray-full boy’s boss by the Intldlt. 4 4 4 It anything makes me more weary than another,’ says the tray-full boy, 4 it’s gun play, an' to avoid such exhibitions I freely return your plunder, but mark me, you and I don't play cards no more.' 44 So the boy gets down off his boss, an’ Steve, thinkin’ the debate is closed, puts up bis gun again. But he was a heap too hopeful ; for the next second, bang I goes the tray-fall boy's six-shooter, and the bullet ketches Steve in the neck. It bothered hie breathing to such a limit that in two minutes he quit tryin’ altogether; an’ that alterooon we bad a hasty but mighty successful funeral with his remainder.

‘‘‘l don’t reckon,’ t aye Gene Watkins, who was ranch boss, there’s no need of bavin’ any trials or lawsuits about this yere killin’. I’ve knowed Steve for a long time an’ liked him, but them views he kept entertainin’ as to the value of poker hands leads straight to everlasting life, and this yen sorrowful episode don’t surprise nor stampede me none whatever. His death should b« a warnin’ tn us.’ ”

—Kama* City Star.