The Old West Adventures of Ornery and Slim: Back in the Saddle Again

By Montana Kid Hammer

Montana Kid Hammer continues his distinct brand of American old fashion storytelling tradition with, Back in the Saddle Again, the second novel in The Old West Adventures of Ornery and Slim cowman series. Ornery, a schoolteacher and Civil War survivor turned veteran cowhand, and Slim, a young Philadelphia orphan now a part learned cowman continue to ride for the brand simply known as the O U T (Oh-Ewe-Tee) Spread.

Their partnership is rekindled as they are back in their saddles again to face down cantankerous critters, the harsh western prairie elements, the lay of the land, payroll robbing outlaws, run away stagecoaches, countless dangers of a cattle drive, a cow hunt, along with some not so common cowmen calamities. Ornery and Slim labor to craft an ongoing relationship with the boss, their many pards, and their calico-gal friends, all while building a hearty proficiency around the cow craft of their day.

The setting for this storybook is far less fictional and happens on the high plains of the very real North American frontier west, circa 1880s. Also shared is that time-honored cattlemans code of the west, the one so highly prevalent in the folk of the era, and played out by this tomes many matchless characters. Conveyed are humorous escapades of the cowmen as they ply their cow craft for the brand. The anecdotal happenings are said so as to expose the wide range of cowman endeavors encountered along the trails and upon the plains of that very same unsettled frontier.

This novel is designed to rekindle fond recollections of Old West evenings sat around campfires to a plethora of untold, yet hair-raising cowman tales. Here is a genuinely marvelous opportunity to return to those wild and wooly days of Americas western yesteryear.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 8, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452027104

Montana Kid Hammer

Montana Kid Hammer, Kid, is a Montana native, author and educator whose abode is nestled in the hills just north of Fairbanks, Alaska. He enjoys horseback riding, snow and water skiing, hunting, history studies, and traveling far flung across the American West. Kid has a family, is a retired military man, and has lived and traveled in the region of which he writes. Schooled at Eastern Montana College, Embry-Riddle Aeronautical Institute, the Community College of the Air Force and the Institute of Children's Literature, he is self-published locally in Fairbanks with an Old West short-story volume, several poetry volumes, and has sent submissions to Cowboy Chronicle of Single Action Shooting Society. Kid is also a nationally recognized novelist by his Ornery and Slim storybook series. He is an NRA Certified Instructor and Life member, a Life member of the Single Action Shooting Society, a Life member of the Golden Heart Shootist Society of Fairbanks, and holds a Colonelcy in the Honorable Order of Kentucky Colonels. Kid teaches NRA Firearm Safety courses and the Alaska State Conceal Carry classes, does his Cowboy in the Classroom and US Civil War Living History presentations for folks of all ages as his way of sharing this most marvelous time in American history with peoples of the twenty-first century. He is richly blessed for his doing of such informative topics. Follow Kid’s many exploits at: www.montanakidhammer.com and on Face Book.

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Contents

Introduction

Acknowledgement

AUTHOR’S DISCLAIMER

DEDICATION

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

Chapter XIII

Glossary

About the Illustrator: Mr. Jonathan Harrison

Introduction

The timeframe of this story is post-1881; Chester A. Arthur has supplanted the recently assassinated James A. Garfield as the new US President. The Wyoming Territory, now nearly 15 years old, was designated a US Territory on July 25, 1868, and is the home of the (fictitious) cattle ranch, The O U T Spread; and may very well be located in the very non-fictional Crook County of that same territory. This is at a time when – in large part – the all-summer cattle drives of 3,000 plus head of cattle trailing out of Texas, via any number of trails, heading north to central plains railheads or upper plains greener grasses, had all but come to an end on the frontier west of North America.

In this region, during the period of the early 1880’s, cattle were transported by steam-propelled locomotive trains of the steel rails or steam-powered paddleboats along a number of waterways within the Upper Missouri River Basin. These cattle herds were being moved to markets back east, like Chicago, the Indian and Military Reservations of the west; or by trusted cowmen trailing short herds to local customers.

