Jim Kane - J P S Brown (33 page)

Kane turned and went to his mule. He pulled the slack
out of his latigo and tightened his cinch. He pulled his flank cinch
snug and buckled it carefully.

The old Valencia smiled."You see, it really
doesn't matter to us whether we sell or not right now. We'll keep
them until Navarro comes. We'll make
carne
seca
, jerky, out of the old cattle now. Poor
people eat pure
carne seca
."
He was now disposed to letting Kane in on how things really were in
the Sierra.

Kane untied the
chamarra
,
the mule's hair lead rope.

"
Plenty cheap cattle other Mexicans here Sierra.
You buy plenty," the old Valencia shouted at Kane
condescendingly, consolingly. '

Kane led the mule away from the fence. The redhead
walked up close to Kane. He put his hand out as though to touch the
butt of Kane's pistol. Kane moved out of his reach, brushed the
redhead's hand with the back of his hand.

"
How much did that pistol cost?" the
redheaded Valencia asked.

"
It was a gift," Kane said.

"
How come nobody ever gives me anything like
that?"'

"
Don't they?"

"
No. Never, never."

The redhead fingered the edge of Kane's chaps. "What
fine leather. Almost like cloth. No good for the
monte
,
the brush, though." He turned to the tall one. "Come here,
little brother, and feel how fine this leather is. Is it really
leather?"

Kane looked at the tall Valencia. He wasn't coming
over.

"
These
chapurreras
are really fine. The brush would tear them to pieces in
no time at all," the redhead said.

"
The
monte
is
very
bravo
,"
Cuevas said quietly from nearby.

"
If I can get that pistol, can I have it?"
the redheaded Valencia asked.

"
Don't make that mistake," Kane said.

"
Lend me your pistol, gringo," the Valencia
said, reaching for the pistol again.

Kane turned slightly and stamped his heel down hard
on the bare instep of the redheads foot. He felt the outside button
of his spur bite down the shin. He leaned toward the redhead and
stepped off when the redhead jerked his foot. The redhead stumbled
backward and almost fell. The first shocked, white slice of the
injury started to color before his eyes.

"
Excuse me," Kane said. He mounted the
tired mule. The mule swayed a little under his weight. "Come on,
Cuevas, we've got a long way to go," he said.

"
Vámonos
,"
Cuevas said.

Kane got the little mule going in a brave imitation
of the good running-walk he had when he had been fresh in the
morning.

"
God rest ye merry, gentlemen," Kane sang
softly. The first big flakes of snow began to fall.
 

21
The
Husbandman

Consentido
means
favorite. A
consentido
is
something you appreciate with all your heart. It is usually applied
to some person, like a favorite son, but it is often applied to a
special charge such as a favorite horse or dog or even a mule or an
ox. Literally, the word carries an implication that a
consentido
is spoiled as he has the consent of his master
in anything he does and his wishes have precedence over his masters
But you are to he a good husbandman of your
consentidos
,
you will see that they perform their certain duties.

Kane was on his way in to Yecora. He would be in that
evening. It was the last day of the seven-day cattle-buying circle he
had made in that part of the Sierra Madre. He was riding a little
brown mule. The animal paced right along, probably sensing he would
be home that night eating
tasol
,
corn leaves, in his own corral.

Kane was nearing the ranch of an old man, Don
Filomeno Borbón. Don Filomeno had been advised that Kane would
arrive on this day.

Kane heard the dogs' barking announcing him before he
saw the house. The road he followed was steep and the house and barn
were on top of a hill. The mule climbed the hill eagerly. He gained
the top and Kane saw that the road separated the house from the barn
and corrals. The house had flowers planted inside a fence in the
front. It was adobe with smooth, whitewashed plaster walls. The roof
was covered with neat, hand-chipped pine shingles. An old couple was
sitting in front.

The old man wore a peaked palm straw hat. The brim
was pulled down all around. It was an old hat, stained in the front
by sweat and strong tobacco smoke. The old man and his wife were
smoking home-grown tobacco rolled in corn husks. When Kane rode up
the old lady put her tobacco away. She got up and went into the
house.

The corral was empty. Kane was disappointed. He
didn't have much time to wait while the old man went after any cattle
he might want to sell.

"
Get down and rest. My wife is bringing you
coffee," Don Filomeno said.

Kane dismounted and loosened his cinches. He shook
hands with the old man, introducing himself.

Cuevas told me you were coming. I expected him to be
with you," the old man said.

"
He went around toward
Maicoba
to see some other cattle," Kane said. "Do you
have any cattle for sale?"

"
I have three young oxen. Look at them and see
what you think."

"
Where are they?"

"Down the hill there in the big pasture."

The old lady brought Kane a cup of hot, thick, black
coffee."

"
Gracias, señora
,"
he said. He looked down where the old man pointed to the pasture. The
pasture was covered with the dry cornstalks from last year's crop. It
was a large pasture. Kane didn't think he would have time to see this
little bunch of cattle. He had to look at a big bunch, maybe 70 or 80
head, yet that evening, and he would be two hours dickering with the
owner. It was still a three-hour ride to Yecora. Kane was anxious to
leave.

