The Settling of the Sage | Page 6

tentatively. "Evans is the
rest of it."
The stranger hesitated appreciably; then:
"Harris will do all right for me--Cal for every day," he returned and
introductions had been effected. It was up to each man to use his own
individual method of making his name known to the newcomer as
occasion arose.
There had been much speculation about the brand worn by the two
horses. The hands were a drifting lot, gathered from almost as many
points as there were men present, but none of them knew the brand.
A dark, thin-faced man with a slender black mustache was the first to
voice a query, not from the fact that his curiosity was large--it was
perhaps less than that of any other man in the room--but for the reason
that he chose to satisfy it at once. Morrow's personality was cold and
bleak, inviting no close friendships or intimacies; uncommunicative to
a degree that had impressed itself on his companions of the last few
days and they looked up, mildly surprised at his abrupt interrogation.
"Box L," he commented. "Where does that brand run?"
"Southwest Kansas and Oklahoma," the stranger answered.
"Squatter country," Morrow said. "Every third section under fence."

Harris sat looking through the door at the valley spread out below and
after a moment he answered the thrust as if he had been long prepared
for it.
"Yes," he said. "And that's what all range country will come to in a few
more years; farm what they can and graze what they can't--and the
sooner the better for all concerned." He waved an arm down the valley.
"Good alfalfa dirt going to waste down there--overrun with sage and
only growing enough grass to keep ten cows to the quarter. If that was
ripped up and seeded to hay it would grow enough to winter five
thousand head."
This remark led to the old debate that was never-ending in the cow
country, breaking out afresh in every bunk house and exhaustively
rediscussed. There were men there who had viewed both ends of the
game,--had seen the foremost outfits in other parts tearing up the sage
and putting in hay for winter feed and had seen that this way was good.
Evans regarded Harris curiously as he deliberately provoked the
argument, then sat back and listened to the various ideas of the others
as the discussion became heated and general. It occurred to Evans that
Harris was classifying the men by their views, and when the argument
lagged the lean man grinned and gave it fresh impetus.
"It's a settled fact that the outfits that have put in hay are better off," he
said. "But there's a dozen localities like this, a dozen little civil wars
going on right now where the inhabitants are so mulish that they lay
their ears and fight their own interests by upholding a flea-bit prejudice
that was good for twenty years ago but is a dead issue to-day."
"And why is it dead to-day?" Morrow demanded. "And not as good as
it always was?"
"Only a hundred or so different reasons," Evans returned indifferently.
"Then beef-tops brought ten dollars a head and they're worth three
times that now; then you bought a brand on the hoof, come as they run,
for round five dollars straight through, exclusive of calves; now it's
based at ten on the round-up tally. In those days a man could better

afford to let part of his cows winter-kill than to raise feed to winter the
whole of them through--among other things. These days he can't."
"And have your water holes fenced," Morrow said. "As soon as you let
the first squatter light."
"The government has prohibited fencing water holes necessary to the
adjacent range," Harris cut in. "If that valley was mine I'd have put it in
hay this long time back."
"But it wasn't yours," Morrow pointed out.
"No; but it is now, or at least a part of it is," Harris said. "I picked up
that school section that lays across the valley and filed on a home
quarter that butts up against the rims." He sat gazing indifferently out
the door as if unconscious of the dead silence that followed his remark.
More men had drifted in till nearly a dozen were gathered in the room.
"That's never been done out here--buying school sections and filing
squatter's rights," Morrow said at last. "This is cow country and will
never be anything else."
"Good cow country," Harris agreed. "And it stands to reason it could be
made better with a little help."
"Whenever you start helping a country with fence and plow you ruin it
for cows," Morrow stated. "I know!"
"It always loomed up in the light of a good move to me," the newcomer
returned. "One of