The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1886-07-11


| ceive.
He was soon to gain an insight into the auto
racy of cattle company, and 1t was promptly
evident that he was not to be favorite OF fort
une during the roundup OF 80. When, after
| few days, the distribution of horses was made,
| each man. as Is usual receiving seven as his
| string ii was found that nobody was 80 up-
| lucky as VIII Marshall. That his seven were
| posed of seven devils apiece he was fully per-
/ suaded. Time and again he was thrown, and,
| though never seriously injured. he was yet con-
| stantiy sore and lame from the wild antics OF
| which he was the daily victim. And when any
thing peculiarly disagreeable was to be done, it
appeared inevitable that Marshall should come
| In for share. He could not accuse the foreman
| of maliciously inventing work to give him
| trouble. Nothing that he was called upon TO do
| but was q legitimate duty dsvolving upon some
body Of the outfit to perform. All the same, it
was evident that Marshall was no favorte. 1t
was as well. He would have felt like sneak
accepting favors from this man he loathed.
The company moved slowly along the course
of the South Platte river, camping at frequent
intervals. When in camp. Wills duty was gen.
orally on the "horse-carry,n with couple OF
Others driving the horses out on the plains, and
then herding them while they grazed, 1t was
pleasant work when the weather was fine. with
the beautiful Colorado sky smiling over all, and
the dull brown plains taking on tender tinge
of green in the golden sunshine.
Almost happy then was viii as he idly rode
| about, giving himself up to thoughts of Beth. A
small, sweet hope haG stolen into his heart II
Lonergan were her accepted lover, why was he
leaving her for these long weeks OF the round
up? 1t could not be. 1t was all a miserable
mistake that some day her own sweet lips might
explain away. But hope only belonged to the
| pleasant DAYS; and, alas! it most often rained.
| Then cold, wet, and wretched. he remembered
the odor of Lonergan's roses, and her angry eyes
as she said good bye.
Soon they began riding on circle" gathering
| up the cattle in the country through which they
passed, and driving the herd along with them as
| they moved This involved night herding; and
| Wills life became more of burden. The night
was divided similarly to the watches on ship
| board, four relefs of two men each, following
each other from dark till dawn. Will was as
signed place on the fourth relief, going on at
o'clock, when his days work now practically be-
gan, since his rest for the night was ended.
After the day of hard labor that made even the
cowboy bed upon the ground luxury, no fate
| could have seemed more cruel than that which
pulled him out in the chill darkness for those te-
dious hours of herding before the dawn.
A cold rainy day had come and we'll nigh gone.
| AS was their wont after supper, the boys sat
| smoking around the camp fire telling stories
swapping lies.' as their own slang expressed it
and enjoying, with what spirit they might,
| their coarse jokes, when they were startled with
| the information that the cattle must be driven
| forthwith to the river, ten miles away. AS had
| come TO be matter of course, VIII Marshall
| was the FIRST man named for the unwelcome duty.
| 1t had ceased raining, but chill, damp wind
| was blowing, promising disagreeable night
| There were four to drive. however, the way was
| down hill and toward water with the wind blow
ing in their favor so that the cattle readily fol-
lowed the trail. and their progress was compare
| lively easy. But it was late and very dark
when, at length. they reached their destination,
and according to orders turned the cattle loose,
| to be gathered up by the riders along the river
the next day.
AS they turned back toward camp not the
keenest of human eyes could have discerned the
trail nd had led a
stiffness that gave no suggestion of the course
they should take; but they trusted themselves to
the instinct OF their horses, and rode confidently
| along. Now and then glow of lightning would
for a moment illuminate the scene, disclosing
the miles of billowy plains stretching drearily
before them, and then the after darkness would
seem more dense; and sometimes would come
little sprinkle their faces, and they would pull
their hat brims further down, and essay to spur
on the faded horses. Cold. wet and utterly
wearied they rode along with the stoical en-
durance born of necessity, the mutterlng OF dis
tant thunder and the beating of the horses hoofs
upon the soggy ground the only sounds.
Scarce conscious of cold or wet WAS Will Mar
shall hugging to his heart his thoughts of Beth,
for it had come about that rarely for an instant
was she out of his mind. He was vaguely con-
scious that dreamily wrapt in his tender fancies
he was as it were, clothed in an armor against
which the hard brows of his daily life fell harm
less. His whole thought now was of when he
might go back to her and beg her again the love
that was as his life. He dared not go yet-he
must give her time to forget his suspicion and
hateful words, and to remember the old-time
love. 1t was this fancied necessity for delay
that made the boy life endurable; one occu-
patton was good as another, since it was
simply TO serve at killing time until he might
venture back to her. And as he rode along
through the darkness, so intense that one seemed
almost pushing way through it as he went. his
staring eyes seemed looking into her sweet face
not coldly angry, as last he saw IT, but luminous
with love and tender welcome.
A cold splash of rain on his cheek, startling in
his reverie as though 1t had been the touch OF
departing soul as it hurried away from earth,
reused him at length, and shaking himself, as it
were. awake, he dug spurs into his horse and
calling to his companions to hurry dashed reck-
lessly away over the rough ground.
Suddenly he noticed that he heard but the
sound of one horses hoofs. Instantly he stop
ped, loudly calling the boys by name; but the
deathly silence of the night only answered that
he was alone lost upon the plainS. Absorbed in
his sweet fancies he had let the horse carry him
on, while the others, who knew the country, had
turned off into some other trail-who could say
how far back2 That the instinct of the horse
had allowed him go astray was almost incredi-
BILE. He was plainly one of the foolish ones of
his kind; and Will promptly pronounced his
rider another.
Again and again he halloed with all his might
with no result and, thoroughly disheartened, he
turned his horses head and rode back at
snals pace, YEARLY bordering what he should
do Not the faintest idea had he in which way
was the camp. in what direction ran the
river, where he might hope to run across some
ranch house.
Remembering presently. bit of Indian cum
ming, he dismounted and listened, with his ear
to the ground, only to hear those inartculate
murmurings of nature that are never stilled.
To his strained senses it seemed that he could
fairly hear the growing of the grass, but there
WAS no sound of human kind.
An hour or more went by in proftless wander
ing this way and that, now turned by the fan
cied direction Of the unpalpable wind, or again
by some trail that seemed to hold out hope as re-
veaed by the lightning At length the horse
seemed impatient to move faster, ana Will gave
him his head, thinking the chances as good one
way as another. The animal now went on at
brisk trot, presently quickening into lope, oc-
casionally shifting the air and neighine loudly as