These herds were driven to river and railhead communities from the region’s ranches by the cow crafting and ever faithful cow drovers. Many of these cowmen were former range drovers from the cattle drives of a decade earlier and from that form of cow crafting. Plenty were Texian, or former Civil War veterans or both; former southern Negro slaves nearly by a third in number records indicate; European immigrates and eastern urban orphans; the Plains Indian and Spanish-Mexican; and men simply out for a dollar-a-day wage, three square meals per day, and high adventure; men some fair, some foul. This is just a thumbnail sketch of the personalities that came to range and ranch on the vast and rugged frontier prairies - the men simply known to the world as the legendary American cowboy, for whom there is no shortage of books, tales, stories, movies, and radio and television shows, telling about them and their many exploits, real and mythic.

The O U T Spread, home to Mister Oliver Ulysses Tucker, and of Ornery and Slim, and the nearby [fictional] cow town of Well Springs are the setting for the many and varied adventures of the complete cast that entertain the storybook pages of The Old West Adventures of Ornery and Slim – Back in the Saddle Again. mkh

Acknowledgement

This cowman novelist would love to share a very special heartfelt thanks to the ‘prairie-covered’ sea of first-time fans from around the world who made The Old West Adventures of Ornery and Slim - The Partnership such a first-time publishing success. My second novel would not have been possible without your gracious support of this first book, and without your goodly feedback to encourage me forward with this Old West cowman series.

I share my unbridled excitement in introducing to you my most marvelous storybook editor, Miss Lady Caity. She is new on staff to the Ornery and Slim franchise and has lent tremendous input to my latest works. For those of you already familiar with The Partnership, her guiding hand upon my newest written endeavor will be most evident, most immediately. I so wished I had had her on staff from day one, yet am thrilled beyond verbal expression to have her skills in-house presently. I think you will be too. If a writing project should require a resident angel for literary success, mine is found in her. Simply said, my novels would be unreadable without her guiding ‘red pen’ of correction. Yet, know that any errors remaining in this book are mine and mine alone.

Discovering just how important pictorial expression is to a storybook’s success, I am truly excited to introduce to you this novel’s most talented illustrator, Jonathan Harrison. In the same vein as Miss Lady Caity, I pray you shall immediately recognize and truly appreciate Mr. Harrison’s immense pictorial contribution to this storybook. I sincerely hope you will find as much pleasure as I do in what he brings to these many chapters with his gifted and talented drawings. He says with pictures what I am not able to express with my pen. I am immeasurably honored to have him and his artistic talent attend these many stories for you. Also, I am enormously grateful to Mr. Ladd McBride of Fairbanks, Alaska as well, for his superb pictorial contribution to this novel, shooting the pictures for the About the Editor and About the Author pages.

Likewise, I find myself in much gratitude to two brothers, Joseph and Wyatt for their wonderful underlying contribution to my story-designing via the time we spend in the study of our Creator-God, history, language arts, and science; the study of all these fields, with their inputs, labor to strengthen my writing abilities and knowledge base.

I would be extremely remiss should I never mention my particularly fond appreciation to former Alaskan Governor and friend, Sarah Palin for being an inspiration for me in getting my material published, starting with The Partnership. Her decision to realignment the date of the 2008 Alaska Permanent Fund Dividend furnished me the initial capital to launch Ornery and Slim for all of you. Thank you, Sarah!

Finally, it has been a long time dream to produce storybooks for my fans in a collaborative format, and thanks to all of the afore mentioned names here; the local writer, local illustrator, local editor, local photographer, local researchers and friends, and perhaps someday soon, a local publisher from Fairbanks, Alaska, we have been able to showcase the Last Frontier to a 21st Century world in a 19th Century flavor. So now I believe my team and I are well on our way to fulfilling this long time dream.

AUTHOR’S DISCLAIMER

This is the unofficial Cowboy Surgeon General’s warning to my readership:

THIS NOVEL READS LIKE A 19th CENTURY COWBOY WROTE IT,

and recommended to be read slow and gentle as if that very same cowboy was telling it to you in an oral storytelling tradition.

Also,

This novelist is in no way responsible to those of his reading audience who may be carried back in time to the world of Ornery and Slim, and then find no desire to return once again to the time or place of the present.

(My very special thanks to Dakota Livesay, editor of Chronicles of the Old West, for permitting me to borrow on a version of his so aptly shared expression that is the sum of my above statement.)

A special note of interest to young adult educators: The Ornery and Slim adventure series is written with you in mind. Upon recommendation by other like-minded educators, and from my own personal reading disparities, I designed this novel series with double spaced lines, heavy block font, and high contrast black-n-white letter facing in the hope that by doing so this book series might lend itself to your classrooms and libraries as highly sought after literary resource. If nothing else, I pray that the many adventures found therein shall be sufficient inspiration to draw in readers of all ages to come ‘live-in-the-Old-West’ with Ornery and Slim.