"Is there someone who can bring the cattle up
here quickly? Pardon me, but I must move on down the road. It is
getting late and I must see one more bunch this side of Yecora,"
Kane said.

The old man took a polished, hollow, bull horn that
hung by a rawhide thong from a peg by the door. A mouthpiece was
carved on the pointed end. The old man put it to his lips, cupped his
hand over the open end to control the air in the horn, and blew. A
sort of air-rushing blast of sound formed in the horn and as the old
man removed his hand from the end the sound got wider and full of
more air. It was a weak sound, a strange one, but unmistakably a
sound, and the only one that existed on top of the hill at the time.
The old man blew through the horn again and watched the dry stalks
below in the pasture.

"
They are coming," he said. He hung the
horn on its peg.

"
Bring salt for the
bonitos
,
the beauties," he said to his wife.

She came out with a small flour sack full of coarse
salt. The old man took it and walked across the road and slid the
trancas
, the poles,
out of the gate posts and laid them aside. Then he looked down the
road where Kane would be traveling when he went on his way. The
cattle had skirted the bottom of the hill in a hurry and were
starting up the road toward the house. They made mock passes at one
another with their horns, kicked playfully at one another with fat
quarters barely able to simulate a kick, and ran toward the house.
They would stop, turn back, meet a companion, lower a horn as if to
gore horribly, shake their heads, and lumber away up the hill again.
When they got to the gate they all calmed down. They were like
children marching obediently into school or to supper before the eyes
of a stern master. They filed past the old man and quietly entered
the corral.

The first to enter the corral were two young heifers.
Their horns were perfectly formed and burnished clean. The horns
looked varnished. Their eyes were youthfully clear, their hides
shining. Following them were three young oxen. Kane had never seen
oxen so well-matched or in such fine condition. They were not fat,
just very big and husky. After them came five cows of the same color,
a pale, almost yellowish, red. They were stately and dignified as
they entered the corral.

The old man slid the smooth long poles back into the
eyes of the gateposts and walked among his cattle. As he passed each
one he sprinkled a small ration of salt on the moist nose. The long
tongue would roll out and lick the nose clean of the salt and then
tidy up the nostrils with the sharp flip. Small beads of moisture
would spring back in profusion on the clean nose and the animal would
smell lovingly of the old man. The three oxen moved together as
synchronized as a drill team. They moved about the old man, making
room for one another, not jostling or crowding the way most cattle in
a herd crowd and push and mill to gain an advantage.

The old man gave each of his herd a touch and a word
and each reserved his reaction to the man until it was precisely his
turn to be noticed. Then each acknowledged the man's attention by
licking the salt in his hand, or by smelling his arm, or by gently,
tenderly, touching him with the base of the horns and the forehead.
Each waited his turn patiently, with grace.

"The young cattle are all half-brothers and
sisters," Don Filomeno said. "They are the offspring of
these cows and a fine bull, the Enchanted, that I raised myself. The
bull was only ten years old when the lightning killed him last
summer. These cows are bred to him and will calve in the spring. Each
year I have sold the calves at weaning because I have not enough feed
to keep them all in the way they should be kept. The oxen are four
years old now. They are well gentled and educated. They have fine
dispositions which they inherited from their sire. They work
indiscriminately together, none has a preference as to side or
companion. If you like them you may take them."

"
I do like them very much," Kane said.

"
If you need them, want them, I will sell them
to you."

"
How much would you want for them?"

"
I don't know what they are worth."

"
They are worth a lot of money, Don Filomeno."

"
Give me what you think is just."

"
What will you do for oxen to put up your crop
this spring?"

"
I will manage my crop. If you want them take
them."

"Don Filomeno, do you need to sell them?"

"
Absolutely not. I am too old to ever be so much
in need again."

"
Would you mind if I didn't buy them?"

"
Absolutely not. My wife will rejoice."

"
Then, with your permission I am going to say
good-bye, mount my mule, and get going."

"
As you wish. It is too bad you came so far for
nothing."

"
I only wish I could see your oxen work."

"
You are welcome to come to our house anytime,
for any reason."

Kane untied his mule, shook hands with the old man,
mounted the mule, and settled himself to the road away from the
little farm.

At the bottom of the hill he saw the gate on the
trail where he had first seen the oxen playing. He was glad he
wouldn't be the one to take them away from the old couple. They would
be going back through the gate to rustle in their cornfield again
this evening.
 

22
The
Circle

Trancas
are
used in gates. Two thick axhewn boards are placed in the ground on
each side of a gate. These boards have holes bored in them through
which the long, smoothly peeled trancas are slid, barring the gate. A
saying: "
brincar las trancas"
means, literally, to jump the gate poles. It
also means to get away, to get with the wild bunch, to go loose and
free. It may also be used about the breeding gf a mare. If the stud
gets in to breed the mare in the night and is led in by the owner of
the mare, the owner of the stud could get angry. The owner of the
mare might then explain the incident by saying, "
¿Pués,
qué quieres que haga? Tu semental brincó las trancas."
Meaning: "What do you want me to do about
it? Your stud jumped the gate Also meaning: Certain animal urges must
be accepted as natural and borne with good grace. This saying is also
often used to explain away the mischief of a man, as it is accepted
among Mexicans that sometimes the stud in a man gains the advantage.