The Ballad Of Zachery Carson Ch 06

Please read the previous chapters before continuing.

I welcome and appreciate any constructive comments, critiques, and/or emails you might care to send my way.

********************

Chapter Six

"You boys are driving Astor Manor cattle and I don't think you bought them," he yelled. "Throw down your guns, then tell the other two to do likewise and we won't have any trouble. If you don't you'll die in your saddle."

The two men exchanged glances. "I'll see you in Hell first," the older one said and drew his pistol.

Zach brought his rifle to his shoulder and shot twice in quick succession. He heard Paco's big Sharps buffalo rifle firing behind him and turned. One of the two swing riders was down and the other was whipping his horse to get more speed as he rode away from the deadly fire.

Zach looked down at the two men he'd shot as Paco checked on his man. Zach motioned to Paco and they gathered the men's horses. Most working cowboys carried tools to work on horseshoes in their saddle bags. Zach and Paco removed the rustler's horse's shoes, stripped off the saddles and other tack and let the horses go. Now they would have no trouble fending for themselves. The next hour was spent piling rocks over the rustler's bodies.

"I'll send a man into Prescott to tell the Sheriff where the bodies are," Zach said to Paco." He mounted Gris. "We got cattle to roundup. Let's get to it."

The cattle hadn't continued to move up through the pass when the push from the drag stopped. They had spread out, grazing on the sweet grass growing in the clearing at the base of the hills. Zach and Paco bunched the small herd together and started driving them back to Astor Manor.

"Can't get home today and I'd don't want to drive them at night so we'll stop at Two Springs at dusk and then head on in tomorrow morning," Zach suggested.

"Si Patron."

At first light Zach and Paco put the cattle back on the trail home. Not more than an hour into the drive, three of Astor Manor's hands met them on the trail. There were now five men to drive the cattle back to the ranch. One of the men rode point leading the herd; two rode drag pushing the cattle forward, while Zach and Paco rode swing on either side to keep the herd bunched together. They were able to get the cattle back to the north pasture of the ranch by dusk.

Zach and Paco parted ways at the ranch buildings; Paco went to his family at the cottage and Zach rode up to the barn. He unsaddled Gris, brushed him down and made sure he had food and water. Zach stretched his back muscles as he walked toward the ranch house. Gettin old I guess, he thought. Harder to make two day rides now than a few years ago. As Zach entered the house he could hear Sir Gerald talking and heard Kathleen chuckle at what her father was saying.

"Guess they made it home," Zach said to himself. "Don't feel much like socializing but I oughta say hello at least." He walked into the big room to greet Sir Gerald and Kathleen.

The first thing he noticed was a young man sitting on the sofa next to Kathleen. Zach also saw that she was wearing one of her fancy dresses instead of the ranch clothes she normally had on. Sir Gerald was talking to the young man but Kathleen saw Zach come in.

"Hello Zach," she said and stood to greet him. She walked over to him and took his arm. "Come meet our guest," she suggested.

"Yes indeed Mr. Carson, let me introduce you two as you'll be working together," Sir Gerald added. The young man stood. "Mr. Carson, this is Nigel Willingham. Nigel, this is Zachery Carson."

The two young men shook hands and appraised each other. He's got a good grip and looks right at you, Zach thought. For Nigel's part, he thought Zach was the hardest man he'd ever met. He's all angles and hard muscle. His eyes are intense, but not wild and his manners are more than I'd expect from a cowboy.

"Zach is the hero I told you about," Kathleen said to Nigel. Nigel's eyebrow went up and he looked again at Zach.

"Lady Kathleen has told me about your adventure in the desert Mr. Carson. Capital sir, capital. Good show."

Zach shook his head a little and smiled at Kathleen. "It was more of us saving each other," he protested.

"None the less, it was a heroic episode," Sir Gerald interjected. "Have a seat Mr. Carson, there's business to discuss." He turned and called softly, "Mrs. Kraft might we have some coffee please?"

"I really need to clean up a mite," Zach protested. "I've been on the trail for two days."

"Ah yes, Mrs. Kraft explained about the stolen cattle. Did you find the culprits?"

"Yes sir. Me and Paco tracked them down and brought the cattle back to the ranch."

"And where are these, rustlers, I think you call them?" Nigel asked. The tone was one of interest.

