North to the Salt Fork (26 page)

They rode together through the grazing herd. Many of the cattle were lying down, chewing their cud. Sorrel, like all cattle buyers, had an eye for detail. As he rode through the herd he obviously noticed lots of things and commented to Jack about a funny set of horns or the color pattern on a steer's hide, simply making conversation. He also avoided a snorty steer or two.

When they had seen all of them, Sorrel nodded. “Good cattle.”

“We culled them at home. Made some folks mad, but no sense in bringing culls this far.”

“You know the market's around eight cents a pound?”

“Last fall it was ten cents.”

“That was then. Things aren't quite as good these days. What do you think?” Sorrel asked.

“I ain't selling them to the first man that comes along. Hell, as good as they are, someone may offer me twelve cents a pound for them.”

“Oh, you might get more than that, but that's the best I can offer. Eight cents.”

“Sorrel, thanks for coming, but I'm gonna have to pass. Ralph will have dinner ready soon; you're welcome to stay over for it.”

“No, thanks, I've got business.”

“Appreciate your coming out.”

“No problem. But just remember, Starr—they may offer you less.”

“We'll see. They're straight steers and there are few to no culls. That's gotta be worth something.”

“I know, but the demand isn't here right now. Trust me.”

Jack shook the man's hand and saw him off. Cattle buyers always had excuses. He'd see what he'd get from the other buyers and act accordingly.

Charles Manning showed up a few hours later. He drank some of Ralph's springwater before he and Jack made a swing through the cattle.

“You weren't lying,” Manning said. “I don't believe there's a head of female stock in your herd. Good, big, uniform steers. But I have to tell you, I need to wire an outfit in Illinois, so I'm not making any bids until I do that.”

“Whatever suits you,” Jack said. “You're welcome to stay for supper.”

“Naw, I need to get back to Wichita.”

Manning went back to town and Jangles frowned at Jack. “They all this hard to deal with?”

“It's a cat-and-mouse game.”

“They'll get to stirring and more buyers will be by,” Jangles said confidently.

“Guess I ain't patient enough.”

“You're just anxious to get back home.”

“I guess I am. Lucy may have had the baby by now and I'm dying to see whether I've got me a little boy or girl.”

“When Shanks gets back tomorrow morning we can leave him in charge and ride over to see those grass hills,” Jangles suggested. “Might take your mind off the homesickness.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Jack said.

 

Before sunrise, satisfied the boys could handle the herd, they ate a quick breakfast that Ralph had fixed for them, packed their bedrolls and short-loped across the prairie, waiting for the peach glow of dawn to blossom.

It was only a short while before they began to see the bluestem. The country was too rough to appeal to any farmer and his plow, but the area was well watered with creeks and springs, and fat whitetail deer were abundant. Plum thickets were in full bloom and sage hens crossed their path often in a burst of wings.

By noon they were convinced the country had been overlooked and would make powerful ranch land.

“You ever wonder how well cheap yearling cattle would do up here on this grass?” Jangles asked.

“I been thinking the same thing. We could assemble a herd of them cheap and bring them up and try it this fall.”

Jangles looked a little let down. “I bet it gets cold up here.”

“I don't know. It's still a ways south of the North Pole.” Jack shook his head. It wasn't going to be like being on the gulf either.

“Maybe we ought to try it?” Jangles perked up.

“We can get the credit to buy the cattle,” Jack said, “and get us the supplies for a year. If the cattle do good we should make some money. Two of you rangers could also stay up here and watch after the cattle and we could go three ways on any profit.”

“I think Cotton would like to be in on the deal.”

“I'll let you handle that. For myself, I've seen enough to make up my mind.”

Jangles stood in his stirrups and surveyed the waving brown grass, which was beginning to green up at the base. “I'd sure be proud to be your partner in this deal.”

