Ted Strong in Montana | Page 2

boys and the force of cow-punchers whom they had employed to assist them.
Stella Fosdick, who, with her aunt, Mrs. Walter Graham, had accompanied the boys on their drive, now came galloping up to Ted. She had been riding beside the carriage in which her aunt had been comfortably traveling.
"Going to keep on, Ted?" she asked.
"Yes. Got to do it. Those clouds are full of snow. If it catches us down here we're likely to be snowed in, and if we do it's all up with the Circle S," he replied.
"That's bad."
"Oh, I guess we'll pull through all right, if we can keep the cows moving; but it is not going to be very comfortable for your aunt or you. We'll have to drive until the cattle refuse to move farther."
"I can stand it, and aunt will have to. She's getting a little anxious, though, and asked me to ride ahead to learn when we're going to stop. Poor auntie likes her comfort. I often wonder why she became the wife of a ranchman."
"Or why she consents to traipse all over the country with you," laughed Ted.
"Ted, she absolutely cannot refuse me a thing."
"So I see. You've got her hypnotized--as, indeed, you have all the rest of us. But ride back and cheer her up all you can. I told McCall, the cook, to make some good, strong coffee and to serve it to any of the boys who wanted it, as it will be some time before we can have supper. Have Mac take her a cup of good, strong coffee and something to eat. That may make her a little more cheerful."
"I'll do it. But don't you want some coffee, too?"
"Not for me. I've got something else to do right here. This is going to be a race between the herd and the snow clouds, and it means a whole lot to us."
"Afraid of being snowed in?"
"You bet. If this bunch of cattle gets snowed in I see our finish. We'll lose half of them before we get to the grass."
"I don't know a thing about the Northern range, and I can't see how you're going to bring that herd through to spring. It would take thousands of tons of hay, and I don't know how much corn to feed them."
Ted laughed.
"I see you don't know much about the North," he said. "But what should a girl brought up in Texas know of wintering cattle in the snow? You see, it's this way: Montana is the best winter cattle range in the United States.
"The winds from the mountains sweep the snow, which is dry and loose, from the high, level ground, exposing the grass which has been cured on the ground, and which makes the best kind of feed. Then there is plenty of water, and the deep coulees, with which the country is cut up, afford ample protection for the cattle during storms.
"Occasionally there comes warm winds from the northwest. These are called chinook winds, because they come from the direction of the country of the Chinook Indians. They are warm and balmy, and melt the snow as if by magic. Their warmth is caused by having come in contact with the Japanese stream, which crosses the Pacific Ocean, after being warmed in the sunny East, and which strikes the shores of North America along about south Alaska. This stream is called by the Japanese, Kuro Siwo. It is the equivalent of the Gulf Stream, which leaves the Gulf of Mexico to cross the Atlantic and warm the shores of Great Britain."
"Quite a lecture," said Stella, laughing.
"I didn't mean to lecture," replied Ted, laughing also, "but I wanted you to know why it is that it is a good thing to winter cattle in this north country. In the first place it puts strength and stamina into the cattle, and makes the beef better, and all the conditions of which I have spoken make it possible to keep cattle on the open range out here, where one would think they would perish of cold and starvation. But it is no picnic to run a winter range, as we will all learn before spring comes again."
"I understand now, and I'm sure I shall enjoy the experience. But I must go back to aunt and jolly her up, for she is easily discouraged, and she is no more used to rough winters than I."
"She'll be all right when we get to Long Tom, for there is a bully ranch house there, and she'll be as snug as a bug in a rug when we get settled."
The cattle were going forward over the gentle, rising ground, being pushed by the punchers in the rear and the fellows on the side lines, while Ted and Kit were pointing them in the direction