"THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)

35
37
CHAPTER 3
Hopalong Serves Notice
38
JL he truth of the matter was that Hopalong Cassidy enjoyed ranch life. It was not
only association that made it so, but a deep-seated and genuine appreciation for
what he was doing. He liked cattle and thoroughly understood them. He liked horses,
and good or bad, he enjoyed working with them. Already in his short life he had seen
changes come to the range and he was well aware that the life he lived was not to
last forever.
Where once there had been unlimited miles of unfenced and unsettled range, now fences
were coming up and nesters creeping in. In some places the nester would remain. In
others he would leave, for much of the western grass country was never made for farming.
Once it was plowed, the wind ripped into it and turned the prairie into a vast dustbin
where billowing clouds obscured the sun. But whether he stayed or departed, the nester
and the small rancher were bringing changes into the free range country of the West.
Many of them were honest, home-loving people who wanted nothing more than to make
a living. For such as these Hopalong had respect. There were others, however, who
came only to fatten themselves and their herds on the vaster herds of
38
39
THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES
the big cattlemen, to reap what others had sown, to spend what others had earned.
These last were of two principal types: the out-and-out rustler, who drove off herds,
took his chances with the cattlemen and would shoot it out
if
cornered, and the other type, who covered his stealing under a veil of appearances,
and allied himself to the honest men of the community. To such as these a ranch like
the Rocking R was a veritable honey pot.
Cattle Bob's death was reported far and wide by word of mouth, and into the country
had flocked those who wished to fatten from his herds. The first raids had been tentative,
testing raids to see if the young cub carried the punishing claws of the old bear.
They soon found he did not, and then the looting began. By the time Hopalong Cassidy
arrived it was in full swing, and instead of driving cattle off by the dozen, the
steals were rising in scope until nights came when several hundred head were driven
off at once, and often by several different gangs.
To some of them the name of Hopalong Cassidy was known. No newspaper had published
reports of his activities, for no newspaper was necessary. Drifting hands, stage
drivers, cattle buyers, and all the vast itinerant army of the western country had
carried the news. They knew the manner of man he was and the speed with which he
used his guns. Most of these stories centered in the range country of the great plains
east of the Rockies. However, as such stories always do, these had drifted westward
through the mountain passes from Wyoming and down from Montana until the name was
known to a few at least.
Here and there among the ranks of the outlaws were those who had actually encountered
him before. It was noteworthy, and should have been thought-provoking, that these
were the
39
40