Happy Hawkins

CHAPTER SIX

THE RACE

It was mighty pleasant back at the Diamond Dot after things got settled again. Barbie had become a curious little trick with a way of doin' strange things in a sober old-fashioned manner like as if she was a hundred years of age, but was tryin' to hide it.

She was more like Jabez too, which give me a heap of amusement, seein' which one was goin' to win when they straddled a question. Barbie wasn't sassy, not at all; she just didn't seem able to savvy that a few small matters, like age an' parentage an' ownin' the ranch, gave Jabez a sort of a majority vote, as you might say, on all questions. No, Barbie couldn't seem to get callous to this, an' she fought out all differences of opinion from the mere facts o' the case, an' I got to do Jabez the justice of admittin' that he never retreated behind his authority until after he'd been well licked in the open; an' unless it was a mighty important question he took his lickin' like a man. Barbie was game about it too, an' when she got the worst of a fair fight she never put up a howl; but when she had won in the open it used to grind her something fierce to be told point blank that she had to do such an' so, "'Cause she was a girl."

"If tobacco stunts your growth, how's it come 'at old Tank Williams an' George Hendricks an' Happy an' a lot more o' the boys is all over six feet tall," she sez one day durin' a try-out, "while Flap Jack is the smallest man on the place an' he don't never use it at all—'cept when he cuts his finger."

"Things don't allus work alike," sez Jabez, slow an' cautious. "The tall ones would all 'av' been taller if they hadn't used it, an' Flappy, he wouldn't 'a' been able to see out of his boots if he had."

"Well, I don't see as it makes much difference, anyhow," sez she. "I don't want to be so everlastin' tall, so I reckon I'll just smoke four a day an' that'll—"

"I reckon you won't smoke any a day," sez Jabez, gettin' riled. "Smokin' cigarettes is a nasty, filthy habit, an'—"

"Then I'll smoke a pipe," sez Barbie.

"No you won't smoke a pipe! I don't intend to have a gal child of mine smokin' anything. It's disgustin', an—"

"It ain't as disgustin' as chewin', an' you chew," sez Barbie.

"Now you look here!" yells Jabez, hot as a hornet, "I'm a man an' you ain't, an' that makes a heap o' difference. I had to give up cussin' on your account, but I don't intend to go to wearin' dresses complete, just to keep you halfway respectable."

"Yes, an' I got three cusses comin' to me too," sez Barbie. "I heard you over at the hay-barn yesterday."

"That don't count—the agreement was, 'about the house'; an' besides, you didn't have no call to be there."

"Yes I did. I couldn't light my cigarette out in the wind so I got behind the barn. You are the one 'at didn't have no call to cuss. The' wasn't anything wrong at the hay-barn an' you was all alone. I just know 'at you went there to cuss 'cause I made you own up at breakfast that it wasn't no worse for me to fling the oatmeal out the window when it didn't suit me than it was for you to fling the coffee."

The old man just stood an' stared at her so I knew 'at the little witch had rooted out his devisement. "When you are older, Barbara," ol' Cast Steel sez in his coldest tone, "you will understand these things an' be glad of the care I took of you; but now I am compelled to lay down a law. You are never to smoke again until you're of legal age."

"What's legal age?" sez she.

"Twenty-one years," sez Jabez.

"That'll be thirteen years," sez Barbie. "All right; but I'm goin' to roll three cigarettes a day for thirteen years an' the very day I'm twenty-one I'm goin' to smoke 'em all."

"You go to your room an' stay there," sez Jabez, white-hot.

"I will," she answers as cool as an icicle, "an' I'm goin' to figure up how many it will be, so I'll have some sort of fun to look forward to—when I get of legal age."

After she'd gone Jabez set down on a stone an' wiped his forehead. "She ain't a child, Happy. She ain't nothin' like a child," sez Jabez to me. "Here she is only eight year old an' she's got me out beyond my depth already. I don't know what I ought to do with her. She went to the spring round-up this year an' slept in a Navajo right outdoors. She wants to go bear huntin' or anything else 'at's wild an' dis-accordin' to her nature. What on earth am I goin' to do with her?"

