Wild Western Tales 2: 101 Classic Western Stories Vol. 2 (Civitas Library Classics)
Various
Civitas Library Classics
WILD WESTERN TALES 2
101 Classic Western Stories Vol. 2
by Various
Table of Contents
A COLLEGE VAGABOND Andy Adams
RANGERING Andy Adams
SIEGERMAN’S PER CENT Andy Adams
THE DOUBLE TRAIL Andy Adams
THE PASSING OF PEG-LEG Andy Adams
THE SHADOW OF THE GREENBACK Robert Bar
THE REAL AND THE MAKE-BELIEVE Rex Beach
WITH BRIDGES BURNED Rex Beach
WITH INTEREST TO DATE Rex Beach
THE SPIRIT OF THE RANGE B.M. Bower
THE UNHEAVENLY TWINS B.M. Bower
WHEN THE COOK FELL ILL B.M. Bower
THE GHOST Max Brand
A PRAIRIE INFANTA Eva Wilder Brodhead
MARTIN GARRITY GETS EVEN Courtney Ryley Cooper
RANGER STYLE J. Allan Dunn
THE GOLDEN TRAIL J. Allan Dunn
A CRISIS FOR THE GUARD John Fox, Jr.
A PURPLE RHODODENDRON John Fox, Jr.
A TRICK O' TRADE John Fox, Jr.
CHRISTMAS EVE ON LONESOME John Fox, Jr.
CHRISTMAS NIGHT WITH SATAN John Fox, Jr.
COURTIN' ON CUTSHIN John Fox, Jr.
THE LAST STETSON John Fox, Jr.
A MISSOURI SCHOOLMARM Zane Grey
NONNEZOSHE, THE RAINBOW BRIDGE Zane Grey
TAPPAN'S BURRO Zane Grey
THE CAMP ROBBER Zane Grey
THE GREAT SLAVE Zane Grey
AN ESMERALDA OF ROCKY CANYON Bret Harte
A NIGHT AT WINGDAM Bret Harte
DICK SPINDLER'S FAMILY CHRISTMAS Bret Harte
LIBERTY JONES'S DISCOVERY Bret Harte
MR. JACK HAMLIN'S MEDIATION Bret Harte
THE ADVENTURE OF PADRE VINCENTIO Bret Harte
THE BOOM IN THE "CALAVERAS CLARION" Bret Harte
THE DEVIL AND THE BROKER Bret Harte
THE MYSTERY OF THE HACIENDA Bret Harte
THE SECRET OF SOBRIENTE'S WELL Bret Harte
THE SHERIFF OF SISKYOU Bret Harte
WHEN THE WATERS WERE UP AT "JULES'" Bret Harte
YOUNG ROBIN GRAY Bret Harte
PISTOL POLITICS Robert E. Howard
SHARP'S GUN SERENADE Robert E. Howard
TEXAS JOHN ALDEN Robert E. Howard
THE APACHE MOUNTAIN WAR Robert E. Howard
THE CONQUERIN' HERO OF THE HUMBOLTS Robert E. Howard
THE FEUD BUSTER Robert E. Howard
THE HAUNTED MOUNTAIN Robert E. Howard
THE RIOT AT COUGAR PAW Robert E. Howard
HOW COLONEL KATE WON HER SPURS Florence Finch Kelly
OUT OF SYMPATHY Florence Finch Kelly
OUT OF THE MOUTH OF BABES Florence Finch Kelly
POSEY Florence Finch Kelly
THE KID OF APACHE TEJU Florence Finch Kelly
THE RISE, FALL, AND REDEMPTION OF JOHNSON SIDES Florence Finch Kelly
THE STORY OF A CHINEE KID Florence Finch Kelly
CYNTHIANA, PET-NAMED ORIGINAL SIN Alfred Henry Lewis
DEAD SHOT BAKER Alfred Henry Lewis
HOW THE MOCKING BIRD WAS WON Alfred Henry Lewis
HOW TUTT SHOT TEXAS THOMPSON Alfred Henry Lewis
OLD MAN ENRIGHT'S UNCLE Alfred Henry Lewis
OLD MONTE, OFFICIAL DRUNKARD Alfred Henry Lewis
PROPRIETY PRATT, HYPNOTIST Alfred Henry Lewis
RED MIKE Alfred Henry Lewis
SPELLING BOOK BEN Alfred Henry Lewis
THAT TURNER PERSON Alfred Henry Lewis
THAT WOLFVILLE-RED DOG FOURTH Alfred Henry Lewis
A RIDE WITH A MAD HORSE IN A FREIGHT-CAR W. H. H. Murray
HOW DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY CELEBRATED NEW YEAR'S W. H. H. Murray
THE LAST PROTEST Henry Oyen
THE WHISPERER Gilbert Parker
THE BLUE QUAIL OF THE CACTUS Frederic Remington
THE SOLEDAD GIRLS Frederic Remington
THE SPIRIT OF MAHONGUI Frederic Remington
THE STRANGE DAYS THAT CAME TO JIMMIE FRIDAY Frederic Remington
THE SEWING-MACHINE STORY Frank H. Spearman
MARY Horace Annesley Vachell
MINTIE Horace Annesley Vachell