"Three of the rustlers are under a pile of rocks out on the trail," Zach answered. "One of them got away. Paco and me had cattle to drive or we would have gone after him." Turning to Sir Gerald, Zach added, "We'll need to send someone in tomorrow to tell the Sheriff where to find them."

Kathleen could tell that Zach was bothered at having to kill the men. "What happened Zach?" She asked gently.

Zach told them about how he and Paco trailed the men with the cattle and how they'd given the rustlers a chance to surrender. "They sometimes hang cattle thieves in this part of the country," Zach said. "Reckon they decided they had a better chance pulling down on us than they would with the law." His eyes looked across the room but it was far out on the trail he saw. "They were wrong; dead wrong," Zach finished.

"Ahem," Sir Gerald muttered. "Well go make yourself presentable and rejoin us please."

"Mr. Carson, I do hope you will return," Nigel said and offered Zach his hand. "I'm very sorry about your ordeal."

Zach shook the hand, nodded, and went to his room across the breezeway. Mr. Kraft was just leaving the room as Zach walked up.

"Put some towels and water in your room Zach. And the missus washed and ironed your best shirt and pants; they're laid out on the bed."

"Thanks Joseph." Zach closed his door and stripped. After washing the trail dust off, he quickly dressed in what he called his 'Sunday go to meetin" clothes. Joseph appeared at the door as Zach was leaving and gathered up the used towels and the water pitcher and basin. Zach nodded and walked back across the breezeway to the big room of the ranch house.

"Ah, here you are Mr. Carson," Sir Gerald greeted Zach with a smile. "And in your best bib and tucker I see." He motioned Zach to a big chair.

"Perhaps you'd like a whiskey," Nigel said and handed Zach a thick glass about half full of Sir Gerald's liquor. "To wash down the trail dust, I believe you Westerners say."

"Maybe I ought to hear what y'all have to say before I drink this," Zach replied.

"I still find it quite interesting how you Americans are so direct and to the point," Sir Gerald remarked. Turning to Nigel he said, "We British could learn a lesson from them about that. No flowery speech or talking a subject to death; direct and to the point, that's the ticket old man."

Kathleen smiled at her father. After all this time, he's still fascinated by this country and these people, she thought.

"All right Mr. Carson, we'll get right to it," Sir Gerald said. "I'm going back to my estate in Berkshire. My brother has been running it but now he wants to migrate to Australia or New Zealand or some such place; although why any Englishman would want to live there is beyond me. After thinking about it, I realized that I miss England and going home would be a good thing."

"When will you be leaving Sir Gerald?" Zach asked already planning where he would go next.

"I'll be leaving in three months or so, just after the roundup and shipping our stock. Nigel will be my agent in St. Louis for selling our cattle. I believe, as Nigel does, that we can make a better profit by selling the cattle directly to the meat packing plants in St. Louis." Sir Gerald motioned to Nigel and the young man explained.

"I've done an intense investigation on the matter," Nigel said. "Astor Manor has been getting between 17 and 21 dollars per steer at our rail head. Those same animals sell for 29 to 35 dollars at the St. Louis packing plants. Depending on the market, sometimes the price goes to over $38 per head."

Zach thought for a moment. "What does it cost us to ship to St. Louis?" He asked.

Sir Gerald smiled and turned to Nigel. "I told you he would see the intricacies of our plan." Turning back to Zach he answered, "$4 a head if the railroad loads and unloads our cattle; $2.50 if we load them here and unload them in St. Louis."

"So the ranch will make at least an additional $5 to $6 a head at low market price," Zach said. "That's if we load and unload the herd ourselves. If we ship a 100 head, that's at least an extra $500." He thought about the men necessary for the job.

"We'd need four to five men for the St. Louis end of the trip. Pay for their return trip and give them a bonus of $15 for the job and y'all are still ahead over $400."

"Is a bonus necessary for the men?" Nigel asked.

"Never short change your help," Sir Gerald answered before Zach could speak. Looking at his ranch boss he added, "That's something I learned from you Mr. Carson." Zach smiled and nodded. "What do you think of the plan?"

"It's a good plan, but I would suggest we ship twice a year instead of one," Zach answered. "Most cattle drives and shipping are in the fall. Maybe we'll get a better price in late spring."

"Capital Zach," Nigel offered. "I was so locked in on the way the other ranchers did things I never saw the potential."