"You ought to have children to play with her. She wants to play all right, she tries to play; but the only kind of play she knows is grown-up play. Get some children an' dolls an' pet kittens an' such things for her; that'll give her a chance," sez I.

"I tried it," sez Jabez. "I tried it last summer, but she about killed 'em. The only children I could get was two little Injuns, but she about ruined 'em. The only game she would play was war, an' when they wouldn't stand for her way o' playin' it she got on her pinto—the one you broke for her—an' roped 'em both an' like to dragged the hide off 'em. I don't know what to do."

"You ought to send her to school," sez I. "They'll be white children there an' they won't be slow an' gentle like the little Injuns; they'll be just as full o' devil as what she is, an' she'll get the sharp corners wore off her."

"Hang it I tried that too. I sent her when she was six year old—I'd been lookin' forward to it a good long time too, but it didn't do no good.

"She put in the first day all right, but things went too slow for her after that, an' she brought home her books an' made me pester over 'em with her, an' she went into it like a game, an' now she's gone through about four years' work in two. It's a blame shame, 'cause the school is only ten miles away an' she could go as well as not, but she's so terrible impatient. She reads all kinds o' books already, an' sez she's goin' to read 'em all before she quits. She ain't a bit like a child an' I don't think it's natural. I wish she'd pester me for dolls an' pink dresses an' things like that instead of wantin' all kinds of firearms, an' playin' poker with the boys."

Ol' Cast Steel was all worked up over it, an' I thought a long time before I answered him, then I sez, "Jabez, you're hard enough on the child an' you're strict enough with her, but you ain't strict enough with yourself. When it comes to a show down,—when you actually say yes and now,—why, she gives in; but when you argue with her she's just as sharp as you are, an' the' 's a heap o' things all children has to do 'at I reckon the' ain't no real sense in, so when you try to dig up a reason for 'em you give 'em the whip hand. Just like religion: lots of it is better just stated an' not mussed up tryin' to be explained. When a parson tries to tell me why God created this universe, it don't sound reasonable; but when I go out an' look at the stars an' the mountains an' the big sweep o' the plains an' then try to round up all that astronomer feller said about things, why, I just know 'at nobody but God could 'a' done it—an' I reckon it's that way with a child. She trusts you until you get down to her level an' then she sees that the' ain't much difference between you, an' she naturally expects you to play the same game by the same rules. You send her to school an' tell her it's for her own good, an' let her'n the teacher fight it out. That's a teacher's business an' they know how."

Well, they was a heap o' sense in what I said, an' I'd been thinkin' over it a long spell; so when school opened up again in the fall Barbie had her orders an' the' wasn't much in the way of trouble.

I didn't have any regular duties at the Diamond Dot—the worst trouble about the Diamond Dot was that nobody had any regular duties. Jabez was notionable to a degree, an' we all just floated along, doin' what we did do right, but not havin' much of a plan for it. I could have handled the place with ten less men an' got through on a tighter schedule, but it was a fine place to work at an' we all got what was comin' to us. Through the winter I used to ride over with Barbie when the days was anyways rough, an' it took her a long time to find out that Starlight really could beat her pinto. I reckon that child was the best rider 'at ever backed a pony. As you might say she grew up with a pony between her knees, an' the way she could play a bit in a hoss's mouth was the finest sight I ever see. I ain't much of a fool when it comes to pickin' out a ridin' critter, an' the pinto was able—most uncommon able.

