Sheep herding camp adventures

Foreword: This story has been pieced together from tidbits of memories shared by my dad and his sister, my aunt. They came from a poor family of 15 children two of which died as babies. The family attempted a homestead in the Pavillion Wyoming area and Moved to the Barquin Mine when that failed. The barquin mine was on the Barquin Ranch Near Pavillion Wyoming. The ranch ranged sheep from the vast windriver mountain range from Dubois to Lander and to the owl creeks near thermopolis. The ranch was near five mile creek but the sheep ranged all across the reservation. These are the stories of growing up in the sage of Wyoming that My dad told of often.


The children walked up from the creek towards their family’s shanty on the hill near the mine. Jim walked behind Beverly, each of them carrying a water bucket. Jim heard Ma in the distance through the walls of the meager cabin scolding the little ones ordering them out of doors. As they topped the ridge the sun beat down on their heads heating through their hair. The water was heavy and Jim was concentrating on the weight but he noticed a movement ahead.
“Beverly, wait!” he shouted racing ahead. He threw his bucket hard at the figure squirming in the dirt. The water splashed and the bucket thunked on the rock as it smashed the small snake that was slithering down the path towards them. “Baby rattle snake’” he said “ keep an eye out where there is one that small there is often more.”
Beverly froze in place staring at the little snake that was smashed on the rock nearby.
“It’s ok Bev. Let me go ahead of you to the house then I can go back and refill my bucket for ma.”
The children made their way to the house where Beverly poured her bucket into the kettle in the yard suspended over the fire. They needed much more water to get the laundry washed.
As Jim raced back to the creek with two buckets he could see the camp tender wagon coming their way. Da would be done in the mine soon and the family would have a meager meal of bread and gravy. Tonight would be a feast as ma had hamburger to make the gravy this time. As Jim topped the hill from the creek he could see that the wagon had stopped near his family’s hovel and Da had come home. The men were standing outside the doors talking when Jim struggled up to the boiling pot. As he poured the water he overheard his dad making arrangements for the kids to help with ranch work.
“Bud is helping the wranglers this weekend, he can’t go. They have to get those colts ready for the auction next week. Bernice is needed here to help with the children.” Dad said to the camp tender.
“We need three for the weekend. Maybe an extra for the wool picking. It would be just to stay in the wagon and make sure the sheep are ok. These kids know enough about the sheep to do the job for a couple days. You have enough of them they will have to do. The boss was clear, there is no one else available.” The tender shifted as he waited.
“Jim will be ok and Beverly would probably do but that is all. I am not sure William is ready for an entire weekend on his own.” Da said absently as Bill walked out of the house.
“Billy will be just fine, won’t ya lad?” The camp tender said, “The boss will not be happy if we don’t have three. And which of the others will ya send for the picking?”
“Maxine could probably pick wool ok,” Pa said reluctantly.
“Alright, have them ready in the morning. It is a couple hours out for the picking and several more to the sheep camps we will be gone all day,” the tender said as he turned and briskly walked to his wagon.
Pa called his children to the house for supper and told them of the Boss’s orders. Ma wasn’t happy but they all knew there was nothing they could do about it. The boss had to be happy for them to have a place on the ranch and mine.

