第48章 ALL IN THE DAY'S WORK(3)

"Yes, he is," said G--G Cederdall in Spanish, bristling up to the vaquero who had volunteered the reply; "and we'll bury him and a half-dozen more of you if necessary, but the cattle will not be abandoned--not for a single hour.Pablo is dead, but he was no better than a hundred other men who have lost their lives on this trail.If you are a lot of locoed sheep-herders instead of vaqueros, why didn't you stay at home with the children instead of starting out to do a man's work.Desert your employer, will you? Not in a country where there is no chance to pick up other men.Yes, Pablo is dead, and we'll bury him."The aliens were disconcerted, and wilted.The owner picked up courage and ordered the cook to prepare dinner.We loaned our horses to the wrangler and another man, the remuda was brought in, and before we sat down to the midday meal, every vaquero had a horse under saddle, while two of them had ridden away to look after the grazing cattle.With order restored, we set about systematically to lay away the unfortunate man.A detail of vaqueros under Cederdall prepared a grave on the nearest knoll, and wrapping the corpse in a tarpaulin, we buried him like a sailor at sea.Several vaqueros were visibly affected at the graveside, and in order to pacify them, I suggested that we unload the wagon of supplies and haul up a load of rock from a near-by outcropping ledge.Pablo had fallen like a good soldier at his post, I urged, and it was befitting that his comrades should mark his last resting-place.To our agreeable surprise the corporal hurrahed his men and the wagon was unloaded in a jiffy and dispatched after a load of rock.On its return, we spent an hour in decorating the mound, during which time lament was expressed for the future of Pablo's soul.Knowing the almost universal faith of this alien race, as we stood around the finished mound, Cederdall, who was Catholic born, called for contributions to procure the absolution of the Church.The owner of the cattle was the first to respond, and with the aid of my boys and myself, augmented later by the vaqueros, a purse of over fifty dollars was raised and placed in charge of the corporal, to be expended in a private mass on their return to San Antonio.

Meanwhile the herd and saddle stock had started, and reloading the wagon, we cast a last glance at the little mound which made a new landmark on the old trail.

The owner of the cattle was elated over the restoration of order.My contempt for him, however, had not decreased; the old maxim of fools rushing in where angels feared to tread had only been again exemplified.The inferior races may lack in courage and leadership, hut never in cunning and craftiness.This alien outfit had detected some weakness in the armor of their new employer, and when the emergency arose, were ready to take advantage of the situation.Yet under an old patron, these same men would never dare to mutiny or assert themselves.That there were possible breakers ahead for this cowman there was no doubt;for every day that those Mexicans traveled into a strange country, their Aztec blood would yearn for their Southern home.

And since the unforeseen could not be guarded against, at the first opportunity I warned the stranger that it was altogether too soon to shout.To his anxious inquiries I replied that his very presence with the herd was a menace to its successful handling by the Mexican outfit.He should throw all responsibility on the foreman, or take charge himself, which was impossible now; for an outfit which will sulk and mutiny once will do so again under less provocation.When my curtain lecture was ended, the owner authorized me to call his outfit together and give them such instructions as I saw fit.

We sighted our cattle but once during the afternoon.On locating the herd, two of my boys left us to return, hearing the message that the rest of us might not put in an appearance before morning.All during the evening, I made it a point to cultivate the acquaintance of several vaqueros, and learned the names of their master and rancho.Taking my cue from the general information gathered, when we encamped for the night and all hands, with the exception of those on herd, had finished catching horses, I attracted their attention by returning the six-shooter taken from their corporal at noontime.Commanding attention, in their mother tongue I addressed myself to the Mexican foreman.

"Felipe Esquibil," said I, looking him boldly in the face, "you were foreman of this herd from Zavalla County, Texas, to the Arkansaw River, and brought your cattle through without loss or accident.

The herd changed owners at Dodge, but with the understanding that you and your vaqueros were to accompany the cattle to this gentleman's ranch in the upper country.An accident happens, and because you are not in full control, you shift the responsibility and play the baby act by wanting to go home.Had the death of one of your men occurred below the river, and while the herd was still the property of Don Dionisio of Rancho Los Olmus, you would have lost your own life before abandoning your cattle.Now, with the consent and approval of the new owner, you are again invested with full charge of this herd until you arrive at the Platte River.A new outfit will relieve you on reaching Ogalalla, and then you will he paid your reckoning and all go home.In your immediate rear are five herds belonging to my employer, and Ihave already sent warning to them of your attempted desertion.Afortnight or less will find you relieved, and the only safety in store for you is to go forward.Now your employer is going to my camp for the night, and may not see you again before this herd reaches the Platte.Remember, Don Felipe, that the opportunity is yours to regain your prestige as a corporal--and you need it after to-day's actions.What would Don Dionisio say if he knew the truth? And do you ever expect to face your friends again at Los Olmus? From a trusted corporal back to a sheep-shearer would be your reward--and justly."Cederdall, Wolf, and myself shook hands with several vaqueros, and mounting our horses we started for my camp, taking the stranger with us.Only once did he offer any protest to going.

"Very well, then," replied G--G, unable to suppress his contempt, "go right back.I'll gamble that you sheathe a knife before morning if you do.It strikes me you don't sabe Mexicans very much."Around the camp-fire that night, the day's work was reviewed.My rather drastic treatment of the corporal was fully commented upon and approved by the outfit, yet provoked an inquiry from the irrepressible Parent.Turning to the questioner, Burl Van Vedder said in dove-like tones: "Yes, dear, slapped him just to remind the varmint that his feet were on the earth, and that pawing the air and keening didn't do any good.Remember, love, there was the living to be fed, the dead to bury, and the work in hand required every man to do his duty.Now was there anything else you'd like to know?"