The Round-up

: THE RAWHIDE
: Arizona Nights

This, as you well may gather, was in the summer routine. Now the time

of the great fall round-up drew near. The home ranch began to bustle

in preparation.



All through Cochise County were short mountain ranges set down,

apparently at random, like a child's blocks. In and out between them

flowed the broad, plain-like valleys. On the valleys were the various

ranges, great or small, controlled by the diff
rent individuals of the

Cattlemen's Association. During the year an unimportant, but certain,

shifting of stock took place. A few cattle of Senor Johnson's Lazy Y

eluded the vigilance of his riders to drift over through the Grant Pass

and into the ranges of his neighbour; equally, many of the neighbour's

steers watered daily at Senor Johnson's troughs. It was a matter of

courtesy to permit this, but one of the reasons for the fall round-up

was a redistribution to the proper ranges. Each cattle-owner sent an

outfit to the scene of labour. The combined outfits moved slowly from

one valley to another, cutting out the strays, branding the late

calves, collecting for the owner of that particular range all his

stock, that he might select his marketable beef. In turn each

cattleman was host to his neighbours and their men.



This year it had been decided to begin the circle of the round-up at

the C 0 Bar, near the banks of the San Pedro. Thence it would work

eastward, wandering slowly in north and south deviation, to include all

the country, until the final break-up would occur at the Lazy Y.



The Lazy Y crew was to consist of four men, thirty riding horses, a

"chuck wagon," and cook. These, helping others, and receiving help in

turn, would suffice, for in the round-up labour was pooled to a common

end. With them would ride Jed Parker, to safeguard his master's

interests.



For a week the punchers, in their daily rides, gathered in the range

ponies. Senor Johnson owned fifty horses which he maintained at the

home ranch for every-day riding, two hundred broken saddle animals,

allowed the freedom of the range, except when special occasion demanded

their use, and perhaps half a thousand quite unbroken--brood mares,

stallions, young horses, broncos, and the like. At this time of year

it was his habit to corral all those saddlewise in order to select

horses for the round-ups and to replace the ranch animals. The latter

he turned loose for their turn at the freedom of the range.



The horses chosen, next the men turned their attention to outfit. Each

had, of course, his saddle, spurs, and "rope." Of the latter the chuck

wagon carried many extra. That vehicle, furthermore, transported such

articles as the blankets, the tarpaulins under which to sleep, the

running irons for branding, the cooking layout, and the men's personal

effects. All was in readiness to move for the six weeks' circle, when

a complication arose. Jed Parker, while nimbly escaping an irritated

steer, twisted the high heel of his boot on the corral fence. He

insisted the injury amounted to nothing. Senor Johnson however,

disagreed.



"It don't amount to nothing, Jed," he pronounced, after manipulation,

"but she might make a good able-bodied injury with a little coaxing.

Rest her a week and then you'll be all right."



"Rest her, the devil!" growled Jed; "who's going to San Pedro?"



"I will, of course," replied the Senor promptly. "Didje think we'd send

the Chink?"



"I was first cousin to a Yaqui jackass for sendin' young Billy Ellis

out. He'll be back in a week. He'd do."



"So'd the President," the Senor pointed out; "I hear he's had some

experience."



"I hate to have you to go," objected Jed. "There's the missis." He

shot a glance sideways at his chief.





"I guess she and I can stand it for a week," scoffed the latter. "Why,

we are old married folks by now. Besides, you can take care of her."



"I'll try," said Jed Parker, a little grimly.



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