The Moving Picture Girls at Rocky Ranch
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Laura Lee Hope >> The Moving Picture Girls at Rocky Ranch
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"Well, then, I suppose I'll have to. But I hope I will get a gentle
horse."
"Oh, Pete will see to that."
"Pete? Do you call him by his first name so soon?" asked Ruth rather
shocked, as she shook out her robe, and ran a ribbon through the neck.
"Everyone calls him Pete; why shouldn't I?" laughed Alice. "He's awfully
nice--and he's been married three times!"
"Did you ask him that?"
"No, he told me. He asked me if I'd ever been 'hooked up,' as he called
it."
"Alice DeVere!"
"Well, I couldn't help it. He meant all right. He's old enough to be our
father. Do you think daddy is quite well?" she asked, perhaps to change
the subject.
"Yes, I think the pure air out here is doing him good. His throat seems
much improved. Are those my slippers?" she asked, quickly, as Alice
thrust her pink feet into a pair of worsted "tootsies."
"Indeed they are not. I just took these out of my trunk. There are yours
under your bed."
"Oh, excuse me. I don't believe I shall need anyone to sing me to sleep
to-night," and she yawned comfortably.
There were to be busy times at Rocky Ranch next day, for some cattle
were to be branded, or marked with the hot iron to establish their
ownership, and Mr. Pertell had decided to have some scenes of this, with
his own players worked in as part of the action.
This had already been planned, and after breakfast there was a short
rehearsal of the players, while the cowboys were getting ready for the
branding.
"Now we're ready for you," announced Pete Batso, who was in charge of
the cowboys. "Get your players in position. They're going to rope the
first critter now."
The proper action for the scene was gone through by Ruth, Alice, Paul
and Mr. Sneed, and then one of the cowboys "cut out," or separated from
the rest, a young steer that had not yet been branded.
"Whoop-ee!" yelled the cow puncher as he hurled his lariat and pulled
the animal to the ground. Other cowboys quickly threw their ropes around
the fore and hind legs of the steer and then, with another rope around
the head, the creature was stretched out helpless, ready for the
application of the iron.
CHAPTER XIV
A WARNING
"Oh, doesn't it hurt them?" faltered Ruth, as creature after creature
was branded.
"No, Miss, hardly at all," Pete Batso assured her. "You see they're used
to being roped, and we don't throw them as hard as it looks, onless it's
an ornery critter that wants to make trouble. And the hot iron doesn't
go in deep. It just sort of crimples up the hair, same as you ladies
frizzes your curls with a hot slate pencil--at least my second wife--no,
it was my third--she used to curl hers that way."
Ruth had difficulty to keep from laughing.
The branding was almost over, and the taking of pictures was nearly at
an end. Russ had obtained some good films, and the action was spirited.
"Here comes a bad one," announced the foreman, as the cow punchers cut
out from the herd a big steer. "That's a vicious critter, all right!"
"Oh, is there any danger?" asked Alice, for she and Ruth had finished
their work. Mr. Bunn and Paul were engaged in the final scenes, not far
from the place of the branding.
"Oh, don't worry. That critter won't get away from the boys," the
foreman assured her. "It's a steer that some of the other ranchmen
around here tried to claim for theirs. They changed the brand by burnin'
an arrow over our circle and dot. Now we've got to put our brand on
again. The steer knows what's comin', I guess."
Indeed the animal did, for it resisted, for some time, the efforts of
the cowboys to separate it from the rest of the bunch. But finally it
was forced out into an open space, and there quickly roped and thrown.
"Lively now, boys!" called the foreman. "We've got to clear out of here
right after this, and look after that bunch of critters by Sweetwater
Brook. I hear the rustlers have been after them. So get a move on."
"What are rustlers?" asked Alice, who seldom let pass a chance to
acquire information.
"Cattle stealers, Miss. Ornery, mean men who trade on the rights of
others. But we'll snub 'em if we get hold of 'em!"
The branding of the big steer was quickly done and then the restraining
ropes were cast off so that it might get up. With a deep bellow the
animal sprang to its feet. It stood still for a moment and then, with a
snort, it wheeled around and made straight for Mr. Bunn.
For a moment the veteran actor stood still. Fortunately, some little
distance separated him from the steer. Otherwise he might have been
impaled on its short horns.
"Run! Run!" cried Pete Batso. "Get out the way, and give the boys a
chance to rope him!"
Mr. Bunn needed no second call. He sprang to one side, in time to avoid
a sweep of the horns, and started to run. The steer, evidently
connecting the actor with the recent branding, made after him, and then
began a chase that might have resulted seriously.