They could see the sheep dotting the rolling hills as the wagon they rode in bumped across the prairie. The view should have been a pleasant one but the thought of the task they were set to do made Beverly fill with dread at the sight. The warmth of the summer sun blazed through the threadbare cotton dress that her mamma had made last year. The buckboard wagon rolled, jostled and bumped beneath them. It wasn't the first time Beverly had been chosen for a wool picking party as the boss called it. There were four of them this time. Bill, Jim, Maxine, and Beverly were to pick the valuable wool off the two sheep that coyotes had killed recently. It was a job none of them wanted to do but the beating they knew they would get for refusing would be far worse than the disgusting job in front of them.
As the wagon approached the wool strewn about the sage was evident as was the smell of the decaying carcases. Beverly had heard them say the price of wool was high and the boss was set on retrieving every bit of it. The kids of their large family were a free way to get the work done as mama was busy with the babies and daddy was busy working all day in the mine. They were free to be chosen at his will for whatever he needed done or their family could be expected to vacate the little shanty they were given to live in.
“Here we are kids, make it fast. I will be back to get you as soon as I drop the new herder and supplies off at the wagon!”, the camp tender said in broken English, as he came to a stop.This particular camp tender was the boss's cousin from Spain. He had arrived last winter and was as mean as the boss himself. All four of them jumped out of the wagon with their gunny sacks in hand. Beverly started picking the wool out of the sage knowing she would get less but hoping the others would clear the wool around the carcasses before she was through. She could hear Maxine and Bill bickering but she tried not to listen. Maxine, who at 4 had never been asked to pick up the wool from a dead sheep before, shrieked and complained constantly. Beverly knew the heat would have the wool squirming with maggots and could see the image plainly in her mind from the last time she had been chosen to do this task.
“Bev come help us,” Jim called out over the sage.
“I am getting the bits that have blown around. You know we have to get this too!” she said holding up a handful of wool she had picked from a sagebrush. Beverly bent down picking up a chunk off of the lower part of the bush and let his protests go over her head as she continued on. Soon Bill, Jim and Maxine joined Beverly picking the stray bits of wool from the brush around the carnage. Beverly could smell the decay as the others skirted her and was glad she had avoided the worst of it. Soon there wasn’t much visible wool left to gather and they set their bags down waiting for the ranch hand to return to gather them up. Jim, Bill and Beverly were to spend a weekend out on the range tending sheep. Each of them would be set to a new camp in place of the sheepherder while Maxine would return to the homestead. They frollicked among the sage well away from the bags of wool and the carcasses but the smell lingered as they played at a game of tag. The wagon could be heard over the ridge before it could be seen and the children righted themselves to stand dutifully next to their hard won prize. Soon the jangel of the harnesses and the rattle of the wagon came into view. They all stood waiting, sacks in hand.
“Get in we got a lot of ground to cover,” the driver barked. All of them scrambled into the bed of the wagon and soon it was rumbling along towards the first drop off. The sheepherders wanted some down time in town as it was payday so the kids were assigned to take their place for the weekend. Bill was the first to be left alone at the sheep camp. His little six year old self trembled with fright as the horse's reins were handed to him. The sheepherder told him that there shouldn’t be much to it. He told Bill where the food was and gave him a whole jar of peanut butter. He explained that he had to ride the saddle horse out to check the herd and keep an eye on them until he returned. Bill stood trying to be brave, listening closely.
“Just keep an ear out for the predators at night and bang the pans together to make noise and the buggers will just run off,” The young man said, “I’ll be back before you know it!”
He finished his instructions to the trembling boy leaving him standing rigid with fright holding the horse and seated himself on the seat next to the camp tender. They began to chat about all the gossip in town. Their conversation sometimes changed to Spanish and the children didn’t understand them much. Beverly watched as they left little Bill standing next to the sheep wagon holding the reins of a saddle horse with the herding dog sitting dutifully next to him. He stood stoically silent with tears streaming down his face and shook violently with his effort to contain his sobs. As they topped the ridge Beverly watched him with fear in his eyes sobbing and turning to hug the dog as they dipped out of sight over the ridge. Beverly watched in horror as he dissolved into racking sobs before the wagon lost sight of the camp. Beverly hated the men of the Barquin ranch, all of them, as the frequent beatings and constant degrading comments that had come her way since she could remember sounded loudly in her heart and mind. The sight of her little brother being abandoned at a sheep camp made her heart harden even more towards them. The hate boiled like a freshly made stew but she did not dare let it show.

As they pulled up to the camp where Jim was to be left Beverly watched intently as the herder came out of the wagon. Jim was older than Bll and had been left at these camps before. He was not as frightened as Bill but he was silent and didn’t say much. Although he didn’t cry she could see the fear in his eyes at being left alone. Jim would never admit it but he was scared too. They rolled away to Jim climbing in the saddle of the riding horse and heading towards the sheep on the hillside nearby.

At last they arrived at the camp where Beverly was to be the sheepherder for the weekend. It didn't matter that Beverly was a girl, she could ride and look after the sheep. The children spent many days helping the boss with the sheep. But Beverly did not like being left out in the prairies miles away from the ranch with only a dog and a horse for company. This tender had a few livestock guard dogs with the herd as well as several herding dogs and she had to take care of feeding them too. Beverly was excited about this as she loved dogs.
“Pearl is going to whelp a litter soon. Don’t bother her if she does, she’s kinda protective” he said as he was wrapping up his instructions to her. As the Camp Tender wagon rattled away back towards the ranch with all the sheepherders bound for fun in town, the three children were left to do their jobs. Maxine peeked over the edge of the wagon as it topped the hill. Beverly hoped this time they would get some change for the job. Sometimes the Tenders would throw them some but sometimes they just had to do it. Beverly was just happy to be away from the stench of the wool bags.

