# The Pacific Monthly/Volume 1/A Rough Rider

​A ROUGH RIDER.
By F. J. McHENRY.
DIDN'T know Jake Hodge, stranger?"
There was an unspeakable contempt in the speaker's voice, evidently caused by my lack of knowledge of Osage country's greatest celebrity. Said lack was 'excused only after I had explained that I was recently from the East. Owing to my rough dress, it is fair to presume that I had been taken for one indigenous to the plains. A consummation I had devoutly wished for, owing to the remembrance of a startling incident on a previous visit four years before, on which occasion I had heard the crack of a pistol and a bullet whizzing past my head, which proved to be an emphatic, if not a very pleasant, way of a coterie of cowboys of reminding me that the denizens of the plains drew the line at silk tiles. So, at least, the fat Jew had explained, who immediately after the shot yanked me bodily into his store hard by, and sold me for six dollars and four bits a slouch hat that would not have sold for the four-bit por- tion of that sum in the effete East.
It was on that first trip that I had met Jake Hodge, ex-cowboy, and at that period the proud handler of the ribbons over four spanking horses that took the tri-weekly stage bowling out of D. City to Cotton- wood, fifty miles south, on the Cimmaron.
Jake was a character in his way, for while, as a matter of course, he was of that rough exterior naturally engendered by his surroundings, nevertheless he was at heart a pretty good fellow, and that, too, notwithstanding that he had been, in the parlance of the plains, "a tin-horn gambler." The most formidable oath he was ever known to use, when angered by one of the male persuasion, was, "You dog- goned dadbusted son of a sea cook." After having delivered himself thus, he acted as if the person addressed had been placed in the lowest category imaginable, and never, even though he stood six feet one in his stockings, with a proportionately Herculean frame, was he ever looked upon as having, in plains parlance, "a big plenty of fight in him." He used to say himself, "I'd ruther eat three square meals a day ​than be the dadbusted bulliest hero that ever died with his boots on."
However, my acquaintance with him does not warrant my telling his story. But I will give it as told to me by a local character who was christened Roper Smith, but commonly called Rope. It was he who had made the above reply that opens this true story. The name of Jake Hodge seemed to be in everybody's mouth, and I was curious to know if I could connect it with my quondam acquaintance of the stage. So, after Rope had "liquored up" at my expense, we settled ourselves on a rough bench in front of the Coyote saloon, and he gave me the following facts regarding Jake Hodge since I had known him.
"Well, pardner, ez you're a sure-enough stranger on this range, I'll be plum pleased to tell you about Jake Hodge.
"Let's see; it was three years ago last fall round-up, that I war up at D—City with Jake, an' we had loaded on all ther express and war pullin' past ther hotel when ther galoot that is called ther lan'lord sung out an' allowed that thar was two passengers who wanted to occupy ther hurricane deck of that ar stage as far as Cottonwood. Jake just yapped back, 'Well, trot ther durned galoots out an' git 'em abroad.' Right thar, pard, I happened to look at Jake's face, an' I saw his eyes bug out ez big ez a lassoed cow. An' no wonder, pard, fer trottin' down them ar hotel steps to git on ther stage was ther purtiest dadburned leetle bunch of petticoats that these old blinkers of mine ever blinked at. She war callin' out in a voice as sweet as a durned lark, 'Hurry up, papa, an' help me in.' But quicker'n you could snap a quirt, Jake war on ther groun' an', throwin' me ther ribbons, he went to 'sistin' her like she'd been the queen of Timbuctoo. Just 'bout that time, pard, ther parient—a little, sawed-off, broad-ez-long Dutchman—came down to ther stage, a-puffin' like a wind-broke broncho, an' dumb in too.
"Supposin' that Jake war goin' to git in 'longside er me, I started to hand him ther ribbons, when I saw him give a disgusted look at his togs, an' then, pard, he says to me, 'Rope, I have a leetle business to attend to that I'd 'most furgot. You jist keep ther ribbons an' sashay along at a moderate gait out on ther road an' I'll catch up with you on a broncho, 'fore you reach Twelve-Mile creek.'
"You see that big cattleman's outflttin' store acrost 'tother corner, pard? Well, it war on ther way out to Twelve-Mile that I first diskivered that our Dutch passenger, old Van Dorn, was ther father-in-law to Jim Clark, that is ther boss of that ar outfit, Jim havin' married ther oldest sister of that there pretty bunch of petticoats. Old Van Dorn had got rich late in life, an' had edicated ther 'foresaid gal finer'n a sky pilot, an' was a-takin' her on a visit to her sister in Cottonwood.