I wish to impart to adults in advance that within the pages of this novel there are several chapters (Chapter’s 2, 5, and 12), containing some moderately mature subject matter that may require some address from parents or teachers upon some of my younger readership. That said, this subject matter was not placed here for any other purpose than to convey, that, which was a part of the world of these storybook characters and their storyline development.

DEDICATION

To Berry Woman and Wind Drifter

For teaching me so much about the Alaska lifestyle that I have truly come to enjoy and depend upon, and for being my family’s dear family all of the years we have lived in Fairbanks, of the Last Frontier.

I would not be in Alaska still without their help and their most gracious friendship.

Thank you ever so much!

Chapter I

Slim’s Spring Cow Hunt

With winter shrugged off and all the snow gone from the wide-open range, Ornery and Slim, and the rest of the O U T (Oh, Ewe, Tee) boys were where they so oft’ preferred to be, back in the saddle again ranging for the cows of the Spread. Now Slim figured himself far better schooled than late last spring when he was brand new to the outfit, and he was very ready for a passel load of fresh cow lessons. To date he had learned how to survive snowstorms and blizzards, shootings by friend and foe alike, habanera pepper powder, cattle thieves, and a brush with romance. But now he was facing the big spring ‘to do’ that Ornery and others had been promising him all winter long – the spring cow hunt – and which was finally at hand. That said, a brand new frontier of adventure was flung wide open for the entire outfit.

Slim, who was guv the birth handle, Francis Ezekiel Slimmery, and was a Philadelphia-born orphan, had answered an employment ad to come west to work for Mr. Oliver Ulysses Tucker’s ranch, the O U T Spread shortly after the spring cow hunt the year previous, thereby missing this major ranch event. He had been guv to chores at the main ranch because for his green-ness, and not permitted to have much to do with the fall round up that year either. A year of cow crafting with his mentor and saddle pard Patrick Jason O’Connor, better known as Ornery, would soon tell on Slim and his capabilities, as the round up, or cow hunt as nigh on all the veteran cowmen called it, was, after all, fairly tough business for a greener. Now everyone, including Slim, pondered this ponder, was this half tried buckaroo up for the hunt? Time and deed would surely tell on him.

Fishing for facts, Slim asked Ornery what was so very special about this springtime event and Ornery explicated it in this manner to the lad, The cow hunt was cuz ‘er ranch, an’ t’others, are a vast prairie; unfenced, you see, with da scattered beeves o’ many brands as it oft’ played out. The cattle wander around, minglin’ about, doin’ a cow’s business. This is da time win da local cow bosses git busy an’ gather in their herds from off da range fer markin’ an’ tallyin’. We call dis da spring cow hunt, fer we hunt ‘er ranges until ever’ cow is found an’ collected. This is now yer time o’ testin’, da testin’ o’ yer cow craft skills an’ whether all we’ve learned together will make ta prove us out, save da herd an’ turn da ranch a fair profit later on.

Again perplexed, Slim asked Ornery, How does a saddler know which new born critter belongs ta which brand fer sure, bein’s it ain’t born-ed with no brand?

That’s a fair-good question, lad, said Ornery, da new born nigh on stays near ta its mother bovine usually an’ by da brand o’ da mother comes by, dat brand is guv ta dat calf ya’ see? When there’s no heifer found with da calf, it is set aside an’ divided up among brands o’ ‘em same grasses at a time later, lest it can be figured by breed ta da appropriate brand. This isn’t always da way o’ da territory stock association figures it, but we goodly cowmen reckon dis ta be a purdy fair way o’ doin’ thin’s ‘mong ourselves. It seems ta meet with da needs o’ all these here local outfits purdy well too.

Later, the ranch foreman, Cap’n Stewart, mostly ever called the segundo by the cowhands of the outfit, corralled all his hired hands to the big barn to share with them the what fer-n-who’d do what matters. There would be the wranglers, the cowhands, the flankers, the branding teams, cooks, and all such like folk to make up the team to achieve a successful cow hunt. With all of the plan and instructions lined out to the boys of the brand, they took to making it happen and put the hunt party together for the trail as ordered.

