The Cook County herald. [volume] (Grand Marais, Minn.) 1893-1909, 1896-03-14

We We're out at the shearing corrals
of the Acorn outfit in one of the most
beautiful divides of the Vintah noun
i tains that skirt the western side of
Wyoming. 1t was late in the after
noon of June day, and the Mexicans
who stood in the long line Of corrals
had finished the shearing for the day,
and were busy grinding their shears
for the early start next morning.
In one of the small pens which di-
vide the corrals into compartments
stood one of the younger shearers:. In
that soft Mexican voice of his he was
telling his companion across the low
fence that separated them that he
had made n score of ninety ight
sheep for the day. His companion,
who Wase his elder by many years.
smiled. you seem to be working very
hard, Jose he said. 81 have noticed
3 thai you are always first to pick up
your 81 tie inornih and last to
leave the corrals at night. Perhaps
the senorita has something to do with
it. You will see the priest when you
J go back home, Jose% and the Mexican
. smiled at the prospect Of soon return
ing, as it was getting late in the sea-
! son. 8" %|5s
Jose's answer was interrupted BY a
long, clear halloa that went ringing
down the divide to be finally lost in
q the. Big Butte Canon at the south
All! that is Elena,' and Jose hurried
forward to greet the beautiful little
senorita that stood waiting to receive
him with a soft welcome shining out
of her eyes that left nothing to be said
as to her love for Jose. I was helping
Forncrook, BurEhalter & Sullivan
owners Of the Acorn: outfit, keeping
tally of the sheep. and as I crossed
the little stream that separated the
running corrals and chutes from the
q camps saw Elena's welcome to lose.
If there is any such thing as a stroke
of homesickness, 1 had very severe
stroke just then.
ii l watched them as they turned to
. the Mexican camp, Jose's arm around
Elena's waist, and then, with a very
strong tugging somewhere beneath
+ my buckskin shirt, I turned toward
our camp. Some way neither the
mountain trout nor the fried sage hen
dishes that more than make up for the
absence Of pastries and puddings, sat
istied me that night Supper over, I
was making a last round Of the sheep
with Mr.. Forncrook. to see that they
sWcIcE WuCu L ISdEu
the soft music. Of guitars, mandolins
and violin coming from the direction
Of the Mexican camp.
The dozen odd scanvaS-cOyered wag-
ons were drawn up in a semi-circle
In the center big fire of well sea-
,soned sage brush was cracking smerri-
ly. Seated about the fire were half
U a dozen Mexicans with two guitars,
three mandolins and a violin. AS I
/ stepped into the light of the fire saw
2 at once that / was an intruder. Call
ing to J-ose-Mexican Joe, as we
called hint told him was homesick
and wanted to stay with them q little
while. Jose explained my situation,
and was given a most cordial well
come. Elena up, and taking my hand,
led ME to seat by the fire, and right
then / promised myself that Jose's
ninety-eight sheep should go on record
& as 1OS for the sake Of Elena.
Jose, then, evidently much embar-
rassed, told me that there was special
occasion for rejoicing, as he had just
4 told his fellow -shearers that he had
Il claimed Elena for his own. Never
have 1 been more sincere in wishing
two people a long life of health and
perfect happiness. SoEle Mexican
wine was passed around, and we all
drank to the joy of Jose and Elena.
1T was well into the night, and still,
the singing continued. Never have q
listened to sWeeter music, and as I lay
B looking up at the stars aud those.
great peaks of the Rockies that com
4 pietely5 surrounded us, translated
each song into o. story of my own.
1t was in one Of these reveries that
s. i was awakened by the soft touch Of
Elena's hand. .Senor, she said, .s'now
will sing for syou.'' Standing IN
s front Of the fire., she loosened the
4 scarf which Jose had thrown about
her. First came the soft chords Of the