A Christmas on the Arkansas [pp. 26-40]

A4 Christmas on the A rkansaw.
A CHRISTMAS ON THE ARKANSAW.
I.
A DOZEN cowboys belonging to one of
the Arkansaw River ranges lay around
the blazing campfire basking in its
warmth; for though Southern Colorado
often keeps up its boast of Italian skies
and semi-tropical sunshine far into October, the nights of December out on the
plains are cold enough to satisfy a Canadian. Some of the men were smoking
and playing cards, some idly chewing
the cud as they gazed into the depths of
the glowing coals with a look as placid
and contemplative as that of the cows
they watched by day. The firelight,
shining warm and red upon them, seemed
to take pleasure in emphasizing the
harshness of their faces.
Juan Gomez, short and swarthy, had
possessed no beauty even before the
bridge of his nose was broken in a Mexican bullfight. The ruddy glare showed
a hard mouth, with evil lines about it,
and two small, cruel, snakelike eyes.
The deep scar that stretched from temple to chin on the face of one Jack from
Montana was plainly revealed: nobody
had ever asked any questions about that
scar, nobody was likely to do such a
thing, although a stranger looking at it
for the first time could not help wondering at the vigor and ferocity of the blow
that had left so fearful a mark. The
stiff red locks of Horace Greeley were
kindled into a glow that was wholly
unnecessary, and his features shone
with startling brilliancy. Horace was
not even a distant connection of the
great journalist; his surname was unknown. When he drifted into the cattle country he stated that he had come
from the thriving and upright town
of Greeley, and the wit of the camp,
who deemed himself a fellow of infi
nite jest and most excellent fancy, had
str aightway christened him, findingfresh
mirth in the name every time he saw its
bearer lying drunk under some wagon,
for the cornerstones of Greeley, be it
known, were laid in cold water; and
those who delight to look upon the redness of wine, those who contemplate any
spirituous liquor when it worketh itself
aright, spread not their tents in Greeley.
Dave Milton's sandy hair and honest
blue eyes were in the shade, for his head
rested on his arm, but one could catch
a glimpse of a strong, homely face, on
which was a mingled expression of kindly good nature and hopeless sadness.
There lay Long Rupe absorbing
warmth into his great extent of limb,
chilled by a hard day's ride from Pueblo,
and close beside him, perhaps as much
for protection as in friendship, curled the
two infants of the outfit, Dandy Jim and
Pius AEneas, boys of seventeen and eighteen who had run away from home, and
come west to grow up with the country.
They were the sons of a wealthy New
England manufacturer. One day, when
the restraints of school life had been
more irksome than usual to their proud
souls, they threw off the yoke of the
oppressor, and took the next through
train to Denver. Arrived there, James,
the younger and more enterprising, had
bought a horse whose cabalistic brandings had pleased him mightily. "B X B"
was on the left shoulder, "ee" on the right
side, "JR "onthejaw, " Z " onahip, andthe
boy noted with glee there was space for
further decoration. Then seeking out a
far-famed saddlery warehouse, the youth
had lavished much of his father's substance on a superb saddle and bridle
quaintly wrought, the hand-made bits
and spurs whereof were inlaid with silver, a rawhide riata and quirt, magnifi
26
[Jan.