Dude Ranch (9 page)

“H
EY
, S
TEVIE, ARE
you all right?”

It was Carole. Stevie turned around from Christine’s horse to see her leading Stewball.

“Stewball came running around the hill like he’d gone crazy—and when we didn’t see you … Well, I’m glad to see you’re okay. Did he throw you? Did you get hurt? Shall we get the first-aid kit from Eli?”

“I’m all—”

“Oh,
there
you are, Stevie,” Lisa said, arriving breathlessly on Chocolate. “I’m so relieved that everything’s all right! You can’t imagine what we …” She looked at Stevie’s face and knew immediately that everything was
not
all right.

“What
happened?
” Carole asked, deeply concerned.

Just then, Kate pulled up on her horse. “Hello,
Christine,” she said politely, acknowledging the girl’s presence. Then she, too, asked what had happened.

Stevie had been standing in front of Arrow. Until she stepped aside, none of the girls could see Tomahawk’s lifeless body across the horse’s back.

“Oh, no!” Carole said, looking stricken at the sight. “Is he …?”

Christine nodded. “It was a rattlesnake,” she said. Then she paused to compose herself. “She was on the ground,” she said, pointing to Stevie, “and the snake was about to strike, and …” She had trouble going on.

“What she means is that Tomahawk saved my life,” Stevie said simply. Then she described the terrible events that led to the snake’s attack on the dog.

Christine took over. “And she held my dog,” she told the girls. “She held him through his painful last minutes, and let him know he wasn’t alone.”

“It was the least I could do,” Stevie said, surprised that Christine was apparently touched by her own kindness to Tomahawk. “Now, I’d like to help you bury him. Do you girls want to help, too, or do you have to keep up with the herd?”

“The herd’ll do just fine without us for a while,” Kate assured Stevie. “In fact, I get the impression from Eli sometimes that the roundup actually goes
better
without the dudes along.”

Stevie smiled slightly. That was just like Eli. But she wouldn’t be surprised if it was true. “Yep, he thinks we’re just dumb dudes,” she said.

Christine looked at Stevie thoughtfully for a moment. “I think I’ve been guilty of that, too,” she said. There was an awkward silence.

“I’ll go get the shovel from Eli,” Kate offered after a moment. “I’ll tell him we’ll be with them at the lunch stop. I’ll meet you guys down by the creek.”

Kate turned Spot around to catch up with the herd. The other girls dismounted and walked their horses across the range to the creek.

As they walked, they introduced themselves to Christine, since they’d never even had a chance to tell her their names. Stevie was very aware of the sad task ahead of them, but she couldn’t help feeling that Tomahawk’s death was signaling a birth of friendship between The Saddle Club and Christine Lonetree. Certainly, the girls were coming to understand one another as they never could have done before.

“Say, where did you girls learn to ride?” Christine asked. Stevie and her friends understood that Christine was trying to keep from showing her emotions by changing the subject. They followed her lead.

Lisa explained that they were friends because they all studied riding at Pine Hollow Stables in Willow Creek, Virginia.

“English?” Christine asked.

“Of course,” Carole said. “But you know, horses are horses. And while there are differences in riding styles, there are a lot more similarities.”

“I think I’m learning that it’s the same with people,” Christine said, drawing to a stop at the bank of the creek.

“The main problem seems to be when people start thinking things about other people when they don’t have the facts,” Stevie added.

“You mean like the Western idea that ‘dumb dude’ is really one word?”

“Or the idea that a Native American girl riding in the early dawn must be on some ancient tribal mission.”

“Oh, yeah, like protecting the treasure from the marauding settlers,” Christine said, smiling at last. “To tell you the truth, I really liked that one!” She began laughing and the girls were only too pleased to laugh with her—at themselves.

Kate arrived then with the shovel. Their thoughts returned to their sad mission. They took turns digging a grave in the cool earth. It didn’t take long and as they worked, the girls found consolation in the idea that Tomahawk’s resting place
was
a beautiful one.

