River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1901-10-10
HANK SIMMONS
By BENNETT +. HARRIS
eoopyraght, 1901, BY Authors syndicate.1
TT ANK SIMMONS was never reel
0 oned a particularly sociable il

Gerry at "the Corners, which
was the intersection of the Vim
ton, Crosbytown and Blockley roads,
in Saline county, Mo-. Gods country"
aforesaid, never had any great attrac-
ton for Hank, and the habitues of
that popular resort generally lowed
| that Hank was right smart of good
company-fer hisself. He certainly
seemed 10 prefer spending his even
ings on the paternal eighty, mending
harness, reading the weekly paper, or
even jess a-settin'" gazing blankly
into the fire of hickory logs, to the
charms of converse with the sages of
the soap box. Equally he stunned
"singin school," and the strawberry
and ice cream festivals allured him not.
Not" he said, "by derned sight"
Therefore, he might have been con-
sidered eminently fitted for the soli-
tary life of sheep herder in the slopes
of the Jarillas, whittier he had drifted
in course of time, but he had to con-
fess at last that he found it sort o.
lonesome" and that meant great deal
man would probably have gone stark
| staring mad in from six months to a
year, but Hank had now followed the
fiocks for three years, far from human
habitation and the sound of human
voices, and he was still reasonably
sane.
Once in two or three months the sup
ply wagon came around, and then the
| driver, Bill Williams, usually stayed
with him day or two and helped him
to move camp to pastures new. Occa-
sionally Mexican prospector or a
party of Indians on hunt came into
his range, but the rest of the time
] there was no sound but the ceaseless
| bleating of his sheep and the quick
crunch of their teeth on the grass; no
| sight but the same old everlasting hills,
with their scanty clothing of grease
wood and cactus and stunted pine; no
occupation but to SLOUGH along after
| his imbecile charges, or lounge in the
shade of rock and tree, no companion
ship. but that of the misnamed Diablo,
the half-bred sheep dog. 1t was no
wonder that he felt it "sort of lone
some"
| 1t was not so much the solitude, he
| said afterwards, as the eternal bleat-
ing, bleating, bleating. Or, at least,
that in some way acted upon his nerves
and intensified the feeling of loneli-
ness. 1t sometimes happens that a
herder who is not Mexican suddenly
snaps the cord of his endurance and
runs amuck through the flock, with
awful slaughter. After this happens
he usually kills himself, for the sur
| Viyors continue to bleat. This is just
as well, for he would be an awkward
! lum.
But this is beside the story, except
| to explain that Hank was so anxious
to have Bill Williams stay with him for
awhile longer on the occasion of his
last visit, and why Bill was so genuine
~ sorry that he could not,
I'D like to the best kind, Hank" said
the driver. If Long wasn't short of
chuck an waitin' fer me on Madre Chi
quota, I'd do it, but I've got to hit the
trail shore. It's sinche that you've
gotter come in, though, an I'll shore
bring some hombre to spell you Their
mex trip. Can you stick it out till
then? If you can't, get in the wagon
anyhow an let the sheep go to hell. A
mans worth more'n herd of snotty-
nosed sheep"
"Oh, reckon kin stand it'll then, -
sighed Hank; "but it's shore lone
some" And SO the long whip cracked
and the brake ground on the wheels,
and the wagon slid after the trotting
mules down the trail.
In two days Hank was sorry thai he
had not climbed into the wagon, and
considered whether he would not do
well to strike out afoot for the Madre
Chiqueta; but there were liyin' tracks
around the spring and the coral was a
trail thing, so he gritted his teeth and
stayed, and then in his need came
man and blackboard to the camp. 1t
is safe to say that no man ever got
heartier welcome.
He stayed two days, and when he
went betrayed his eastern origin by
asking for the bill"
"God!" exclaimed Hank, "ef you
only knew how tickled I've ben ter have
you here! How much do owe YOU,
pardner? I'd like ter hire you fer the
mex three months jest ter talk ter
me-"
That gave the parting guest an idea.
He may have realized how this solitary
herder felt. Perhaps even during his
brief journey the dreariness of the
desert had entered into his own soul.
AT all events, he unpacked his big
cowhide trunk and took therefrom a
small box and a paper parcel. From
the box he took curious little ma
chine, upon which he fitted a glossy hol-
low cylinder from the parcel; lastly
attaching tin funnel and winding up
the arrangement with a key. Then,
as Hank gazed in open-mouthed won
der, curious whirring sound proceed
ed from the funnel, and then in nasal,
vibrant tones voice which said: La
dies and gentlemen, fellow citizens: /
have no hesitation in declaring to YOU