"Stop him! Save me! Do something!" cried Mr. Bunn, as he raced about,
keeping just ahead of the angry steer.
"Just a minute--we'll rope him!" cried the foreman. But the trouble was
that the cowboys nearest the scene had just pulled their lariat from the
branded beast and the ropes were not coiled in readiness for throwing.
The foreman himself had left his at the ranch house.
On rushed Mr. Bunn. On came the steer, and only a little way behind the
actor. The distance was lessening every second.
"He ought to be on a horse--then he wouldn't have any trouble," declared
the foreman. "Lively there, Buster--get that critter!"
"Right away, Pete," was the answer as the cowboy coiled his rope for a
throw. Then, galloping his pony up behind the steer, Buster threw the
lariat over the head of the animal, and brought it with a thud to the
ground.
"Oh, am I safe?" gasped Mr. Bunn as he sank down on some saddles that
had been removed from the horses.
"You're all right now," Paul assured him. "But it certainly was a lively
time while it lasted."
"That's so," agreed Russ, who had not deserted his camera. "But why
didn't you run toward me while you were at it. I could have made better
pictures then."
"Do you--do you mean to say you took a film of me running away from
that--that cow?" panted Mr. Bunn, who had lost his tall silk hat early
in the chase.
"Well, I just couldn't help it," confessed Russ. "It was too good to
miss. I think I got most of it."
"Where's Mr. Pertell?" demanded Mr. Bunn, getting up quickly. "I want to
see the manager at once."
"What's the trouble?" asked that gentleman, as he came up.
"I demand that you destroy that film of me being chase by a cow!" cried
Mr. Bunn. "I shall be the laughing stock of all the moving picture
theaters of the United States. I demand that that film be not shown. To
be chased by a _cow_!"
"But it wasn't a cow, my friend," spoke the foreman. "It was a vicious
steer and you might have been badly hurt if Buster hadn't roped it in
time."
"Is that so?" asked Mr. Bunn.
"It sure is!"
"Well, er--then--perhaps after all, if it was as important as that, you
may show the film," conceded the Shakespearean actor, who had a large
idea of his own importance. "We might make it into some sort of a play
like 'Quo Vadis?'" he went on.
"Hardly," said Mr. Pertell with a smile. "They didn't wear tall silk
hats in those days. But I'll change the script of this play to conform
to the chase. I'm glad you were not hurt, Mr. Bunn."
"So am I. I thought several times that I felt those horns in my back."
The vicious steer was held by the ropes until the company of players
had left the scene. Then it was allowed to get up and join the rest of
the bunch. By that time it seemed to have lost all desire to attack.
"Sometimes a steer will come for a person that isn't on horseback,"
explained Pete Batso. "You see, the cattle are so used to seeing mounted
men that they can't get used to anyone afoot. You want to get your
players mounted," he added to Mr. Pertell, who was a fair horseman, and
who was on this occasion in the saddle.
"I guess I will," agreed the manager. "Some of the young ladies are
quite anxious to try it, if you have some gentle mounts."
"Oh, I think I can fix them up. My boys will quarrel among themselves,
though, for the privilege of giving lessons to 'em. You see we don't get
much of ladies' society out here and we appreciate it so much the more."
"I see," laughed Mr. Pertell.
The next few days were given over to horseback practice on the part of
all the members of the moving picture company save Mrs. Maguire. She
declared she was too old to learn, and as she would not be required in
mounted scenes she was excused. But her little grandchildren were
provided with gentle ponies and taught how to sit in the saddle. Mr.
DeVere had ridden in his youth, and the knack of it soon came back to
him, though he was a trifle heavy. Paul took to it naturally, and Miss
Pennington and Miss Dixon were soon able to hold their own, as was Ruth.
But Alice was the "star," according to Baldy Johnson, who insisted on
being her instructor. She was an apt pupil, and he was a good and
conscientious teacher. In less than a week Alice was very sure of
herself in the saddle.
"Oh, it's simply great! It's wonderful!" she cried as she came back one
day from a gallop, with red cheeks and eyes that sparkled with the light
of health and life. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything!"
"I am glad you like it," said her father. "It is good exercise for you."
"I like it, too," declared Ruth, "but I'm not as keen for it as Alice
is."
"Oh, I just love it!" cried the younger girl, enthusiastically.
"Now we'll begin some real Western scenes, since you can all ride fairly
well," remarked Mr. Pertell.
"Fairly well--huh! She's a peach at it--that's what she is--a peach!"
cried Baldy Johnson, with a look of admiration at his pupil. Alice
blushed with delight.
