King's Business - 1960-08

Johnnie Ran Away

by Leonard Eilers

father may come home tonight. If he does, and if it’s nice tomorrow and you still want to go, you may.” Of course Johnnie was disappointed. What great harm could come of his riding over to see Buddy and then coming right back? With that thought in mind he got on his pony, Brownie, and rode to the far end of the pasture where their cattle were kept. Later in the day he would have to go there anyway to bring in the milk cows. He reasoned that until that time came, he would just fool around, away from everybody, feeling sorry for himself. What a pleasant surprise it was when he saw Buddy coming his way at full gallop! To go to meet him, Johnnie dashed up to the gate, opened it and rushed on. He thought he’d be back in a few minutes to close the gate, and since the cattle were nowhere near, the delay wouldn’t matter. “Hi, hi, Buddy,” he yelled. “ Are you coming over to my place?” “No,” Buddy answered, “ I’m sorry, but I can’t.” “ Can’t! Why not?” Johnnie was disappointed. “ Because I’m out looking for a couple of our horses that got away. I thought maybe you’d ride with me over to Red Buttes. I think they’ve gone there.” Johnnie promptly forgot about the open gate and about his mother’s words. The idea of going with Buddy appealed to him— so away the two of them rode, carefree and happy. About two hours later, and several miles away from home, Johnnie realized that it was beginning to get dark. A wind had come up and snow was falling. Suddenly he remembered the open gate! With a short good-by to Buddy, he headed for home. By the time he reached the gate, the wind was blowing hard and snow filled the air. To make things worse, he saw some of the cows outside the gate and drifting with the oncoming storm. When he tried to turn them back, they only ran away from him. Now he was really panicky and very much afraid. What should he do? He couldn’t go home, he thought. What excuse could he possibly give for leaving the gate

O n t h e Rosebud Indian Reservation in South Dakota, one winter long ago, the Sioux Indians were living on the part of the land assigned to them by the Govern­ ment, and on other parts of the land there were home­ steaders. The coming of those early pioneers, who were seeking places to establish homes, made it necessary for cattle ranchers to move their stock where the range was still free. My friend, rancher Bill Manley, sent word for me to come and help him round up his cattle and move them to a place he had bought in Wyoming. This I was glad to do. Among others who helped him was John Lander. John had his homestead all fenced and had a nice group of buildings and corrals neatly arranged along the bank of Thunder Creek. He also had a wife and three children, the oldest of whom was Johnnie, the only boy. Although he was only eleven at the time, he was quite a help around the place, especially when his father was away working for someone else. This time the father was going to help Bill Manley. Before he left, he told Johnnie what chores he would be responsible for, and mentioned to him particularly that he was to see that all the gates were kept closed, otherwise their few head of cattle might get out. Johnnie and his father were close pals and whenever possible they were together. Nothing would have pleased the boy more than if he could have gone with his father to round up the Manley cattle. But he knew his place was at home to help there. In a way it made him feel proud to have the responsibility of looking after things. About three miles from the Lander’s, there lived a family named Boggs. They had a boy, Buddy, who was a little older than Johnnie, and the two were good friends. With his father away, Johnnie got lonesome for his pal and decided to go to see him. He talked to his mother about this, but she didn’t think it was a good idea. “While your father is away, I need you to be on hand,” she explained. “ And it looks stormy. I just can’t have you take any chances of getting caught in a blizzard. Anyway,” she added with the idea of consoling, “ your

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