The Book of Cowboys

By C. Holling

Many of the earliest books, particularly those dating back to the 1900s and before, are now extremely scarce and increasingly expensive. We are republishing these classic works in affordable, high quality, modern editions, using the original text and artwork.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Read Books Ltd.
• Release date: Oct 17, 2011
• ISBN: 9781447492870

Book preview

CHAPTER I

RANCHMAN COMES TO TOWN

Peter and Barbara Ann Brandon lived in a tall apartment house in New York. From the windows of their home they could look down on the tops of trees growing in Central Park. Every morning before they left for school and every afternoon when they came home, they took their Scotch terrier, Biff, for a run through the park. And that was the only exercise and fresh air Biff got all through the spring and fall and winter. In summer the family moved to Easthampton, on Long Island, where they had a cottage not far from the ocean.

This was the way the children had been living ever since they could remember, and neither of them ever thought much about any other sort of life until one day Uncle Harry blew in, as he said, from his ranch in New Mexico.

Peter and Barbara Ann were doing their lessons in the living room late one afternoon when the doorbell rang.

It’s Mother; I’ll let her in, shouted Peter, jumping up.

No, I’ll let her in, said Barbara Ann.

They raced down the hall. But Nora, getting dinner in the kitchen, was nearest the door and opened it as they ran up. She was so surprised that she stepped back a little—for it was not Mrs. Brandon at all, but a man so tall that he seemed to fill the whole doorway.

Does Mrs. Brandon live here? he asked, politely, taking off his hat. Peter noticed that the hat was the kind of big, soft felt the cowboys wore in the movies.

Yes, sir, Nora answered, but she’s not at home just now.

Well, that’s too bad, said the stranger, in a big, cheerful voice, as though he were used to speaking out of doors instead of in the hallway of an apartment.

I bet I know who you are! shouted Peter, pushing in front of Nora.

The tall stranger bent down until his face was almost on a level with Peter’s.

Who am I? he asked in a sort of growl, but his eyes were smiling.

I bet you’re Uncle Harry, replied Peter.

Right first time, said the stranger, straightening up. I’m Mrs. Brandon’s brother, he explained to Nora. I’ll go in and get acquainted with my niece and nephew while I’m waiting.

Nora took the big hat from his hand, and he reached down and lifted Barbara Ann to his shoulder. She was so high that her head almost touched the ceiling as he walked toward the living room.

A ball of black fur unrolled itself in Father’s armchair, and Biff opened one eye. When he saw a strange man with Barbara on his shoulder, he got down and jumped about, making swift darts at Uncle Harry’s feet.

Arr-arr-arr, he barked.

And what’s this? Uncle Harry asked, lifting Barbara from his shoulder and bending over to look at the excited little animal.

That’s our dog, Biff, said the children together.

"Oh, a dog!" exclaimed Uncle Harry. Then he straightened up and began to laugh. Before they knew it Peter and Barbara Ann were laughing with him. Biff seemed to find a joke too, and barked joyfully while jumping and squirming around them all in circles.

He’s a fine watchdog, said Uncle Harry, waiting until I got into the house to bark at me!

Oh, he’s no good as a watchdog, Peter replied. He’d sleep through anything. He’s just a pet.

Barbara Ann had dropped down on the floor beside Biff.

Never mind, Biffie, she said. I don’t see anything to laugh at in you.

Uncle Harry stopped smiling and looked really sorry.

Shucks! he said. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, or yours. I like dogs a lot, but I’ve seldom seen such a small one with such short legs.

He sat in Father’s armchair and picked Biff up with one of his big hands.

Look out, shouted Peter. Sometimes he nips strangers.

But Biff had snuggled down against Uncle Harry’s vest and, putting out his little black tongue, began to lick his hands.

This is how Mother and Father found the newly made friends when they came home. And from then on until they sat down to Nora’s good dinner, there was a continual hubbub of voices and laughter, with Biff joining in whenever he found an opening.

And why in the world haven’t you visited us before? Mother was saying. It has been eight or nine years since you came East.

Just eight years, Uncle Harry replied. Peter was a little fellow running around and Barbara was still in the cradle. He smiled around the table. It isn’t that I haven’t thought of you all, often enough, he said, but I Just never seem to find time to leave the West. Between my ranch in New Mexico and my other one in Montana, it keeps me on the jump looking after them, and I seldom get out of sight of the Rocky Mountains.

And besides, said Mother, smiling back at him, you don’t like the city.

To tell the truth, Uncle Harry admitted, you’re right. I like plenty of room, and I dislike crowds, unless they’re crowds of cattle and horses. And the reason I’m here is to take you all, bag and baggage, back West with me for the summer. How about it?

Peter caught his breath. This was too good to be true. It was Barbara who said the first words, and they were, Can we take Biff?

You can bring anything you want, Uncle Harry assured her. There’s miles and miles of land out in New Mexico.

From then on all was confusion, with everyone wanting to talk at once, but Father got a word in.

How about Easthampton? he asked. New Mexico is desert country, and there won’t be any ocean for you youngsters to swim in.

