Chapter 5- Branding

Loneliness is one of the biggest problems in Wyoming ranch country. With homes, miles apart, and plenty of work to do, people didn’t get together very often. So, any event that brought them together was exciting. Branding time was one of these special occasions when all the ranchers got together to help one another.

Since the Newell Ranch was one of the largest on the Rawhide, it always drew many cowhands and their families. The big meadow below the gracious Newell house was the hub of activity on a late May morning.

Very early, Don rode Patches to help his Father bring the calves from the Snow Ranch across the Rawhide to the main ranch. This was tedious and dangerous work since the Rawhide was just receding after the spring thaw. They chose a shallow area to urge the little ones across the creek. Sometimes, Father had to carry an unusually stubborn or small one across. The calf would bawl and the angry mother would charge. Don’s job was to keep the ones not yet across headed toward the Rawhide and stay between his father and the angry mother until her baby was safely across. Patches enjoyed this kind of work. He loved to fight and had been known to bite an angry cow if she came too close. Don enjoyed the challenge and sense of importance he felt from this work.

They had been so busy that morning, no one paid any attention to Bucky. He always enjoyed a good run with Don as he rode Patches for fun or to help his Father. He was used to wandering around among a herd of cattle ad had thought nothing of helping himself to a little hay as the cattle were being fed. A lick from the salt lick was another treat he enjoyed. Bucky and Patches special enjoyed a good race – even though as hard as Don would urge Patches forward, Bucky always won.

Following along in these cattle moving operation was a natural activity for this curious antelope. Sometimes he pretended to be part of the herd, often receiving a kick from a cow as he imitated her baby and tried to steal a drink. Then he would bound away and follow behind their horses for a while.

As the cattle were being moved across the creek, he stood at the top of a little hill watching this strange process. He saw Patches head another mother cow off just as she was ready to charge. There was one from the other direction that Don and his faithful pony did not see; she was charging from behind. The little antelope bounded down the hill and placed himself between boy and cow with a little snort.

Father looked up in time to see this cow come to a complete stop. Don drove the other cow across the creek and turned around in surprise to see the stand-off between cow and antelope. With a laugh, Father gave a shout at the cow and drove her across the creek.

When Father and son were within speaking distance, Don said, “Did you see that?”

“Yes, but I don’t believe it, that antelope seems to have a new trick every day!”

“Can he go on with us, Dad?”

“I don’t think we have any choice, do you?”

Once across the Rawhide, it was easy to move the cows and calves on the main ranch where the branding would take place. Bucky followed along quietly staying close to Don and Patches the remainder of the ride.

“Sometimes, I get the feeling, that antelope thinks he’s a dog,” remarked Father. “You know you’ll have to keep a close watch over him when we get to the ranch. It’s hard to tell how people will react. We don’t want him to get into trouble.”

“I’m more concerned how some of those big boys will treat him,” said Don.

“Well, just keep a close eye on him son, don’t let him out of your sight.”

Back home, Mother and the girls had a busy morning. Mother killed three of her young frying chickens. The girls helped in removing the feathers, but refused to have any part of the butcher job. They watched Mother singe them for pin feathers and half watched the butchering process with eyes covered by fingers spread for peeking purposes. ‘Uggs’ and ‘oohs’ accompanied blood and entralls that were falling into a waiting bucket. They were especially fascinated by the gizzard which, when they cut and turned inside out contained a sack filled with very smelly sand. Mother explained that chickens pick up rocks and gravel which are stored in the gizzard. Their food passes through this for digestion since chickens cannot chew.

“No wonder it stinks” remarked Sandie. “I’m sure glad I have teeth.”

After the chickens were cleaned and ready to fry, Mother made a huge potato salad and eggs. “You do the onion, Mom” said Joan, “they make me cry.” A large chocolate cake was also prepared. The girls were quite a mess after cleaning out the pan and licking the big mixing spoon.

By 11 o’clock, all three girls were cleaned up and wearing their new flour sack dresses and sun bonnets. The dinner was all packed in boxes and waiting to be carried to the car. Mrs. Newell herself was picking them up.

Joan was especially excited about the prospect of going to the big house. Mrs. Newell was her special friend. She always smelled so nice and had a special box with pretty satin sachets and beads that she allowed the girls to play with when they visited the big house.

Joan loved to sit by the big windows overlooking the meadow and dream of living in a big house like this. Mrs. Newell seemed to understand her feelings. She would take time to point out a rabbit or a wild flower or bird for the little girl to watch.

By noon, a large table in the yard was nearly sagging under the weight of all the food brought by ranch ladies from many miles to feed the hungry cowhands after a morning of hard work. The big black dinner bell was rung calling the hands together. There was much noise as people greeted each other and children ran in a head-long course for the table.

Mr. Newell held up his hands, and the noise quieted down. Children bowed their heads respectively as the rancher offered a prayer over the food. When he finished, he invited everyone to eat and it was no longer quiet. Everyone visited with friends they hadn’t seen for some time. They ate until they could eat no more.