OLD MAN BOBO'S MANDY Horace Annesley Vachell
ONE WHO DIED Horace Annesley Vachell
PAP SPOONER Horace Annesley Vachell
THE BABE Horace Annesley Vachell
THE BARON Horace Annesley Vachell
THE DUMBLES Horace Annesley Vachell
UNCLE JAP'S LILY Horace Annesley Vachell
WILKINS AND HIS DINAH Horace Annesley Vachell
THE RACE Stewart Edward White
THE RIVER-BOSS Stewart Edward White
THE RIVERMAN Stewart Edward White
THE SAVING GRACE Stewart Edward White
THE SCALER Stewart Edward White
THE TWO CARTRIDGES Stewart Edward White
A KINSMAN OF RED CLOUD Owen Wister
A PILGRIM ON THE GILA Owen Wister
HANK'S WOMAN Owen Wister
THE JIMMYJOHN BOSS Owen Wister
THE PROMISED LAND Owen Wister
THE SECOND MISSOURI COMPROMISE Owen Wister
THE SERENADE AT SISKIYOU Owen Wister
TWENTY MINUTES FOR REFRESHMENTS Owen Wister
Contents
A COLLEGE VAGABOND
By Andy Adams
The ease and apparent willingness with which some men revert to an aimless life can best be accounted for by the savage or barbarian instincts of our natures. The West has produced many types of the vagabond,--it might be excusable to say, won them from every condition of society. From the cultured East, with all the advantages which wealth and educational facilities can give to her sons, they flocked; from the South, with her pride of ancestry, they came; even the British Isles contributed their quota. There was something in the primitive West of a generation or more ago which satisfied them. Nowhere else could it be found, and once they adapted themselves to existing conditions, they were loath to return to former associations.
About the middle of the fifties, there graduated from one of our Eastern colleges a young man of wealthy and distinguished family. His college record was good, but close application to study during the last year had told on his general health. His ambition, coupled with a laudable desire to succeed, had buoyed up his strength until the final graduation day had passed.
Alexander Wells had the advantage of a good physical constitution. During the first year at college his reputation as an athlete had been firmly established by many a hard fought contest in the college games. The last two years he had not taken an active part in them, as his studies had required his complete attention. On his return home, it was thought by parents and sisters that rest and recreation would soon restore the health of this overworked young graduate, who was now two years past his majority. Two months of rest, however, failed to produce any improvement, but the family physician would not admit that there was immediate danger, and declared the trouble simply the result of overstudy, advising travel. This advice was very satisfactory to the young man, for he had a longing to see other sections of the country.
The elder Wells some years previously had become interested in western and southern real estate, and among other investments which he had made was the purchase of an old Spanish land grant on a stream called the Salado, west of San Antonio, Texas. These land grants were made by the crown of Spain to favorite subjects. They were known by name, which they always retained when changing ownership.
Some of these tracts were princely domains, and were bartered about as though worthless, often changing owners at the card-table.
