Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1903-01-31
JOE THE COVE OY

We're dragged mercilessly through
mud or dust or stones or blazing en-
bers, while their moaning mothers
gazed with lolling tongues and blood
shot eyes upon their offsprings ago
MES, and Joe, sweeping with savage
grace from his saddlebow, scooped up
a handful of dirt and flung it with
derisive laughter into their poor dumb
faces. Yet no man of the whole out
fit could drag so many calves as he in
a given time to the branding fire, and
time is valued even on the plains.
Now, If Joe had come TO his death by
trampling of cattle In a midnight STAN
pede or goring at the horns OF n mad
dened COW, or if his pony, rendered des-
perate by spur thrusts and powerless
to shake from its back so expert a rider,
had suddenly reared and flung itself
backward, crushing him to the ground.
the end of this unpleasant youth would
have been in nowiSe singular. But that
this dunghill weed should experience
fate such as Nelson or Terry might
have gloried in was certainly an eX-
traordinary example of the vagaries of
destiny.
Autumn was come. and the herd Of
choicest beeves was gathered. Seated
tranquil in their saddles, the owners
contemplated with infinite satisfaction
their sleek sides and contented faces.
Excitement of any Bind meant shrink
age of flesh and was TO be strenuously
avoided because of the corresponding
shrinkage in the pockets of the two
gentlemen on horseback who looked
through those living prime roasts to a
roSeate perspective of a winter of pleas
ure and luxury following upon the sum-
mer of toll and hardship.
There is usually a thorn to the rose
somewhere. Here there was a river to
be crossed-a river which at this sea-
son should have been little more than n
ripping rill, but which recent phenome-
nal rains had swollen to an alarming
volume. Its turgid waters rushed eddy
ing by, and ever and anon splash of
startling force told of banks under
mined and Il still rising tide. Scarce
more than n stones throw away the OPP
pOsite bank. fringed with timber and
smiling in sunlight, offered an inviting
camping ground.
The cattle, which had been purpoSely
kept from the water until the moment
burrowing with noses deep in the cool
flood and swishing their tails content
eddy. The boys knew their duty and
led rather than drove them along. All
seemed going well and heading for the
farther shore when n big steer in the
lead was suddenly seized with panic,
and, turning upon his companions with
a frightened below. quickly threw the
whole living mass into riotous cOnfu-
sion. That portion of the herd which
had advanced farthest into the river
and was in swimming depth was swept
down by the seething tide, struggling
and believing, and couple of boys
spurred holly after to gather and bring
them back.
Alas, the very thing most undesirable
had come to passi The madness OF
fear, less resistible than that of rage.
was upon the herd. In vain the shouts
of encouragement from a score of
hoarse threats, in vain the pressing
hither and thither of faded ponies, now
swimming in the angry torrent, now,
scrambling up or down the unstable
bank. After an hour of hopeless mill
ing''-the resistless revolution of
huge milestone of living beef-round
and round, head to tail, packed with
rib breaking pressure one against the
other, after an hour in which every
possible means of eXtrlcation has been
resorted to without avail, the herd
straightens itself out as if by accident
and once more makes way toward the
opposite bank.
To keep them going in the right d.
rection is now the end and aim OF ev-
cry man and boy in the outfit. That
big brute that is always in the lead
may cause trouble again. Indeed he is
turning at this moment. and joe whose
keen eye has been watching him. urges
his pony forward to counteract if pos
sible the effect of this movement upon
the cattle in his immediate neighbor-
hood. Mingling with the rush and roar
OF the angry torrent, Joe's curses are
visible rather than audible. His pony
swims deep, and the boy is awash to
the waist. Suddenly the big steer
comes houndering by, with following
of terror stricken comrades. Joe In the
insanity of impotent fury endeavors to
intercept and turn them back. Cursing,
squirting to his death maybe, he cares
not. Down goes the pony under the
swimming charge OF steers. Up he
comes after they have swept by, but
with an empty saddle.
Joe was never seen again. Strange as
it may seem. even his body was never
recovered This is an absolute fact.
But while nobody grieved for the loss
of him-and the beasts certainly had
good reason to be thankful all must
admit that he died in the performance
of his duty.