"The big augers of the outfit lived in Wichita, Kansas.Their foreman, Bibleback Hunt, and myself were returning from hunting this missing bunch of yearlings when night overtook us, fully twenty-five miles from camp.Then this Bull Foot stage came to mind, and we turned our horses and rode to it.It was nearly dark when we reached it, and Bibleback said for me to go in and make the talk.I'll never forget that nice little woman who met me at the door of that sod shack.I told her our situation, and she seemed awfully gracious in granting us food and shelter for the night.She told us we could either picket our horses or put them in the corral and feed them hay and grain from the stage-company's supply.Now, old Bibleback was what you might call shy of women, and steered clear of the house until she sent her little boy out and asked us to come in.Well, we sat around in the room, owly-like, and to save my soul from the wrath to come, I couldn't think of a word that was proper to say to the little woman, busy getting supper.Bibleback was worse off than Iwas; he couldn't do anything but look at the pictures on the wall.What was worrying me was, had she a husband? Or what was she doing away out there in that lonesome country? Then a man old enough to be her grandfather put in an appearance.He was friendly and quite talkative, and I built right up to him.And then we had a supper that I distinctly remember yet.Well, Ishould say I do--it takes a woman to get a good supper, and cheer it with her presence, sitting at the head of the table and pouring the coffee.
This old man was a retired stage-driver, and was doing the wrangling act for the stage-horses.After supper I went out to the corral and wormed the information out of him that the woman was a widow; that her husband had died before she came there, and that she was from Michigan.Amongst other things that I learned from the old man was that she had only been there a few months, and was a poor but deserving woman.I told Bibleback all this after we had gone to bed, and we found that our finances amounted to only four dollars, which she was more than welcome to.So the next morning after breakfast, when I asked her what I owed her for our trouble, she replied so graciously: 'Why, gentlemen, Icouldn't think of taking advantage of your necessity to charge you for a favor that I'm only too happy to grant.' 'Oh,' said I, 'take this, anyhow,' laying the silver on the corner of the table and starting for the door, when she stopped me.'One moment, sir;I can't think of accepting this.Be kind enough to grant my request,' and returned the money.We mumbled out some thanks, bade her good-day, and started for the corral, feeling like two sheep thieves.While we were saddling up -- will you believe it?--her little boy came out to the corral and gave each one of us as fine a cigar as ever I buttoned my lip over.Well, fellows, we had had it put all over us by this little Michigan woman, till we couldn't look each other in the face.We were accustomed to hardship and neglect, but here was genuine kindness enough to kill a cat.
"Until we got within five miles of our camp that morning, old Bibleback wouldn't speak to me as we rode along.Then he turned halfway in his saddle and said: 'What kind of folks are those?'
'I don't know,' I replied, 'what kind of people they are, but Iknow they are good ones.' 'Well, I'll get even with that little woman if it takes every son in my war-bags,' said Hunt.
"When within a mile of camp, Bibleback turned again in his saddle and asked, 'When is Christmas?' 'In about five weeks,' Ianswered.'do you know where that big Wyoming stray ranges?' he next asked.I trailed onto his game in a second.'Of course Ido.' 'Well,' says he, 'let's kill him for Christmas and give that little widow every ounce of the meat.It'll be a good one on her, won't it? We'll fool her a plenty.Say nothing to the others,' he added; and giving our horses the rein we rode into camp on a gallop.
"Three days before Christmas we drove up this Wyoming stray and beefed him.We hung the beef up overnight to harden in the frost, and the next morning bright and early, we started for the stagestand with a good pair of ponies to a light wagon.We reached the widow's place about eleven o'clock, and against her protests that she had no use for so much, we hung up eight hundred pounds of as fine beef as you ever set your peepers on.
We wished her a merry Christmas, jumped into the wagon, clucked to the ponies, and merely hit the high places getting away.When we got well out of sight of the house--well, I've seen mule colts play and kid goats cut up their antics; I've seen children that was frolicsome; but for a man with gray hair on his head, old Bibleback Hunt that day was the happiest mortal I ever saw.
