The Phantom Herd

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The Phantom Herd

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Title: The Phantom Herd
Author: B. M. Bower
Release Date: June 19, 2004 [eBook #12663]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE
PHANTOM HERD***
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THE PHANTOM HERD

BY B. M. BOWER
Author of Chip of the Flying-U, The Flying-U's Last Stand, The
Gringos, etc.
1916

FOREWORD
For the accuracy of certain parts of this story which deal most
intimately with the business of making motion pictures, I am indebted
to Buck Connor. whose name is a sufficient guarantee that all technical
points are correct. His criticism, advice and other assistance have been
invaluable, and I take this opportunity of expressing my appreciation
and thanks for the help he has given me.
B.M.BOWER.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I
THE INDIANS MUST GO
II "WHERE THE CATTLE ROAMED IN THOUSANDS, A-MANY
A HERD AND BRAND..."
III AND THEY SIGH FOR THE DAYS THAT ARE GONE
IV THE LITTLE DOCTOR PROTESTS
V A BUNCH OF ONE-REELERS FROM BENTLY BROWN
VI VILLAINS ALL AND PROUD OF IT

VII BENTLY BROWN DOES NOT APPRECIATE COMEDY
VIII "THERE'S GOT TO BE A LINE DRAWN SOMEWHERES"
IX LEAVE IT TO THE BUNCH
X UNEXPECTED GUESTS FOR APPLEHEAD
XI JUST A FEW UNFORESEEN OBSTACLES
XII "I THINK YOU NEED INDIAN GIRL FOR PICTURE"
XIII "PAM. BLEAK MESA--CATTLE DRIFTING BEFORE
WIND--"
XIV "PLUMB SPOILED, D'YUH MEAN?"
XV A LETTER FROM CHIEF BIG TURKEY
XVI "THE CHANCES IS SLIM AND GITTIN' SLIMMER"
XVII THE STORM
XVIII A FEW OF THE MINOR DIFFICULTIES
XIX WHEREIN LUCK MAKES A SPEECH
XX "SHE'S SHAPING UP LIKE A BANK ROLL"
CHAPTER ONE
THE INDIANS MUST GO
Luck Lindsay had convoyed his thirty-five actor-Indians to their
reservation at Pine Ridge, and had turned them over to the agent in
good condition and a fine humor and nice new hair hatbands and other
fixings; while their pockets were heavy with dollars that you may be
sure would not he spent very wisely. He had shaken hands with the
braves, and had promised to let them know when there was another job

in sight, and to speak a good word for them to other motion-picture
companies who might want to hire real Indians. He had smiled at the
fat old squaws who had waddled docilely in and out of the scenes and
teetered tirelessly round and round in their queer native dances in the
hot sun at his behest, when Luck wanted several rehearsals of
"atmosphere" scenes before turning the camera on them.
They hated to go back to the tame life of the reservation and to
stringing beads and sewing buckskin with sinew, and to gossiping
among themselves of things their heavy-lidded black eyes had looked
upon with such seeming apathy. They had given Luck an elaborately
beaded buckskin vest that would photograph beautifully, and three
pairs of heavy, beaded moccasins which he most solemnly assured
them he would wear in his next picture. The smoke-smell of their tepee
fires and perfumes still clung heavily to the Indian-tanned buckskin, so
that Luck carried away with him an aroma indescribable and
unmistakable to any one who has ever smelled it.
Just when he was leaving, a shy, big-eyed girl of ten had slid out from
the shelter of her mother's poppy-patterned skirt, had proffered three
strings of beads, and had fled. Luck had smiled his smile again--a smile
of white, even teeth and so much good will that you immediately felt
that he was your friend--and called her back to him. Luck was chief;
and his commands were to be obeyed, instantly and implicitly; that
much he had impressed deeply upon the least of these. While the
squaws grinned and murmured Indian words to one another, the big-eye
girl returned reluctantly; and Luck, dropping a hand to his coat pocket
while he smiled reassurance, emptied that pocket of gum for her. His
smile had lingered after he turned away; for like flies to an open syrup
can the papooses had gathered around the girl.
Well, that job was done, and done well. Every one was satisfied save
Luck himself. He swung up to the back of the Indian pony that would
carry him through the Bad Lands to the railroad, and turned for a last
look. The bucks stood hip-shot and