Short of the cattle drive to the river or a railhead later on in the year, or a range war, no other single outdoor event took on the likes of that which was the big spring round up. Slim was plum pleasured to being out of winter and back to his saddle nigh on full time with this cow caused commotion. As for Ornery, well, he was a top hand, a learned cowman, and could take it or leave it, though he was pleasured to spend less time in the bunkhouse and line shacks tinkering, mending, and fiddling with nothing, and more time up in the saddle pounding the range where he felt the most at home and more of use as all good cowmen ought.

Some of the town’s women, the boy’s favorite-d calicos, turned out to see their men off on this their big springtime adventure. These gals included Miss Shannon Emory, the town seamstress; Miss Denise Ellington, the local nurse; Miss Lisa Brennan, the town schoolmarm; and their new friend, Miss Felicity McCray, the town apothecary’s daughter, who took a shine to Chance Yocum. Actually, the gals made more of a send off for the fellars than was called upon them, and the boys, though ever grateful to see their gals, were, in their usual laconic cowman fashion, simply ready to commence to goin’ and gittin’ things done and not be bothered by pomp and ceremony as it were.

Off went a good stead of the O U T cowhands; a crew comprised of the upper ranch echelon, that of Cap’n Stewart, the boss, the Yellowstone Kid, stock detective and top hands Charlie Spragg, Fletch Thompson, and Ornery. There was also a string of tried and true saddlers; Roy Covington, Kit Allison, Tommy Gardner, Hat Carrington, Cy Abbott, Simple, Jack Selford, Sack Thomas, Benny Wilson, Chance Yocum, and young Slim. Smelly, a summer hire fellar would meet up with them later. Lastly, there was Mr. Samuelson; Coosie, on the chuck wagon; Moze Jones, first cook’s helper on the bed wagon, Wyatt Kilpatrick, the outfit’s day wrangler and second cook’s helper, along with Willie Slack, the night wrangler.

The boys put off for the pastures and hills of the Spread’s west and nor’ west corners. The cow hunt was to be done around the whole spread one section at a time. First, they would fetch cows in the north and west parts of the ranch with the boys of the Johnson and Twenty Spreads respectively.

When some days had passed and all the work was done in the first section, the whole operation would move from west to south, then south to east, and so forth, until the entire territory was completely covered. And if’n all went well, not much more than two to three weeks or so in the saddle would be spent on the open plain, and they would be all used up of this springtime hunting chore. But for now they would trail off to their very first rally point and wait for the rest of the outfits to join on with them before commencing the actual hunt.

On the first day out, the crew witnessed for their own the heavens in a dark overcast covering and a stout breeze that drove at them a light, yet steady rain. It was not what the outfit was much pleasured to as the O U T boys headed for their rendezvous with the likes of the Johnson outfit and the Double X boys.

On the morning of the second day, snow was cascading from the heavens and marriage-d up to that which was already lightly leftover—the old patches of hard crusty snow and ice from earlier in the season meeting with the fresh wet stuff of spring. Slim figured this to be one swell cow hunt if’n they had to hunt cows in the snow; yet he was a funning when he implied ‘swell’, for it was gonna be just another miserably cold chore here in the wind, ice and snow. How-some-ever, the snow would show off cow tracks and that had to count for something of worth so’s he reckoned when tracking down beeves.

Later, Tommy Gardner and his horse wrecked when they come across a large smooth flat rock, unseen in the snow cover and slanted a mite and sheeted in very thin ice. Both man and horse were bummed up from their slip and tip over; fortunately neither one came too serious injury for their ice rink ordeal. From the way it happened, Tommy knew he was gonna be feeling the spill the rest of the roundup, even with Cookie’s miraculously wondrous remedies applied. Following this mishap, and by the end of the second day, all parties was joined up together and the first part of the O U T Spread cow hunting did commence with the aid of the Johnson and Twenty Spread saddlers.

The third day was sunny, fairly warm, with a balmy breeze and just about the way the boys liked it when they were a plying their trade to cattle of the prairie grasses. When one of the new Johnson hands commented, ‘how rough things was about cow camp,’ Cap’n Stewart swiftly countered, This place ain’t half da hardship dat t’was Texas back in da early cow huntin’ days win feral cows would up an’ run ya’ down. This, jus’ followin’ dat thar War-between-the-States, too. Those words purdy much quelled any such chatter about just how rough conditions at roundup camp were and all such thought upon the very same.

Later in the afternoon, Ornery and Slim rode in and kicked down from their saddles and passed their ponies to Wyatt. A strange cowman sauntered passed Slim, and with his passing, Slim whirled about and stood for a time a look of heavy disgust writ hard across his face.