"It's settled then," Sir Gerald said. "We'll ship twice next year and revisit the plan after the second shipment." He finished his whiskey and said, "In the meantime Zach, I'd like for you to show Nigel the day to day operations of the ranch. He needs to know the why and how our cattle get to him for selling."

Zach nodded, "I can show Mr. Willingham around."

"Please call me Nigel, Mr. Carson. I'd like more than a tour, if you don't mind," Nigel said. "If I'm to know how a real ranch operates, I need to get involved in all aspects of the work."

"No offense Nigel, but the roundup, branding and a cattle drive is a mite rougher and harder than riding to hounds," Zach offered.

"I'm an accomplished rider Mr. Carson; really I am. My riding tack is in my room and I would appreciate your help and guidance in selecting a horse."

Zach smiled. You've got a lot to learn Nigel, he thought. "All right, we'll start first thing tomorrow morning. Meet me at the corral and the name's Zach."

"Now to the most important thing," Sir Gerald said. "I'd like to draw up a contract between us Mr. Carson about your continued employment at Astor Manor."

"I don't need a contract Sir Gerald. I'll stay until you sell the ranch and help the new owners get settled."

"Oh, you misunderstand. I'm not selling Astor Manor; not at all. I'll want you to take over control of the ranch." Sir Gerald chuckled at the look on Zach's face.

"We will put it all in writing but this is what I propose. I will retain 75% ownership of Astor Manor and you will be given the other 25%. In addition any proceeds from the horse breeding business will be yours exclusively. The only stipulation is that you may not sell your part of the ranch. If you decide you must leave you will sell your share back to me. Are we agreed?"

Zach was more than surprised at the offer. Sure that Sir Gerald was going to sell the ranch, Zach had already began making plans to finally head to California.

"Well?" Kathleen asked. "Do you accept Zach?"

After several seconds Zach answered, "Man would be a fool to pass up that offer and my folks didn't raise any fools. Of course, I accept and thank you Sir Gerald."

Waving his hand in a dismissive gesture Sir Gerald replied, "Think nothing of it Mr. Carson. You've made Astor Manor a profitable cattle business and you deserve your reward." In a softer tone, he added, "To say nothing of saving my Kathleen."

That evening after Sir Gerald and Kathleen had turned in, Zach sat in the breezeway with a last cup of coffee. Come a long way since I left Missouri, he thought. Never figured to be a ranch boss and sure didn't figure to own part of a nice place like Astor Manor.

Over the years Zach had written a few letters back home, telling his parents and his brother where he was and what he was doing. If he stayed in one place long enough he got letters back telling about how the farm and family was doing. His reason for leaving home was still valid but Zach did miss Missouri. He stood and emptied his cup.

"Reckon Pa and Ma will be proud when I write and tell them about my ranch," he said softly into the night.

At first light, Zach was at the corral waiting for Nigel. He'd saddle Gris and had chosen Mr. Woodstock for the Englishman. After waiting a half an hour, Zach went back to the house and to Nigel's room. He knocked on the door, waited a little then banged on the door with the flat of his hand.

"Yes?" Nigel's sleepy voice called.

"Nigel, half the morning is gone. If you're going with me, you need to get down to the corral in ten minutes," Zach answered and left the house.

It was closer to twenty minutes than ten when Nigel, carrying his saddle tack, made it to the corral. The sun was peeking over the hills and you could begin to see the shadows of the men and horses.

"You consider this the middle of the morning?" Nigel asked.

Zach smiled. "Usually we're out working with the cattle by now." Noticing the tack Nigel was carrying he grinned and looked down. Zach started to comment about the English saddle without a saddle horn and the way Nigel was dressed but thought he'll learn soon enough and pointed to Mr. Woodstock. Nigel put the blanket on the horse, cinched up his saddle and mounted.

Nigel was wearing a shirt with a button on collar and a black string tie. His classic English riding breeches were beige and he wore a black frock coat cinched in by a wide black belt and black boots with a short heel. On his head he had a bowler hat with a string that tied under his chin.

"This will be a mite different than riding to hounds like you've been doing," Zach said smiling at the way Nigel was dressed. "That pony you're riding will turn quick and fast. He'll chase strays and set you up to rope em." He handed Nigel a coiled lariat. "Best just give him his head and hang on."

"Thank you for the warning but I'm an accomplished rider," Nigel replied.

"We'll see," Zach said with a grin and mounted Gris. Motioning toward the hill above the ranch house he led Nigel toward the herd in the south meadow.

