it was, marked a change in the demeanor of Jett and his men. Catlee, however, took no part in it. He was connected with Jett's outfit, but did not belong there.
the Thundering Herd (1984)
Mrs. Jett then appeared among them, and her advent, probably because of Jett's remark, occasioned ill-suppressed mirth.
"I heard what you said, Rand Jett," she retorted, glaring at him.
"You can't make me welcome to any man, much less a hide thief like Hank Follonsbee."
"Shut your face," returned Jett, in an entirely different tone.
"You know your job. Rustle to it."
That ended the approach to humor. When Follonsbee fetched the water they all washed and splashed with great gusto. This pleasant task finished, they showed plainly what little leisure was now possible to them, for they got their kits and began reloading shells and sharpening knives.
"Catlee, you clean the guns," ordered Jett.
While thus busily engaged they talked of the day's hunt--of the half hour of shooting that was fun and the eight hours of skinning that was labor--of the hide-stretching still to do before sleep could be thought of. Milly listened with keen ears in the hope they might drop some word of the Hudnall outfit, but she spent her attention in vain.
Presently Mrs. Jett called, "Come to supper."
"Or you'll throw it out, huh?" queried Jett, rising with alacrity.
They ate hurriedly and prodigiously, in silence, and each man reached for what he wanted without asking. Jett was the first to finish.
"Fill up, you hawgs," he said to his comrades; "we've work to do.--
Jane, you an' Milly clean up--then go to bed. We'll be just outside the grove, stretchin' hides."
Milly lay awake a long while that night, yet did not hear the men return. Next day they had breakfast before sunrise and were off with a rush. Milly spent quiet hours on the shady bank, where the sweetness and music were undisturbed. Another day passed in which she saw nothing of the men except at the morning and evening meal hours. Jett and his helpers were settling into the strenuous routine of hide-hunting.
On the fourth day they broke camp and traveled twenty miles down the same side of the river, to halt in the only clump of trees Milly had noted for hours. Next morning Jett's men were again hunting buffalo. That night they did not return until long after dark. Milly had gone to bed, but she heard their gruff, weary voices.
The following day was again one of breaking camp and traveling south. Milly observed that the country changed, while yet it seemed the same; and she concluded that it was the vastness and wildness which grew. Next morning she heard shooting up until noon. She was so grateful to be left alone that the hours seemed to fly. There was always a place where she could hide near camp, and Jett seldom forgot to mention this. As they journeyed farther south his vigilance as well as his excitement increased day by day.
From the camp-fire talk Milly gathered that both the number of buffalo and of hunters were augmenting. Yet Jett appeared to have established the rule of traveling one day and hunting the next. As he progressed the work grew more arduous. There was no road over this endless plain, and the level stretches were cut up, sometimes necessitating the unloading and reloading of the wagons. May warmed to June. The plain was now one wide rolling expanse of green, waving gently to every breeze; the stream courses were marked by a line of deeper green, trees now in full foliage. Herds of buffalo began to show to the east of this stream Jett was following. His hunting, however, he did on the west side, where Milly understood the buffalo ranged in larger numbers.
At length Jett traveled two days southward and then crossed the stream to its west bank. Following it down on that side, he was halted by a large river.
"Ha, boys, here's the Red, an' it's our stampin' ground this summer," he rolled out, sonorously.
For a camp he chose a spot hard to reach, as well as hard to espy from
the Thundering Herd (1984)
Mrs. Jett then appeared among them, and her advent, probably because of Jett's remark, occasioned ill-suppressed mirth.
"I heard what you said, Rand Jett," she retorted, glaring at him.
"You can't make me welcome to any man, much less a hide thief like Hank Follonsbee."
"Shut your face," returned Jett, in an entirely different tone.
"You know your job. Rustle to it."
That ended the approach to humor. When Follonsbee fetched the water they all washed and splashed with great gusto. This pleasant task finished, they showed plainly what little leisure was now possible to them, for they got their kits and began reloading shells and sharpening knives.
"Catlee, you clean the guns," ordered Jett.
While thus busily engaged they talked of the day's hunt--of the half hour of shooting that was fun and the eight hours of skinning that was labor--of the hide-stretching still to do before sleep could be thought of. Milly listened with keen ears in the hope they might drop some word of the Hudnall outfit, but she spent her attention in vain.
Presently Mrs. Jett called, "Come to supper."
"Or you'll throw it out, huh?" queried Jett, rising with alacrity.
They ate hurriedly and prodigiously, in silence, and each man reached for what he wanted without asking. Jett was the first to finish.
"Fill up, you hawgs," he said to his comrades; "we've work to do.--
Jane, you an' Milly clean up--then go to bed. We'll be just outside the grove, stretchin' hides."
Milly lay awake a long while that night, yet did not hear the men return. Next day they had breakfast before sunrise and were off with a rush. Milly spent quiet hours on the shady bank, where the sweetness and music were undisturbed. Another day passed in which she saw nothing of the men except at the morning and evening meal hours. Jett and his helpers were settling into the strenuous routine of hide-hunting.
On the fourth day they broke camp and traveled twenty miles down the same side of the river, to halt in the only clump of trees Milly had noted for hours. Next morning Jett's men were again hunting buffalo. That night they did not return until long after dark. Milly had gone to bed, but she heard their gruff, weary voices.
The following day was again one of breaking camp and traveling south. Milly observed that the country changed, while yet it seemed the same; and she concluded that it was the vastness and wildness which grew. Next morning she heard shooting up until noon. She was so grateful to be left alone that the hours seemed to fly. There was always a place where she could hide near camp, and Jett seldom forgot to mention this. As they journeyed farther south his vigilance as well as his excitement increased day by day.
From the camp-fire talk Milly gathered that both the number of buffalo and of hunters were augmenting. Yet Jett appeared to have established the rule of traveling one day and hunting the next. As he progressed the work grew more arduous. There was no road over this endless plain, and the level stretches were cut up, sometimes necessitating the unloading and reloading of the wagons. May warmed to June. The plain was now one wide rolling expanse of green, waving gently to every breeze; the stream courses were marked by a line of deeper green, trees now in full foliage. Herds of buffalo began to show to the east of this stream Jett was following. His hunting, however, he did on the west side, where Milly understood the buffalo ranged in larger numbers.
At length Jett traveled two days southward and then crossed the stream to its west bank. Following it down on that side, he was halted by a large river.
"Ha, boys, here's the Red, an' it's our stampin' ground this summer," he rolled out, sonorously.
For a camp he chose a spot hard to reach, as well as hard to espy from
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