What’s dat miserable odor, Ornery?

Slim, dat’s not no odor, dat’s ‘Smelly’, he’s a summer hand o’ ‘er herd an’ drifts ‘bout da range in da winter time, a line rider, if’n he ain’ in Deadwood City.

Where’d he come from most recently an’ why’s he so seriously smelly?

He’s Jim Kelly of Dodge City, Kansas, and will summer o’er at ‘er ol’ No. 5 line shack. Smelly don’t like ta go near rain or inee water o’ no kind fer da ‘fear o’ pneumonia,’ says he. But I think it’s cuz he uses his hygiene so’s ta deal with his fear o’ calicos an’ their gittin’ too close ta his money, mostly. His smell jus’ ta cast ‘em off, if’n ya’ fetch my meanin’. Even his horse, Spud, can’t stand him much. How-some-ever, weez a way o’ takin’ care o’ him here at camp, so jus’ keep an wide eye out an’ stay outta da way, okay? Slim replied, With dat smell I won’t be in his way, no way, an’ I reckon we’re burnin’ down No. 5 win he’s done o’ it, right?

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After supper was done up, five very capable cowhands loitered about camp doing busy work and keeping a low keyed watchful eye on Smelly as he sat stinking at the campfire and watching its flames. Without warning Cap’n, Cy, Chance, Hat, and Benny converged on Smell and they grabbed a hold of him. Smelly went wild, like a mountain cat; clawing, kicking, biting, twisting and fighting them boys hard so’s to be done of them. The five fought with deathly dogged determination to keep hold of this sturdy wild man as they took him down to the creek. As the boys went they knocked off his hat, pulled off his boots; leaving him in his miserably ripe, filth ridden, bug infested and tattered togs, reckoned Smelly to be a buffalo hunter fresh from the hunt by his ripe aroma-ed personage. Sitting his saddle once more, Cap’n Stewart hanged his latigo lasso about Smelly so’s to keep him fast. The boys dragged the man to the water of the nearby creek, and Hat, with a brick solid bar of lye-soap, rubbed all over the odiferous character heartily with it like he was enjoying it, and he was in fact. That cold water and stinging soap put some more fight into Smelly and those lice-bugs, but he soon tired from all of his resisting as they cut him go and Cap’n pulled Smelly downstream by horse and rope a short distance for a thorough rinsing.

After the rinse of this bath, they repeated the soap – with a stiff bristle brush this time – and away the Cap’n went, again, down and back up the creek. The bugs and pieces of underclothing that had stuck to his body earlier were now banished, and they dragged Smelly up on the creek bank. Smelly found a towel, his hat, two pair of socks, a new pair of boots, two union suits, blouses and trousers, and some skin salve for his freshly cleaned and rough scuffed up hide.

Smelly sat catching his wind; and while he dried himself off he swore the revenge of death on the whole crew for this act, like he had done other seasons previous. Everyone listened and took in his passionate words, but none took him serious for they knew he loved the attention, and the new togs, the same ones they would be washing off him next spring, if’n he showed for the cow hunt then. The next morning, the fresh smelling Smelly was ready to guv a hand to the boys of the herd just like nothing had ever happened. Slim, his nose no longer heavily offended, and Smelly soon got to be fast pards, both in skill and wit during rest of the roundup, before Slim went north and Smelly, south after the hunt.

The O U T boys all built their saddles light; a trusty rope, revolver, rain slicker and short saddlebags so’s to work the cows while the rest of their gear, like bedrolls, war bags, winter coats and the likes went in one of the two wagons that was assigned to the roundup team.

Two or three chuck wagons were manned and run by the brands laboring their area for the entire two or better weeks of roundup. There was plenty of coffee, rice, beans, biscuits, Johnny cakes, flap jacks, potatoes and bacon for breakfast; air tights, like peaches and apricots, and so much more would grace the working man’s plate, daily. Cookie also whipped up pies, fruit cobblers, and fresh venison stew most nights for supper, as was his manner. Mr. Tucker, as he had done all for his soldiers years ago, and now for his cowmen, was particular about victuals being first rate for his working crews, and especially during roundup, as he knew his ‘army’ lived and labored better by its belly. The weather and the activities commanded it and the boss saw that the food always met with the crew’s demands of labor and their palate.

