Caleb: A Western tale, circa 1880's

Chapter Nine

The rancher's wife was starting to grow round with pregnancy by the time the barn was finished. He'd used the scrap lumber to build a small smokehouse then endeavored to fill it with pork. Now that the garden was in and the snows about due, his wife spent a good deal of her time inside the house, making curtains and rugs instead of helping her husband with the building.

"I'm gonna' ride up to the ridge today," he told her one day, after the buildings were all up and after morning chores were finished. "If I don't come back by tomorrow night, call in the army. I'll leave the wagon ready and the team in harness."

"I don't want to call in the army, so you'd best be gettin' back here." She grinned at him to soften the scolding tone she'd used, making light of her fears.

Her husband grinned back. "Yes, Ma'am," he answered; then went out to mount up his favorite saddle horse. As he neared the ridge, he stopped and built a fire, leaving the horse ground-tied. Once the fire was going well, he added a bit of his pipe-tobacco, allowing the fragrant smoke to drift into the trees that grew along the ridge.

After an hour or so, three braves came out from the trees. "You build much," observed the oldest of the three. "And you and the flame-haired squaw go boldly, since all who come before you go missing."

"Flame-haired woman wants it done before winter," answered the cowboy lazily.

"You take orders from the flame-haired squaw?"

"She packs a good pipe but doesn't smoke it." His reply made the other men grin. They seemed to accept his reason for wanting to please his wife. "Flame-haired woman is also waiting for me to return. If I do not, she will call in the army."

"Why do you tell us these things?" questioned the spokesman for the group.

"Because all who come before me go missing," he grinned at them, showing no fear. "I filed claim on these lands, from the far side of the ridge to the high trees, from the deep basin to the big house."

"These are our lands. We will not leave them." Their expressions turned hard.

He held up his hands, making a conciliatory gesture. "Whoa, slow down there, Partner. I ain't asking you to leave! You got it good here, small herd of buffalo, wapiti in the trees, good water; I can respect that. Heck, I want the same for myself. Nope, I ain't asking you to leave. What I'm asking for is your help."

Their eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What help? Why would we help you?"

"I intend to fence this land, all of it, so nobody comes in and none of my cattle go out. It will protect us from outsiders, this fence. If you will keep my fence fixed and help some with my cattle, I will leave the buffalo for your use instead of shooting them off as some are doing and we'll share use of the horses I bring in. You stay, I stay.

"We'll keep the army from finding and taking you to the reservation, Flame-haired woman and I; and your children will be friends with our children." Deliberately, he took out his pipe and his tobacco, filled the pipe and lit it. After a few puffs, he passed it around to the other men. "Talk it over with your braves and your squaws. I'll come back in a few days so we can smoke again."

"Well?" asked the flame-haired woman that night. "Did you see them?" She took another spoonful of her pea soup and chewed thoughtfully on the chunk of ham that came with it.

He nodded around a mouthful of her biscuit, swallowed and grinned. "I offered them a deal. Come Wednesday, I'll see if they take it. If they do, I'll have a lot of fence posts to cut." Her only reply was to shake her head, for she considered his notions as foolish and didn't seriously expect them to work.