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In The Hands Of His Friends
by
We loaded the beeves out the next day, going back after two trains of “Turkey Track” cattle. While we were getting these out, Miller cut out two strays and a cow or two, and sent them to the horse pasture at the home camp. It was getting late in the fall, and we figured that a few more shipments would end it. Miller told the owners to load out what they wanted while the weather was fit, as our saddle horses were getting worn out fast. As we were loading out the last shipment of mixed cattle of our own, the letter came to Miller. Jack would return with his bride on a date only two days off, and the festivities were set for one day later. We pulled into headquarters that night, the first time in six weeks, and turned everything loose. The next morning we overhauled our Sunday bests, and worried around trying to pick out something for a wedding present.
Miller gave the happy pair a little “Flower Pot” cow, which he had rustled in the Cheyenne country on the round-up a few years before. Edwards presented him with a log chain that a bone-picker had lost in our pasture. Mouse gave Jack a four-tined fork which the hay outfit had forgotten when they left. Coon Floyd’s compliments went with five cow-bells, which we always thought he rustled from a boomer’s wagon that broke down over on the Reno trail. It bothered some of us to rustle something for a present, for you know we couldn’t buy anything. We managed to get some deer’s antlers, a gray wolf’s skin for the bride’s tootsies, and several colored sheepskins, which we had bought from a Mexican horse herd going up the trail that spring. We killed a nice fat little beef, the evening before we started, hanging it out over night to harden. None of the boys knew the brand; in fact, it’s bad taste to remember the brand on anything you’ve beefed. No one troubles himself to notice it carefully. That night a messenger brought a letter to Miller, ordering him to ship out the remnant of “Diamond Tail” cattle as soon as possible. They belonged to a northwest Texas outfit, and we were maturing them. The messenger stayed all night, and in the morning asked, “Shall I order cars for you?”
“No, I have a few other things to attend to first,” answered Miller.
We took the wagon with us to carry our bedding and the other plunder, driving along with us a cow and a calf of Jack’s, the little “Flower Pot” cow, and a beef. Our outfit reached Jack’s house by the middle of the afternoon. The first thing was to be introduced to the bride. Jack did the honors himself, presenting each one of us, and seemed just as proud as a little boy with new boots. Then we were given introductions to several good-looking neighbor girls. We began to feel our own inferiority.
While we were hanging up the quarters of beef on some pegs on the north side of the cabin, Edwards said, whispering, “Jack must have pictured this claim mighty hifalutin to that gal, for she’s a way up good-looker. Another thing, watch me build to the one inside with the black eyes. I claimed her first, remember. As soon as we get this beef hung up I’m going in and sidle up to her.”
“We won’t differ with you on that point,” remarked Mouse, “but if she takes any special shine to a runt like you, when there’s boys like the rest of us standing around, all I’ve got to say is, her tastes must be a heap sight sorry and depraved. I expect to dance with the bride–in the head set–a whirl or two myself.”
“If I’d only thought,” chimed in Coon, “I’d sent up to the State and got me a white shirt and a standing collar and a red necktie. You galoots out-hold me on togs. But where I was raised, back down in Palo Pinto County, Texas, I was some punkins as a ladies’ man myself–you hear me.”