During the days of horseback practice Mr. Pertell and Russ had been on
the lookout for any signs of activity on the part of their rivals in the
moving picture business; but nothing had happened. The man with the
other camera seemed to have disappeared.
"Maybe they've given up," suggested Russ.
"I hope so," agreed Mr. Pertell.
A few days later several important scenes were to be filmed, and one
evening Alice, who was to have a large share in the acting, had her
horse saddled, and with Ruth and her father, accompanied by Baldy, set
off for a little gallop.
"Let's go over to that _mesa_," suggested Alice, pointing to a big,
elevated hill, standing boldly and abruptly upright in the midst of the
plain.
"No, I wouldn't go there," said Baldy, flicking his horse with the
reins. "That's a dangerous place, Miss. Best keep away."
CHAPTER XV
THE INDIAN RITES
Alice glanced curiously at the cowboy. There seemed to be a strange look
on his face.
"What do you mean?" she asked, adding in a half-bantering tone: "Is it
haunted?"
"Oh, Alice!" objected Ruth, shaking out her skirt so it would hang down
a little longer, for the girls rode side-saddle.
"No, Miss, it ain't exactly haunted," replied Baldy. "But it ain't a
safe place to go--least-ways, not all alone."
"But why?" persisted Alice.
"Because that's a sort of sacred place--at least some of the Indians
from the reservation think so--and, though it's off their land, and
really belongs to Mr. Norton, them redskins come over, once in a while,
to hold some of their heathen rites on it."
"Oh, how interesting!" the girl cried. "I wonder if we couldn't see
them? Do they do a snake dance, and things like that?"
"Well, yes, in a way," Baldy admitted. "But it ain't safe to go watch
'em. Them Indians are peculiar. They don't want strangers lookin' on,
and more than once they've made trouble when outsiders tried to climb up
there and watch. As I said, the Indians come from their reservation,
which is several miles away, to that place for their ceremonies. And
they come at odd times, so there's no tellin' when you might strike a
body of 'em up on top there, pow-wowin' to beat the band, and yellin'
fit to split your ears. So it's best to keep away."
"Are the Indians really dangerous?" asked Mr. DeVere.
"Well, I don't s'pose they'd actually _scalp_ you," replied Baldy,
slowly.
"Oh, how terrible!" exclaimed Ruth with a shiver.
"They ain't got no right to come off their reservation," went on the
cowboy; "but they do it all the same. You see this place is pretty well
out of the way, and by the time we could get troops here to drive 'em
back, they'd probably be gone of their own accord, anyhow. So we sort of
let 'em alone. They don't bother us, and we don't bother them. Just keep
away from that hill, that's all, for it's so high you can't see the top
of it unless you climb up, and there's no tellin' when the Indians come
and go."
"I should like to see some of those rites, just the same," declared
Alice.
"Oh, but you won't go there; will you?" begged Ruth. "Promise me you
won't, my dear. Daddy, make her!"
"I won't go _alone_, I promise you that," laughed Alice.
"Of course with a party it might be all right," assented Baldy, "but
even then the Indians act rather hostile."
"Mr. Pertell will be sure to want some moving pictures of the Indians,
if he hears about them," said Mr. DeVere. "Better not tell him, or he
might run into danger--or send Russ."
"Then we won't say a thing about it!" exclaimed Ruth, with such sudden
energy that Alice laughed.
"Oh, no, we mustn't endanger _Russ_!" she said, mockingly.
"Alice!" exclaimed Ruth, with gentle dignity, her face the while being
suffused with a burning blush. "I meant I didn't want _anyone_ to run
into danger."
"I understand, my dear. Oh, but isn't that sunset gorgeous?--to change
the subject," and she laughed at the serious expression on Ruth's face.
The scene was indeed beautiful. The _mesa_ seemed to be suffused by a
purple glow, while, farther off, the foothills, from which it was
separated by a level expanse, were in a golden haze. The _mesa_ stood up
boldly, almost like some giant toadstool, save that the stem was
thicker. There was an overhang to the top, or table part, though, that
carried out the resemblance.
"I should think that would be difficult of access," observed Mr. DeVere.
"There's an easy way up on the other side," returned Baldy. "The Indians
always use that side. It's a narrow path to the top."
The cowboys, their work over for the day, were indulging in some of
their pastimes--rough riding, feats in throwing the lariat, jumping,
wrestling and the like.
"Don't you want to go with them?" asked Alice of their escort.
"No, Miss, I--I'd rather be with you," Baldy replied, simply, but he
blushed even under his coat of tan.
"Now who's to blame?" asked Ruth in a low voice of her sister, as she
regarded her with a quizzical smile.
"I can't help it if he likes me," murmured the younger girl.
