Summer also meant the arduous task of cutting and stacking hay from the meadow along the Rawhide to provide essential feed for the cattle during the long winter months when the grass that was not covered with snow held little nourishment for the cattle.
Large crews of men worked from daylight until dark cutting the tall brome grass, then raked it into rows. These were picked up by the sweep and placed on the stacker which piled the hay high. A man or two stood on the stack and rearranged the hay using a pitchfork to evenly distribute the hay as the stack became higher. The final process was to “top” the stack when it reached the desired height. This meant the hay was rounded off on top to allow rain water to run off the stack and to keep the hay from being blown away by the wind.
The children loved to “help” stack the hay. Their job was to move about on the stack using their weight to pack the evenly distributed hay down for a tighter stack as it was tossed from one place to another. Sometimes an unsuspecting child would find themselves under the pile of hay tossed in their direction by the stacker. When it was time for the topping process, the children would be transported to the ground by the stacker as it was moved away from the newly formed stack and preparations made to start another. Usually, several stacks would be placed close together inside a fenced in area of the meadow. This fence protected the stacks from the animals later turned loose to feed on the meadow.
Dinner was brought to the crew while they worked on the meadow. The men would stop to rest and enjoy a ranch dinner of fried chicken, potato salad, baked beans, and home baked bread with butter. Sometimes, there would be hot apple pie for dessert, but more often huge oatmeal raisin cookies followed the meal. There was always plenty of cold lemonade or tea for this lunch break.
After dinner, the men relaxed for a while to let their food set in. They leaned back against the freshly stacked hay to enjoy a smoke of Bull Durham, which they carefully spread out on white cigarette paper. This was rolled between their fingers, put to their lips, and lit. To them, this was a very relaxing time to tell a good story ad enjoy life.
Father did not smoke and was always a little concerned the men would burn one of his haystacks with a careless match. However, he never said a word about his concern to the men, but he kept a careful eye on their matches.
Having not seen this act before, Bucky was curious about the procedure and watched carefully as the little bag of Bull Durham was returned to a shirt pocket. Its shiny round tag from the drawstring bag, hung outside the man’s pocket. The hay hand occasionally waved an arm in gesture as he told the story.
Suddenly, without warning, Bucky stepped forward. Before the man knew what was happening, the little antelope grabbed the bag from his pocket and ran some distance away. He dropped the bag on the ground for closer examination. Before the luckless hay worker could reach him, Bucky ate the bag and its contents. Father roared with laughter as the man stood there scratching his head and yelling at the little antelope.
From that day on, Bull Durham smokers needed to be on their guard whenever Bucky was around. He developed a taste for either the Bull Durham or its bag, no one was ever sure since he ate the bag and all. More than one man left at the Snow Ranch wishing he had a smoke and perhaps cursing a little antelope that had “the fastest mouth in the west”.
Since it was war time, help was scarce. Mother often worked in the hayfield along with the men. She placed Loreen on the box seat beside her as she operated the rake during the afternoon hours. This gave the children much free time to play along the Rawhide with Buck as their constant companion. They wandered among the willows looking for the perfect branches. These were carved into neat whistles the way Grandfather had taught Don to make on his last visit. Hide and seek among the willows was a favorite game for Bucky. He could be ever so still, but always seemed to get his partner caught because either his ears or white tail showed up too clearly above the brush. Sandie got so mad at him, she tried to find a way to flatten his ears and push his tail down!
Sometimes, the children would try to catch frogs along the edge of the creek. Don always carried a bag for his “finds”. Their goal was to catch enough frogs to convince Mother to cook frog legs. More than once, Mother would look across the meadow from her spot atop the rake and see her children splashing in the creek water. Even though she was fearful for them she realized the worst that could happen would be for one of them to fall in! Oh well! They could always pull each other out. Besides, it’s awfully hot today. A splash of cool water from the creek would feel good! So, on her next round around the meadow, she took a break and joined her children at the creek’s edge. “Not to catch frogs, thank you, just the same children.” For a few minutes she and Loreen splashed in the water and then it was back to the rake. “I need to get this part done before I go back to the house to prepare supper.”
One night, the kids did bring in enough frogs for her to fry them up for supper. The family couldn’t decide whether they the tasted like fish or chicken. Mother found the job a but distasteful. She told Don she hoped it would be awhile froe he wanted to do that again.
Fireside Stories 