3
The Roundup
The next morning, after a quick stop to buy sleeping bags and some camping items, they arrived at the ranch where the roundup operations were to be based.
The foreman explained that there are many large and small ranches in the area of open range. The grazing feed, out on the prairie had all turned brown and died. Come fall season we all get together to herd all the cattle to one place, then separate them by their brands to their proper owners. In this roundup there's ta'be about a hundred cowboys making huge sweeping actions, beginning in the north mountains bringing them in. It would be slow tedious work in all kinds of weather. They would have to sleep on the range with the cattle to keep them from straying away. There'd be several chuck wagons traveling along with us on the route, so there should be no worry over lots of great food and drinks.
Your pay will come from our group of land owners, not just one of us, he added.
The next morning marked the arrival of many cars, trucks, trailers, and vans. There was a meeting of the owners, "Big Russ" was named as the Trail Boss for that roundup. He drove a big ol military style truck that had most of the roof cut away so he could stand up on the seat and give orders with a huge bull-horn.
The first order was for everyone that didn't have a saddle to get one from the trailer and a horse from the corral. Jack and Ennis both picked horses that looked like they knew what they were doing and saddled them up.
The trucks with the food, supplies and helpers would go up the highway to the starting point, the riders would go on horseback beside the road. It was going to take the rest of the day just to get there since it was still pretty warm for the horses in spite of the sharp wind.
Finally arriving at the jump-off campsite they found that the families' youngsters had gathered piles of firewood for a half dozen campsites.
The food was great, plenty of almost everything, even beans.
As the sun reached down towards the mountains in the west, the bullhorn shouted, "ya better get some sleep men, our day begins at first light!"
CLANG-CLANG-CRANG!
The old iron triangle on one of the chuck wagons rang loudly over the sleeping prairie. The cowboys groggily staggered to their feet. Jack rolled up their sleeping gear while Ennis saddled their tethered horses making sure they ate and drank.
The triangle sounded again, signaling breakfast was ready; Come and get it! There was plenty of good strong coffee, steak n eggs, and well just about anything. Ennis grinned, "It sure is nothing like the grub we had up there on the mountain." "Yes, and plenty of it too!" Jack kidded.
Soon that old truck came lumbering along in a cloud of dust, stopped on a small rise, the bullhorn shouted, "Meeting here in ten minutes. Everyone be ready to ride!"
The truck returned shortly with a number of riders wearing red shirts.
The bullhorn shouted "Each of my bosses in the red shirts is to pick 12 men. Each of you remember who he is and follow his orders for the entire ride.
We are going to form a line, close enough to be seen by the man on your left and for you to see the man on your right. Stay tight enough, make lots of noise and not to let any beef animals past your line. We want all of them. And don't abuse the stock or we fire you on the spot. Any goats, sheep or deer, let em pass through.
There are many dangers out on the plains, ride carefully and safely. Watch your buddies at all times. We don't want nobody to be hurt or killed in a stampede, a grass fire or flash flood. Any problems, just tell your red-shirt boss."
'Old Tom' a red shirt, picked out Ennis first, then Jack. So at least they were both on the same team.
'Old Tom', I don't know why they called him that he's only about 40, pulled his group together for their final directions. In his soft spoken voice he told them this group was chosen to be almost in the center of the of the roundup riders line. He told Ennis, Jack and a couple others he would keep a sharp eye on them and if they were to need help he'd be close by, since this was their first roundup.
They took their places and almost immediately the bullhorn screamed "Riders GO!"
Right from the start they found it hard to stay in sight as the tall brush, hills and valleys obscured the person at the sides.
An hour later only 3 cows had been found and routed ahead. But there was no stopping now.
By Noon time from a high hill it was seen that many other of the redshirts groups had much better luck; now there seemed to be hundreds of cattle out ahead of them.
By evening near a fair size creek they found the chuckwagons parked with supper being prepared. They were told this is where they would stop for the night. Each of the redshirts was to have one of his riders take a one hour turn at guarding the herd, not to scare them, but to keep them together. Ennis was chosen to stand the first watch.
Jack ate supper and prepared both sleeping bags near one of the fires the kids had made for them. Jack's turn to ride for an hour was at midnight.
Somehow they seem to have survived the first day, dog tired and sore. But they were doing something together! That made the day's hard work seem OK.
Soon Ennis came back to the campfire, almost wordlessly ate supper, climbed into the sleeping bag and was instantly sound asleep.
Too soon, Jack was rudely awakened by Joe shaking his shoulder telling him it was midnight and his turn to ride herd.
The flaming torch he carried for light as he rode slowly around the sleeping herd warmed him just a bit, but when the moon came up that light wasn't need. Time seemed to stand still, then Jack really felt the power of the icy cold night air.
Too soon, the clanging of that damn triangle told everyone it was time to get on their feet for another long day. Jack and Ennis made it to the creek without many words to quickly splash the cold water on their faces, then pack up their gear, feed the horses and hurriedly get food into their own bellies.
Soon that raspy bullhorn voice sounded again. Urged them to take extra care as the herd was bigger than usual and that a stampede may happen even if just one cow got spooked.
"Move em Out!
Thankfully today Jack got to ride next to Ennis. Old Tom rode back and forth behind all his riders to insure everything was going OK.
Jack's face and neck burned like fire, due to the endless wind biting his skin. His back hurt too, so many hours in the saddle; As much pain as any rodeo riding had caused him as a teenager.
Each time he glanced over at Ennis, he seemed to looking back. Caught looking, the blush on his face turned into a toothy grin. No words were spoken out loud. Didn't need to.
Otherwise the day's ride went without much going wrong except for a stubborn cow or two that just wouldn't get the hint.
The duty at the end of the day was now getting routine. Ennis tended the horses while Jack smoothed the ground of rocks as he got the their gear and bedrolls ready near one of the campfires.
That Jack night got to ride at 2 AM and Ennis to follow at 3 AM.
When it was finally time for Ennis's turn, Jack shook Ennis to try to gently wake him up. Ennis's sleepy hand locked him by the arm and tried to drag him down into what was going to be a kiss. Jack hissed in a louder voice "Ennis wake up, cut it out, somebody will see you." Slowly as he awoke a bit more his hand relaxed, he sat up to face a worried Jack. Ennis replied in a low groggy voice, "Sorry I must have been dreaming." He pulled on his boots and hat, found his horse and rode off to the herd. No problem.
Well, he wasn't the only one around that campfire awake that night.
Someone else had witnessed that exchange between the boys.