Sowing on the Mountain

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Just when she had her pack ready, Arlene knocked at the door. Mary asked her in and started more coffee. What with all the socializing, she'd probably run out before the end of her hitch.

"Glad you made it home okay," Arlene said.

"Was there any doubt?"

"Maybe a little. But that's not why I came. Is Harvey around?"

"He just left to ride up to Big Sandy Lake."

"Damn! There are some sheepherders raising hell. Bertolli's guys are working out of a wagon over by our horse pasture. One of 'em told me that Echeverry drove a band right through the horse pasture and then split up the Bertolli sheep and ran 'em into the woods so they could push a band up the trail ahead. Some of their sheep got mixed in Echeverry's herd and he won't let the Bertolli guys cut 'em out."

"Yow! I'll call Harv on the radio and let him know." She went out of the trees, where the radio seemed to work better.

"Hogan, this is Browne."

"Browne, this is Harv. What's up?"

"Arlene from the Lodge is looking for you. There's trouble with sheep: Echeverry and Bertolli's herders."

"10-4. I'll turn around and ride by the Lodge. Anything else?"

"That's it. Browne clear."

She relayed the message to Arlene, who finished her coffee and headed back. I wonder if Princess Dee is getting all this down? Mary thought. Maybe she's only interested in conflict between livestock and backpackers. Whatever. Time to head out.

She locked the door and set off, Gris trotting at her side, with swerves to sniff or chase ground squirrels. As she passed the Diamond Lake junction, she heard Harv calling Pinedale and asking them to get his boss, Les Boswick, on the radio. Harv spun a tale of woe and asked Les to call Jimmy Bertolli on the phone and ask him to come up and check with his herders. Les should come too. Maybe he could sort things out with Echeverry, since he wouldn't listen to Harv.

Boswick radioed back a few minutes later and said that Bertolli was on his way and they could all meet at the Lodge around noon.

"10-4 on that. Hogan clear."

She camped in the same spot above Big Sandy Lake and tied Gris to a pine, so his howls wouldn't reverberate, but this time he didn't make a peep. She buried a few dog biscuits in the duff, so he could sniff them out and dig them up. She made a circuit, asking a few campers to move their tents away from the lake and then scrambling up to Black Joe and finding a fishing party from the Lodge camped and no problems. When she got back, there were three neat holes in the duff and Gris didn't seem too unhappy. He licked her hand and rolled on his back so she could scratch his speckled belly. At dusk she cooked a meal and then sat on a boulder and scanned for campfires before zipping up her sleeping bag.

Her circuit of Clear, Deep and Temple Lakes was uneventful, except for her swim in the inlet pool, which gave her an instant headache. God, the water was cold up there. But it made her feel, well, pure in a way that a shower didn't: a self-baptism. Could she work that into a song? Probably not. Maybe she should try writing poetry.

Heading back to the Opening, she ran into Harv, slouched on his horse and singing a goofy song: "I don't care if it rains or freezes, Long as I got my Plastic Jesus, Sittin' on the dashboard of my car. . . Howdy!"

"What's that song?"

"It's from Cool Hand Luke."

"I'm going to watch it with Slim."

"Great movie. The best!"

"What happened with the sheep stuff?"

"Lester came up and he and Bertolli had a hissing match with that ol' snake Echeverry. Bertolli did a rough count and was out three markers, so. . ."

"What's a marker?"

"A black or gray sheep. For a band of two thousand, they'll try to put twenty markers in, one for each hundred sheep. That way they can get a quick idea if they've lost any. Anyhow, Les got Echeverry to back off so Jimmy's herders could cut out their sheep and push 'em back. They had to rope a bunch, which is a pain in the butt."

"Are they supposed to do that? Push through a herd that's ahead of them?"

"Nope. But Echeverry doesn't give a. . . durn. He claimed that Jimmy's guys were feeding the driveway instead of trailing, and holding his boys back. Plus he was mad about losing sheep to a bear or two over by Muddy Ridge. There's a government trapper out of Rock Springs but Echeverry tried to get him fired last year, so he won't work up here."

"Not a grizzly I hope."

"Just a black bear or two. Or three. They can be bad news— walk into a herd and start knocking sheep down, bam-bam-bam. I think the noise bothers 'em. When a bear gets in a herd, you can hear it a long way off. Horses don't like bears, either. Good way to get bucked off— jump a bear in the timber."

"Anything else on Trapper?"

"Haven't seen him since I drove up. But Echeverry was cussing him up and down, about the driveway. Claims those dogs are a public nuisance and Trapper should be locked up. I guess he phoned Normie and chewed him out for letting Trapper stay in the cabin."

"What a mess!"

"Oh, one more thing. One of the deputies told me that there was a break-in at the Feed Store in Big Piney. Someone stole a bunch of dog food. He said to keep an eye out for empty bags. It's a funny brand." He got a folded piece of paper out. "IAMS. Fifty-pound sacks."

"I've seen the brand. Expensive. I'll let you know if it shows up here."