We Were There at the Oklahoma Land Run, Page 2

  CHAPTER TWO

  _Pete's Story_

  Cindy always loved to visit Pete Brent, partly because she liked him,partly because she liked his horses, and partly because she liked Grampsand Granny Brent, his father and mother. Besides, Gramps knew the mostwonderful stories, and Granny baked the most marvelous ginger cookieswhich she passed out with a very free hand. Cindy had looked forward tobringing Mindy to their wagon for a visit. Even though Gramps and Grannywere asleep in the wagon and Mindy would not meet them until tomorrow,it was a lot of fun to be with Pete and to look at his horses.

  "We'll have to be very quiet because Gramps and Granny Brent aresleeping now," Cindy whispered to her twin. "Let's go see the horses."

  Two of Pete's four ponies were roan-colored, the third was sorrel, andthe fourth was black and white. The two roans and the sorrel were veryfriendly and gentle, but the pinto trusted nobody and even tried to buckPete off whenever Pete rode him.

  Now the three gentle ponies and Pete's huge draft horses crowded asclose together as they could and thrust their heads over the picketline, each horse trying to get as much attention as possible forhimself. The pinto pulled as far back as his tie rope would let him goand snorted suspiciously. Though she had been on the point of warningher twin to be careful around the pinto, Cindy forgot to do so.

  Alec, who had never wanted to be anything except a farmer, liked theheavy-footed draft horses best. Cindy and Mindy turned naturally to thefleet ponies. Suddenly the pinto snorted again, softly and gently thistime, and came up to thrust a friendly muzzle at Mindy.

  "Mindy!" exclaimed Cindy.

  "What's the matter?" asked Mindy, who was happily stroking the pony'ssoft nose.

  "That's Thunder, and he isn't supposed to like anyone!"

  "He likes me," Mindy said. "Oh! Don't they remind you of birds?"

  "Yes, they do! But Pete told me that, though they can start at a fastclip and keep it up long after a race horse would be winded, a racehorse would beat any of them in a short sprint."

  "I don't believe it," Mindy said. "I don't believe any other horse couldeven keep up with them."

  "Except Daddy's Sunshine," Cindy said.

  "Yes," Mindy agreed loyally, "Sunshine might."

  Except for Thunder, who would let only Mindy touch him, they petted eachpony in turn, stroked the draft horses, petted the ponies again, andCindy asked Alec, "Wouldn't you just love to have one?"

  "Sure would," Alec agreed, "but I'd rather have this work team. Theycould pull a plow for ten hours, then do it again the next day and theday after, and still come back for more."

  "You have the team, and we'll take the ponies," Cindy said. "Let's goback and see Mr. Brent."

  They stole back, remembering to be very quiet in order not to awakenGramps and Granny, and sat on the wagon tongue. Pete lighted his pipe,and when the match flared it illumined his strong face. For the firsttime Cindy found herself thinking of it as a young face, even thoughPete must be almost thirty. Cindy said eagerly, "Tell us aboutOklahoma."

  "There now, young lady," Pete's grin was felt rather than seen, "I'vealready told you at least six times."

  "Please!" begged Cindy, who had an almost passionate interest in thisnew land that was to be her home. "Mindy hasn't heard the story."

  "Do you want to hear it, honey?" Pete asked.

  "I'd love to," Mindy said.

  Pete sat down with his back against the wagon wheel, rested his head onhis hands, puffed solemnly on his pipe, and after a moment said, "Shallwe begin with the Indians?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, though there were some ancient peoples in Oklahoma, the firsttribes which we ordinarily think of as Indians were the Kiowas,Comanches, Arapahoes, and such. They were all warlike and for the mostpart depended on hunting. There was very little of any kind of farming.But there were never so many of these tribes that Oklahoma was what youmight call crowded. It was a vacant land."

  The youngsters remained silent, waiting for Pete to go on. After amoment, he did.

  "Oklahoma came to us with the Louisiana Purchase of 1803. But in thosedays, to anyone east of the Mississippi, Oklahoma seemed as far away asthe moon seems now. Few people imagined that it would ever be any good,and almost nobody wanted to go there. In fact, very few people even knewit existed."

  "What's 'Oklahoma' mean, Mr. Brent?" Alec broke in.

  "It's a Choctaw Indian word meaning 'red people.' Now there weren't somany white men west of the Mississippi, but there were a lot of themeast of it. There were also a lot of Indians there. What happened iswhat usually happened when red men crowded white; the white men wantedthe land."

