CHAPTER X—LEARNING THE ROPES ON A RANCH
The days began to just glide away, and every one saw Frank and Andy finding new sources of keen enjoyment.
They seldom lost a day for a while but that they went up for a short time, at least, in the aeroplane that was the marvel and admiration of the whole ranch. Those who worked on other cattle ranges were no longer startled when they saw a strange object not unlike a monstrous bird come spinning overhead, and disappearing in the distance. Though they never failed to stop their work, no matter what that might be, and gape upwards, as long as the aeroplane remained in sight, still, they no longer fired at it, as happened at first.
The boys had been warned by Uncle Jethro in the beginning that in making their flights miles away from home they would be wise to keep a pretty considerable distance aloft. There was never any telling what cowboys would do; and they were so apt to empty their guns at what they fancied must be some queer bird belonging to the supposed to be extinct class. At any rate, the warning was heeded, and on numerous occasions Frank and Andy believed that they profited from it. Indeed, it seemed to be the usual thing, whenever they passed over a cowboy in some strange section of the country, for him to whip out his gun and empty it; after which he would sometimes dodge, and try to conceal himself under a tree, or a clump of sage brush, or it might be a sentinel cactus ten feet high, growing on the border of the desert.
But by degrees the news was circulating around that this was one of the new fangled aeroplanes, and the shooting began to grow less frequent, though the young aviators did not take more chances than they could help.
Frequently, now, there would be company at the ranch and bunk house. In fact, these days Double X Ranch was fast becoming the Mecca for the entire neighborhood. Whenever a party of punchers got a holiday, instead of going off to town to indulge in a booze, they would start over to see the “wonder of the air,” and hope that the young pilots of the upper currents would perform for them.
This got to be such a nuisance that finally Frank had to announce that they were only going up on certain days, when the exhibition would be free. And at such times there was sure to be quite a crowd present, all wild to see how this queer steed that flew through the air at the rate of from forty to eighty miles an hour, or even a full hundred on occasion, was managed.
Meanwhile the two boys had been singularly fortunate, in that they did not meet with a single serious accident. Outside of the intense heat they had little of a disagreeable nature to contend with in this Arizona climate, where winds did not often visit the lowlands in great force, and a dead calm usually prevailed. And as soon as they were aloft, they found the atmosphere decidedly cool, even cold, since they were quickly free from the earth’s radiation.
Of course, they had scoured the immediate country, and even ventured a short way out over the desert, dropping low enough to observe the strange formation of the billows of sand that reminded them of the sea, note the peculiarities that marked the tall cactus plants; and make up their minds that there could be a great many more pleasant things happen to them than getting lost on this burning stretch, with little or no water to quench their raging thirst.
After the first glimpse of that waste stretch, the boys always made sure to carry a big bottle of water along with them when starting out. And Uncle Jethro declared that it was a wise precaution, as they could never tell when such a thing might prove to be a life preserver, if not for themselves, then possibly in the case of another who had unfortunately lost himself on the desert, and whose plight they might discover from aloft.
But while they scoured the level in this fashion, the boys were cautious about trying to fly over the rugged elevations to the north, where the mines were being operated, to which the trains of wagons containing supplies headed so frequently.
They found just as they expected, that the winds were apt to be contrary in this region, and that it was more or less dangerous to attempt to fly where at any minute a furious gust would suddenly strike the aeroplane on the right quarter; which was hardly guarded against, when a second rush of air would swoop down from still another angle, threatening to overturn the sprawling flier with its violence.
One visit in this direction was enough for them, and on this occasion they saw the mouth of one of the mines, with a curious group standing as usual gazing upward in open-mouthed wonder.
Those mountains presented a grim aspect that impressed both the boys exceedingly, and they would never forget the sight. Andy had brought a new kodak, which his father had purchased in order that they might carry back something to show the folks at home. It was small in size, but with an expensive lens; and capable of producing very fine pictures; so that they hoped to have a display worth looking at by the time these were all developed and prints made later on.
Nothing that was interesting escaped Andy, and he had developed quite a liking for his new occupation, being constantly on the lookout for scenes that he thought would make good prints.
But it must not be supposed that all this time the Bird Boys were so much occupied with scouring the regions of the upper air for fifty or a hundred miles in every direction, that they neglected to take advantage of the opportunities presented to observe what life on a great cattle ranch was like, for this was not so.