When the grave was finished, Christine and Stevie placed the dog in it. Then they looked awkwardly at each other, wondering if they should say a prayer. Stevie
answered the question for them. She spoke to the dog.

“Tomahawk,” she began. “We’re going to leave you here in this beautiful place. If you can hear us, wherever you are now, you’ll know that Christine thanks you for your wonderful life, and I thank you for saving me with your death. If there’s a god of dogs, he’ll take care of you. Amen.”

The girls echoed Stevie’s “Amen,” and then quickly filled in the grave. When they were done, only a soft mound of earth marked Tomahawk’s resting place. But where he lay in death didn’t seem to matter anywhere near as much as what he had done in life.

Solemnly, the girls turned and led their horses away from Tomahawk’s grave.

“Time to catch up with the wranglers,” Kate said. “They’ll be moving along any minute now.” She turned to their new friend. “Christine,” she said, “we’ll be back at The Bar None tomorrow. Would you like to come over to visit?”

Christine smiled. “I’ve got a better idea,” she said. “I’ll answer your questions about my morning ride. I’ll come for you at four-thirty the next morning. Be ready to ride. Bareback.”

With that, Christine turned to Arrow and boosted herself up onto his back. Taking his reins in one hand,
she turned from her new friends and the horse took off at a lope.

The Saddle Club turned to their own horses. It was time to get on with the roundup.

“Git along little dogie!” Lisa began to sing, off-key.

“I think I like the one about ‘Yippie ki yi yay’ better,” Stevie remarked as they began their return to the herd.

“I think I like it better when you can’t hear her over the moos of the cattle,” Carole said.

The girls laughed together.

T
HE GIRLS WERE
very busy for the rest of the roundup. Before they got to the next creek crossing, they had to cover a vast open section of the range. The herd began to spread out and wander. Also, since there had been a number of strays remaining in this section, the herd tended to wander toward the strays, instead of the other way around.

Eli directed all the riders to surround the herd while he and Jeff rounded up strays, bringing them into the main herd. But while they were waiting, the herd seemed to sense the nearness of the creek ahead and there was no containing it. The cattle headed straight for the water and then spread out along the banks of the creek so they could all get drinks.

The girls circled back and forth along the edge of
the herd just as they’d seen Eli and Jeff doing. It was very different riding from anything they’d ever done before. Not only did they have to be careful what they were doing as riders, controlling their horses, but they also had to keep eagle eyes on the herd as it meandered this way and that.

Stevie was breathing hard with fatigue and excitement as she and Stewball trotted after a cow and her calf who were wandering downstream. Stewball seemed to know what to do with very little prompting from Stevie. She let him take charge—and when the cow decided to dodge him, Stewball
really
took charge. He leapt to the left, blocking the cow’s escape. The cow stopped short, and gave Stewball a look. Stevie couldn’t see Stewball’s face, but from the way the cow then sheepishly returned to the herd, she figured it must have been something!

“Good boy,” she said, patting him affectionately on the neck.

Finally, the herd was assembled at the edge of the creek and they began the crossing. The girls were assigned spots in the middle of the creek and on either side of the herd, to see that none of the cattle would stray in the middle of the crossing. The horses stood contentedly in the water. The girls suspected the cool creek felt good on the animals’ hot feet.

Stevie watched while the herd sloshed across the
creek. It had rained the week before so the water level was quite high and the stream was flowing rapidly. Most of the cattle didn’t even seem to notice the water at all, except to take a sip at the bank. But there was one calf who was having trouble. Its mother watched it with apparent concern.

He was almost all a reddish-brown color with a bright pink nose and little eyes that sparkled in the daylight. He was much smaller than most of the other calves in the herd and it seemed that the majority of him was spindly legs with knobby knees—and those spindly legs were having quite a time with the rushing water. At first, he was okay, but when he got a few steps out into the creek, it was clear that he was having trouble holding his balance. He stepped sideways, downstream, his legs being pushed by the water. Stevie realized that if he took one more step forward, the rush of the water was going to be too much for him, and he might drown.