  "Wasn't that selfish?" Mindy asked.

  "Depends on how you look at it, Cindy--or Mindy." Pete grinned. "I don'tknow which is who, because I can't see the catsup any more. But if youmean, was it selfish for white people to grab Indian lands, it certainlywas. On the other hand, it might have been selfish for a few Indians tothink they could stand forever in the path of so many white men. Stilldepending on how you look at it, and whether you're white or red, it waseither 'the march of civilization,' or 'conquest.' Anyhow, the five'civilized' tribes, the Cherokees, Creeks, Chickasaws, Choctaws, andSeminoles, were told that if they'd give their eastern lands to whitemen, the territory later to be known as Oklahoma would be theirsforever. In the words of the treaty, they were to have it 'for as longas grass shall grow and waters run.' Moving these tribes took almosttwenty years, from 1828 to 1846, and it wasn't a nice thing, becausesome of the uprooted Indians suffered terribly, but finally they werehere."

  Alec interrupted again. "If the land was given to the Indians, how canwe take it?" he asked.

  "I was coming to that, Alec. The 'civilized' tribes were different. Theyknew white men. They saw that white men had a better way of living, andso they copied it. They had their farms, their schools, their churches,their stores. They lived much as we do and even owned slaves. Then camethe Civil War, and almost all of them lined up with the South. Thegovernment claimed that by this 'rebellion,' the tribes had violatedtheir treaty rights. That began it. There were a lot of people west ofthe Mississippi by that time, and they wanted to know why they weren'tallowed to have land that no longer belonged to the Indians anyway."

  "Be sure to tell about the cattlemen," Cindy murmured.

  "Sure thing. Great herds of cattle, gathered in Texas for delivery toKansas railheads, were driven across the territory. At first thecattlemen asked only that their herds be allowed to graze while passingthrough. Then they wanted grazing land to fatten cattle, and one way oranother they got a lot of it. So there was something else to fightabout. If homesteaders could have no part of Oklahoma, why were wealthycattlemen allowed to take so much of it? Then came the 'Boomers.'"

  Alec smiled. Cindy clasped her hands excitedly.

  "Somebody," Pete continued, "found out that part of Oklahoma, thesection soon to be opened, had been given up by the Creeks and Seminolesat the end of the Civil War and had never been assigned to any othertribe. They became the 'unassigned lands,' and the boom was on. At firstit was unimportant, because only a few people trickled in. Then, justabout ten years ago, a very great man, Captain David L. Payne, saw thepossibilities in Oklahoma and he organized the Boomers. Captain Paynepersonally led several expeditions of colonists into the unassignedlands. Each time the soldiers forced them to leave."

  "Is he here now?" Mindy asked.

  "No," said Pete. "He died about five years ago, but Captain WilliamCouch, and I'm sure he's on the border, took over. He made anotherattempt to establish a colony in 1885. When that colony was disbanded bysoldiers, the Boomers decided that no one can fly in the face of thelaw. So they tried to have the unassigned lands legally declared open tohomesteaders. There was plenty of opposition. Most of it came from thecattlemen who did not want to lose their free range, but the Indiantribes worked against it too. However, the Boomers won, and here weare."

  "Were you a Boomer?" Mindy asked breathlessly.

  "I was a B
oomer," Pete said. "I've been in there three times, and threetimes I've been marched out by soldiers. But though the soldiers didhold Captain Payne and a few others prisoners for a while, about allthey ever did to the rest was escort us back over the border. Because Iknow the country, I know where your dad and I can get ourselves two ofthe prettiest claims in Oklahoma if someone doesn't already have them."

  "How can anyone already have them?" Alec questioned. "The border isn'tsupposed to be opened before high noon on the 22nd of April."

  Pete sounded a little grim. "That's right, Alec, and nobody who crossesbefore that time is supposed to have legal title to any land he maystake. But a lot of people have gone in anyhow. They're hiding in thethickets and along the creek bottoms. They'll stake land, and some ofthem will get away with it. There aren't enough soldiers to find all ofthem and bring them back."

  "What will you do if some of them are on the claims you and Dad want?"Cindy asked.

  "Then there could be an argument," Pete said. "If we lose to somebodywho crosses when he should, well and good. But we won't lose to anyonewho has sneaked across before he should."

  "Do you think there'll be trouble?" Alec sounded worried.

  "I doubt it, Alec, but we must be ready if it comes."

