the flying u ranch-第1部分

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The　Flying　U　Ranch



by　B。　M。　Bower







CONTENTS

CHAPTER　

I。　　　The　Coming　of　a　Native　Son

II。　　〃When　Greek　Meets　Greek〃

III。　　Bad　News

IV。　　　Some　Hopes

V。　　　　Sheep

VI。　　　What　Happened　to　　Andy

VII。　　Truth　Crushed　to　Earth；　etc。

VIII。　The　Dot　Outfit

IX。　　　More　Sheep

X。　　　　The　Happy　Family　Herd　Sheep

XI。　　　Weary　Unburdens

XII。　　Two　of　a　Kind

XIII。　The　Happy　Family　Learn　Something

XIV。　　Happy　Jack

XV。　　　Oleson

XVI。　　The　End　of　the　Dots

XVII。　Good　News







FLYING　U　RANCH







CHAPTER　I。　The　Coming　of　a　Native　Son



The　Happy　Family；　waiting　for　the　Sunday　supper　call；　were

grouped　around　the　open　door　of　the　bunk…house；　gossiping　idly　of

things　purely　local；　when　the　Old　Man　returned　from　the　Stock

Association　at　Helena；　beside　him　on　the　buggy　seat　sat　a

stranger。　The　Old　Man　pulled　up　at　the　bunk…house；　the　stranger

sprang　out　over　the　wheel　with　the　agility　which　bespoke　youthful

muscles；　and　the　Old　Man　introduced　him　with　a　quirk　of　the　lips：



〃This　is　Mr。　Mig…u…ell　Rapponi；　boysa　peeler　straight　from　the

Golden　Gate。　Throw　out　your　war…bag　and　make　yourself　to　home；

Mig…u…ell；　some　of　the　boys'll　show　you　where　to　bed　down。〃



The　Old　Man　drove　on　to　the　house　with　his　own　luggage；　and　Happy

Jack　followed　to　take　charge　of　the　team；　but　the　remainder　of

the　Happy　Family　unobtrusively　took　the　measure　of　the　foreign

element。　From　his　black…and…white　horsehair　hatband；　with　tassels

that　swept　to　the　very　edge　of　his　gray　hatbrim；　to　the　crimson

silk　neckerchief　draped　over　the　pale　blue　bosom　of　his　shirt；

from　the　beautifully　stamped　leather　cuffs；　down　to　the

exaggerated　height　of　his　tan　boot…heels；　their　critical　eyes

swept　in　swift；　appraising　glances；　and　unanimous　disapproval　was

the　result。　The　Happy　Family　had　themselves　an　eye　to　picturesque

garb　upon　occasion；　but　this　passed　even　Pink's　love　of　display。



〃He's　some　gaudy　to　look　at；〃　Irish　murmured　under　his　breath　to

Cal　Emmett。



〃All　he　lacks　is　a　spot…light　and　a　brass　band；〃　Cal　returned；　in

much　the　same　tone　with　which　a　woman　remarks　upon　a　last

season's　hat　on　the　head　of　a　rival。



Miguel　was　not　embarrassed　by　the　inspection。　He　was　tall；

straight；　and　swarthily　handsome；　and　he　stood　with　the

complacence　of　a　stage　favorite　waiting　for　the　applause　to　cease

so　that　he　might　speak　his　first　lines；　and；　while　he　waited；　he

sifted　tobacco　into　a　cigarette　paper　daintily；　with　his　little

finger　extended。　There　was　a　ring　upon　that　finger；　a　ring　with　a

moonstone　setting　as　large　and　round　as　the　eye　of　a　startled

cat；　and　the　Happy　Family　caught　the　pale　gleam　of　it　and　drew　a

long　breath。　He　lighted　a　match　nonchalantly；　by　the　artfully

simple　method　of　pinching　the　head　of　it　with　his　fingernails；

leaned　negligently　against　the　wall　of　the　bunk…house；　and

regarded　the　group　incuriously　while　he　smoked。



〃Any　pretty　girls　up　this　way？〃　he　inquired　languidly；　after　a

moment；　fanning　a　thin　smoke…cloud　from　before　his　face　while　he

spoke。



The　Happy　Family　went　prickly　hot。　The　girls　in　that　neighborhood

were　held　in　esteem；　and　there　was　that　in　his　tone　which　gave

offense。



〃Sure；　there's　pretty　girls　here！〃　Big　Medicine　bellowed