"It war sure easy enough to see that ther old man thought her about ez fine a critter ez ever pranced over ther range, an' not by his consent would any ordinary galoot ever have ther chance to put ther cinch on her.
"We war a-nearin' of Twelve-Mile when I heard a clatter of hoofs behind us, an' up tore Jake on ther back of a sweatin' broncho. Changed? Well, some, pard, some. He'd blowed hisself for a whole durned outfit, from a pair of high-heeled puncher's boots up to a Stetson sombrero, with a leaf ez wide ez ther horns of a Texas steer. Ez sure ez shootin', pard, he did look skookum in them ar store clothes, topped off by er red necktie big enough to set all ther bulls on ther range a-fightin'.
"Pardner, I'll allow that I'm usually dull ez a suckin' calf in a blizzard, but I could see that ther glance that Gretchen — ez old Van Dorn called her — gave Jake when gittin' on ther stage, had done for him an' thrown him at her feet quicker'n if he'd stuck his foot in a durned coyote hole on ther dead run. So I didn't surprise much when Jake came lopin' up all togged out. But the gal, Lord bless her purty eyes, flushed up a pink that 'ud have put a prairie rose to shame, 'cause she knowed at once Jake had done it in honor of her.
"Purty soon, pardner, we rolled up to ther sod house at Twelve-Mile, an' while Van Dorn and Gretchen rested in ther shade of ther house, me an' Jake watered ther stock an' hatched ther plot that arterwards made Jake act like a doggoned locoed idiot.
​"You see, pardner, he war dead gone on that ar gal, an' believin' that all's fair in love an' war, he asked me if I would straddle his broncho an' ride on about six miles ahead to ther Cross Bar ranch, which was located in a canyon a half-mile off ther trail, an' couldn't be seen, an' tell ther boys there that he had a Dutchman aboard that war afraid of bein' held up by road agents, which war true enough. He told me to tell the boys that he wanted to play a joke on ther Dutchman by havin' them come tearin' after ther stage out of ther canyon on their bronchos, an' to have them keep up a stiff yell an' use their forty-fivers some liberal, but to be dad- busted careful to shoot high, as he war goin' to git out an' pertend to defend ther stage. In this way, by purtendin' to fight ther robbers to a standstill, Jake hoped to gain ther undyin' gratitood of Gretchen an' have her love him hard for a dad- busted hero.
"So, pardner, makin' believe to ther old man that I wanted to limber up a leetle on horseback, I started out for Cross Bar ranch, while Jake held them a half hour at Twelve-Mile, makin' 'em think he had to fix ther harness, so's to give me time to fix things with ther boys. I didn't have any trouble with 'em on that score, pard, for they hadn't had such a pizen big layout of fun in a coon's age. So I had plenty of time to git back to ther stage 'fore it war within two miles of where ther punchers war to help Jake make a dadbusted hero of hisself.
"Ther outfit they used for a stage was a long box spring-wagon with curtains on ther sides, with room for three seats, but ther bein' only four aboard we used only two, leavin' quite a space back for mail sacks and packages. On purtence of her bein' able to see ther kentry better, Jake had got ther gal in the front seat with him, while ther dad meditatively smoked his pipe in ther back seat.
"It war that way I found 'em when I met 'em on ther trail, an' Jake tipped me ther wink to get in ther back seat with ther old man. So, after tyin' ther bronk at ther back, I dumb in 'longside of ther old fellow, an' fell to tellin' wild yarns about ther cowpunchers an' road agents. It war about time for ther boys to show up, an' I had commenced to think they had fluked me, when all ter once I seed a half dozen of 'em cum scootin' out of ther canyon an' yellin' like a pack er durned Comanches.
"Say, pard, you ought ter have seen that Dutchman's face as ther boys commenced ter shoot. Talk about skeer; he war worse skeered than any durned tenderfoot that ever danced before a drunken cowboy's forty-five.
"He yelled, 'Mine Got in Himmel, is dose der road agents?' 'Yes,' says Jake, 'an' Dick Bummell's gang at that, ther worst in ther southwest.' At that Jake commenced to lash ther horses, an' we went whirlin' over ther prairie, slikerty kersloot, faster than ther devil after a sinner, while the leetle gal war all ther time cryin' out, 'O! my poor papa, he'll be killed!' An' Jake war tryin' to curry her down with soft words.
