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The nesters are shipping in more stock I heard in town that they're bringing in all they can rustle, thinkin' the stock will pay big money while the claims are getting ready to produce. I heard a couple of marks telling each other just how it was going to work out so as to put 'em all on Easy Street the darned chumps! Free grass that's what they harped on; feed don't cost anything.
Tex smiled: "Nesters is folks that takes up a claim an' fences off a creek somewheres, an' then stays with it 'til, by the grace of God, they either starve to death, or get rich." Alice laughed: "No, I never thought of being a nester. But it would be loads of fun. That is, if " The Texan interrupted her almost rudely: "Yes, an' if they didn't, it would just naturally be hell, wouldn't it?"
They frequently drifted into warm argument as to water-rights and nesters in general matters that did not interest Young Pete at the time, who failed, naturally, to grasp the ultimate meaning of the talk.
I don't like them nesters Dakota especially and I'd like mighty well to get something on them. But I ain't taking any chances on Dakota." "Why?" Again the monosyllable was pregnant with scorn. "I forgot that you ain't acquainted out here," laughed the manager. "No one is taking any chances with Dakota not even the sheriff.
The gray bristles on the unshaven face advertised him as well on into middle age. Wrayburn recognized the man as "Peg-Leg" Warren, one of the most troublesome nesters on the river. "He's around here somewhere." Dad turned to Canton. "Seen anything of the old man, Jim?" "Here he comes now." Webb rode up to the group. At sight of Warren and his companion the face of the drover set.
The Kid had heard a good deal, lately, about the trials of his beloved "bunch." About the "nesters" who brought cattle in to eat up the grass that belonged to the cattle of the bunch. The Kid understood that perfectly since he had been raised in the atmosphere of range talk.
The debate of farming versus cows was resumed between the two, but each held doggedly to his own particular views and the longed-for partnership was again postponed. Harris moved once more and then again and it was something over two decades after his departure from Dodge with the Three Bar cows that he made one final shift, faring on in search of that land where nesters were unknown.
To the south, a ranch at Willow Spring, where a stubborn cattleman hung on in spite of growing barrenness due to the hated sheep, was forty miles away. To east and west was no one within calling distance. At Sulphur Falls were two or three "nesters," irrigating land from the river, a store or two and a road house run by an unsavory holdover of the old days named "Snake" Murphy.
"Let's get together," he said, when the others had passed on. "Why are you so dead set on making a squatter outfit of the Three Bar? Don't you know the nesters will flock in here and cut the range all up as soon as they see a chance?" "Not my range," she said.
The mournful barking of young foxes, anxious for their dinners, thrilled the air with sounds of woe. Among the smaller birds the early nesters were already twittering in minor among the trees and thickets; a mountain-eagle cleft the air in the hawk's trail, so high that only a keen eye could have caught sight of him.
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