Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-01-07
CHAPTER III.
Holy Cross.

\
| IS no door or window to invite attack. At
each of the four corners stands a bastlon
| tower to command the TANKS, and in the
north wall low towers defend the entrance
which is tunnel through the buildings,
barred by massive doors, and commanded
by loopholes for riAemen. The house is
| built of sun-dried bricks, the ceilings of
heavy beams supporting a fiat roof of
earth.
that the buildings the right are divided
up into a number of little houses for the
riders and their families; in front is the
gate of the stable court; on the left are the
chapel and the dining half, and in the mid
die of the square there Is we'll Through
me dining hall on the left one enters the
ii.tle court with It's pool covered with water
lilies. shaded by palm trees, and surrounded
by an arcade which is covered by creeping
plants, ablaze with flowers. The private
rooms open upon this clolster, big, cool and
aeark, forming little palace within the
fortress walls. Such is the old Hacienda
Santa Cruz which Lord Balshannon had
bought from FL Senior Don Luis Barrios.
FROM the beginning 1 saw no sign and
or of Mr.. Ryan. When Bashannon was
able to ride l gave him Ryan's letter,
watched him read 1t quietly. but got nary
wcrd from him. He looked up from the
letter, smiling at my glum face.
Chalkeye. said he, couldn't we snare
rabbit for Jim to play WITH He and the
Kid and me used to play together like ba-
bies, and Jim was surely serious with us
men for being too young.
In those days Balshannon took advice
f1em Bryant, our nearest neighbor, whose
rancho was only one days ride from Holy
Cross. Dick helped him to buy good cattle
t. stock our range, and two thoroughbred
Engl1sh bulls to improve the breed Then
he bought ponies, and hired Mexican riders.
So 1 began to tell my boss and his little
son about cows and ponies-the range-rid-
ing. driving and holding Of stock; the rop-
ing branding and cutting out; how to
judge grass, to find water TO track scout,
and get meat for the camp. The boss was
too old and set in his ways to learn new
play, but Jim had his heart in the business
from the first, growing UP to cow-punching
as though he were born on the range.
Besides that 1 had to learn them both
the natural history of us cowboys. the
which Is surprising to strangers and some
prlckiy. Being thoroughbred stock this
British lord and his son didn't need to put
on side, or make themselves out to be better
than common folks like me.
After the first year, when things were
settled down and the weather cool Lady
Balshannon came to Holy Cross, and lived
in the garden court under the palm trees.
She was poor invalid lady, enjoying very
bad health, specially when we had visitors
or any noise in the house. She never could
stand up straight against the heat of the
desert. On the range l was teacher TO jim;
but in the house this lady made the kid
and me come to school for education. We
used to race neck and neck over our sums
and grammar of an evening. l guess l was
the most willing, but the kid had much the
best brains. He beat me anyways.
Sometimes 1 got restless, shifting up wind
for trouble, riding around crazy all night
need any sleep. But then the boss wanted
me in his business. the lady needed me for
lessons and to do odd jobs, the kid needed
me to play with and to teach him the life
of the stock range; when I got Pacific
ocean fever" they all made such a howl
that had to stay. Stopping at Holy Cross
grew from a taste into a habit. and you
only know the strength of a habit when
you try to kill it. That family had string
round my hind leg which amt broken yet.
The boss made me foreman over his Mex
lean cowboys, and major-domo in charge
of Holy Cross.
In the house I was treated like son,
with my own quarters. servants and horses,
and my wages were paid to me in ponies
until there were 800 head marked with my
private brand. Some people with bad
hearts and forked tongues have claimed
that stole these horses over in Mexico. /
treat such with dignified silence and make
no comment except to remark that they
are liars. Anyway, as the years rolled on,
and the business grew, Mr. Chalkeye
Davies became big chief on the range in
Arizona.
When the kid was fourteen years old he
quit working cows with me, and went to
college. Balshannon missed him some, for
he took to straying then, and would go OFF
in the fall of the year for a bear hunt, in
the winter to stay with friends, and the
rest of the time would hang around Grave
City. l reckon the desert air made him
thirsty, because he drank more than was
wise, and the need for excitement set him
playing cards, that he lost pile OF
money bucking against the faro game and
monte He left me in charge of his BUSH
ness, to round up his calves for branding,
and his beef for sale, to keep the accounts,
to pay myself and my riders, and ride
guard for his lady while she prayed for
his soul, alone at Holy Cross When Jim
l tod ct 1ncyn he rrr,fa
In all that time we were not attacked by
Indians, Ryans or any other vermin.
Upon the level roof of Holy Cross there
was space enough to handle cavalry, and
a wide outlook across the desert There
we had lie-down chairs, rugs and cushions;
and after dinner, when the days work was
done, we would sit watching the sunset,
the red afterglow, the rich of night come
up in the east, the big stars wheeling slowly
until it was sleep time. But when the boy
was at college, and the boss away from
home, there was only Lady Balshannon
and me to share the long evenings.
Billy" she said once, for she never
would call me Chalkeye, Billy, do You
know that I'm dyins?"
Yes, mum. and me too but I don't
reckon to swim a river till L reach the
brink"
my feet are in the waters. Billy, now"
II wouldn't hurry. mum. 1t may be
heaven beyond, or it may be-disappoint-
ing
sYou dear boy she laughed; 81 want to
tell you a story
81 lit cigarette and lay down at the rugs
at her feet. II can bear it, num-
She lay back IN her chair, brushing off
the warm with her fan.
did my husband ever tell you about
man named Ryan,?
mot to me-no-
"Well, the Ryans were tenant farmers
on the Balshannon estate, at home, in Ire
land. They were well-to-do yeomen, almost
gentlefolk and George Ryan and my hus-
band were at school together. They might
have been friends today but for the terrible
Land League troubles which set the tenants
against their landlords. 1t was a sort of
smoldering war between the poor folk and
our unhappy Irish gentry. 1t is not for
me to Judge: both sides were more Or less
in the wrong; both suffered, the landlords
ruined, the tenants driven into exile It's
all too sad to talk about
MY husbands regiment was in England
then; my son was born there. Rex used
to get letters from poor Lord Balshannon,
his father, who was all alone at Balshan-
non, reduced to dreadful poverty trying
to do his duty as a magistrate, while the
wretched peasants had to be driven from
their homes. His barns were burnt twice
the house was set fire, his cattle and
horses were mutilated in the fields, and he