Who cares about an ocean when you can go to a real ranch? cried Peter. We’ve been at the seashore ever since we were born. We’d rather be cowboys!

Well, I haven’t any objection, said Father. I will have to come back to my business sometime during the summer, but I’ll go out with you. Harry Morton, we’ll take you up on your proposition!

So it was arranged. And soon the whole family, including Biff, had left Nora in charge of the apartment, and boarded a train for far away New Mexico.

It was a fast train that carried them toward the place where the sun sets, and every day Peter and Barbara Ann saw new places. The lessons they had studied in their geographies began to come alive.

The train rushed through forests, roared over bridges, climbed puffing up one side of high ridges and slid easily down the other side. Small towns and large cities and farms flashed by, and then they were on the open plains, with red cattle grazing and men on horseback looking as small as toy soldiers, they were so far away.

Those are the first real cowboys, said Uncle Harry, pointing to the men on horseback. You’ll see plenty of them soon.

CHAPTER II

PETER AND BARBARA ANN

MEET SOME COWBOYS

Far ahead of the train one evening the children saw a blue line which looked like clouds, but which Uncle Harry said were mountains. The next morning when Barbara Ann looked out of the window, the mountains were everywhere. After breakfast the porter piled all their baggage by the door of their car, and Uncle Harry stood up and reached for his hat.

All out for the Circle Cross Ranch, he called.

When the train stopped, Peter jumped down and ran to the baggage car for Biff. There never was a gladder dog than that little black terrier was when he found himself with the family again, instead of in a baggage car, with only an occasional visit from one or another.

Three cowboys were busy loading the bags and trunks on to a motor truck. The children had never seen real cowboys close at hand before—except Uncle Harry. But Uncle Harry had put on Eastern clothes to go to New York, so he was dressed just as Father was, except for his big hat. These looked like real cowboys, with blue and gray shirts and scarlet and purple bandanas knotted about their necks and their faded blue overalls tucked into high-heeled boots.

Uncle Harry introduced a short, bowlegged one as Alkali Jones, a tall, slender one as Slim Sam, and a medium sized one as Texas Charlie. They were very solemn as they shook hands all round. Then they went back to loading trunks.

But they haven’t those big leather things on their legs, like the cowboys in the movies, whispered Barbara to her brother.

No, replied Peter. And they don’t wear spurs, either. I thought——

What did you think? asked a voice close behind. Both children turned around. The man who had spoken looked older than Uncle Harry or Father, because his eyes squinted and his tanned face was all deep lines and wrinkles. He was in overalls that fitted his legs tightly, and, standing as straight as he could, his legs were so bowed that you could have thrown a baseball between his knees.

Peter and Barbara Ann were so interested in looking at this stranger that they forgot to reply. But he didn’t seem to expect an answer, for he went right on speaking.

My name’s Jim, he said. I’m an old-timer hereabouts and I’ve been ranch foreman for your uncle for more years than you’ve been in the world. I’ve got a stake in the ranch myself—that is, I’m his pardner as well as his foreman. You just stick around me, if you want to know anything about cowboys, and I’ll answer all your questions. For instance, spurs and chaps—the big leather things Barbara here was talking about. Did you ever try to drive a car over a mountain with chaps or spurs on?

No, sir, I never did, replied Peter.

Well, if you had, said Jim, you’d know that the spurs get caught on the floor boards when you work the pedals and the chaps get tangled with the levers. Those things go with horses but not with automobiles. But you’ll see chaps and spurs aplenty, pardner, when you get to Circle Cross Ranch. And now you folks come with me, he said turning to Mother and Father. I’m driving you all in the big car.

Biff sat behind, in Uncle Harry’s arms. Peter and Barbara Ann sat in front with Jim.

Scared to go fast? Jim asked, turning toward the children.

No, sir, said Peter and Barbara Ann in one breath.

Don’t need to say ‘sir’ to me, laughed Jim. You just say plain ‘yes’ or plain ‘no.’ I don’t care for fancy fixings to words.

Yes, sir—I mean ‘Sure,’ said Peter, with a grin.

That’s better! Now,: as I was saying, it’s a good thing you ain’t scared to go fast, if you want to get to the Circle Cross in time for supper.

CHAPTER III

THROUGH EAGLE NEST PASS

The car leaped forward along an open road that wound over billowing plains. There were no fences and no buildings—just this black ribbon of oiled road running across the prairie sod.

Mercy! cried Mother, in the back seat. We’re going pretty fast, aren’t we?

Uncle Harry laughed. We always go fast out West, he said. "There are big spaces to cover. We think nothing of doing a hundred miles just to see a neighbor or borrow a pair of pliers. But Jim’s a good driver

Reviews for The Book of Cowboys

[harrymacdonald · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

All the Holling books are fine, but to my taste this one is weakened a little by two things. First, unless I miss my guess, the color-plates, though signed "The Hollings", are really by Louis,e and her style just doesn't warm the way her husband's does. Second, although the book is power-packed with information, good values, and other vital nutrients, the story on which all those are heaped is more than a little wooden, indeed recalling the worst excesses of The Bobsey Twins. Even so, it beats most kid's non-fiction, of that day and this, in cards and spades.