They shook hands on it and headed back for camp. Clouds were piling up in the northwest and Jack grew concerned that the approaching storm might be a bad one. They pushed their ponies harder. No way they could beat the force sweeping across the rolling prairie toward their camp, but Jack hoped that Shanks, who should've returned to camp by now, had a plan to get everyone moving if they needed to.

Not stopping, they put on their slickers as they were riding. Soon large, cold raindrops began to beat on them, followed by sheets of hail. I should never have left the herd, Jack thought. It would be all his fault if anything serious happened. I was out looking at grass, dammit. Focusing on future projects when I should've been taking care of the current one
.

Daylight had turned to night by the time they reached the chuck wagon. It was still an hour or more to sunset, despite the darkness. The storm threatened to tear Ralph's fly off. Lightning cracked overhead like a bullwhip and rolled off across the Kansas prairie.

Jack dismounted, handed his reins to Jangles and ducked inside. Ralph, wearing a slicker, blinked at him through the raindrops.

“Where's the herd?” Jack asked.

“Shanks moved them out before the storm. He had all the boys ready,” Ralph said above the roar of the rain.

“Good. We'll tie up the horses and we can wait here. No sense wandering around in the dark, not knowing where we're going.”

A flash illuminated the canvas tent. Ralph agreed and Jack went to help Jangles. Their horses hitched, they came inside. Jangles was glad to hear that the herd had moved on, but only time would tell what their losses would be.

 

The rain finally moved east and they went outside. Stars began to twinkle. But there wasn't a sound of lowing cattle in the night. They could be several miles away, depending on how far they got beyond the storm. Hopefully there had been no stampedes. The steers were supposed to be gentler by now.

At dawn Cotton rode in and dropped heavily out of his saddle.

“How are we?” Jangles asked.

“Alright. Everyone with the herd's accounted for. They're heading them back this way. But we can't find Estefan or the horses.”

“When did he head out?” Jack asked, worry lines creasing his forehead.

“He left when we did.”

“Jangles and I'll go look for him. Ralph, Cotton'll help you set up camp; we're out of grass here anyway. We'll see where Estefan ended up.”

“Sure,” Ralph said. “That guy's half horse anyway, so I'm sure he's fine.”

After grabbing some biscuits, the two left to locate the horse herd. Jack used his field glasses to try to catch sight of the remuda. Midday they found two dead horses with a D-T brand. No doubt the victims of a lightning bolt.

Jack dreaded the notion of finding more losses. There might be others injured and dead. Damn, where was that boy?

After loping for a few more miles he saw, through the lenses, the very thing he was looking for: horses descending a hill and Estefan leading the pack.

When Jack finally found his horse herder, he was babbling to himself in Spanish about the storm. He'd lost his sombrero somewhere. His facial expression looked somewhere between vacant and upset.

“How are your horses?” Jack asked, looking over the grazing cow ponies.

“I lose four of them,
patrón
.”

“Lucky we didn't lose them all and you too.”

With a bright-toothed smile Estefan nodded. “
Sí
, I prayed a lot, señor.”

“Them boys could use some fresh horses. I believe they're south of here. You did fine, Estefan. You're a real good man.”

The youth seemed to gain his bearings now that he was among men again and began to whistle as he swung his coiled reata, beating it on his chaps. Soon they were off on a long trot.

Midday they found the main herd scattered and grazing. Shanks came to meet them.

“How many do you figure we lost?” Jack stood in his stirrups to stretch his muscles.

“Not more than ten. We've looked hard for strays and drop-offs. But our horses are about done in.”

“You guys did great. Better get fresh horses.”

Estefan came on a trot with two fresh mounts in tow. Shanks swung down and began undoing his latigoes. Either came and claimed the second gelding. Estefan rode off hard after some more mounts.

The chuck wagon was set up and several of the cowboys pitched in to help Ralph with dinner. Things were happening fast, but Jack was glad his crew knew what it took and no one shirked his part, whether it was making biscuit dough or frying sliced bacon.

