A Texas Matchmaker | Page 5

to break up those pleasant relations." Uncle Lance turned in
his chair, and, looking into the downcast countenance of Mr. Booth,
continued: "Do you know, Whit, that youngest girl of yours reminds
me of her aunt, my own Mary, in a hundred ways. I just love to have
your girls tear around this old ranch--they seem to give me back certain
glimpses of my youth that are priceless to an old man."
"That'll do, Lance," said Mr. Booth, rising and extending his hand. "I
don't want the money now. Your view of the matter is right, and our
friendship is worth more than a thousand cattle to me. Lizzie and the
girls were anxious to come with me, and I'll go right back and send
them down."

CHAPTER II
SHEPHERD'S FERRY

Within a few months after my arrival at Las Palomas, there was a dance
at Shepherd's Ferry. There was no necessity for an invitation to such
local meets; old and young alike were expected and welcome, and a
dance naturally drained the sparsely settled community of its
inhabitants from forty to fifty miles in every direction. On the Nueces
in 1875, the amusements of the countryside were extremely limited;
barbecues, tournaments, and dancing covered the social side of ranch
life, and whether given up or down our home river, or north on the Frio,
so they were within a day's ride, the white element of Las Palomas
could always be depended on to be present, Uncle Lance in the lead.
Shepherd's Ferry is somewhat of a misnomer, for the water in the river
was never over knee-deep to a horse, except during freshets. There may
have been a ferry there once; but from my advent on the river there was
nothing but a store, the keeper of which also conducted a road-house
for the accommodation of travelers. There was a fine grove for picnic
purposes within easy reach, which was also frequently used for
camp-meeting purposes. Gnarly old live-oaks spread their branches like
a canopy over everything, while the sea-green moss hung from every
limb and twig, excluding the light and lazily waving with every vagrant
breeze. The fact that these grounds were also used for camp-meetings
only proved the broad toleration of the people. On this occasion I
distinctly remember that Miss Jean introduced a lady to me, who was
the wife of an Episcopal minister, then visiting on a ranch near
Oakville, and I danced several times with her and found her very
amiable.
On receipt of the news of the approaching dance at the ferry, we set the
ranch in order. Fortunately, under seasonable conditions work on a
cattle range is never pressing. A programme of work outlined for a
certain week could easily be postponed a week or a fortnight for that
matter; for this was the land of "la mañana," and the white element on
Las Palomas easily adopted the easy-going methods of their Mexican
neighbors. So on the day everything was in readiness. The ranch was a
trifle over thirty miles from Shepherd's, which was a fair half day's ride,
but as Miss Jean always traveled by ambulance, it was necessary to
give her an early start. Las Palomas raised fine horses and mules, and

the ambulance team for the ranch consisted of four mealy-muzzled
brown mules, which, being range bred, made up in activity what they
lacked in size.
Tiburcio, a trusty Mexican, for years in the employ of Uncle Lance,
was the driver of the ambulance, and at an early morning hour he and
his mules were on their mettle and impatient to start. But Miss Jean had
a hundred petty things to look after. The lunch--enough for a
round-up--was prepared, and was safely stored under the driver's seat.
Then there were her own personal effects and the necessary dressing
and tidying, with Uncle Lance dogging her at every turn.
"Now, Sis," said he, "I want you to rig yourself out in something
sumptuous, because I expect to make a killing with you at this dance.
I'm almost sure that that Louisiana mule-drover will be there. You
know you made quite an impression on him when he was through here
two years ago. Well, I'll take a hand in the game this time, and if there's
any marry in him, he'll have to lead trumps. I'm getting tired of having
my dear sister trifled with by every passing drover. Yes, I am! The next
one that hangs around Las Palomas, basking in your smiles, has got to
declare his intentions whether he buys mules or not. Oh, you've got a
brother, Sis, that'll look out for you. But you must play your part. Now,
if that mule-buyer's there, shall I"--
"Why, certainly, brother, invite him to the ranch," replied Miss Jean, as