unexpectedly；　close　beside　him。　〃We're　all　of　us　engaged　to　‘em；

by　cripes！〃



Miguel　shot　an　oblique　glance　at　Big　Medicine；　examined　the　end

of　his　cigarette；　and　gave　a　lift　of　shoulder；　which　might　mean

anything　or　nothing；　and　so　was　irritating　to　a　degree。　He　did

not　pursue　the　subject　further；　and　so　several　belated　retorts

were　left　tickling　futilely　the　tongues　of　the　Happy　Family

which　does　not　make　for　amiability。



To　a　man　they　liked　him　little；　in　spite　of　their　easy

friendliness　with　mankind　in　general。　At　supper　they　talked　with

him　perfunctorily；　and　covertly　sneered　because　he　sprinkled　his

food　liberally　with　cayenne　and　his　speech　with　Spanish　words

pronounced　with　soft；　slurred　vowels　that　made　them　sound

unfamiliar；　and　against　which　his　English　contrasted　sharply　with

its　crisp；　American　enunciation。　He　met　their　infrequent　glances

with　the　cool　stare　of　absolute　indifference　to　their　opinion　of

him；　and　their　perfunctory　civility　with　introspective　calm。



The　next　morning；　when　there　was　riding　to　be　done；　and　Miguel

appeared　at　the　last　moment　in　his　working　clothes；　even　Weary；

the　sunny…hearted；　had　an　unmistakable　curl　of　his　lip　after　the

first　glance。



Miguel　wore　the　hatband；　the　crimson　kerchief　tied　loosely　with

the　point　draped　over　his　chest；　the　stamped　leather　cuffs　and

the　tan　boots　with　the　highest　heels　ever　built　by　the　cobbler

craft。　Also；　the　lower　half　of　him　was　incased　in　chaps　the　like

of　which　had　never　before　been　brought　into　Flying　U　coulee。

Black　Angora　chaps　they　were；　long…haired；　crinkly　to　the　very

hide；　with　three　white；　diamond…shaped　patches　running　down　each

leg　of　them；　and　with　the　leather　waistband　stamped　elaborately

to　match　the　cuffs。　The　bands　of　his　spurs　were　two　inches　wide

and　inlaid　to　the　edge　with　beaten　silver；　and　each　concho　was

engraved　to　represent　a　large；　wild　rose；　with　a　golden　center。　A

dollar　laid　upon　the　rowels　would　have　left　a　fringe　of　prongs

all　around。



He　bent　over　his　sacked　riding　outfit；　and　undid　it；　revealing　a

wonderful　saddle　of　stamped　leather　inlaid　on　skirt　and　cantle

with　more　beaten　silver。　He　straightened　the　skirts；　carefully

ignoring　the　glances　thrown　in　his　direction；　and　swore　softly　to

himself　when　he　discovered　where　the　leather　had　been　scratched

through　the　canvas　wrappings　and　the　end　of　the　silver　scroll

ripped　up。　He　drew　out　his　bridle　and　shook　it　into　shape；　and

the　silver　mountings　and　the　reins　of　braided　leather　with

horsehair　tassels　made　Happy　Jack's　eyes　greedy　with　desire。　His

blanket　was　a　scarlet　Navajo；　and　his　rope　a　rawhide　lariat。



Altogether；　his　splendor　when　he　was　mounted　so　disturbed　the

fine　mental　poise　of　the　Happy　Family　that　they　left　him　jingling

richly　off　by　himself；　while　they　rode　closely　grouped　and

discussed　him　acrimoniously。



〃By　gosh；　a　man　might　do　worse　than　locate　that　Native　Son　for　a

silver　mine；〃　Cal　began；　eyeing　the　interloper　scornfully。　〃It's

plumb　wicked　to　ride　around　with　all　that　wealth　and　fussy　stuff。

He　must　'a'　robbed　a　bank　and　put　the　money　all　into　a　riding

outfit。〃



〃By　golly；　he　looks　to　me　like　a　pair　uh　trays　when　he　comes

bow…leggin'　along　with　them　white　diamonds　on　his　legs；〃　Slim

stated　solemnly。



〃And　I'll　gamble　that's　a　spot　higher　than　he　stacks　up　in　the