One Saturday morning she told me that she was tired o' seein' Starlight beat Hawkins on ten-mile dashes, an' she was goin' to have a real race that day. She allus called the pinto "Hawkins" after I got back; she had said it wouldn't be polite to call us both "Happy" an' as long as I had owned both names the longest, she was willin' to give me my choice—an' then she said 'at that wouldn't be quite fair to the pinto—she was mighty rigid on bein' square—so she said 'at we'd have to draw for 'em. She wrote "Happy" on one piece of paper an' "Hawkins" on the other, put her hat in the pony's mouth,—she had taught him a lot o' tricks,—an' I had to turn my back while she dropped in the names. My luck was good, so I drawed "Happy," an' the pony was called "Hawkins." I was feared I might have to go back to John, an' John's a sort of a heavy baggage for a careless cuss to be luggin' around.

It was spring, an' the range was smooth an' tough. All through the snow Starlight's long legs had given him a big advantage, but now her weight made it a purty good bet either way. "Let 'em go grassin', Barbie," sez I. "This fine young grass—"

"I knew you were afraid to make a fair test of it," she sez scornful.

"I ain't neither afraid," I sez, "but what's the use of a race just to satisfy our curiosity?"

"What's the use of curiosity except to satisfy it?" sez Barbie, an' she had me sure enough. A feller was a fool to argue with that little witch. She allus had a come-back, an' the only way to get ahead of her was either to boss or beg. I hadn't no authority to boss, an' I was too blame young to beg, so she just about had me roped an' tied. "How far are you goin' to race?" sez I.

"A hundred miles," sez she.

"Pshaw," sez I, "the country's wider'n that. Why don't you give'em a decent work out."

"That'll be enough for this time," sez she, "an' if you hustle you can have'em ready by five o'clock."

"Does the boss know?" sez I.

"He will sometime," sez she. "Now hustle."

It was a glorious day, an' I own up I was amused at the prospect. Both hosses was hard as flint an' nervy. If I'd 'a' stayed at the ranch I'd have collected up brandin' irons an' other truck for the round-up, an' a hundred miles through spring sweetness was a heap sight more temptin' to me; so I give in an' soon we was under way. "Where is the course laid out, Barbie?" I sez. "You know I won't see much of you back there in the ruck an' I want to know the path."

"All you need to do is to foller Hawkins's trail," sez she, "but in case you can't find it just circle Mount Savage an' that'll be the distance, so the boys say."

We started out at a comfortable gait, an' I watched her pretty close. Once I tried her out by sendin' Starlight along for a mile, but she just kept the pinto pluggin' away, an' I sensed I was up against some head ridin'. Oh, it was gratifyin' to watch the little rascal ridin' with her brain, like I'd taught her. She didn't throw the reins down on her pony's neck, an' she didn't pull in on the bit; she just played it in his mouth to keep remindin' him that this was his busy day, an' that he'd better tend to his knittin'. Old Starlight knew every move I made, an' he was resigned to a good long pump of it.

I nonsensed a while, tryin' to get her to laugh an' cut up, but not her. "Now don't talk unless you have somethin' to say, Happy," sez she. "I don't want Hawkins to imagine 'at we're out ridin' for an appetite. I want him to believe 'at we're on mighty important business."

"Oh, he'll sure enough think it," sez I, "when we swing around Mount Savage an' he gets to see home through Starlight's dust."

"When it comes to that, I'll bet he won't be complainin' o' the dullness of the business he's been on. Now just practice thinkin' a while."

We watered about noon at a little snow stream on the opposite side of old Savage; but we et our vittles on hoss back an' we didn't waste any time on the waterin'. I figured we'd scaled up about fifty miles, an' the pinto was still tonguin' his bit an' waitin' for somethin' interestin' to turn up. Starlight was gettin' some disgusted with the monotony.

We rode on for another hour an' then Barbie began to ride a little. The pinto let out a couple of links as cheerful as a rainbow, an' I rode at his cinch. I knew I could beat her in the brush, an' she was easin' the pinto too much to make it a question of grit unless she began to herd him mighty shortly. Well she did begin ridin' purty soon, an' brother Hawkins responded like an echo. He was a hog for distance, was that pinto. He was short on top with plenty of depth to him, and his belly cut up quick, showin' he had lots o' room for his heart an' his lungs an' his forage. Starlight's nostrils worked a shade more than his did, but we were gettin' purty close to the pinto's speed, an' Starlight had a load of it left, and he'd pay out the last ounce of it when I said the word. I knew I could beat her this time, but I was feared she might call for a repeat the next day—an' I intended to remind Jabez it was the Sabbath.

