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Six Little Bunkers at Uncle Fred's, a fiction by Laura Lee Hope |
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Chapter 8. Russ Makes A Lasso |
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_ CHAPTER VIII. RUSS MAKES A LASSO There was so much noise that, at first, no one could make his or her voice heard. Then, as the sound of the shooting died away a little, and the whoops and shouts were not so loud, Laddie cried: "Is that the Indians, Uncle Fred? Are they trying to get us?" "Where's my lasso?" demanded Russ. "I had one on the train! Where is it, Mother? I want to lasso an Indian for Jerry Simms." "Can't the cowboys help fight the Indians?" demanded Laddie, capering about in his excitement. "Oh, look!" suddenly exclaimed Rose, and she pointed to a lot of men on horses coming around the corner of the big ranch house. And as the children looked, these men again fired their big revolvers in the air, making such a racket that Mother Bunker covered her ears with her hands. "Oh, here come the cowboys!" yelled Russ. "Now the Indians will run!" "Let me see the cowboys! Let me see the cowboys!" cried Mun Bun. "Has they got any cows?" Right up to where the six little Bunkers stood rode the cowboys on their horses, or "ponies," as they are more often called. Then the men suddenly pulled back on the reins, and up in the air on their hind legs stood the horses, the men clinging to their backs, swinging their big hats and yelling as loudly as they could. "Oh, it's just like a circus!" cried Rose. "Indeed it is," said her father. "More like a Wild West circus, I suppose." "Did you get this show up for us, Fred?" asked Mother Bunker, when the cowboys had quieted down, and had ridden off to the corral, or place where they kept their horses. "No, I didn't know anything about it," answered Uncle Fred. "But the cowboys often ride wild like that when they come in from their work and find visitors. They shoot off their revolvers, 'guns,' as they call them, and make as much noise as they can." "What for?" asked Violet. "Oh, just because they feel good, and they want to make everybody else feel good, too, I suppose." "Will the Indians come?" asked Laddie hopefully. "No, there aren't any Indians," his uncle told him. "At least not any around here now. Sometimes a few come from the reservation, but there's none here now." The six little Bunkers watched the cowboys ride away to put their horses out to grass and wash themselves for supper, or "grub," or "chuck," or "chow," as they called it, giving the meals different names used according to the place where they had worked before. "I'm glad they weren't Indians," said Laddie to Russ, as they went in the ranch house where Uncle Fred lived. "Pooh! I wasn't afraid!" said Russ. "No, I wasn't either," went on Laddie. "But I don't like Indians to come at you the first thing. I was glad they were cowboys." "If they'd've been Indians I'd've lassoed 'em!" declared Russ. "How could you, when you didn't have a lasso?" "I'm going to make one," declared Russ. "I'll help you lasso," offered Laddie. "Pooh! you don't know how," said Russ. "But I'll teach you," he added. "Come in and wash yourselves for supper," called Mother Bunker to the two boys, who had stayed out on the porch to see if the cowboys would again ride their horses around so wildly and shoot off the guns which made so much noise. "You must be hungry, Russ and Laddie." "I am," Laddie admitted. "So'm I," agreed Russ. Into Uncle Fred's ranch house went all six little Bunkers. They liked the place from the very first. It was different from their house at home. The room they went into first extended the width of the house. It was "big enough for the whole Bunker family and part of another one to sit in, and not rock on one anothers' toes," Mother Bunker said. Back of this big apartment, called the living-room, was the dining-room. Then came the kitchen, and, off in another part of the house, were the sleeping-rooms. The ranch house was only one story high, and it was, in fact, a sort of bungalow. It was very nice. Even though it was away out on the plains Uncle Fred's house had some of the same things in it that the Bunkers had at home. There was running water, and a bathroom, and a sink in the kitchen. "The water comes from the mysterious spring I told you about," said Uncle Fred when Mrs. Bunker asked him about it. "We pump it up into a tank with a gasolene engine pump, and then it runs into the bathroom or wherever else we want it. Oh, we'll treat you all right out here, you'll see!" "I'm sure you will," said Mother Bunker. The children were washed and combed after their long journey, and then Uncle Fred led them out to the dining-room. "Who does your cooking?" asked Mrs. Bunker. "Bill Johnson," was the answer. "He's a fine cook, too." "Is he a _man_?" asked Rose, in some surprise. "When you see him you'll say so!" exclaimed her uncle. "Bill is about six feet tall, and as thin as a rail. But he certainly can cook." "I didn't think a _man_ could cook," went on Rose. "Of course they can!" laughed her father. "You ought to see me cook when I go camping and fishing. And