cow　game；〃　Pink　observed　with　the　pessimism　which　matrimony　had

given　him。　〃You　mind　him　asking　about　bad　horses；　last　night？

That　Lizzie…boy　never　saw　a　bad　horse；　they　don't　grow　'em　where

he　come　from。　What　they　don't　know　about　riding　they　make　up　for

with　a　swell　rig〃



〃And；　oh；　mamma！　It　sure　is　a　swell　rig！〃　Weary　paid　generous

tribute。　〃Only　I　will　say　old　Banjo　reminds　me　of　an　Irish　cook

rigged　out　in　silk　and　diamonds。　That　outfit　on　Glory；　now〃　He

sighed　enviously。



〃Well；　I've　gone　up　against　a　few　real　ones　in　my　long　and　varied

career；〃　Irish　remarked　reminiscently；　〃and　I've　noticed　that　a

hoss　never　has　any　respect　or　admiration　for　a　swell　rig。　When　he

gets　real　busy　it　ain't　the　silver　filigree　stuff　that's　going　to

help　you　hold　connections　with　your　saddle；　and　a　silver…mounted

bridle…bit　ain't　a　darned　bit　better　than　a　plain　one。〃



〃Just　take　a　look　at　him！〃　cried　Pink；　with　intense　disgust。

〃Ambling　off　there；　so　the　sun　can　strike　all　that　silver　and

bounce　back　in　our　eyes。　And　that　braided　lariatI'd　sure　love

to　see　the　pieces　if　he　ever　tries　to　anchor　anything　bigger　than

a　yearling！〃



〃Why；　you　don't　think　for　a　minute　he　could　ever　get　out　and　rope

anything；　do　yuh　？〃　Irish　laughed。　〃That　there　Native　Son　throws

on　a…w…l…together　too　much　dog　to　really　get　out　and　do

anything。〃



〃Aw；〃　fleered　Happy　Jack；　〃he　ain't　any　Natiff　Son。　He's　a　dago！〃



〃He's　got　the　earmarks　uh　both；〃　Big　Medicine　stated

authoritatively。　〃I　know　'em；　by　cripes；　and　I　know　their　ways。〃

He　jerked　his　thumb　toward　the　dazzling　Miguel。　〃I　can　tell　yuh

the　kinda　cow…puncher　he　is；　I've　saw　'em　workin'　at　it。　Haw…haw…

haw！　They'll　start　out　to　move　ten　or　a　dozen　head　uh　tame　old

cows　from　one　field　to　another；　and　there'll　be　six　or　eight

fellers；　rigged　up　like　this　here　tray…spot；　ridin'　along；

important　as　hell；　drivin'　them　few　cows　down　a　lane；　with　peach

trees　on　both　sides；　by　cripes；　jingling　their　big；　silver　spurs；

all　wearin'　fancy　chaps　to　ride　four　or　five　miles　down　the　road。

Honest　to　grandma；　they　call　that　punchin'　cows！　Oh；　he's　a

Native　Son；　all　right。　I've　saw　lots　of　'em；　only　I　never　saw　one

so　far　away　from　the　Promised　Land　before。　That　there　looks　queer

to　me。　Natiff　Sonsthe　real　ones；　like　himare　as　scarce

outside　Calyforny　as　buffalo　are　right　here　in　this　coulee。〃



〃That's　the　way　they　do　it；　all　right；〃　Irish　agreed。　〃And　then

they'll　have　a　'rodeo'〃



〃Haw…haw…haw！〃　Big　Medicine　interrupted；　and　took　up　the　tale；

which　might　have　been　entitled　〃Some　Cowpunching　I　Have　Seen。〃



〃They　have　them　rodeos　on　a　Sunday；　mostly；　and　they　invite

everybody　to　it；　like　it　was　a　picnic。　And　there'll　be　two　or

three　fellers　to　every　calf；　all　lit　up；　like　Mig…u…ell；　over

there；　in　chaps　and　silver　fixin's；　fussin'　around　on　horseback

in　a　corral；　and　every　feller　trying　to　pile　his　rope　on　the　same

calf；　by　cripes！　They　stretch　'em　out　with　two　ropescalves；

remember！　Little；　weenty　fellers　you　could　pack　under　one　arm！

Yuh　can't　blame　'em　much。　They　never　have　more'n　thirty　or　forty

head　to　brand　at　a　time；　and　they　never　git　more'n　a　taste　uh

real　work。　So　they　make　the　most　uh　what　they　git；　and　go　in

heavy　on　fancy　outfits。　And　this　here　silver…mounted　fellow

t