  Mindy knitted puzzled brows. "There is much I do not understand."

  "If you have any questions," Pete said, "I'll try to answer them."

  "Thank you, Mr. Brent. Please tell me how close we are to Oklahoma."

  "We could almost throw a stone into it from this wagon," Pete said.

  "Then why," Mindy asked, "can't the first people across simply stake thefirst claims they find?"

  "They can do just that, and some of them will," Pete said. "But a greatmany people here on the border know where the best claims are. They'reold-time Boomers, or they've been in before, or in some cases, a groupof people have banded together to send a scout on ahead to find them aplace. The really hot race will be for the best land."

  "I see," said Mindy, "but you speak of claims. How are people to knowwhere their claim ends and another begins?"

  "All the homesteads have been surveyed and marked," Pete said. "Theyare, of course, a hundred and sixty acres each. Many of the townsites--they're three hundred and twenty acres--have been decided inadvance too. But they haven't been measured into lots, and there'sgoing to be trouble. People will stake anything, I believe, then findout they've located in a street, or on school property, or somethinglike that."

  "How will all these people get the things they need?" Mindy pursued.

  "The railroad you came in on, the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe, runsthrough the territory. Freight wagons can take supplies from theirdepots."

  "Will everyone get land?" Mindy questioned.

  Pete said, "They can't, because there isn't that much. With just undertwo million acres being opened up, most of which will be 160-acrehomesteads, that makes something less than fifteen thousand claims. At arough guess, even if you include all the town lots, there are threetimes as many people lined up on the border as there are claims. Who'sgoing to get the land?"

  "The strong and fast," Cindy said.

  "And the smart and lucky," Pete added. "That's pretty much the way italways has been and always will be. In the advance of progress, and thisis progress, somebody usually gets left behind. No doubt, many of thepeople who are able to stake no claim will feel cheated. No doubt theIndians will think they've been cheated, when cities and towns springup. Especially the Seminoles. They used to own this area--didn'tactually give it up till a few months ago. But with farmers who know theright farming methods, that land will go a long way toward helping feeda hungry world. The Indians couldn't develop it the way the white menare going to do--there aren't enough of them."

  Cindy gave herself over to dreams. Thousands of land-hungry peoplepoised on the border awaiting the signal that would send them across!Wild riding! A mad scramble! Possibly danger. Certainly adventure. Itwas an entrancing picture that she conjured up for herself.

  "I'd love to go along!" she said impulsively.

  "Me too!" Alec seconded. "But Dad says I must stay here and look aftermother and you twins until the claim is ready. I'll look after Grampsand Granny too, Mr. Brent."

  Pete said gently, "Thanks a lot, Alec." He turned to Mindy, "How aboutyou?"

  "I'll wait," Mindy said quietly.

  "You're right," said Pete. "Alec, you and Cindy, and I know it's Cindynow because Mindy's been asking most of the questions, mustn't feelbadly. You're better off here. Oklahoma will be no place for youngsters,or old people, until the claims are staked and everything isstraightened out."

  "I'd still love to go!" Cindy said defiantly.

  "Now forget it!" Pete laughed. "You can't go."

  "Somebody else," Cindy was half in tears, "always has all the fun!"

  "Oh, Cindy!" Pete was hurt because he had hurt her, and he wanted tomake up for it. "I was hoping you'd do a very important job for me here.Can you ride?"

  "Can she ride!" Alec answered for his sister. "The horse hasn't beenborn that can throw Cindy! Mindy's a good rider too."

  "Good!" Pete said. "Now, of my two roan ponies, one is about as fast asthe other. I'm going to saddle both and leave one here for you. As soonas your dad and I have gone, you take the one I leave, ride to thetelegraph station, and send this message to John Brent, care of Dasherand Brent, 816 Fourth Street, New York City. Say: '_The Run is on. Petegone. All is well._' Will you do that?"

  "If you want me to." Cindy suspected that Pete just wanted to give hersomething to do, but she felt a little better anyhow.

  "I'd go," the conscientious Alec stared into the darkness, "but I'm notsupposed to leave Mother. Why'd you ask Dad to ride with you, Mr.Brent?"

  "Because I'd hoped to be able to pick at least one of my neighbors, andI picked the Simpsons."

  "Children," their mother called softly. "Time for bed."

  "See you tomorrow," Pete said as they rose to go. "And you mark mywords. April 22, 1889, the day of this Oklahoma Run, will be a great dayfor the nation. Why, you three will see history made!"