Red Saunders Pets and Other Critters | Page 3

[Illustration: "I wisht somebody'd telegraph that son-of-a-gun for me."]
"Well, then he'd be chilly and reckon he'd climb under the stove. But
Thomas 'ud be there.
"'H-h-h-h-hhhh!' says Tom, in a whisper.
"'Er-raow-pht!" says Robert. 'Mmmmm-mm--errrrr--pht!' And so on for
some time, the talk growing louder, then, with a yell that would stand
up every hair on your head, Bob 'ud hop him. Over goes the cook-stove.
Away rolls the hot coals on the floor. Down comes the stove-pipe and
the frying-pans and the rest of the truck, whilst the old Judge in the
corner hollered decisions, heart-broke because he was tied by the leg
and could not get a claw into the dispute.
[Illustration: Bob 'ud hop him.]
"By the time we had 'em separated--Bob headed up in his barrel and
Tom tied up in his sack--put the fire out, and fixed things generally,
there wasn't a great deal left of that night's rest.
"But children will be children. We swore awful, still we wouldn't have

missed their company for a fair-sized farm.
"And now comes in the first little twist of the Big Bend Ranch,
proper--all these things I'm telling you were the eggs. Here's where the
critter pipped.
"'Twas November, and such a November as you don't get outside of
Old Dakota, a regular mint-julep of a month, with a dash of summer, a
sprig of spring, a touch of fall, and a sniff or two of winter to liven you
up. If you'd formed a committee to furnish weather for a month, and
they'd turned out a month like that, not even their best friends would
have kicked. And here we'd been makin' hay, and makin' hay, the ranch
people thanking Providence that prairie grass cures on the stem, while
we cussed, for we were sick of the sight of hay. I got so the rattle of a
mower give me hysterics. We were picked because we were steady and
reliable, but one day we bunched the job. Says I, 'Here; we've cut grass
for four solid months, includin' Sundays and legal holidays, although
the Lord knows where they come in, for I haven't the least suspicion
what day of the month it may be, but anyhow, let's knock off one
round.'
"So we did. I sat outside in the afternoon, while the other two boys and
the rest of the family took a snooze. Here comes a man across the south
flat a-horseback.
"I watched him, much interested: first place, he was the first strange
human animal we'd laid eye on for six weeks; next place, his style of
riding attracted attention. I thought at the time he must have invented it,
him being the kind of man that hated horses, and wanted to keep as far
away from them as possible, yet forced by circumstances to climb upon
their backs."
[Illustration: His style of riding attracted attention.]
"His mount was a big American horse, full sixteen hand high, trotting
in twenty-foot jumps. If I had anything against a person, just short of
killing, I'd tie him on the back of a horse trotting like that. It's a great
gait to sit out. Howsomever, this man didn't sit it out; what he wanted

of a saddle beyond the stirrups was a mystery, for he never touched it.
He stood up on his stirrups, bent forward like he was going to bite the
horse in the ear, soon's the strain got unendurable.
"Well, here he come, straight for us. I'd a mind to wake the other boys
up, to let 'em see something new in the way of mishandling a horse, but
they snored so peaceful. I refrained.
"'How-de-do?' says he.
"I said I was worrying along, and sized him up, on the quiet. He was a
queer pet. Not a bad set-up man, and rather good looking in the face.
Light yellow hair, little yellow moustache, light blue eyes. And clean!
Say, I never saw anybody that looked so aggravating clean in all my
life. It seemed kind of wrong for him to be outdoors; all the prairie and
the cabin and everything looked mussed up beside him.
"As soon as he opened up, I noticed he had a little habit of speaking in
streaks, that bothered me. I missed the sense of his remarks.
"'Would you mind walking over that trail again?' I asked him. 'I do
most of my thinking at a foot-step and your ideas is over the hill and far
away before I can recognise the cut of their scalp-lock.'
"'Haw!' says he and stared at me. I was just on the point of askin' him if
red hair was a new thing to him, when all of a sudden he begun to
laugh, 'Haw-haw-haw!' says he; 'not bad at all, ye know.'