She’d already watched one animal die that day, and she wasn’t going to see it happen again.

Stevie turned to Carole. “Come on. We’ve got a job to do.” The two of them went over to where the little calf was quaking in the water. The creek was about a foot deep there—not deep enough to cause Stevie and Carole harm, but just deep enough to get their boots soaking wet. Stevie consoled herself with the knowledge
that she did, after all, have a clean pair of socks with her.

The girls slid down off their horses and, wrapping the reins around their wrists, they leaned over to pick up the little calf together. It was still struggling against the water. He may have been a little calf, but he was heavy. Using every ounce of their strength, and working in perfect unity, they lifted the calf up to Stewball’s withers.

“Let me get on the other side to make sure he’s not just going to slide off,” Carole said. She dodged under Stewball’s neck, taking hold of the calf’s front hooves. “Push him a bit!” Carole told Stevie.

Stevie hefted the calf, evading the angry kicking of his rear hooves. “I don’t think he likes this much,” she told Carole. “I don’t think I’d like it much either,” she added.

“Beats drowning,” Carole reminded her.

The girls shifted the calf’s weight a couple of times. When they were pretty sure he was balanced, Carole remounted Berry and held Stewball’s reins for Stevie, keeping the horse steady under his new and heavy burden. Stevie rose in the stirrups carefully, sitting right behind the straddled calf. Carole handed her Stewball’s reins. “Good luck!” she said.

Stevie had the feeling she was going to need it. She adjusted the calf against her thighs so he wouldn’t slide
off, and proceeded across the creek. The calf protested his rather uncomfortable position with grunts and bleats. Stevie tried to pat him, but that just made him kick and
that
could lead to disaster. She started to sing to him. “Git along, little dogie, git along!” He calmed down. Stevie figured that meant he liked her singing; or maybe it just sounded like the cows’ moos! Whatever the reason, it worked. The calf lay quietly, and its mother followed Stewball obediently.

When she and Carole reached the far side of the creek, Eli spotted them, and grinned broadly at Stevie.

“I’ll make a wrangler of you yet,” he said. “Never did that on one of your sissy English trail rides, did you?”

Stevie knew it was a compliment, so she smiled back at him. “I’m learning,” she said. “But how do I get this guy down from here?”

Eli rode over to her. He dismounted and helped Stevie remove the calf from Stewball’s withers. Stewball stood absolutely still even when the calf’s sharp hooves scraped across his withers. Stevie was admiring the horse more and more with every passing minute.

“Here you go, boy,” Eli said, slapping the rump of the startled calf. “Time to go to Mama!”

The cow approached her newborn, sniffed him a few times, glanced at Stewball and Stevie, then nudged the calf ahead. In a few seconds, the pair had merged with the herd and it was soon impossible for Stevie to
tell just which calf it was that she had saved from drowning.

T
HAT NIGHT
, S
TEVIE
lay in her bedroll, staring up at the million stars that were sprinkled across the sky like so many grains of spilled sugar on black velvet. She thought with sadness about Tomahawk’s death, and then she remembered Eli’s dog, Mel, and her puppies. Stevie wondered whether one of Mel’s puppies could ever make up for Tomahawk, but she knew that an animal like that
couldn’t
be replaced. She hoped she’d be able to think of some way to thank Christine, but she knew it wasn’t by trying to fill Tomahawk’s place.

She thought about the other things that had happened during the day. She couldn’t remember a more eventful day in her whole life, or a day in which she’d had more new experiences. It had been an odd mix of fear, sadness, friendship, happiness, love. Eli was right that there was a lot to learn. But despite her hectic, even traumatic, day, Stevie fell into a deep, dreamless sleep almost immediately.