The Boy Land Boomer Part 1

The Boy Land Boomer.

by Ralph Bonehill.

PREFACE.

"The Boy Land Boomer" relates the adventures of a lad who, with his father, joins a number of daring men in an attempt to occupy the rich farming lands of Oklahoma before the time when that section of our country was thrown open to settlement under the homestead act.

Oklahoma consists of a tract of land which formerly formed a portion of the Indian Territory. This region was much in dispute as early as 1884 and 1885, when Captain "Oklahoma" Payne and Captain Couch did their best to force an entrance for the boomers under them. Boomers remained in the neighborhood for years, and another attempt was made to settle Oklahoma in 1886, and up to 1889, when, on April 22, the land was thrown open to settlement by a proclamation of the President. The mad rush to gain the best claims followed, and some of these scenes are related in the present volume.

The boomers, who numbered thousands, had among them several daring and well-known leaders, but not one was better known or more daring than the leader who is known in these pages as p.a.w.nee Brown. This man was not alone a great Indian scout and hunter, but also one who had lived much among the Indians, could speak their language, and who had on several occasions acted as interpreter for the Government. He was well beloved by his followers, who relied upon his judgment in all things.

To some it may seem that the scenes in this book are overdrawn. Such, however, is not the fact. There was much of roughness in those days, and the author has continually found it necessary to tone down rather than to exaggerate in penning these scenes from real life.

CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL.

THE BOY LAND BOOMER.

CHAPTER I.

d.i.c.k ARBUCKLE'S DISCOVERY.

"Father!"

The call came from a boy of sixteen, a bright, manly chap, who had just awakened from an unusually sound sleep in the rear end of a monstrous boomer's wagon.

The scene was upon the outskirts of Arkansas City, situated near the southern boundary line of Kansas and not many miles from the Oklahoma portion of the Indian Territory.

For weeks the city had been filling up with boomers on their way to pre-empt land within the confines of Oklahoma as soon as it became possible to do so.

The land in Oklahoma had for years been in dispute. Pioneers claimed the right to go in and stake out homesteads, but the soldiers of our government would not allow them to do so.

The secret of the matter was that the cattle kings of that section controlled everything, and as the grazing land of the territory was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars to them they fought desperately to keep the pioneers out, delaying, in every manner possible, legislation which tended to make the section an absolutely free one to would-be settlers.

But now the pioneers, or boomers as they were commonly called, were tired of waiting for the pa.s.sage of a law which they knew must come sooner or later, and they intended to go ahead without legal authority.

It was a dark, tempestuous night, with the wind blowing fiercely and the rain coming down at irregular intervals. On the gra.s.sy plain were huddled the wagons, animals and trappings of over two hundred boomers.

Here and there flared up the remains of a campfire, but the wind was blowing too strongly for these to be replenished, and the men had followed their wives and children into the big, canvas-covered wagons, to make themselves as comfortable as the crowded s.p.a.ce permitted.

It was the rattle of the rain on the canvas covering of the wagon which had aroused the boy.

"I say father!" he repeated. "Father!"

Again there was no reply, and, kicking aside the blanket with which he had been covered, d.i.c.k Arbuckle clambered over some boxes piled high in the center of the vehicle to where he had left his parent resting less than three hours before.

"Gone!" cried the lad in astonishment. "What can this mean? What could take him outside in such a storm as this? Father!"

He now crawled to the opening at the front of the wagon and called at the top of his voice. Only the shrieking of the wind answered him. A dozen times he cried out, then paused to strike a somewhat damp match and light a smoky lantern hanging to the front ashen bow of the turn-out's covering. Holding the light over his head he peered forth into the inky darkness surrounding the boomer's temporary camp.

"Not a soul in sight," he mused. "It must be about midnight. Can something have happened to father? He said he felt rather strange in his head when he went to bed. If only Jack Rasco would come back."

From the front end of the wagon d.i.c.k Arbuckle s.h.i.+fted back to the rear.

Here the same dreary outlook of storm, mud and flapping canvases presented itself. Not so much as a stray dog was in sight, and the nearest wagon was twenty feet away.

"I must find out where he is. Something is wrong, I feel certain of it."

Thus muttering to himself the youth hunted up his overcoat and hat, put them on, and, lantern in hand, swung himself into the sea of half-submerged prairie gra.s.s, and stalked over to the other wagon just mentioned.

"Mike Delaney!" he cried, kicking on the wagon wheel with the toe of his boot; "Mike Delaney, have you seen my father anywhere?"

"Sure, an' Moike Delaney is not here, d.i.c.k Arbuckle," came in a female voice. "He's gone off wid p.a.w.nee Brown, and there's no tellin' whin he'll be back. Is yer father gone?"

"Yes, and I don't know where," and now d.i.c.k stepped closer, as the round and freckled face of Rosy Delaney peered forth from a hole in the canvas end. "He went to bed when I did, and now he's missing."

"Saints preserve us! Mebbe the Injuns scalped him now, d.i.c.k!" came in a voice full of terror.

"There are no Indians around here, Mrs. Delaney," answered the youth, half inclined to laugh. "But he's missing, and it's mighty strange, to say the least."

"He was sick, too, wasn't he?"

"Father hasn't been real well for a year. He left New York very largely in the hope that this climate would do him some good."

"Moike was sayin' his head throubles him a good bit."

"So it does, and that's why I am so worried. When he gets those awful pains he is apt to walk away and keep right on without knowing where he is going."

"Poor mon! Oi wisht Oi could help yez. Mebbe Moike will be back soon.

Ain't Jack Rasco about?"

"No, he is off with p.a.w.nee Brown, too. Rasco and Brown have been looking over the trails leading to Oklahoma. They are bound to outwit the United States cavalry, for the boomers have more right to that land than the cattle kings, and right is always might in the end."

"Especially wid p.a.w.nee on the end o' it, d.i.c.k. He's a great mon, is p.a.w.nee, only it do be afther givin' me the s.h.i.+vers to hear him spake the p.a.w.nee language loike he was a rale Injun. Such a foine scout as he is has no roight to spake such a dirthy tongue. How illegant it would be now if he could spake rale Oirish."

"His knowledge of the Indian tongue has helped both him and our government a good deal, Mrs. Delaney. But I mustn't stop here talking.

If my father----"

A wild, unearthly shriek cut short further talk upon d.i.c.k Arbuckle's part. It came from the darkness back of the camp and caused Mrs. Delaney to draw back and tumble to the bottom of her house on wheels in terror.

"It's the Banshee----" she began, when d.i.c.k interrupted her.

"It's Pumpkin Bill. I'd know his voice a mile off," he declared.

"Somebody ought to send him back to where he belongs. Creation, what a racket!"