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Updated: May 2, 2025
These breeders during the dry season leave the mesas and climb to the top of the very highest mountains, and, of course, the more cattle the less game. A year ago I was in the Harshaw Mountains, and was told by a young man named Sorrell that a bunch of wild cattle occupied a certain peak, and that on a certain occasion he had seen a big mountain sheep with the cattle.
"Pay her well for her pictures, and she'll make your Thousand Springs look like Ten Thousand." Tom was charmed with my intelligence, and Kitty, poor child, would go anywhere, in any conceivable company, to get even with Cecil Harshaw on that hateful money transaction. When I told her she would have to submit to his presence on the trip, she shrugged her shoulders.
But I notice that since our arrival at Broadlands, Harshaw has not troubled her with his attentions. They might be the most indifferent strangers, for all that his manner implies. And if she is not pleased with the change, she ought to be, for she has made her wishes plain. Camp at the Thousand Springs.
I thought Cecil Harshaw was very much a man, as men go, and I saw nothing, frankly, so very far amiss with his behavior. "It's very kind of you, Mrs. Daly, to defend him, I am sure. I suppose he could do no less than propose to me, after he had brought me out to marry a man who didn't appear to be quite ready; and if it had to be done, it was best to do it quickly."
"I think you spoke of him as a boy, if I remember." "If I called him a boy, it was out of charity for his behavior. He's within six months of my own age." "And you don't call yourself a girl any longer!" I laughed. "It's always 'girls' and 'men," she said. "If Cecil Harshaw is not a man now, he never will be." I didn't know, I said, what the point at issue was between us.
When we had come within sight of Broadlands Ferry, all aboard except Kitty, and still not a sign nor a sound of her, our hearts began to soften toward that willful girl. Tom requested Harshaw to jump out and see if he couldn't round up his countrywoman. But Harshaw rather haughtily resigned in favor of a better man, he said.
There was small chance for conversation, and in any case neither of them was in the mood for talk. Bob's sensitive soul did not want to risk the likelihood of a rebuff. He was susceptible to atmospheres, and he knew that Buck was sulky at being saddled with him. He was right. Buck did not see why Harshaw had put this outcast tenderfoot on him. He did not see why he had hired him at all.
They held a consultation. It was bitter weather, the wind still blowing. "Have to camp, looks like," Harshaw said. "We'll have a mighty tough night without grub and blankets," Dud said doubtfully. "She's gettin' colder every minute." "There's a sheltered draw below here. We'll get a good fire going anyhow." In the gulch they found a band of elk. "Here's our supper an' our beds," Dud said.
Ain't two to one good enough?" jeered Houck angrily. "Not good enough right now. Maybe some other time, Mr. Houck," Dud replied, his temper unruffled. "You want it to be twelve to one, like it was last time, eh?" "Harshaw will be lookin' for us, so we'll be sayin' good-evenin'," the rider for the Slash Lazy D said quietly. He turned his horse to go, as did his companion.
From a word she lets slip now and then, I gather that she is brooding over that fancy of hers that Cecil Harshaw offered himself by way of reparation, as she was falling between two stools, her own home and her lover's, to save her from the ground.
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