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Updated: May 12, 2025
He visited every outfit and greeted the owner or the foreman with the same words in every case. "I've come to cut your herd for my brand." That was the law of the cattle-trails; every man had the right to seek out his strays in the country through which he had passed. But it was not the custom along the Pecos.
"Because any new feller buyin' stock in Pecos these days will be rustled quicker'n he can say Jack Robinson. The pioneers, the new cattlemen these are easy pickin'. But the new fellers have to learn the ropes. They don't know anythin' or anybody. An' the old ranchers are wise an' sore. They'd fight if they...." "What?" I put in as he paused. "If they knew who was rustling the stock?" "Nope."
Knowing this, we made direct for the mountains, with whose passes I was familiar, having traversed them in pursuit of the savages. "We passed safely through the Sierra, and kept on towards the Rio Pecos. Beyond this river all was unknown to us.
I want to go home. When can you take me?" They remonstrated with me and pleaded and scolded, all to little avail. Then they were persuaded to take me seriously, to plan, providing I improved, to start in a few days. We were to ride out of Pecos County together, back along the stage trail to civilization. The look in Sally's eyes decided my measure of improvement.
"Fellers," he said, "this meetin' bein' held on the Pecos, I reckon we'll open her by singin' 'Shall We Gather at the River? Of course we're already gathered, but the song sort o' fits. No gammon now, fellers; everybody sings that knows her." The result was discouraging. Few in the audience knew any hymn, much less this one. Only three or four managed to hoarsely drawl through two verses.
The Kansas Historical Society ought to get the Indian side of the history of all these wars between the whites and Indians. "Respectfully yours, Pecos Church. I will call attention to the Old Pecos Church which was probably owned by the Roman Catholics at one time, but which was in ruins when I first saw it, as I drove by with my stage coach to Santa Fe.
Justice, he calls it." "Well, one thing!" roared Garvey, thumping the bar. "There ain't no law west o' the Pecos! And he's west o' the Pecos now! The only law here is this kind," and he tapped his .44. "What's happened to yore gun?" one of them asked. Garvey's face suddenly went dark red. "I dropped it this mornin' and busted the handle," he lied.
"I hear they've put a cattle car up next ter ther injine fer sech sensitive people like you. Yer might enj'y a leetle siesta on ther straw." Ben sank back into his seat, and began to snore gently. "What about the story down on the Pecos, Bud?" said Dick. "You'd like to hear it, eh? Then I'll tell it to you.
The Pecos River is particularly dangerous on account of its quicksandy nature, and it was my custom, when having to cross the mess wagon, to send across the ramuda of two or three hundred saddle horses to tramp the river-bed solid beforehand.
I discovered that less and less the old wild spirit abided with me and I become conscious of a dull, deep-seated ache in my breast, a pang in the bone. From that day there was a change in Diane Sampson. She became feverishly active. She wanted to ride, to see for herself what was going on in Linrock, to learn of that wild Pecos county life at first hand.
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