So when travel was suggested to Wells, junior, he expressed a desire to visit this family possession, and possibly spend a winter in its warm climate. This decision was more easily reached from the fact that there was an abundance of game on the land, and being a devoted sportsman, his own consent was secured in advance. No other reason except that of health would ever have gained the consent of his mother to a six months' absence. But within a week after reaching the decision, the young man had left New York and was on his way to Texas. His route, both by water and rail, brought him only within eighty miles of his destination, and the rest of the distance he was obliged to travel by stage.
San Antonio at this time was a frontier village, with a mixed population, the Mexican being the most prominent inhabitant. There was much to be seen which was new and attractive to the young Easterner, and he tarried in it several days, enjoying its novel and picturesque life. The arrival and departure of the various stage lines for the accommodation of travelers like himself was of more than passing interest. They rattled in from Austin and Laredo. They were sometimes late from El Paso, six hundred miles to the westward. Probably a brush with the Indians, or the more to be dreaded Mexican bandits (for these stages carried treasure--gold and silver, the currency of the country), was the cause of the delay. Frequently they carried guards, whose presence was generally sufficient to command the respect of the average robber.
Then there were the freight trains, the motive power of which was mules and oxen. It was necessary to carry forward supplies and bring back the crude products of the country. The Chihuahua wagon was drawn sometimes by twelve, sometimes by twenty mules, four abreast in the swing, the leaders and wheelers being single teams. For mutual protection trains were made up of from ten to twenty wagons. Drivers frequently meeting a chance acquaintance going in an opposite direction would ask, "What is your cargo?" and the answer would be frankly given, "Specie." Many a Chihuahua wagon carried three or four tons of gold and silver, generally the latter. Here was a new book for this college lad, one he had never studied, though it was more interesting to him than some he had read. There was something thrilling in all this new life. He liked it. The romance was real; it was not an imitation. People answered his few questions and asked none in return.
In this frontier village at a late hour one night young Wells overheard this conversation: "Hello, Bill," said the case-keeper in a faro game, as he turned his head halfway round to see who was the owner of the monster hand which had just reached over his shoulder and placed a stack of silver dollars on a card, marking it to win, "I've missed you the last few days. Where have you been so long?"
"Oh, I've just been out to El Paso on a little pasear guarding the stage," was the reply. Now the little pasear was a continuous night and day round-trip of twelve hundred miles. Bill had slept and eaten as he could. When mounted, he scouted every possible point of ambush for lurking Indian or bandit. Crossing open stretches of country, he climbed up on the stage and slept. Now having returned, he was anxious to get his wages into circulation. Here were characters worthy of a passing glance.
Interesting as this frontier life was to the young man, he prepared for his final destination. He had no trouble in locating his father's property, for it was less than twenty miles from San Antonio. Securing an American who spoke Spanish, the two set out on horseback. There were several small ranchitos on the tract, where five or six Mexican families lived. Each family had a field and raised corn for bread. A flock of goats furnished them milk and meat. The same class of people in older States were called squatters, making no claim to ownership of the land. They needed little clothing, the climate being in their favor.
The men worked at times. The pecan crop which grew along the creek bottoms was beginning to have a value in the coast towns for shipment to northern markets, and this furnished them revenue for their simple needs. All kinds of game was in abundance, including waterfowl in winter, though winter here was only such in name. These simple people gave a welcome to the New Yorker which appeared sincere. They offered no apology for their presence on this land, nor was such in order, for it was the custom of the country. They merely referred to themselves as "his people," as though belonging to the land.
When they learned that he was the son of the owner of the grant, and that he wanted to spend a few months hunting and looking about, they considered themselves honored. The best jacal in the group was tendered him and his interpreter. The food offered was something new, but the relish with which his companion partook of it assisted young Wells in overcoming his scruples, and he ate a supper of dishes he had never tasted before. The coffee he declared was delicious.
On the advice of his companion they had brought along blankets. The women of the ranchito brought other bedding, and a comfortable bed soon awaited the Americanos. The owner of the jacal in the mean time informed his guest through the interpreter that he had sent to a near-by ranchito for a man who had at least the local reputation of being quite a hunter. During the interim, while awaiting the arrival of the man, he plied his guest with many questions regarding the outside world, of which his ideas were very simple, vague, and extremely provincial. His conception of distance was what he could ride in a given number of days on a good pony. His ideas of wealth were no improvement over those of his Indian ancestors of a century previous. In architecture, the jacal in which they sat satisfied his ideals.