The southern herd was scattered over the country side a bit. The rider's first job was to round up the cattle, bunch them, and brand the yearlings and any others that had been missed in the spring branding. Pointing to four or five cattle on a small rise to the west, Zach and Nigel circled around to come up behind the animals. They began to drive them toward the flat ground where more of the cattle milled around. One of the steers decided that it didn't want to go down onto the flat and took off directly away from the small group.

Mr. Woodstock didn't wait for Nigel to give him orders, but took off after the steer. In two jumps he was at a full gallop and Nigel almost lost his seat when one of his feet came out of the stirrup and did lose the little bowler hat he'd been wearing.

The horse quickly overtook the offending animal and guided him back to the others. As Mr. Woodstock pranced along behind the run away, Nigel was able to get his right boot back into the stirrup. It was everything that Zach could do to keep from laughing out loud.

Back on the flat, the men had put several branding irons in a hot fire. The cattle would be roped and drug over to the fire where another mounted cowboy would throw a loop around the animal's rear feet. The two roping horses would pull in opposite directions until the cow or steer would fall over. Another hand would grab a red hot branding iron and put Astor Manor's mark on the rump of the downed steer's rump.

The animal would be released and when it stood would be driven to join others that had already been marked. The four teams of ropers kept the men at the two fires working hard. The hands would shift from branding to roping now and then.

Zach pointed to a steer and said to Nigel, "You might as well rope that steer and drag him over to the fire." Nigel looked at him with a strange look on his face. "You said you wanted to learn about the ranch and that's part of it," Zach reminded him.

Nigel turned Mr. Woodstock toward the targeted animal and the horse took over from there. He got Nigel in position but he missed twice before he was able to get a line on the steer. Mr. Woodstock had a look that on a human would have shown frustration.

The steer didn't like the feel of the noose as it settled over its neck and took off at a run. Nigel didn't have a chance of holding the running animal with his arms and came off his horse. He landed heavily and moaned. Mr. Woodstock looked down at his rider, turned, and raced after the steer.

Zach rode over and waited for Nigel to get to his feet. The Englishman winched as he stood up and looked down at the rope burns on his hands. He dusted himself off; his face was red with embarrassment. Zach offered a stirrup to Nigel, got him up on Gris, and took him back to the fire. Mr. Woodstock was standing by the horses waiting to get back to work.

"Maybe you should help with the branding for a spell,' Zach suggested. Nigel nodded and went over to the men at the fires.

As late afternoon rolled around, the southern herd had all been branded and were moved to another area to graze. Zach gathered Nigel and they rode back to the ranch house. Nigel slid off Mr. Woodstock and started toward the house.

"You need to tend to your horse Nigel," Zach said. "We don't have grooms and such on the ranch; everyone takes care of their own animals."

Nigel nodded and followed Zach's example as he unsaddled, combed and curried his horse, and fed and watered Gris. Then they walked up to the house. "Now we'll clean ourselves for supper," Zach said and walked to the outdoor pump.

His smiled at Nigel's appearance. The man had lost his hat the first time his horse went after a steer, his breeches were dirty and torn, the frock coat was split up the back and his hands had rope burns. Nigel had also been thrown off his horse several times. He walked as if he were 90 years old.

"Well, how did our guest do today?" Sir Gerald asked at supper.

"I made a right fool of myself, I think," Nigel answered.

"Wouldn't rightly call you a fool Nigel," Zach replied. "You found out why we're equipped the way we are and some of what it takes to work the ranch." Zach took a sip of the whiskey Sir Gerald had poured for them. "But I've got to hand it to you; you never shirked the hard work and tried your best at everything that was thrown at you. No, I wouldn't call you a fool, just uneducated about ranch life."

"I'll do better tomorrow," Nigel promised.

"You're going out again?" Kathleen asked.

"One day doesn't a ranch hand make," Nigel said and grinned. "See you at first light Zach. Now, I think I will retire. Excuse me please." He stood with a groan and went to his bedroom.

Nigel was waiting for Zach at the corral the next morning. He held Mr. Woodstock's reins and the horse wore a western saddle. The Englishman had on whipcord pants and a work shirt, both well worn. Looking closer at his hat, Zach realized it was an old one of his that he kept in the barn. Sir Gris was tied to the rail, saddled and ready to go to work. Zach smiled at Nigel checked his saddle cinch, mounted, and motioned for Nigel to follow him.