Starlight was pretty wet with sweat, while the pinto was bone dry when we struck Trouble Creek which was boilin' full. In we went, an' the water hissed and sucked around our waists; but we crossed at about the same time, an' then it was only ten miles to the ranch house an' Barbie shook her quirt. Away shot the pinto, but Starlight had his fussy streak warm by this time, an' I let him edge ahead as fast as he wanted to. He knew the distance now, an' he knew I wanted to cover it in the least possible time, an' he knew just how much the' was left in him, so I drew a tight rein, eased it off again, an' we dropped a gap between us an' the shorter legs of Barbie's mount. We only gained an inch at a time an' I wasn't sure I'd be the one to do the braggin' even yet, when all of a sudden we swept around a point of rock an' there was Melisse hot-footin' it to the ranch house. She heard us the minute we saw her, an' when we drew up to her she gasped: "Pluto has about killed ol' Cast Steel, an' Spider Kelley has gone for the doctor."

Barbie caught the words, but she never made a reply or asked a single question; she just laid the quirt without a sting over Hawkins's foreshoulder an' raced on. I stopped long enough to tell Melisse that I would send the buckboard after her, an' then I took after Barbie. It looked like a race, sure enough. I was worried. Pluto was a high grade stallion Jabez had got after I lined up Starlight alongside the range ponies, an' he had the meanest temper I ever see put into a hoss. I had been tendin' him 'cause I'd got wise to the ways o' these thin-skinned fellers down at the Lion Head, but I never quite trusted him, an' I feared 'at maybe Barbie's goin' off without notice had riled the old man an' he had tried to take it out on Pluto.

We only had five miles to go, an' we sure went it. I beat her to the ranch house, but Starlight hadn't got his breath back when she rode in, an' the pinto only took one long breath an' shook his head. I turned the hosses over to one o' the boys 'at were hangin' around the door lookin' troubled, an' hustled inside. Jabez lay on the lounge with a face like soured vinegar. He had a bandage round his head an' another around his arm, while his leg was propped up on pillows.

"What's the damage, Jabez?" I asked.

"Where's Barbie?" he demanded, not payin' any heed to my question. She had flung herself from the pinto an' came running into the room. "Oh, Daddy," she said, throwin' her arms around him.

"Where have you been?" sez he.

"I been racin' with Happy," she said. "Are you bad hurt, Daddy?"

"Who beat?" sez he.

"Happy did, about a hundred yards."

"It wasn't more'n fifty," sez I.

"How far did you race?" asked Jabez, grittin' his teeth.

"A hundred miles," sez Barbie.

"A hundred miles?" sez Jabez, grinnin' painful. "A hundred miles, an' the black hoss beat your pinto carryin' a hundred'n fifty pounds more weight. Hendricks—tell those blame fools not to kill Pluto. Happy, you go an' see that they don't even hurt him. It was my fault. Now, Barbie, tell me about the race."

I went out to the big open stall where Pluto was kept all by himself, but first I sent one o' the boys with the buckboard after Melisse. I found Pluto in the middle of his stall with three ropes around his neck an' the boys snubbin' him to posts. They wasn't minded to let him go, even on Hendricks's say-so, but I went into the stall an' told 'em to ease off. "He's whipped one man in a fair fight," sez I, "an' if another man don't whip him in a fair fight the' won't be any handlin' of him from this on. Ease off these ropes."

Well, I whipped that hoss in a fair fight, an' then I went in to see how Jabez was gettin' along. I said a fair fight an' I meant a fair fight. Yes, the' is a way to fight a hoss fair—that is, as fair as any fight is. If you look at it one way, the' can't never be a fair fight, 'cause one is bound to have an advantage—skill, luck, experience, or courage; but what I mean is, that I fought that hoss with nothing but just my own hands an' I whipped him.