"Purty soon he saw ther horses war sweatin' like a nigger at election, an' gittin' blowed bad, while ther bronk at ther back war tearin' round like mad, tryin' to git loose. Jake saw something had ter be done, so turnin' to me he says, 'Climb over here an' take these ar reins an' slow up a leetle.' Then he drew his shootin' iron an' looked at ther loads, borrowed mine, an' commenced to crawl back an' untie ther broncho.
"Pardner, it war mean, but Gretchen, thinkin' it was all real stuff, called out to him in tones of terror, 'O Mr. Hodge, what are you goin' ter do?' 'Goin' ter save you, or leave my carcass for ther coyotes to feed upon,' sung back Jake as he jumped to ther ground.
"At that he sprung inter ther saddle, an' yelled ter me ter drive faster. I had nothin' to do but ter obey orders, so I gave ther horses such a cut as drove them sockdoleger inter ther collars, givin' ther stage such a jerk forward that it loosened ther old Dutchman's seat, dumpin' him backards among ther mail sacks, where with his fat legs wavin' in ther air he lay on ther broad of his back bellerin' louder'n a drove of stampeded cattle in a storm.
"Jake by this time, watched by Gretchen, war ridin' helter skelter back at ther supposed robbers. All at once he pulled up an' went ter gittin' out his guns. Ther gal cried, 'He's goin' ter shoot 'em.' She was so excited *hat she didn't notice me ​slowin' up, an' I looked roun' just in time ter see Jake fire, an' at each shot one of ther boys tumble to ther groun' 'cordin' ter instructions. Finally, there war but two left, an' they turned tail an' scampered off, leavin' Jake to cum back ter ther stage a conquerin' hero, while ther boys that war supposed to be shot were flounderin' around like chickens with their heads cut off, an' ther gal a-pityin' of them 'cause they war in ther death throes ; but I knowed blamed well they war just bustin' their sides with laugh at ther old Dutchman's heels in ther air.
"Arter Jake got back in ther stage, an' we made it penetrate ther old man's mind that Jake war not one of ther robbers, we got him right side up with care once more. He an' Gretchen put up a song of praise of Jake's bravery that kept him in a continooal blush, but it warn't all from pleasure, but a good deal of shame was runnin' over ther range of his feelin's. But ter ther gal he was a real hero, an' durin' ther rest of ther drive her purty blue eyes skasely ever left his face.
"A leetle after sund or ^i we pulled inter Cottonwod, an' after supper me an' Jake an' a lot of ther boys war standin' round in front of this ar saloon swappin' lies, when up cums ther old Dutchman. Takin' Jake by ther arm, he invited us all in ter take suthin'. When we-all uns had named our pizen, an' war about ter say 'Here's to you,' the old fellow says, 'Poys, I vish ter introduce to you der biggest hero of der centuary,' an' Jake nor I couldn't stop him till he'd told ther whole blamed story of ther hold-up. That was a part of ther shootin' match that we'd never considered, an' we'd both have given a slicker to never have held that hold-up. The town at that time, pard, war on ther boom, and we had a good many more women here than now, an' ther gal had rounded up all those fe- male critters an' given Jake a bigger send- off 'n ther old man had in ther Coyote saloon.
"To make a long story short, pard, noth- in' would do but the citzens of this camp must hire a substitute for Jake and give him a lay-off of a whole week, an' a blow- out, for they believed ther story all ther more, for ther had been a genuine hold-up forty miles north of D — — City ther week before.
"For about four days Jake an' ther gal owned ther town, an' enyone with half an eye could see that they were orful spooney on each other. Jake'd take her out walkin' every evenin' down to that lone cottonwood tree thar, an' there they'd sit an' eye each other like a couple of durned matin' burds. Happy? They war that, for a fact.
"The fall round-up was on south of here, an' Jake took Gretchen out ter see ther sight. My! How peart proud she was when Jake cut out a frisky 3-year-old out of a herd that a puncher had been tryin' to get for half an hour. This was the fourth day of Jake's lay-off, pard, an' while he was out at ther round-up a couple of ther Cross Bar boys came down to take a hand, and while in ther Coyote saloon, an' not knowin' they war doin' of Jake any harm, who they liked harder than a mule can kick, blatted out the true story of how ther blamed hold-up happened ter come off.