Cookie was the first to rise up, well before first light to fetch breakfast. He oft’ worked in the morning darkness by a lantern to rustle up his initial meal. He had a long day, for he started before the crew who worked the cows from dawn to dusk did. Basically, he was the first man up and the last to bed down in a day’s time, having Willie’s assistance in the very early morning, Wyatt’s assistance in the evening, and Moze’s help by mid-day.

Moze was the teamster for the bedroll wagon and usually trailed right along behind the chuck wagon. His wagon was filled with the crew’s bedrolls, war bags, and much sundry supplies and equipment not kept in the chuck wagon, yet needed for both wagons and crew. Now Moze, a Negro man raised to a Georgia plantation before the war, was a handyman, a jack-of-all-trades by and large, and yet he could handle a horse in the herd, or a gun in the hand as easily as he could cook and clean for Cookie. He helped out any time and place the situation demanded, and he was mighty pleasured up to do so. He was a jolly soul and near always had a song on his lips or whistled up a snappy tune, a true friend to all.

Then there was the outfit’s wranglers who maintained the remuda – the ranch’s collection of cow working ponies – for the saddlers all the day round. Day or night the wranglers kept the saddlers in fresh riding stock for their time out on the hunt. That was the wrangler’s primary job, when they was not toiling for Cookie, or helping Moze, or subbing on the herd for another injured cowman, heaven forbid. When the boys finished up on one part of the prairie, they moved their operation on to the next section and repeated the whole process all over again, until all the new calves and strays was marked up properly. They did this until the whole region, their Spreads in whole, was done up.

Early one morning Cookie called out, Grub! Come git it while it’s hot! Slim, along with the rest of the day crew, threw open their bedrolls. Hastily, they proceeded to fetch on their boots and line up for breakfast. The boys wasted little time shoveling in and chasing down victuals with cups of hot belly wash. As they grubbed up, Cap’n Stewart guv them boys their assignments, usually by pairs of cowmen. Once the boys were fed, they stowed their soiled dishes and utensils in the wreck pan, took their cup back to their saddle and got to their horses so’s to complete their assigned chores, keeping mindful to never bring a pony directly into the fire pit area. In a round-robin work fashion that would better use time and space, some headed to fetch their morning pony, while others put together their bedrolls and stowed them in the bedroll wagon. Others fetched water to their canteens for the long day from the chuck wagon’s water barrel. Then in accordance to the plan, them saddlers fanned out to gather in the unmarked beeves wherever they might be found. As the day crew departed, the nighthawks – the cowmen watching over the camp, the horses, and herd by night – came in for their turn at chuck wagon and a nap.

Slim was highly pleasured to be guv by to work with Ornery, and they worked like a well-oiled machine. That was Cap’n Stewart’s well-meant intention to keep his best-paired teams saddled up together, guaranteeing the successful and timely outcome of their cowman labor. It was also in keeping with Slim’s O U T mentorship. Slim had learned his string, his lasso, from Ornery and he could hit the head or heels of cows going either way. Ornery was pleased for that, cuz it made Slim a more useful soul. It made Ornery look good too, for all of that mentoring of his upon Slim. All this rope work came by its handiness when, as a team, it came to catching beeves, tipping them over for to having the new calves’ ear whittled, tails bobbed off and that brand mark of ‘O U T’ laid on to their flank hides by the boys set to do so.

Before any of the branding could commence, the young calves had to be flushed out of the countryside and gathered back by the fire pits where the branding irons was made hot for such the occasion as this. And on the occasion of having to handle unruly cow pups nearby water, Slim got some fussy, in a good natured way, and cut lose with these words, What’re we gonna do about workin’ ‘em beeves along dat wily branch waters o’ da Belle Fourche River dis season, Ornery?

Well, Ornery chuckled, this remembers me ta what Mister Tucker tol’t me once about what he might could best recollect o’ some words Mister Oliver Loving said, ‘First, never borrow up any trouble. And second, don’t try to cross a river before you reach it.’ So lad, let’s us live ‘er craft by ‘em trusted words today, okay? Now these words did not actually answer Slim’s question directly, but he got the hint. They would figure it out when they got there was Ornery’s meaning. And good they would, and with splendid success too.

This rounding up business, or hunting, as the experienced hands called it, sure took up some time and many a morning. Early, in the day them saddlers would be out combing the hills, valleys, coulees and narrow draws, the scrub brush, creek sides, and more searching for a heifer and that calf or calves of hers to bring in. And in the midst of