Why the way I did it was this: as soon as they slacked off the ropes I slipped up beside him an' jerked 'em over his head, an' we two stood alone in the big box stall with size in his favor an' brains in mine. I had some consid'able size in those days, an' he was almost too brainy for a hoss; but I own up 'at I 'd had the most experience.

First I stood off an' insulted him: I cussed him an' I called him all manner of names an' then I laughed at him—you think a hoss, a hoss like Pluto, can't be insulted? Why, pshaw! they're as high feelin' as children. He was out o' humor to begin with, an' purty soon his ears went back an' his eyes got red. I've heard tell about an animal not bein' able to look a man in the eyes, an' I never saw the wild animal 'at could; but I've seen three man-eatin' stallions in my time 'at could look clear to your liver, an' a bulldog can do it too.

First off he tried to bite, but I got him a shoulder-blow right on the nose. It made him wink, an' he reared an' struck at me with his front hoofs. I ducked to the left an' the minute his hoofs came down I slipped thumb an' forefinger into his nostrils, an' tried to jerk his head around to the right; but I'd thrown him once before that way an' he was too quick. He threw up his head before I could grip his mane with my left, an' a reachin' kick with his right hind foot tore my vest away.

He floundered me around consid'able for a spell, but at last in tryin' to jam me against the wall I got hold of his mane. I braced my feet against the wall an' liftin' myself, I got his ear in my mouth an' I bit it. It was a trick I'd learned from ol' Monody, an' I sure bit hard an' close to the head. For mighty nigh a minute he stood it fightin', an' then he give a groan. He hadn't had a sniff of air through his nose since I'd grabbed it, an' he wasn't no bulldog, he was a satin-skinned thoroughbred, an' he couldn't stand the anguish in his ear.

He groaned an' then he shivered an' then of a sudden I let go his ear, jerked his head around to the right, pulled up his left front foot with my left hand an' heaved with my shoulder. Down he went an' as he fell I leaped across him, an' put my weight on his head. Then I took my fingers out of his nose an' patted him.

I hate to whip a hoss, I hate to break the pride of any livin' creature; but when I start in to do it I don't just pester him. I wait until I have good reason an' then I convince him—whether he's able to live through it or not. I stroked old Pluto's ears an' nose, all the time murmurin' to him, an' durin' the murmurin' I told the boys to file out. I never shame nobody in front of anybody if the' 's any other way round.

Well, Pluto was drippin' with sweat an' havin' his bit ear rubbed was mighty soothin' to him. We all like a lot of babyin' after we've been hurt, whether we own up to it or not, an' Pluto wasn't any exception to the rule. After a while I explained everything to him an' told him that if he'd just act like a human bein', he'd be treated like a king; but if he wanted to carry on like some savage varmint we'd have to remove his hide an inch at a time; an' when I finally let him up he was mortal shamed of himself.

It was plumb dark by the time I let him up, an' I watered him an' fed him an' rubbed him until he began to eat, an' that was the last bother any man ever had with Pluto; but I was the only one he'd mind without bein' chainbitted. He counted me his best friend, an' after a while he got so he'd play with me—nip my ear with his lips an' such things, which I count as bein' a game way of takin' punishment. Still, it ain't just gettin' beat, it's havin' it rubbed in that makes a feller bitter.

I walked around to where Starlight an' Hawkins was enjoyin' their evenin' meal, an' I was mortal proud of the condition they was in. I reckon the' wasn't another pair in the territory 'at could 'a' covered their ante that day, an' it was a feather in Uncle Happy's cap all right.

But all the time I was thinkin' o' these things I was dreadin' havin' it out with Jabez. He was contrairy enough at the best; but all bunged up, I could see my self-control gettin' strained twice a minute. I knew enough about us both to know 'at whenever it came to a show down, it meant a breakin' of home ties, an' I hated to cut loose from Barbie. After a while, I washed up, fed up, an' went in to have it over with.