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Updated: June 24, 2025
There was no atom of snobbery in Dave's nature; he knew perfectly well that shovelling coal was quite as honourable and respectable a means of livelihood as managing a bank, but the man who was content to shovel coal was on the dead-line. . . And, by the same logic, the man who was content to manage a bank was on the dead-line. That was a new and somewhat startling aspect of life.
Fully one hundred miles on the north, a dead-line was drawn from Powderville on that watercourse eastward to a spur of the Powder River Mountains, thus setting aside a quarantine ground ample to accommodate half a million cattle.
Why should a doctor reach his highest professional value at seventy, and a parson be past the "dead-line" at forty-five? Here he was, subject to the caprice and ill-will of a sour and miserly Senior Warden, and a cowed and at least partially "bossed" vestry and he, the rector, with no practical power of appeal for the enforcement of his legal contract.
At last Barney MacTague dared me to drive the Yellow Peril past the dead-line down by the Pavilion and on up the hill to Sutro Baths.
An invisible air-line shot suddenly between the North and the South, destined to drop some day and lie a dead-line on the earth, and on each side of it two hordes of brothers, who thought themselves two hostile peoples, were shrinking away from each other with the half-conscious purpose of making ready for a charge.
Where both lines are fighting without cover as in a charge met by a counter-charge each has its "dead-line," and between the two is a clear space neutral ground, devoid of dead, for the living cannot reach it to fall there. I observed this phenomenon at Pickett's Mill. Standing at the right of the line I had an unobstructed view of the narrow, open space across which the two lines fought.
The first herd of cattle had located nicely, one man being sufficient to hold the dead-line; and taking a pack horse, Joel and Manly started to explore the country between the upper tributaries of the Beaver and the Colorado line. A rifle was taken along to insure venison.
There was no question of precedence or any such nonsense. Everybody knew everybody else, with one exception. Colonel Raleigh was a comparative stranger. But he was a likable old fellow, full of stories of the wild, free West, an excellent listener besides, who always stopped a goodly distance on the right side of what is known in polite circles as the bore's dead-line.
For Gray Wolf went down twice to sniff at the dead bodies, and each time without seeing she went when the mother beaver had come to the dead-line. The first fierce animus had worn itself from Kazan's blood, and he now watched the beavers closely. He had learned that they were not fighters. They were many to one and yet they ran from him like a lot of rabbits.
Thereupon a violent discussion arose over the question of the right of a sheepman to claim first grass for his flocks, and Gregg boasted that he cared nothing for "the dead-line." "I'll throw my sheep where I please," he declared. "They've tried to run me out of Deer Creek, but I'm there to stay. I have ten thousand more on the way, and the man that tries to stop me will find trouble."
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