Romance on Rattlesnake Mountain

A rattler slithered past Chip Stewart's feet.

Crunch. He stuck his spade through its neck. Too many of those lately, he thought. He considered the two cattle he had already lost on the range this season due to snake bite. It was a dry Autumn, and the cattle may not have gone for much this year, but he needed the money. Drought and loneliness wore on him like a bad boot. He would hire a couple of local boys to help him with the cattle drive, but he would sell as few as possible. Given another year, the rains might come and the cattle would be fat enough to give a good price in the stockyard.

Dust was his constant companion. Riding his aging mare, Chip could feel it in his ears, down his collar and between his toes. Insidious, he thought, that dust should make its way into my boots.

He had come out west to find his mother, escape his demanding uncle and make his fortune. When he got here, it was too late. His mother had died from a snakebite, during her first year as a mail order bride¹. He should have come sooner.

He wished he had provided for the both of them and not let her listen to her brother. Things might have been okay then.

When his father was on his deathbed, he told Chip that he was the man of the household now. But after he passed, his uncle had come over. He said he would take him in, give him employment. His mother thought this was a great idea. His uncle was wealthy and would provide him with a future that she couldn't. She wanted to be independent and provide for herself, so she responded to an ad in the local gazette, leaving the following week in a cloud of grief and fortitude that befit a Stewart.

Chip worked hard for his uncle. Day and night, working a couple of jobs on the side, he saved up enough money to move to Oregon territory. He needed to protect his mother, and to make sure she was provided for by this stranger.

She sent him a couple of letters that first year, telling him that her husband was quiet, with teenage daughters that needed a mother, and that the house was too dusty to keep clean. Lumber was hard to find in sage brush country, so her new home was dug into the dirt of a hillside. She called it an adventure. When the letters stopped, he figured it was the expense.

His horse, Shetlock, neighed beneath him. Time for some dinner. He rode slowly back to the house, staking Shetlock with water and part of a hay bale to eat, and making a fire in his stove using dried cow patties. The smell was unappetizing, but wood and coal were sparse. He heated the beans in a pot with salt and water from the creek, and set to making cornbread.

Chip's homestead was right next to Jim Mulberry's. The man his mother had married was a reasonable man, with two wild but lovely daughters. He had been obliging to teach Chip the cattle trade, as Marion had told him so many good things about her hardworking son in Illinois.

Suzy Mulberry was the sweetest girl in all of the West, he was sure. He didn't care that she wore jeans like a man, wore a wide-brimmed straw hat and had unrefined manners. She was spunky, hard-working, and refreshingly forthright. Her beautiful straw blond hair flowed behind her when she rode her horse, rounding up her father's cattle like a real wrangler. His mother had liked her.

“Long time, no see, stranger,” Suzy called from the door frame. His face lit up like a lantern at midnight.

“Suzy! I've been busy digging post-holes to fence in my cattle this winter. Lost two to the snakes lately, and the coyotes are getting desperate. How's your Pa?”

“Fine. He hired a couple of the Hausen boys to help with the round-up. We're going to drive them to the train station in Baker² come Friday. Wanna come? We could do it all together, and separate them when we get there.”

“Sounds like a fine idea. Would you stay for some beans and cornbread?”

“Nah, I'd love to, but Miranda gets mighty fussy when I leave all the work for her. I'll see you early Friday, alright?”

“Sounds good.” Chip waved goodbye to her. It was going to be a long four days.

Chip finished his fence by Friday. He awoke at the crack of dawn, meeting up at the Mulberry's and heading out to round up the herds. The brands they had added last spring stood out like Indian paintbrush on a cloudy day.

Seven blissful, industrious days with his favorite girl and her family put Chip in a good mood. The wide, open sky still amazed him. The mountains lay far from his house, but loomed larger than life as he approached Baker. Pine trees became more prevalent and a cold, refreshing breeze began to pour out of the hills.

Separating out the cattle he wanted to sell and rounding them into a pen, he watched as the stockyard manager carefully inspected the cattle.

“You're in luck, young man,” the man said sagely, “since the drought is so widespread, most folk are waiting until next year to sell the bulk of their stock. The supply for beef is low, and considering the weight of these beasts, you're getting a good bargain.”

Chip breathed a sigh of relief. He hoped to propose to Suzy, as soon as he got his feet back under him and got up the nerve.

Jim also got a handsome sum for the few cattle that he sold, considering their meager weight. He could better afford to wait out that year.

The chilly breeze reminded them that winter awaited. They bought plenty of supplies to put in the chuck wagon, using most of their earnings, and headed home. Chip was especially glad that they had stored sufficient hay that spring, right after the rains stopped coming. It would have to last them once the snow got deep.

The trip back felt slower, although it only took six days, since there were fewer cattle. Chip would take out his harmonica on chilly evenings to serenade Suzy, although Jim and Miranda would often sing along with her. The Hausen boys would hit the sack early, exhausted but pleased to make a little cash.

Coming over a ridge on the edge of their homestead, Suzy gasped. “Come here quick, ya'll!” Chip and Jim hastened to her side. There, in a natural canyon where the creek once flowed, were hundreds of rattle snakes, huddling for warmth against the oncoming breeze. They writhed slightly, and Miranda, coming closer with the chuck wagon, leaned over to vomit.

Chip went for the canister of kerosene. “That pit of vipers cost me a month's wages at least.” Pouring it over them, he threw in the smoldering butt of Jim's discarded cigar and stood back. Flames leaped against the sky and the stench of cooked rattler filled the air. “Good 'rid-dins.”

Riding back home, the Hausen boys took off for their place and the Mulberrys and Chip began to discuss the significance of their find. The sunset shone ruby red against a deep blue sky.

“Oh, Chip, do you know what this means? We must be safe from snakes for a mile around! Woo-hoo!” Suzy got so excited, she leaned out of her saddle to give him a peck on the cheek.

Chip blushed and blurted out, “Suzy, would you be my wife and the mother of my children? I can't stand the thought of one more winter without you.”

It was Suzy's turn to blush. She looked to her father, who nodded his approval, and she replied, “I'd like that more than anything.”

“Woo-hoo!” cried Chip, sending his mare flying. Suzy and her steed raced alongside him, looking forward to many long winters by her husband's side.

1This story is based loosely on my great-grandfather, who really did run away from his uncle in order to find his (mail order bride) mother in Oregon.

2Baker City, OR is a wonderful historic town with a restored railroad that used to haul timber between Salt Lake City and Portland, OR, starting in 1884 (the Oregon Short Line Railroad, Wikipedia.org) . To my knowledge, there never was a stockyard there, but cattle are common local livestock.