"Well, ther cat was outen ther bag, an' old Van Dorn, from bein' full of gratitood, had turned hotter against Jake than a cattleman ever was agin a tenderfoot that was homesteadin' in part of his range.
"When Jake an' Gretchen got back, rid- in' in ter town ez happy ez two bufflers in a waller, the folks seed 'em comin' an' ez ther two rode up commenced to guy Jake onmarcifully. 'Nough war said to let Gretchen catch on that ther hold-up was a hoax. Turnin' pale like, she says to Jake, with her sweet lips quiverin', 'Jacob, is this true?' Tears welled up in her purty blue eyes ez Jake replied, all choked like, 'Yes, Gretchen, I'm a bigger sneak than a cattle rustler.' Then she slid from her broncho an' with a simple 'Good-bye, Jake,' staggered inter her sister's house.
"Pardner, I've seen men strung up, shot full of holes an' cross over ther great divide by bein' trampled to death by herds of wild steers, but I never saw such pain an' agony in a human critter's face ez war in Jake's ez he watched her ter ther door. Then while ther crowd jeered he turned his broncho's head toward the Texas Panhandle on a wild, mad ride.
"I'd rid the line, pardner, too long with Jake an' knew him ter be all man, ter let him go off alone like that. Straddlin' my bronk I put spurs and quirt ter him an' ​started likerty skit, an' overhauled Jake 'bout two miles down in No Man's Land He tried to speak, but ther war a hitch in his talkin' apparatus. I said to him. '.Take, old pard, wherever your range is, I'm goin' with you.' When he found he wasn't entirely forsaken, he stuck out his hand an' tried once more to speak, but it broke him all up, an' purty soon we war both blubberin' like a couple of kids with ther lollypops.
"I got him ter stay over at Lone Tree ranch while I went back to Cottonwood an' next morn I war back with a purty fair outfit for two for ther range. I'd also larned in town that Van Dorn and Gretch- en were about to start for their home in B., Missoury.
"I won't spin out this yarn too long, pard, by tellin' you of how we lived for the next two years, but git down ter ther meat of ther thing by tellin' you that Jake writ Gretchen a letter a tellin' her how he come to play that trick, an' addin' that, if God would let him live, he would yet prove hisself all ther man she had thought him. Not a line ever came back in answer, but he kept a workin' like a man on ther range, an' all ther time studyin' jogerpher, readin', writin' an' grammur, till, by an' by, his lingo became so darned high-falutin' that half ther time I didn't know what he war talkin' about, but all ther time he remained ther same quiet good feller.
"We'd been down in ther Panhandle, pard, about two years, when one day ther foreman of ther Circle ranch, where we war workin', sent both of us to Budgeville for supplies. When about six miles from ther town, near the heel of ther evenin', one of them Texas northers came up, an' it warn't long 'fore we war lost in ther worst blizzard I ever seed. Say, pardner, it war a frozen hell of fury let loose. We war lopin' along, headin' northeast almost in ther teeth of ther storm. All ter once Jake's broncho refused to face it longer, an' mine, seein' him turn, follered suit. The devil seemed ter be in 'em, an' spur nor quirt wouldn't make 'em go any other way. There warn't a town fifty miles of us in that direction, so if we hoped to reach shelter, there war only one thing for us ter do, an' that war, hoof it. We tried to lead ther bronks, but they wouldn't face that storm an' we had ter let them go. I shame some ter tell it, pard, but 'fore long I slumped over in ther skurryin' snow dead beat. An' I never knowed any more till I woke up 'fore a roarin' fire, an' I all wropped up in blankets. Jake war layin' long side of me. but hadn't cum to yit, an' ther folks war a pourin' whisky down him ter git ther cirkelation started.
"I larned that we war in Budgetown an' ther folks a half hour ago had heard a faint cry, an', goin' out, they had found me all wropped up in Jake's coat an' slicker, while the poor devil hisself lay on ther groun' in his shirt sleeves, dead beat, after havin' carried me all that way through that blizzard. All I want ter say pardner, ez, if that isn't ther kind of stuff heroes are made of, you can shoot me for a goldurned sneakin' coyote.
"Next day the weekly stage got in ter Budgeville about twelve hours late, but ther news in ther papers it brought set us all afire. Bein' no less than that Uncle Sam had declared war on ther Spanish an' that Teddy Roosevelt, who every puncher knew as ther bulliest dude that ever left N. Y. to ride ther Western ranges, had called for volunteers, for a rigiment of rough riders.
