to Tame a Land (1955) by Louis L'amour Page A

head?"
    "All right." She pushed the tally sheet across the table.
    It was for 637 head. "How will you get them to Sa n Antone?"
    "Hire riders."
    "There's nobody. Those were the Tetlow boys. Nobod y wants trouble with them."
    "Rona, we might get Johnny," the older woman suggested, "and we can both ride."
    "All right, Mom." Rona turned to me. "I've been riding since I was six. We can both help."
    So it was like that, and I took the herd into San Anton e with two women and a boy of fourteen helping me. Bu t I had an old mossy-horn steer leading and he liked t o travel. He was worth a half-dozen riders.
    Bennett paid Rona himself, glancing at me from time t o time. When he had paid her off, the two of them turned t o go.
    Rona held out her hand to me. "Thanks," she said.
    "They were all we had."
    One of Bennett's hands came in. "Tyler," he said, "yo u want those cows-"
    Something stopped him. I guess it was the way everybody looked. Everybody but me, that is. Bennett's fac e went kind of white, and both the women turned bac k again to look at me. We stood there like that, and I wa s wondering what was wrong.
    And then Rona said, "Your name is Tyler?"
    "Yes, ma'am," I said.
    "Not Ryan Tyler?"
    "Yes, ma'am."
    She looked at me again, and then she said quietly , "Thanks. Thanks, Mr. Tyler." And then both wome n walked out.
    Bennett took his cigar from his teeth and swore softly , bitterly. Then he put the cigar back in his mouth an d he looked at me. "You know who they were?"
    "Who?"
    "That was Rice Wheeler's widow . . . and his mother."

    Chapter 9
    WE, POINTED THEM north across the dry prairie grass , three thousand head of them, big longhorns led by m y tough old brindle steer. We pointed them north and too k the trail, and it was a good feeling to be heading nort h and to know that I owned part of the drive; that at las t I had a stake in something.
    After the first week the cattle settled down to the pattern of the drive. Every morning at daybreak that ol d mossy-horn was on his feet and ready, and the first tim e a cow hand started out from the chuck wagon he turne d his head north and started the herd.
    It was a hard, tough life, and it took hard men to liv e it. From daylight to dark in the saddle, eating dust, fighting ornery cow stock, driving through occasional rainstorms and fording rivers that ran bank-full with tumblin g water. But we kept them going.
    Not too fast, for the grass was rich and we wanted the m to take on weight. Sometimes for days at a time they jus t grazed north, moving the way the buffalo moved, takin g a mouthful of grass here, another there, but moving.
    Two hundred and fifty head of that stock were mine , wearing no special brand. Depending on prices, I coul d hit the other end of the trail with between five and seve n thousand dollars, and that was a lot of money. And it wa s real money, not gambling money.
    New grass was turning the prairies gray-green, and ther e were bluebonnets massed for miles along the way the cattle walked, with here and there streaks of yellow mustard.
    The grazing was good, and the stock was taking on weight.
    If we got through without too much trouble, we woul d both make money.
    Nothing was ever said about Rice Wheeler. Sometime s I wondered what they thought when they heard my nam e called and knew who I was. Bennett ventured the onl y comment, about two days out.
    I'd cut out to head off a young steer who was gettin g ornery and trying to break from the herd. Bennett helpe d me turn him back, then turned in alongside me.
    "Don't think about Wheeler," he said abruptly. "H e was no good. Best thing ever happened to Rona, when h e took off and never come back."
    "Leave of his own accord?"
    "No. Folks caught him with some fresh-worked brand s in his herd. He killed a man and left ahead of the posse."
    It was a good crew we had. The oldest of the lot, no t speaking of the boss or the cook, was twenty-six. Two o f the hands had just turned sixteen. And we had fourtee n cow