Part 33 (1/2)

”Just keep them moving,” he cried to Kalman. ”I will need to go to the house a meenit.”

”All right. Don't hurry for me,” said Kalman, proud of his new responsibility and delighted with his new achievement.

”Keep them straight, mind. And watch your turning,” warned Mackenzie. ”I will be coming back soon.”

In less than half an hour he returned in a most gracious frame of mind.

”Man, but you are the smart lad,” he said as Kalman swung his team around. ”You will be making a great rancher, Tommy.”

”My name is Kalman.”

”Well, well, Callum. It iss a fery good name, whatefer.”

”Kalman!” shouted the boy.

Mackenzie nodded grave rebuke.

”There is no occasion for shouting. I am not deef, Callum, my boy.

Go on. Go on with your harrows,” he continued as Kalman began to remonstrate.

Kalman drew near and regarded him narrowly. The truth was clear to his experienced eyes.

”You're drunk,” he exclaimed disgustedly.

”Hoot, toot! Callum man,” said Mackenzie in tones of grieved remonstrance, ”how would you be saying that now? Come away, or I will be taking the team myself.”

”Aw, go on!” replied Kalman contemptuously. ”Let me alone!”

”Good boy,” said Mackenzie with a paternal smile, waving the boy on his way while he betook himself to the bluff side and there supine, continued at intervals to direct the operation of harrowing.

The sun grew hot. The cool morning breeze dropped flat, and as the hours pa.s.sed the boy grew weary and footsore, travelling the soft furrows. Mackenzie had long ceased issuing his directions, and had subsided into smiling silence, contenting himself with a friendly wave of the hand as Kalman made the turn. The poor spiritless horses moved more and more slowly, and at length, coming to the end of the field, refused to move farther.

”Let them stand a bit, Callum boy,” said Mackenzie kindly.

”Come and have a rest. You are the fine driver. Come and sit down.”

”Will the horses stand here?” asked Kalman, whose sense of responsibility deepened as he became aware of Mackenzie's growing incapacity.

Mackenzie laughed pleasantly. ”Will they stand? Yes, and that they will, unless they will lie down.”

Kalman approached and regarded him with the eye of an expert.

”Look here, where's your stuff?” said the boy at length.

Mackenzie gazed at him with the innocence of childhood.

”What iss it?”

”Oh, come off your perch! you blamed old rooster! Where's your bottle?”

”What iss this?” said Mackenzie, much affronted. ”You will be calling me names?”

As he rose in his indignation a bottle fell from his pocket. Kalman made a dash toward it, but Mackenzie was too quick for him. With a savage curse he s.n.a.t.c.hed up the bottle, and at the same time made a fierce but unsuccessful lunge at the boy.