The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1902-04-01
CHAPTER I.
ANGUS THE FIRST.

eoIG uupdlnLaDle III any poor WOrQ-
pigments of mine; an evening vibrant
with the harmonies of the attitudes,
unspeakable for me, and altogether
Understandable to any who have
never looked upon the soul-quelling
glories of a Colorado mountain sun
set. Macpherson had propped me with
two bear-sllins and a spare poncho
on the squared log which served as
door-stone for the ranch house,
and had given me the feld-glass
wherewith to amuse myself. 1t was
my first sane glimpse of the shell
tered upland valley watered by the
Torolito. Three days before, when
Macpherson had brought me up from
Fort Cowan swathed in blankets and
dashed lengthwise on his blackboard,
I had been too i'll to know or care
greatly about the whence or whittier.
1t was stockman's paradise, the
park-like little valley shut in by lofty
mountains, and from the heaving
swell crested by the ranch buildings
and corral the metes and bounds of
Macpherson's small kingdom were
well within eye-sweep. Eastward, no
more than rif1e-shot from the home
ranch, black cash in Gringo noun
tain marked the portal of Six-Nile
canyon, the only gateway to the par
adise; and from thence the inclosing
ranges diverged to meet again in the
snow-coifed summit of Jim's peak at
the head of the valley. The "X-bar-
2" men, with the exception of the
mild-mannered desperate who cooked
for US. were still out; and Macpher-
son sat beside me, naming the night
nesses in their order, and pointing
them out with the stem of his black
Guilty pipe. When 1 lowered the field
glass in sheer WEAKNESS, he told me
about the single fly in his pot of ONT
ment
Now it may chance that when one
has given hostages to death, pano-
ramic sunsetsand friendly condolences
may become alike mere fotsam and
jetsam on the ebbing tideway of
time; but Macpherson was too good
fellow to be fouted in his time of
asking. Wherefore, when he had
made an end, I was fain to put
little life, galvanic or otherwise, into
the moribund body of human inter-
est.
'Then you think this land company
will ultimately drive you out of the
Torolito?" said I.
..sl1re. It's only question of time
if the syndicate once gets hold. The
stock-raiser is like the Indian; he
must move on when the farmer
:omes.''
'The relentless march of civiliza-
ton, and all that, eh?" quoth I, lying
IN wait to spring upon him.
Eyes; it's the survival of the fit
test, suppose"
A near-hand view of eternity is
subversive of many theories, and 1
dashed out in fine scorn.
What an internal lot of cant we
can swallow when it's sugar-coated
with the ipse dixit of the theorists!
Why don't you call things by their
right names and say that when the
strong man comes, the weak have to
give him the wall? You drove up
here five years ago when everybody
said that the first winter in this alti
tude would cost you every hoof yor
owned. You proved the contrary;
and now, when you've set up YOU
little kingdom in one of the waste
places of the earth, a lot of capital
lists come along and invite you tt
abdicate. I'd see them hanged frst!'
Macpherson made dumb show o.
applause. He is latter-day re
crudescence of the physically-ft he
roes of the Hcmeric age, with square
shoulders and legs like posts; a mar
who can bend nails in his bare hands
and who has never found the bottom
of his well of strength; but he ha
ish tenderness in them-eyes tina
may glow with righteous indigna
ton, but which know not vindictive
ness.
"Oh, you be damned" he said, al
fectionately. "What would you do?
SD be governed by circumstance
and fight for my own to the las
gasp. You can do that as well a
another, can't you?"
He took time to think about it. &c
don't know. If Setter would stan
by me
who Is selter?" AS I have sale
it was only my third day in the Tore
Tito, and the first two had been spen
in the spare bunk of the ranch house
9TH have to begin back u bit t
account for him. Three years ag
a rattletrap of prairie schooner
but say; you're sick, and I don
want to bore you with folklore"
go on; I'm three planetary orbit
beyond the boring point"
care you? Well. as I was going
say, a shacllly old schooner drifte
up Six-Milc canyon and into the parl
Jake Setter was its skipper, an
the crew consisted of wife, hal
grown daughter, and flock of lit
ones. They were homesteaders lool
ing for a bit OF prairie with strea1
convenient which could be damme
and dltched, and the old man dro,
l. II