"Enough is said, pard, when I tell you that Jake's name an' mine war not ther last on ther roll of enlistment. When ther rigiment finally came tergather, we found that they warn't all cowboys, but a purty good sprinklin' of New York dudes. But by ther time we got ter Cuba, we had found them a larapin good set of fellers, ever patient on guard or in ther trenches, an' as brave as ther best of us under fire. They took a special shine ter Jake, par- ticularly one young sargent named Jim Hamilton.
"We'd hardly made a landin', fore we war ordered to ther front. You've read of ther first fight of the rough riders, pard, an' how we war ambushed by them cussed Dagos, so there's no use of me trailin' over that, only to say at ther first fusillade several of our boys dropped fore we thought we war in ten miles of ther cut-throat Spanish. Cheerin' ther boys on' young Hamilton war in the lead a bit, out in a leetle clearin', open to ther rain of Mauser bullets, when all ter once he ​sunk ter ther groun' an' I heard some one yell, 'Save him!' but not a man of us dared to face that storm of shot, but stuck to ther palm trunks, till just then I seed Jake Hodge come tearin' through ther palms an' mesquite brush an' dasb out in the clearin' with his Krag-Jorgesen on his left arm. He grabbed up young Hamilton on his right as if he'd been a baby, an' was turnin' to run back, when it seemed as if ther whole dadburned Spanish army war taken a shot at him. He staggered, an' I saw young Hamilton fall from his grasp. Then I closed my eyes, an' my heart came up in my throat, for I couldn't bear to see my old chum go down. Then all ter once the wildest, sky- splittin' cheerin'est cheer that mortal ears ever heard rent ther air, an' I opened my eyes to see Jake rushin' back with Hamil- ton on his left arm. Jake's poor right, when he'd dropped him, had been shat- tered by a Mauser bullet, but ther brave deed warn't no use, for young Hamilton was dead.
"Then came ther final charge, an' we druv ther Spaniards back upon their works. That, pardner, war whar Jake won his stripes ez first sargent.
"Pardner, it war a real relief one morn, when in those trenches filled with mud an' slime, that we heard, after a scatterin' fire, ther sharp, quick order to take ther San Juan hill by storm. At it we went with a yell. Half way up I saw a fiyin' figure, with his arm in a sling, come tearin' arter us. 'Twar Jake, gaunt an' pale, but bound ter have a hand in that ar scrimmage, havin' escaped from ther hospital for that purpose. The rush war fearful, but the leaden hail storm that ther Spaniards poured upon us made our part of ther line waver an' I believe we would have fallen back, but just then Jake tore through from ther rear to ther front, an' yelled out, 'Come on boys!' an' come they did as they saw Jake leap up on ther redoubt.
"Ez you know, pard, ther fort was taken with a dash, but arter it war all over, poor Jake war found outside ther redoubt, bleedin' like a stuck yearlin' from ther mouth, havin' been shot in ther right lung. Ther company surgeon said he war ez good ez dead, but we toted him with lovin' care to ther field hospital.
"How'd Gretchen git thar? Why, pard- ner, she war already thar. You see even if her dad war a Dutchman, he'd brought her up to be a good American, an' you can bet yer sweet life she war a true blue leetle American, too, with a big A. For as soon as ther war had broken out she had jined ther Red Cross Society an' went ter ther front to nuss ther wounded.
"Jake war a long time gittin' well, but most of us thought he war playin' 'possum, cause Gretchen war his nuss.
"When ther rigiment war mustered out, I came back here to ther range country, but Gretchen — who is now Mrs. Leftenant Hodge — an' Jake, settled down back In Missoury, where he's studyin' law, ther meanest thing he ever done. Gretchen is very proud of Jake's record as a rough rider, an', now that he's proven hisself, she often tells, with a quizz in her eye, of ther wonderful fight he put up standin' off road agents in her defense."
IN STARLIGHT.
Upon the river, where sometime the showers
Of summer moonlight make a path across,
A single star shines thro' the lonely hours.
And brings a subtle sense of pain and loss;
As, while we tread the narrow path of
duty,
The memory of a joy that fled away
Comes back to us, and darkens with its beauty
The dull, unchanging ways we walk today.
—Florence May Wright.