Copyright 1990
On a hot July afternoon three girls lolled on some
hay on the shady side of a barn. They had just stabled the pony belonging to
one of them.
“This is a queer place to entertain your friends,”
plump little Merle had said as she sat down. “But I could never brave the sun
from here to the house. I know I should begin to fry.”
Judith and Dove laughed as she said this and sat
down beside her.
“I don’t see how you do it Merle,” Dove said after
she had settled herself with a few wiggles and squirms. “This hot weather ought
to make you thin. Seems to me ‘Roller’ is getting a little sway—backed. I guess
you will have to ride one of the draft horses.
“Dove, if it wasn t so warm, I would challenge you
to go to the granary and get weighed on Dad’s grain scales.” Merle returned
with a smile on her little round face.
“Doesn’t this fresh clover smell nice?” Judith
asked. “It’s so good to smell it after looking at the dry range and turning
wheat fields of this country.
The country of which she spoke was in the dry—farm
section of southeastern Idaho. The country was called dry—farming to
distinguish it from the irrigation farming. The land lay miles from the level
floor of the Snake River Valley and was very uneven and hilly. As these hills
rolled away toward the mountains they became larger and larger, forming the
foothills and after that climbing steeply into the mountains themselves. A few
homesteads had been.taken up but the greater part of the land was range which
the farmers leased from the State as grazing land for their stock.
Of the three girls sitting in the shade two were
sisters, Judith and Merle Calvert. Their parents had lost their money and being
too proud to accept aid from their relatives and friends in Virginia had come
west to make their home. Mrs. Calvert had held to the traditions of her old
home and she had taught Judith and Merle many things their neighbors had never
known about. She had often worried about her daughters but when she confided
her worries to her husband he had answered her saying, “This country has taught
them self— reliance. You can depend on them to take care of theirselves.” Mrs.
Calvert had sighed and acknowledged that the girls knew a great deal more than
she did at their age but they were so reckless; didn’t he recall the time
Judith had broken the colt to ride and he had nearly scalped her on the barn
door? Mr. Calvert remembered quite distinctly the ‘gone’ sensation
that came over him at the time but he reassured his wife now by recalling the
fact that Judith had broken the colt before she quit.
Dove Wilds, the third girl, lived about three miles
from the Calvert homestead. She was really a bit afraid of the Calverts when,
as she expressed it, ‘they froze up and begin to talk like dictionaries.’
As the girls sat there they idly discussed the
latest ‘shindig’ or dance held at Horseshoe Flat and exchange opinions and
comments about the cavaliers of the range.
“Say, girls,” Dove remarked after a few moments of
silence, “Do you remember that big fellow who said he was from Squirrel Creek?”
There was a little start from the sisters and a
hasty glance at each other and then Judith’s lazy voice answering, “Yes, why?”
“Well, he tried to put some swell airs over me and
then tried to feed me taffy. He must of thought I was born yesterday. But, say,
I remembered what you told that dude last summer and I said to him. “You don’t
know the difference between good conversation and camouflage. He was stuck
alright and never had another word to say. That was the right word wasn’t it?”
“Your word was alright, Dove, the word you wanted
was ‘persiflage’.” Judith assured her and then her laughter rang out while
Merle chuckled and added, “your perspicuity is good.”
“Dove,” Judith spoke to her seeing the look of doubt
on her face, “if you promise not to tell, I will tell you something that
happened at the dance. Merle was the hero.
“Oh, sis, don t, Merle cut in, “you know it wasn t anything.”
And as she made this appeal she shifted uncomfortably in the nest she had made
in the hay.
“Please tell,” begged Dove. “I won’t tell a single
soul.” “Nor a double one.” Merle
sighed.
“It concerns that big friend of yours.” Began
Judith. “The other night at the dance in the tag waltz he tagged me and then
waltzed me out of the door before I could think. When I started to protest he
clapped his hand over my mouth and with me under one arm like a bag of grain
walked out to where the horses were tied. He set me down on the hitching rail
and with his hand over my mouth told me he wanted to talk to me and if I would
promise not to call for help he would remove his hand, if not he would carry me
away on his horse. I nodded yes because I knew someone would be looking for me
in a short while. He stood there telling me the same ‘taffy’ he told you. He
was just saying his floweriest piece when Merle cut in with, “Hands up,
partner.” He whirled around to find Merle standing there and looking mighty
business like. I reached down and pulled his gun out of his pocket. Then I
hopped off the rail and walked around by Merle. She told him to get on his
horse and go and forget to come back and as the sheriff says, “greased
lightening was slow compared with him.” We have his gun as a souvenir.