In fact both Ruth and Alice were favorites with all the cowboys, who
were always willing to perform any little service for them. The other
members of the moving picture company, too, were well liked; but Ruth
and Alice seemed to come first. Perhaps it was because they were both so
natural and girlish, and took such an interest in the life and doings at
Rocky Ranch.
Ruth and Alice were fast becoming adepts in the saddle. The other
members of the company, too, soon felt more at home on the back of a
horse, and Mr. Pertell allowed them to rehearse in the scenes where
mounted action was necessary.
Mr. Bunn had one rather unlucky experience on a horse, and for some time
after that he refused to mount a steed, even going to the length of
threatening to resign if compelled to.
The "old school" actor was rather supercilious in his manner, and this
was resented by some of the cowboys, who thought him "stuck up." They
therefore planned a little joke on him. At least, it was a joke to them.
The horse Mr. Bunn had learned to ride was a steady-going beast that had
outlived its frisky days, and plodded along just the pace that suited
the actor. But there was, among the ranch animals, a "bucking bronco,"
who looked so much like Mr. Bunn's horse that even some of the cowboys
had difficulty in telling them apart.
A bucking bronco, it might be explained, is a steed who by nature or
training uses every means in its power to unseat its rider. The bucking
consists in the horse leaping into the air, with all four feet off the
ground, and coming down stiff-legged, jarring to a considerable degree
the person in the saddle.
One day, just for a "joke," the bucking bronco was brought out for Mr.
Bunn to ride, when a certain film was to be made. He did not notice that
it was not his regular mount. The bronco was quiet and tractable enough
until Mr. Bunn settled himself in the saddle, and then, just as Russ was
about to make the film, the pony set off at a fast pace.
"Whoa, there! Whoa!" cried Mr. Bunn, trying to halt the beast, and not
understanding what could have gotten into his usually quiet mount.
"Whoa, there!"
"Give him a touch of the spur," called the mischievous cowboy.
Mr. Pertell did not know what to make of the actions of his actor, for
the play called for nothing like that.
"Shall I get that?" asked Russ, and before the manager could answer the
bronco began running around in a circle.
"Yes! Get it!" ordered Mr. Pertell. "We can change the play to work it
in. It's too funny to lose."
"Whoa! Stop it! Somebody stop him! I'm getting dizzy!" cried Mr. Bunn,
leaning forward and clasping his arms about the neck of the pony.
By accident he dug the spurs lightly into the side of the beast, and as
this always made the animal buck, or leap up into the air, it now
changed its tactics.
With legs held stiff it rose several feet, and came down hard. Mr. Bunn
was bounced up, and would have been bounced off had he not had that neck
grip. Again the bronco bucked.
"Oh stop him! Stop him!" cried the actor.
"Get every move of that, Russ!" called Mr. Pertell.
But there was not much more to get, for with the next buck Mr. Bunn's
hold was loosened and away he shot, out of the saddle. Fortunately he
landed on a pile of hay and was not hurt beyond a shaking up. But Russ
got a good picture of the whole scene. The actor picked himself up, and
without a word started for the ranch house. Probably he suspected the
trick that had been played on him, and for some days after that he
refused to mount a horse, so Mr. Pertell had to make some changes in his
plans, as he did not care to antagonize Mr. Bunn by insisting on his
taking part.
And when the actor did again get into the saddle, he had his horse
branded on one hoof, as army horses are marked, so he could not again be
deceived.
Life at Rocky Ranch was a delight to all the moving picture players,
though there was plenty of hard work, too.
Of course it was impossible to keep from Mr. Pertell the story of the
Indians and their rites on the _mesa_, and he determined, before he left
the West, to get a film of them.
"But you'll have to be careful, Russ, how you go about it," he said.
"That's what I will," agreed the operator.
It was about a week after this that Russ, Paul, Alice, Ruth and Mr.
DeVere were riding out toward the _mesa_ to get some scenes in the
foothills, the two girls, their father and Paul being scheduled to go
through a little act by themselves.
As they passed under the shadow of the eminence Russ looked up and saw a
thin wisp of smoke curling around the top.
"Look!" he exclaimed. "I wonder if the Indians can be there now, doing
some of their snake ceremonies?"
"Let's have a look," suggested Paul. "We've got lots of time. I'd like
to have a peep."
"I would too!" exclaimed Alice.
"Oh, Daddy, will it be safe?" asked Ruth, for she saw that her father
seemed interested.
"There are so many of us, I think so," he replied. "We will try it, at
all events. They can no more than tell us to go. I should very much like
to see what they do, and perhaps I can get some of their weapons or
musical instruments for my collection," for the actor had that fad. And
then, though Ruth was a bit timid about it, they turned toward the
elevated table land to see if the Indians were at their rites.