the cook we had in the train coming here was a man." "Was he?" asked Rose. "How funny!" "Here he comes now," said Uncle Fred, as a tall, thin man, wearing a white apron and a cap came into the room with a big tray balanced on his hands. "Bill, this little girl thinks you can't cook because you're a man!" "Oh, I only said--I only said----" and Rose blushed and hung her head. "That's all right!" laughed Bill Johnson. "If she doesn't like my cooking I'll have her come out and show me how to make a pie or a cake!" and he laughed at Rose. But the six little Bunkers all agreed that they never had a better meal than that first one at Uncle Fred's, even if it was cooked by a man who used to be a cowboy, as he told them later. "It was as good as Grandma Bell's," said Russ. "And as good as Aunt Jo's," added Rose. "I'm glad we came!" declared Laddie, as he pulled a cookie out of his pocket. He had taken it away with him from the table. After supper the children and grown folk walked around the ranch near the house. They saw where the cowboys slept in the "bunk house," and looked in the corral where the ponies were kept when they were not being ridden. "Where are the little ponies we are to ride?" asked Rose of her uncle. "I'll show them to you to-morrow," he promised. "It's too far to go over to their corral to-night." "Will the cowboys shoot any more?" Laddie wanted to know. "No, not to-night," said his father. "I guess they want a rest as much as you children do." Indeed the six little Bunkers were very willing to go to bed that night. They were tired with their long journey, and sleeping in a regular bed was different from curling up in a berth made from seats in a car. Even Mun Bun slept soundly, and did not walk in his sleep and get in bed with any one else. Early in the morning the children were down to breakfast. They found that Bill Johnson could get that sort of meal just as well as he could cook a supper, and after taking plenty of milk and oatmeal, with some bread and jam, the six little Bunkers were ready to have some fun. They had on their play clothes, for the trunks and valises had been unpacked, and as the weather was mild, though it was not quite summer yet, they could play out of doors as much as they liked. "I'm going to look at the cowboys," announced Russ, as he got up from the table. "I want to see how they lasso." "So do I," said Laddie. "Then you'll have to wait a bit, boys," Uncle Fred told them. "The cowboys have ridden over to the far end of the ranch to see about some cattle. They won't be back until evening." "Could we walk over and see 'em?" asked Russ. "I want to see how they lasso." "Well, it's several miles to where they have gone," said Uncle Fred. "I'm afraid you couldn't walk it. But you can go almost anywhere else you like, as there's no danger around here." "Are there any wild bulls or steers or cows that might chase them?" asked Mother Bunker. "No," answered her brother. "There are a few little calves in a pen out near the barn, but that's all. The cattle and horses are far away." "Let's go out and see this mysterious spring of yours," said Daddy Bunker. "I'm eager to have a look at it. I'll take the camera along and get some pictures. Come, children!" Rose and Violet, with Margy and Mun Bun, followed their father and mother and Uncle Fred. Laddie and Russ lagged behind. "Aren't you coming?" asked their mother. "I'm going to make a lasso," said Russ. "So'm I," added Laddie. "Oh, let them play by themselves," said Uncle Fred. "They can't do any damage nor come to any harm. They can see the spring later." So Russ and Laddie went off by themselves to make a lasso. Russ found a piece of clothesline, which Bill Johnson, the cook, said he might take, and soon Russ and his brother were tying knots and loops in the strong cord. If you don't know what a lasso or lariat is I'll tell you. It is just a long rope with what is known as a slip-knot in one end. That end is thrown over a horse, a cow, or anything else you want to catch. The loop, or noose, slips along the long part of the string, and is pulled tight. Then the horse or cow can be held and kept from getting away. Mother and Daddy Bunker, with the four little Bunkers and Uncle Fred, were looking at the queer spring, which I'll tell you about a little later, when Laddie came running up to them. "What's the matter?" asked Uncle Fred, seeing that the small boy seemed excited. "Russ made--made a lasso," panted Laddie, for he had been running, and was out of breath. "Yes, I know he said he was going to," said Uncle Fred. "That's all right. Have a good time with it." "Russ made--made a lasso, and he--he lassoed one of the little cows with it!" went on Laddie. "Oh, did he!" exclaimed Mr. Bell with a laugh. "Well, I guess what little lassoing Russ can do won't hurt the calf. They are all pretty well grown." "But Russ can't--can't get loose!" went on Laddie. "He's yelling like anything and he says I'd better come and tell you! He lassoed the calf but he can't get loose--I mean Russ can't get loose!" "Oh, my goodness!" exclaimed Mrs. Bunker. "I might have known something would happen!" _ |
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