As the warm wind rattled the sheepherder's wagon the darkness settled in Beverly’s bones. She huddled under the light blanket and tried to sleep. The sheep could be heard near the wagon. Their contented moans evidenced their full bellies as they bedded down chewing their cud. Occasionally a mother could be heard calling to a wayward lamb that would answer in return through the night air. The night was long but she managed to doze a little and woke early in the morning, saddled the riding horse and set out to check the ranging sheep.
Beverly came up over a hill and noticed a ewe looking down into a ravine and calling down. Her cries echoed through the ravine and a very young lamb’s cry could be heard in return. She rode up to where the ewe stood and looked down the steep gully where a very young lamb stood crying loudly. Looking up and down the ravine she knew she would have to go to another part of the wash to get to his little lamb as the crumbly sides were far above her head here. She rode up the wash where the sides just got narrower and deeper so she turned around and went down the wash. It seemed that there was a good place to climb down so she jumped off of the horse and tied her to the tallest sagebrush she could find. Descending Into the depths of the dry crumbly wash she was able to walk to the small lamb and pick it up. It bleated shrilly as she carried it to a back down the wash. The mother could be heard above calling frantically to the frightened little lamb. Beverly found a good place in the ravine where she could reach up and safely place the lamb on the bank near its mother. The lamb swiftly ran after its mother to catch up to the herd just over the hill. As she prepared to climb out of the ravine she heard a muffled noise and she froze in place listening for it again.
Beverly turned back into the shaded depths of the earth to seek the source where she discovered a litter of newly born puppies. They were white with dark patches on their ears and they wiggled and squirmed while they whined trying to get their first meal. The scent of the recent birth hung in the air and mixed with the scent of the deep earthy smell of the ravine. The big white dog mothering the litter growled at Beverly as she approached and she wondered how she had not noticed her before. Beverly left her there to protect her babies and climbed back up to her horse in the hot July sun. As she rode on towards the herd she thought about the fourth of July fireworks the Boss had shot off at the ranch the weekend before and wondered if any of the sheepherders had been able to see them from the camps. She rode around the herd and made her way through the pungent sage back to the wagon where she made herself some oatmeal. She found a few chunks of dry brown sugar and plopped that in her cup over the smoldering embers. The children never got sugar of any kind at home and she was excited at making her own breakfast.
The oats were warm and creamy with just the right amount of sweetness to them. At 8 years old she had helped ma cook breakfast many times and it made her wonder how the boys were doing out in the brush on their own; especially Bill.