CHAPTER XVI
PRISONERS
"Russ, are you going to try to get a film?" asked Alice, as she saw the
young operator examining his camera.
"I was thinking of it," he confessed. "I guess I've got film enough to
get you people, and take about eight hundred feet of the Indians--that
is, if they'll let us."
"Maybe we can make them believe the camera is some new kind of magic,
that will help them better than some of their own," suggested Paul. "One
of the cowboys was telling me the Indians come here to make magic or
'medicine' that they take back to the reservation with them, to ward off
sickness, bring good crops, and the like."
"Well, don't run into danger, whatever you do," advised Mr. DeVere.
"We'll just take a look, if we can, and come away."
"But I want a film," insisted Russ.
They were nearing the _mesa_. The smoke on top was seen to be growing
thicker, but there were no other signs that the Indians were on top of
the peculiar, table-like formation.
"Suppose they aren't there?" suggested Paul.
"Oh, don't come any of that Mr. Sneed business," laughed Russ. "Don't
cross a bridge until you come to it. I guess they're there, all right."
"Who's that coming after us?" asked Ruth, as she turned in her saddle,
and indicated an approaching horseman, who was coming on at a gallop. A
cloud of dust almost hid him, and it could not be made out who he was.
A little later, as he drew nearer, however, he was seen to be Baldy
Johnson. He waved his hat at them, his bald pate shining in the hot sun,
and called out:
"Hold on! Where you goin'?"
"Up to the _mesa_," answered Russ. "The Indians are there, I think, and
we want to see them. I want to get some pictures."
The two girls expected Baldy to make an objection, but he merely said:
"Well, I guess it'll be safe enough this time. I'll go along with you.
There's only a small party of them up there now."
"Then you know the Indians are there?" asked Alice.
"Yes, we got word at the ranch last night that they were on the way for
one of their regular pow-wows. One of the boys was out looking up some
stray cattle and he seen 'em headin' for the _mesa_. But there wasn't
many, so I guess it'll be safe. I'll go along," and he glanced
significantly at the two big revolvers that hung from either hip.
"But can you spare the time?" asked Alice.
"Oh, yes, Miss. I'd make time, anyhow," and he smiled frankly at her.
That was one nice feature of Baldy's admiration. It was so open and
ingenuous that no one--not even Ruth--could take offense at it. "I'm on
a little round-up of my own, looking for signs of rustlers, and I
haven't any special office hours," he finished, laughingly. "So come
along. I'll take you by the easiest path."
The ride around the _mesa_, to a point where it could be climbed, took
nearly an hour. During that time the girls and the others cast curious
glances at the top of the table-like elevation, but were not able to
detect any signs of the redmen. The little pillar of smoke, too,
disappeared.
"Now for some hard work; but take it as easy as you can," suggested
Baldy, as they came to the trail that led up the slope.
"Oh, we can never get the horses up that," objected Ruth, as she looked
at the elevation. "It's too steep."
"Just leave it to the ponies, Miss," responded Baldy. "They know how to
make it easy for themselves and you. Leave it to them. I'll take the
lead, and you follow me. Take it easy!"
It was not as difficult as it looked, once the horses were given free
rein. Baldy's pony seemed to have traveled the trail before and, on
inquiry, the girls learned that this was so.
"When I'm sure I'm not goin' to run into a bunch of redskins I often
come up here," said the cowboy. "I can get a good view of the country
from this elevation, when I'm trying to locate a strayed bunch of
cattle."
"Isn't it lonesome here?" asked Ruth, as she looked about her, and up
and down the trail. Indeed the scenery was wild and desolate, though
imposing in its grandeur.
"Well, it ain't exactly the 'Great White Way' that Miss Pennington and
Miss Dixon talk so much about," chuckled Baldy. "There ain't no
skyscrapers except the _mesa_ itself, and there's no electric lights."
"But I like it, just the same!" cried Alice, impulsively. "I think it's
just great! This is the finest country in the world!"
"It sure is, Miss," agreed Baldy in a low voice. "The Lord didn't make a
better," he added, reverently.
The trail became easier for a time, and then more difficult until, as
they neared the top, the girls were almost ready to give up and go back.
Mr. DeVere, too, was a little doubtful about continuing.
"Suppose they drive us back?" the actor asked. "We would never be able
to negotiate a retreat safely down such a slope."
"Oh, I guess it's all right this time," said Baldy. "But if it wasn't
that I'm sure there are only a few Indians here, I wouldn't have let you
come. Keep on. I guess you'll be all right."
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