Through the Eyes of Traveler (Hoot)
By Sandy Croote
It was a typically hot sunny day much like most days in Laramie. A westerly wind blew the dry arid sand across the big paddock. The old hitch team was tied to the rail awaiting the stagecoach to roll into the transfer station. I rested quietly knowing that I would have to work soon enough. It had been a hard ride yesterday. The rail to the fence on the big pasture had loosened up and the cows had taken advantage of the escape route. It wasn't long before they were scattered all over among the boulders and rock ledges. My weary rider and his friend spent hours trying to round them back up. Just strengthens my theory that cows really are stupid animals. The heat was horrible and water holes few and far between. It was hard work climbing the rocks and I certainly earned my oats trying to get those cows headed in the right direction. My rider Jess directed me left and right as those foolish cows tried to go anywhere but back to the paddock. With my rider muttering something about dadgummit (whatever that means), we stayed with it for the better part of the day.
When we finally had them all rounded up and the fence back in place we finally took a much more leisurely pace back to the Sherman Ranch. We stopped at a waterhole and both Jess and Slim dismounted. Both lay face down on the edge of the bank. They splashed the cool water over their dust covered faces and soaked their bandanas to cool themselves off. I really like my rider, he has a kind heart and a gentle hand. As I bowed my head and took a long drink of the refreshing water, Jess and Slim refilled their canteens. It wasn't too far back to the Ranch, but they were always prepared for anything. Jess has a funny way of mounting, he would jump up in the air and put his foot in the stirrup on his way up. Most folks mount from the ground, but this way was both entertaining and easy on my back since it didn't pull my saddle to the side when climbing on. Jess gave me a soft pat on the neck and we were headed home.
We almost made it, but far off in the distance we heard gunshots, two quick, a pause, then the third, this was a distress pattern. The riders exchanged glances and Slim said "someone's in trouble". Our direction of travel was changed and Jess spurred me in the sides. I don't really like the spurs, but since Jess has never used them in a harsh way I can tolerate them. We raced towards the sound of the gunshots. I could feel the sweat on my shoulders and girth. The pace was fast and I was starting to lather up and sweat from the exertion and heat.
I'm not sure how far we went, but it seemed quite far. The air was hot as I gulped deep breaths of the warm air. I was in a rhythm now, like an athletic runner and although the pace was fast, I enjoyed the freedom to really stretch full out. Jess rode my stride easily and together we rode as a team. The horse Slim rode was a pretty roan filly with white socks. It wasn't his usual mount but she kept up quite well.
As we rounded the final bend where we thought the shots were fired, we came upon an overturned wagon. The tongue of the wagon was cracked and splintered. One wheel sheared off and another bent awkwardly. There was no sign of the team of horses. The contents of the wagon were spewn across the ground. The water barrel that had been fastened at the side was leaking its precious load. I watched as the water seeped into the ground forming a dark muddy wet pool in contrast to the sand. The area seemed isolated and we had to wonder if the occupant or occupants had left on foot to maybe locate the horses.
Slim and Jess were about to ride on ahead but seeing no tracks (except the teams hoofprints) they started to walk around the debris. It was then we saw a grizzly old man pinned under the rubble at the front of the wagon. He was conscious, but in a lot of pain. Jess and Slim tried to lift the wagon off the mans leg without success. They tried to lever it off with a rock and a board making a type of seesaw which only broke under the weight. The old fellow moaned and his ashen face beneath the grizzly beard made his sun ripened face appear pale against the sand. Jess decided to use me and the filly to set up a pulley. He was kind but demanding as he pulled our brides forward. The wagon was heavy and we strained forward digging our hooves into the sand. Our muscles grew weary but the grim look on Jess' face told me I had to keep trying. With a little more effort we raised the wagon enough for Slim to slide the old man out. Jess softly stroked my nose and called me a good boy. Slim thought it best not to move the old man so Jess said he would ride into town and fetch the Doc and a buckboard. With a swift jump he swung easily into the saddle and we were headed to town. Once again it was a fast pace. I could sense the urgency and I opened up my stride without being asked. The rhythm of my hooves hitting the ground and Jess's following hand brought us to town in short order.
Jess tossed my reins over the hitching rail without even tying them. He knew I wasn't going anywhere without him. Once he found the Doctor and arranged for help to get the old man, he turned his attention back to me. He softly stroked my face and rubbed my muzzle. I blew through my nostrils warming his hand. I nuzzled his neck and enjoyed the quiet bonding time. "Let's go home Boy, its been a long day". The ride back was quiet and we enjoyed the last few embers of sun as it sank lower in the sky. The beautiful hues of colors cast slight shadows as darkness closed in. As the sun continued to set the damp chill of the night air made Jess shiver.
Back at the ranch Jess took me into the barn. I was grateful for being in a stall. It was a bit drafty at times and sometime there was a mouse that waited patiently under my feed bucket hoping for some spilled grain, but this was home. It felt good to have someone love and care for you.
Jess took my saddle and bridle off then hung the damp saddle blanket over the fence to dry. He rummaged in a nearby trunk and settled on a rubber curry comb. As bone tired as he was, he stayed in the barn and massaged my coat in big sweeping circles. It felt so good to shed the caked on sweat and dirt that accumulated from today's adventures. Jess followed up with a soft brush to work away the remaining dirt and bring out that brilliant shine. He scooped up my feed and put hay in my manger. He was tired and he leaned against me with an arm resting over me. We both just enjoyed the moment of togetherness, the peaceful quiet, the moment in time. He softly whispered "Goodnight Boy, I'll see you in the morning. You did good my friend". He blew out the lantern and all was dark. I listened to his footsteps softly padding their way to the house, and the little jingle of his spurs as he walked.
The trust and love I have for this human is hard to explain, we have been through a lot together. Each one depending on the other. He cares for me when I'm sick or injured and more than once I have carried him back to the Ranch when he was too weak from a stray bullet. He would just rest on my neck, too exhausted to do much more and I always found my way back.
Yes, my friend, you will see me in the morning.