Across the prairie 6 year old Bill had managed to get past the racking sobs after a while and got up on the saddled horse to ride out into the prairies. Riding the horse calmed him and made him feel better. After checking the herd he galloped around the sage feeling the wind blow around him. By the time he got back to the wagon he was calmed down enough to be hungry again. Bill made himself a peanut butter and Jelly sandwich making sure to wipe up the mess on the tiny counter in the wagon. He enjoyed it immensely, thankful that he had something to fill his belly. Bill loved peanut butter and he rarely got any at home. As the night came on he crawled into the wagon with the dog and curled up trembling with fear as the night sounds could be heard all around him.
Bill had dozed off and was suddenly woken up by a muffled noise outside the wagon.The Dog had a low rumbling growl building deep in her throat and Bill grabbed the large wood club he had found the day before clutching it tightly. He remembered the herders instructions and grabbed two pots banging them together screaming at the top of his lungs. Whatever was outside lumbered away and Bill curled up on the sleeping platform clutching the club with the dog at his feet and cried himself back to sleep.
In the morning Bill woke up and exited into a cool crisp morning that was slowly warming. To his surprise he found large bear tracks in the dirt around the sheepherder's wagon. He stood studying the tracks and was glad he had remained in the wagon instead of being brave and trying to go after the predator with his club. His fire was almost out so he added some dry wood and waited for it to start again. He poured his oatmeal into his cup and decided to add milk and eat it raw instead of cooking it. With a touch of sugar he determined that it tasted amazing.
He saddled the horse with a lot of effort as it kept stepping away from his stool and he was not tall enough to get the saddle up on its back without the extra height. Finally he tied the horse to the wagon, made him step over until one side was against the wagon and he was able to get the saddle on by climbing on the stool. The horse was not able to step away as the wagon kept him still.
After saddling the horse Bill rode out to check the herd, afraid that the bear had eaten the flock in the night. He was relieved to find them grazing peacefully along a nearby ridge. The herding dog jogged along by his side and perked up when he saw the sheep.
“Leave it,” Bill said to the dog who then relaxed as they sat watching the vast herd of sheep graze. He sat on his horse for sometime just watching the sheep graze when all of the sudden quick movement caught his eye on the ground. He looked and saw a blue bellied lizard sitting on a rock looking at him. He jumped down from the horse and looped the reins around a sagebrush. When he got to the rock where the lizard had been, it was gone. He lifted the rock and the small lythe creature darted out and hid among a small sagebrush nearby. Bill carefully stalked up to the bush keeping an eye on the lizard at all times. His little hand darted into the gray branches and grasped the squirming reptile holding him firmly and talking soothingly to it. Bill looked up from the lizard to see the hoof of a small animal that had been stripped away from its owner. Bill stood holding the squirming lizard unsure of what he should do. His makeshift club was in his saddlebag so he tucked the little lizard in his shirt pocket, snapped it shut and retrieved the club from the saddle bag. Moving closer to the bloody appendage he looked around for more clues. He picked up the fuzzy leg by the hairy part and inspected it. The hoof still had the soft spongy protective coating that all newborn lambs had. He knew this was from a lamb that was just born as the pad would be hard if it had walked around. The fuzzy shank above the hoof was white dotted with little black spots so it was probably one of the speckled face ewes who had lost it. He walked on carrying the club in one hand and the small fuzzy leg with the bloody stump in the other. He found another bit of what looked like a piece of the hide hanging from a low sagebrush. Continuing on he found a set of coyote prints in the soft sandy soil. Just as he bent to inspect the pawprints he caught sight of the remains of the small lamb through the brush. He pushed his way through the wall of sagebrush ahead of him and stepped out to the sight of a mother coyote and her babies frollicking outside their den. Immediately the mother sounded a warning and her pups scampered back into the hole while she began to growl and approach the young boy. Bill froze for just a minute but as the mother Coyote lunged at him he brought the club up blocking her from biting his face. She scratched his arm as she snarled and lunged again grabbing his sleeve dragging him towards the den. As he fell forward the lizard escaped his snapped pocket out the crack in the side. He brought his club down hard on the coyote’s head causing her to let go. He quickly scrambled away through the brush. Away from the coyote and her pups back to his horse where he climbed up on top the horse using all his might to pull himself up into the saddle. Bill would make sure to tell the herder about this den and he looked around for a way to describe the location. There was a piling stone next to the ravine marking a steep slope to the west. He would remember that to tell the herder. He rode quickly towards the herd of sheep and noticed a young ewe with a new lamb that matched the one that the coyote had feasted on. The sheep herded had been wrong, the ewes were not done lambing after all. The rest of the herd seem to be contently grazing and Bill figured the coyote would be satisfied for a while at least.
Back at the wagon Bill shuffled around for something to eat for the evening meal. He had scooped a few spoonfuls of peanut butter for his lunch and was pretty hungry. As he riffled through the cupboards he found a lot of cans. He couldn't read and the labels all looked the same so he didn’t bother with the cans. Coming across a bag of potatoes he took a large firm spud and went to sit near the fire. He peeled one end and held the other salting the peeled end and taking generous bites out of the firm vegetable. The salty, juicy crunch was different but very good. As he munched on the raw potato the fire crackled to life. The sun set and Bill climbed into the wagon with the herding dog and fell into a deep exhausted sleep.

