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Updated: May 25, 2025
She's head push on the grub-pile, I believe, and wants to make sure there's enough to go around. There's about two hundred and fifty calves left. If you can't finish up to-night, it'll be your funeral." "Well, I betche it'll rain before we git through it always does, when you don't want it to," gloomed Happy, seizing another calf.
As he did so the raucous clanging of a bell sounded from the direction of the ranch-house, accompanied by a stentorian shout: "Grub-pile!" which galvanized the punchers into action. Stratton and the boy were the last to leave the room, and as he reached the door Buck noticed a tiny wisp of smoke curling up from the floor to one side of the stove.
Coming down coast from the Kotzebue country they stumbled onto the little camp in the early winter, and as there was food a plenty, of its kind, whereas they had subsisted for some days on puree of seal oil and short ribs of dog, Captain and Big George decided to winter. A maxim of the north teaches to cabin by a grub-pile. It was an odd village they beheld that first day.
Tom quickly volunteered: "Why, sure! I'm a family man. "Family man!" Jerry snorted, derisively. "He had one head, mister, and he lost it inside of a month. I'm a better nurse than him." "Bien! I tak' you both," said 'Poleon. But Jerry emphatically declined the invitation. "Cut me out if you aim to make it three-handed I'd Jim the deck, sure. No, I'll set around and watch my grub-pile."
As she turned her sorrel, Papoose, into the corral she noticed several four-year-old colts in the pasture lot. As she returned to the house Harris appeared in the door. "Grub-pile," he announced. They sat down to a meal of broiled steak, mashed potatoes, hot biscuits, coffee and raspberry jam.
"When that log house was headquarters for the ranch, and the round-pole corrals were the only fences on the place," he said; "when those old sheds held the saddle horses on cold nights, and the wagons were out from green grass to snowfall, and the boys laid around all winter, just reportin' regular at grub-pile and catching up on sleep they'd lost in the summer Lor-dee, what a place it must have been!"
They can't raise co'n in this high country, and not much of anything but grass. They won't bother us no mo'. It's a good cattle country, but a mighty tough range to ride, as you'll find. I thought I knew what rough riding was, but when it comes to racin' over these granite knobs, I'm jest a little too old. I'm getting heavy, too, you notice." "Grub-pile!
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