Someone brought out a guitar and those who could, after eating so much, sang as the others relaxed. Children began to wander off to play.

Don stayed on the edge of the yard. He talked Joan into bringing him some food. Bucky had become she around all these people and Don was afraid to leave him alone. So far, all the men had been too busy to notice an antelope wandering around. But Don was expecting the big boys to notice and start teasing his pet.

Soon, Mr. Newell gave the signal that it was time for all the men to go back to work. Don waited until all the men and boys were headed for the large corral area where the calves had been separated from their mothers.

The branding corral was a place of noise and confusion. Cattle were bawling for their babies. Calves were bawling for their mothers. Horsemen with ropes in hand rode among the calves. A rope snaked out from a riders’ hands with a hiss and the loop found its place around a calf’s unsuspecting head. Snap! The loop became tight as the rider pulled up on the slack. The calf struggled and bawled.

One of the boys raced out to wrestle down a calf, sometimes it would take two boys to stretch the calf out on his side, one holding his head and front legs, and the other on the back.

From the blazing fire in the center of the corral, a man pulled a red-hot iron and deftly slapped it on the hip of the waiting calf. The air was filled with sizzling smoke and the smell of burnt hair and scorched hide as well; as the wail of the calf who struggles to move, but cannot. Another man with the medical bag quickly completes the dehorning process of cutting off the tiny nebula of horn and applying paste to stop growth. The calf is also quickly checked for any more medical problems and then turned loose to be returned to his mother.

This process was repeated hundreds of times as the afternoon wore on. Don loved being part of the action and always wrestled more than his own rope horse and get in on the “skilled action”. Today he was more concerned about his pet.

At first, Bucky seemed content to wander among the calves at the edge of the corral. Don worried that a roper would rope him. As the little antelope was just naturally curious, he became bolder and bolder. Soon, his snoopy nose was checking out the fire.

Father was busy roping calves, but had also been keeping an eye on the wandering antelope. So far, no one seemed to be paying much attention to the silly pet.

When Bucky began nosing around the fire, Father shouted at Don. Don ran over and swatted Bucky’s nose with the little piece of rope he used to tie a calf’s legs together. By now, others were beginning to notice this “strange calf”.

Some of the big boys who were waiting for a chance to practice their roping decided this was a good time. They ran to the fence and pulled off their coiled-up ropes and began throwing them at the little antelope. Since their aim was not yet accurate, they missed. A couple came close, one nearly caught a back leg as the surprised antelope bounded off toward the calves on the far end of the corral. The boys pulled in their roped and prepared for another throw. Don ran across the corral with his little rope still in hand. As one of the boys prepared to throw again, Don dived at him. Knocking him to the ground, pounding at him with his little piece of rope. The other boy dropped his own rope and tried to pull the smaller boy off of his friend. Don’s rope caught him across the arms and he howled in pain and began pounding the smaller boy with his fist.

“Hey, fellas,” one of the men with the branding iron yelled, “you’re supposed to wrestle the calves, not each other.”

“Leave my antelope alone,” yelled Don from somewhere in the pile of boys.

Mr. Newell arrived on the scene and pulled the three boys apart.

“Now what’s going on here?”

“They tried to rope Bucky,” Don shouted.

“We didn’t know he was a pet,” whined the boys.

“So that’s it, having a little trouble with Bucky again today, I see.” Said Mr. Newell, rubbing his chin.

“Do you suppose it would be all right if we put him in the barn until after the work is done? For his own safety and to get this job done, I don’t think our friend, Warden Benson would mind, do you?” he said with a friendly hand on Don’s shoulder. Bucky came up and put his nose in Don’s hand. The bigger boys sat on the ground looking at Don and his pet with new respect. Don didn’t say a word, he just turned and walked toward the barn with Bucky at his heels.

“Back to work everyone,” said Mr. Newell. He looked at Father and shook his head. Both men grinned, as work resumed in the corral.

Everyone was so busy, no one noticed the green truck with the Wyoming Game and Fish emblem pull up to a stop just outside the corral gate. Warden Benson climbed out of his truck and up on the fence. Suddenly, Don looked up from the calf he was holding and into the eyes of the Warden! His face must have registered the fear he felt inside. Joe Benson smiled and waved at the boy, Don ducked his head and sneaked a furtive glance toward the barn that was hiding his pet.

Mr. Newell walked over to Warden Benson. The two men talked while Don’s heart pumped with fear. He strained to hear what was being said, but the noise was too great.

Soon, the Warden climbed down from his ringside seat and got back in his truck, waved again at Don, and left. Mr. Newell walked over to Don and patted him on the shoulder.

“I didn’t tell him where Bucky is today son.”

A tired boy followed his father home on horseback that evening. Bucky was full of energy and raced ahead or around – but never out of the sight of his beloved friends.