Jim was at home on the prairie at 7 years old. He had been sent out to these sheep camps several times and relished in the freedom that his younger sibling didn’t yet understand. His night was leisurely riding out to check the herd and weaving among the sage around them he enjoyed the warm breeze that blew across the vast prairie. He looked towards the mountains knowing that there was a herd of sheep just at the edge of the mountains being directed in their grazing towards the ranch. He knew that the sheep drive to thermopolis was just a few short months away. All the older lambs and ewes that had outlived their prime production would be driven to the train depot at the other side of the owl creeks. Jim longed to be part of this adventure which would take several days.
As Jim lay in the wagon that gently rocked with a gust of wind from time to time he thought about the sheep that were ranging across the vast prairie. He longed to be on his horse riding the prairie trailing a herd of sheep to the ranch. He fell asleep and dreamed of the many sheep camps that would be brought in. The sheep would be sorted and the lambs weaned that were old enough to sell. He dreamed of the hustle and bustle of shearing and sorting time that he loved. He awoke to the early morning peacefulness of life on the prairie and he was eager to get out to check the herd. He was most at home on a horse, any horse.
As he rounded the herd he looked towards the Owl creeks and he could make out distant dots on the far hills. The creamy shapes moved slowly and it was the only reason that they could be seen at this great distance. The sheep camp closest to the mountains to the north would have to drive their herd all the way across the prairie for sorting then back to where they came from and beyond the mountains to thermopolis. He watched them milling at the base of the bighorns as he rode towards the mountains day dreaming of riding up the distant slopes of Mexican Pass into the cool mountain air.
As he approached the wagon the dog began a growl low in his throat and froze in Place. Immediately Jim was brought out of his daydream and he stopped his horse glancing around. His eyes caught sight of a diamond shaped head atop a coil of long sinewy body. The rattle that sounded should have caught his attention before the growl of the dog, he would have to be more careful. The rock the snake was sitting on was about 100 yards from the wagon. Jim turned his horse away from the coiled snake and called the dog to him. He rode far wide of the danger reaching the camp wagon and tied the horse securely. He put the dog in the wagon, closed the door and grabbed the shovel.
Stealthily moving through the sagebrush Jim made his way to the rock where the snake had settled once again to bask in the sun. Moving one careful light step at a time he held his shovel raised in readiness to strike should another danger appear. As he approached the rock he could see the snake relaxing in the sun. He knew he would have one chance to kill this viper and he dare not miss. The shovel came down with a thunk on the rock severing the diamond shaped head. Jim let out a whoop holding the shovel over his head and spinning in delight and triumph. He took the shovel and dug a hole carefully placing the venom filled head in it and covering it up. He picked up the large body to carry it back to the wagon. He would have roasted rattlesnake for dinner and he could stretch the skin to dry. The bony donut-like segments of the tail rattled as it banged against his leg while he walked. When he got back to the wagon he set about skinning the large snake with his pocket knife. When he got to the tail he counted 8 segments. “This snake had seen some life,” he said to the dog who had come to lay in the shade behind him.
As the spitted snake sizzled on the open flames Jim worked to stretch the skin on a log nearby to dry. He found a stash of salt in the wagon and generously rubbed into the skin and used a rock to pound four nails he found into the skin. He would have to keep the edges from rolling up as it dried so he placed rocks he found on the edges to hold it flat.
When he woke the next morning the snake skin was still damp so he left it to be further dried by the sun until he heard the jingle of the approaching wagon. He quickly gathered up his skin and got ready for the journey home.


All three children were grateful when the Camp Tenders wagon rolled up the following day to take them back to the ranch. They brought supplies to replenish the wagon stores and the herders were generous with their change. Each child had dimes nickels and pennies to show each other. Beverly watched from the wagon when they rolled up to the camp where Bill stood holding the large club. When he told the tale the Camp tender and the herder laughed at him, sure he must be imagining things. But Bill drew the tracks that were still slightly visible in the soft dirt and Pointed to the stone Pillar to the south of the wagon intent on being heard. The two men looked at each other with wide eyes. Bears were uncommon down this low; it wasn't unheard of and coyotes certainly would attack to protect their young.
On the way back to the ranch Jim and Bill chattered wildly about their adventures. Jim was very proud of his snakeskin and eagerly showed off the large rattles. Beverly sat quietly listening and feeling the wagon bump and shift as it rolled over the sage towards the ranch. They showed each other their change and talked about the things they wanted to buy with it. The Mine was just to the north of the main ranch buildings and Beverly was thankful when the wagon came to a stop and all three children jumped down and raced for the rundown shack they called home.