Twenty Miles From A Match: Homesteading In Western Nevada

Chapter Thirteen

.~[ Thirteen ]~ ) n making my coyote robe I had used only the best fur, leaving the flank and belly fur, which to me looked too good to throwaway. I thought, "Why can't I dye that fur and make something out of it?" I had some Diamond dye for wool, which I dissolved and put into a boiler of water until I had the desired color; then I put in the skins and boiled them in the dyebath, when all at once I discovered I had a slimy mess of coyote hair and shredded hide. It made me sick at my stomach to even empty it into the hole I had prepared to bury it in. In my homesteadin3 experience I had achieved many accomplishments, but now I was sure I couldn't dye fur. We were gaining some. We had a saddle horse as well as a good team of work horses with which to do our summer's work. Then Daddy took sick again. For weeks he sat propped up in bed, and there seemed to be something worse than shortage of breath ailing him this time. The cowboys came over and helped me get Daddy to bed in the wagon. Then they drove him to the hospital in Reno. I gave them some money to buy a bill of grub to bring back with them for me. They arrived back next night at midnight, but a cowboy 112 TWENTY MILES FROM A MATCH never goes to town without getting drunk, and they were still mighty happy when they reached my place. They were hungry, for they had had nothing to eat since breakfast and the liquor was beginning to wear off. I invited them in, but at first they were reluctant to come, saying, "0h, Mom, we're drunk. You ought to kick us out." "Well, drunk or not, you look like a couple of angels to me, so come in and we'll have a good supper." I made a big pan of biscuits, coffee, and fried some ham and eggs. They had made a special trip to get Daddy to the hospital, and had brought back my supplies, so why should I care if they were a little drunk? Edson had gone to work for the PF outfit in the hayfields that year on the first of June, and he worked through to September, getting a man's wages of a dollar and a half a day. They wound up the haying at the Constantia Ranch one day at noon and were sending the wagons the next day down to the Winnemucca Ranch. Edson, knowing Daddy was in the hospital and that we would need money, was so anxious to get home, he walked the whole eighteen miles that afternoon instead of waiting until the next day when he could have ridden home in the wagon. I must have had a premonition that he was coming, for at dusk I left the children alone and walked across the trail where I met him. We sat down on a rock, and he emptied out his pockets, counting out nearly two hundred dollars in gold and silver. He wanted to know if that would be enough money to get Daddy home, for he seemed to have an idea that we couldn't get Daddy out of the hospital until the bill was paid. CHAPTER THIRTEEN 113 Next morning he hitched up the team and drove proudly in after his father. He paid the hospital bill and had enough money left to buy himself a suit of clothes. In coming home, as they passed Goshie's, the old fellow came out to see A.J. Next time I rode down that way Goshie asked, "How's the old man?" "Pretty good, Goshie. Pretty good. He's all well now." "Good?" said Goshie. "No good! He no good for nothing no more. Better off dead. Never no good no more!" True, Daddy had looked as if he'd never be up and around again, and Goshie had expressed his opinion in his honest way. While Daddy was still in the hospital and Edson was away working, our hay had to be harvested. I was so proud to have a team and all the necessary implements that I wasn't thinking about all the hard work involved in putting up the hay. I had ten-yearold Alice to help...