As time passed they limited their flights more and more, having discovered other sources of amusement that held their interest; because by this time flying no longer possessed the novelty for them that it had in the beginning; and once they had exhausted the new sights of the region, they were not so anxious to go up as they were to mount ponies, and see something of life with the cow punchers.
By degrees they were learning a great many things that they had never dreamed would ever fall to their lot. Being young, and quick to pick up new “stunts,” both of them gave promise of soon making average riders, at least, though they might not hope to equal some of the punchers who were more reckless by nature, and handled their mounts as though a cayuse were a machine, governed by their sole whim.
Both Frank and Andy had their own ponies, and could dash like mad over the level, plying both voice and quirt in the endeavor to come in ahead; for cowboys spend much of their time in this sort of racing.
They had adopted something of the dress of the others, and even wore the customary “chaps” made of leather and handsomely decorated, and to which they soon became accustomed in spite of the first awkward feeling.
And so, daily they were seeing more and more of life on the range. They visited the prairie dog village and shot rattlers that were dozing outside the holes in which they lived at peace with the queer little animals that amused Andy so, and which he stalked on the sly, so as to take home some pictures of them.
They learned to throw a rope with a fair degree of skill, although this takes long practice, if one wishes to become an expert. Neither of them ever actually threw a cow, though they believed they would be able to do so in time, if they kept this thing up long enough.
They did like to watch the regular punchers do the trick and get the rope around the snubbing post like lightning every time. Both Frank and Andy could hobble a broncho equal to the next one; and on one occasion had spent a night on the range “wrangling” horses, which meant that they kept company with the guard whose duty was to watch the precious saddle band, and prevent them from straying, which catastrophe would be apt to leave the party without mounts for their morrow’s work; and this is really the worst thing that could happen to cowboys, who seldom walk if they can help it.
Later on there was to be the regular fall round-up, and the boys expected to be able to accompany the outfit, and see the youngsters branded after the most approved fashion, with Andy capturing numerous pictures that would show just how the entire operation were carried out. One evening while the two boys were sitting with Mr. Witherspoon on the big verandah which was kept screened to prevent an onslaught from insect pests, the genial rancher surprised Frank and Andy by casually remarking:
“I rather think, now, that we’ll have a decent day for our little expedition tomorrow; and that the heat will be somewhat less pronounced than usual.”
Andy looked at his cousin. Uncle Jethro had already sprung several little surprises on them and seemed to enjoy it immensely so that they immediately scented something new.
“What sort of trip is that, Uncle?” asked Andy, seeing that the rancher was waiting to be questioned.
He pretended to be surprised, and raised his eyebrows as he remarked:
“Oh! is it possible that I forgot to mention to you that I’ve arranged to take you on a little shooting trip tomorrow, just to break the monotony of your existence here, and perhaps give you a chance to carry home a memento of life down in Arizona, that every time you scrape your feet upon it, will call up a few of the things that have happened here.”
“Please go on, and tell us more about it, Uncle; do we get a chance to snap off a picture of a bunch of antelopes this time; that wolf scene is going to turn out a jim-dandy, I reckon; and I’m anxious to try another,” Andy went on to say.
“Well, you boys have sure locoed the whole community with that wonder of an aeroplane, and perhaps, if the ranchers hope to get any decent work out of their punchers, we’d better give them a little rest along that line. But we’ve been troubled of late with losing some of our best heifers; and the boys declare they’ve found tracks of a grizzly that comes down out of the hills and gets his supper every once in so often. So Buckskin is going along to show us where he thinks the old fellow lives; and perhaps you can get a snapshot of him before we start in to puncture his tough old hide with our lead. How about that, boys; think you’d like to see how we rid the country of a pest that plays havoc with our herds?”
Frank smiled and nodded as if pleased, but Andy as usual broke out into a series of exclamations that told how delighted he would be at the chance.
“Then it’s a go,” remarked Mr. Witherspoon, carelessly, as though such things as bagging a ferocious grizzly bear were, after all of every day occurrence in the life of a cattle raiser; and to be looked up, as Andy, for instance might consider an ordinary flight over the level plain, “I’ll see to it that you both have guns, and we’ll start shortly after breakfast, so as to do most of our riding before it gets too hot. Then, if we want, after we’ve bagged our game we might hang round in the foothills and try to keep cool until near sunset, when we’ll start back,” and he went on talking of other things as though this were but a small matter.