The footsteps of a horse interrupted their conversation. A few moments later, Tiburcio, the hunter, was introduced to the two Americans with a profusion of politeness. There was nothing above the ordinary in the old hunter, except his hair, eyes, and swarthy complexion, which indicated his Aztec ancestry. It might be in perfect order to remark here that young Wells was perfectly composed, almost indifferent to the company and surroundings. He shook hands with Tiburcio in a manner as dignified, yet agreeable, as though he was the governor of his native State or the minister of some prominent church at home. From this juncture, he at once took the lead in the conversation, and kept up a line of questions, the answers to which were very gratifying. He learned that deer were very plentiful everywhere, and that on this very tract of land were several wild turkey roosts, where it was no trouble to bag any number desired. On the prairie portion of the surrounding country could be found large droves of antelope. During drouthy periods they were known to come twenty miles to quench their thirst in the Salado, which was the main watercourse of this grant. Once Tiburcio assured his young patron that he had frequently counted a thousand antelope during a single morning. Then there was also the javeline or peccary which abounded in endless numbers, but it was necessary to hunt them with dogs, as they kept the thickets and came out in the open only at night. Many a native cur met his end hunting these animals, cut to pieces with their tusks, so that packs, trained for the purpose, were used to bay them until the hunter could arrive and dispatch them with a rifle. Even this was always done from horseback, as it was dangerous to approach the javeline, for they would, when aroused, charge anything.
All this was gratifying to young Wells, and like a congenial fellow, he produced and showed the old hunter a new gun, the very latest model in the market, explaining its good qualities through his interpreter. Tiburcio handled it as if it were a rare bit of millinery, but managed to ask its price and a few other questions. Through his companion, Wells then engaged the old hunter's services for the following day; not that he expected to hunt, but he wanted to acquaint himself with the boundaries of the land and to become familiar with the surrounding country. Naming an hour for starting in the morning, the two men shook hands and bade each other good-night, each using his own language to express the parting, though neither one knew a word the other said. The first link in a friendship not soon to be broken had been forged.
Tiburcio was on hand at the appointed hour in the morning, and being joined by the two Americans th
ey rode off up the stream. It was October, and the pecans, they noticed, were already falling, as they passed through splendid groves of this timber, several times dismounting to fill their pockets with nuts. Tiburcio frequently called attention to fresh deer tracks near the creek bottom, and shortly afterward the first game of the day was sighted. Five or six does and grown fawns broke cover and ran a short distance, stopped, looked at the horsemen, and then capered away.
Riding to the highest ground in the vicinity, they obtained a splendid view of the stream, outlined by the foliage of the pecan groves that lined its banks as far as the eye could follow either way. Tiburcio pointed out one particular grove lying three or four miles farther up the creek. Here he said was a cabin which had been built by a white man who had left it several years ago, and which he had often used as a hunting camp in bad weather. Feeling his way cautiously, Wells asked the old hunter if he were sure that this cabin was on and belonged to the grant. Being assured on both points, he then inquired if there was anything to hinder him from occupying the hut for a few months. On the further assurance that there was no man to dispute his right, he began plying his companions with questions. The interpreter told him that it was a very common and simple thing for men to batch, enumerating the few articles he would need for this purpose.
They soon reached the cabin, which proved to be an improvement over the ordinary jacal of the country, as it had a fireplace and chimney. It was built of logs; the crevices were chinked with clay for mortar, its floor being of the same substance. The only Mexican feature it possessed was the thatched roof. While the Americans were examining it and its surroundings, Tiburcio unsaddled the horses, picketing one and hobbling the other two, kindled a fire, and prepared a lunch from some articles he had brought along. The meal, consisting of coffee, chipped venison, and a thin wafer bread made from corn and reheated over coals, was disposed of with relish. The two Americans sauntered around for some distance, and on their return to the cabin found Tiburcio enjoying his siesta under a near-by pecan tree.