Jack relaxed a little and the stiffness in his shoulders began to evaporate. He wished he could sleep for five days. He dismounted and sat on the ground. His entire outfit had been through a helluva night and then some. But they were tough to beat.

While they were eating, Sorrel drove up in his buggy with a lathered horse.

“Why did you move so damn far?” He gave them an angry look.

“It wasn't by choice.” Jack wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “The cattle chose this place.”

“I've got a buyer for the cattle. Ten cents a pound. He wants a five-percent cutback.”

Jack shook his head at the man. He knew there was a market for cattle, and that meant he had some say in the final outcome. Culling five percent from his herd was out-and-out robbery. Folks back home in Texas needed every dime he could deliver.

“Give me two days to think on it?”

“No longer, and you give me a chance to match anyone else's bid, since I came out here and talked to you first.”

“I might trade with you, but the five percent is off. You can cull any sorry or crippled steer, but not five percent across the herd.” They shook hands and Sorrel took the afternoon meal with them. Then in the late afternoon he headed back for Wichita.

Charles Manning found them the next morning. Jack felt even more confident after Manning made his offer. He proposed eleven cents a pound and a two-percent shrink. Jack told Manning he'd let him know. The cattle buyer acted put out.

“When're you going to decide?'

“In twenty-four hours.”

Two more buyers showed up that day around sundown and both offered less than Sorrel and Manning. Each time, the men looked perplexed that Jack even thought there were better offers than theirs to be had in the country.

Seated cross-legged beside each other on the ground, eating supper, Jangles said to Jack, “I'm really learning this cattle-selling business. First you need an edge, like having all steers. Hell, if I'd done this myself, I'd have rounded them all up: cows, calves and big steers. I never knew it was that complicated, but I see why now. I've been watching herds go north since the war was over. They were all mixed, and now it's no wonder to me that some do good, but the majority lose their butts.”

“That's a big part of it. Men come here and get mad as hell because no one wants to give them anything for the rest of their stock.” Jack held out his cup for Ralph to refill it.

“Maybe we can finally get some sleep tonight,” his cook said as he poured the coffee.

Jack agreed. “I hope so too. I'm going in tomorrow to cut the best deal I can. These cattle need to be on a train.”

“Amen,” the crew said in unison.

“What will they weigh?” Jangles asked.

“I have no idea; but the scales will tell.”

“What are you guessing?”

“Seven fifty, maybe more. They're big cattle.”

Jack hardly slept. Cattle prices, weights, how to divide the money, how to pay the boys—he felt like he was on his side rolling off a tall, grassy hill, his thoughts bouncing around and getting mixed up in his head. If he could cut a profitable deal the folks of Little Dog Creek could be debt free and would never again have to work with back-pocket bankers like Sawyer.

Midmorning in Wichita, he found Sorrel in his tent. The man rose from behind his desk to greet him. Sunshine filtered through the canvas, giving off a dull yellow light.

“What did you decide?”

“Eleven cents, no shrink. You can cut back any crippled or sorry one you see—we'll help with that.”

“My gawd, that's high, Starr.”

“I'm going to a buyer right now who has already promised me that. You said you wanted first crack at them, but if you can't meet my price I'm gonna have to be on my way.”

Sorrel tapped a pencil on the desk, concentrating hard on the open flap. “Alright, I'll take them. You're a hard man to deal with, but I respect your commitment to fairness. I have cattle cars coming day after tomorrow. I'll order more. You should be loaded out in five days.”

They shook hands firmly.

“How much cash will you need here?” Sorrel asked.

“Five thousand to pay the boys and buy supplies.”

“The rest?”

“Cattleman's Bank, San Antonio, Texas. Let Wells Fargo deliver it.”

“That's close to where you live?”

“Close enough. I'm damn sure not packing it home. I want it deposited to Mr. and Mrs. Jack Starr, just in case. You have a bookkeeper I can hire to help me figure all this out?”