During this recital Dove’s eyes had grown bright
with excitement and with the mention of the gun an “I’ll be darned” escaped
between her parted lips. Turning to Merle she enquired, “How did you know when
to go look for her?”
“Easy enough,” Merle said settling back comfortably
now the tale was told. “Judith nor I never leave the hall without telling the
other about it and so when I missed Judith I went to look for her. I wasted a
lot of valuable time trying to find something that resembled a gun. A piece of
Dad’s new buggy whip looked like a gun barrel and was about the size. Glory,
but Dad was angry and said, “He would like to see the man that broke his whip.”
“I’ll say you girls can take care of yourselves.”
Dove commented and then added, “Wonder what Steve would say if he knew?”
“Oh, he will never know.” Was Judith’s airy
assurance. “No one knows about it but us three and we will never tell.”
The conversation then switched to the various people
who made up the social life of the community and then turned again to topics
more personal and as Dove remarked she wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the ears
of some of the “Knights of the Leather Pants” weren’t red and burning.
“Well, Bud Hix is as crazy as a bedbug.” The
finality of that statement was further emphasized by Merle rolling over on her
back and tipping her hat over her brown eyes.
“I will grant you that, Sis.” Said Judith as she
tickled her sister on the nose with a straw while a reminiscent smile twitched
the corners of her mouth.
“He may be,” Dove spoke up with unusual vigor, “But
he has nothing on that Bill Downing.
“I don’t see why you girls didn’t pick something
good while you were picking.” Judith offered as she settled a little more
comfortably in the hay mound.
Merle opened one eye and gazed appreciatively at the
picture her sister made sitting there.
“It wasn’t picking in your case,” Dove assured her
good naturedly, “Steve never saw anyone else after he looked at you. He just
attached himself.”
Merle nodded a sleepy assent and a drowsy silence
settled over them broken only by the stamp of the ponies in the barn.
Dove yawned and then said disgustedly, “I nearly
went to sleep. Lets go hunt rattle snakes if there is nothing else to do.”
“Fine.” Merle was on her feet and putting on her
broad brimmed Stetson in a second.
“There are plenty of them down the Teton canyon.”
Judith suggested as she brushed the straws from her skirt.
In fifteen minutes they were loping down the trail
that led to the canyon. They raced across the level spaces and made the walls
of the canyon ring with the songs they had learned from the ‘knights’ and which
had caused these same knights hours of mental gymnastics getting the song made
over so it would be ‘fit for a lady to sing.’
After watering their horses and tieing them securely
the girls were ready for their adventure.
“Come on, girls,” Merle said. “Lets get a drink
before climbing that ledge.”
She started down toward the river and then stopped
sharply.
“Here he is,” she called excitedly. “Our first meat,
been down getting a drink.”
“Where, where?” Dove shouted dancing up and down,
“Quick, quick what shall we do? Oh, he is going to get away.”
Merle had picked up a stick three or four feet long
while Judith had found a willow that had been used as a fishing pole.
“Wait, Merle,” she had said quietly, “I shall get
him out here in the open and hold him so he can’t coil and then you can kill
him.” But she had reckoned without Dove who had been dancing up and down and
yelling like a Comanche. Dove seized the pole out of Judith’s hands, ran toward
the snake and slipping the end under the snake she brought it up in the air.
Yelling with every breath she swung round toward Merle and Judith. Merle was
just about the length of the pole away and as Dove swung Judith had shouted,
“Duck, Merle, duck.” And she turned and ran. Merle dropped to the ground just
in time. As the snake was catapulted off the pole and went swishing through the
air to land a few feet behind Judith. Merle jumped to her feet and with a few
blows had killed it. Dove was still standing there with the pole poised and her
mouth wide open.
“Didn’t know it could fly, did you Dove?” Merle called
seeing her standing there.
“Say, we killed it sure enough.” Dove said catching
her breath and coming up to where they stood.
“Scared it to death.” Judith remarked dryly and
turning to her sister said, “thought for a while you were going to have a new
necklace.” Merle smiled back understandingly and then look at the sun said it
was time to go home.
Dove was still regarding the snake with the air of a
satisfied hunter. “I would like to take it home with me,” she said, “I never
killed one before.”
“You might take the rattles,” Merle offered as she
turned away to get the ponies.
“Put the tail over one rock and then with a sharp
edge chopped the rattles off.” Judith suggested anticipating Dove’s question.
“Be careful not to smash the rattles.”
Up the trail they climbed, laughing and chatting.
They stopped for a few minutes where their roads parted.
“Ten rattles and a button.” Dove counted as she slid
them in her pocket.
“Well, so long girls.”
“So long.”
“End”