THE WILD STEER

Daddy came in the night before
hot, dirty, vile-tempered
after two-weeks gathering cattle
down 'Below' - Circle Cliff area.
He didn't speak.
My girlfriend and I
scurried out of his way.

Morning, he yelled upstairs:
"Girls, come'on.
Get the horses.
I'll take you to The Gulch.
I want you to bring in
the cattle gathered there."

He jumped the horses
into the powewagon,
instructed us all the way,
backed them off on a bank.

"Go down The Gulch
until you find them, and
DON'T LOSE ANY COWS
so I have to go back and look for them.
Follow the canyon
and take them up the trail."

"What trail?"

"The cattle trail to Deer Creek.
Christ! Don't be stupid.
The cows know where to go..."
I'm supposed to let the COWS
find the trail?

The Gulch,
a deep, twisting canyon,
sandstone wall rising
to blank out the sun,
corralled them.

Old cows and steers scrambled
to their feet and began to
move, lowing.
Out from the bushes
came a huge, wild steer.
Its horns long and sharp,
a wild, crazy look in its eye.
It was a wild one that had
been chased for years.

He can't mean
I've got to bring
THAT STEER home.
Impossible!

It took off up the canyon,
running crazily over bush and tree.
"Bring the others." I shouted.
Whirling, I raced after it
on a dead run.
Up the canyon. Turn.
Down the canyon. Turn.
Up. Down.

Maurine, trailing cattle
missed the trail
dragging them all after me.
I whirled back.
"Chase this one." I screamed.

She took off
on a dead run
leaving me to find
the lost trail with a herd
of thirsty cattle.
One of the old cows
remembered the trail
and headed home.
I followed, pushing the herd.

We traded. I ran the wild steer
then she did for what seemed
like hours.
The cow herd moved slowly,
munching on grass.

FINALLY
The Wild Steer suddenly
turned up the trail
and pushed into the herd
his back a foot higher
than the rest.

"It's a wonder I'm not dead!"
Maurine groaned.

We moved the herd
on toward Deer Creek
as it was turning dark,
only half way home.

The cattle were trying to lay down.
"Well, at least we've run
that monster to death.
He's acting like the rest."

Headlight!
"Oh no," I groaned.
"It's Daddy. We should
have been home hours ago
and we're barely to
Deer Creek."

"Where in hell have you been?"

"We've been chasing that steer
for hours. Up and down.
Up and down. He wouldn't come."

He stared at it, astonished.
"My Gawd, we cowboys have been
chasing that steer in the Gulch
for eight or nine years,
and a couple of snot-nose girls
brings it in."
He shook his head in wonder.
"I can't believe it.
Why in hell didn't you leave it
and get along home before dark?"

"You told us not to lose a cow."

After being on exhibit
at the corral,
the steer was killed.
The head stuffed.
My dad carried it wherever
he went, wherever he moved
until the day he died.

He bragged about his girl
bringing in The Wild Steer.
I was not proud.
That wonderful steer
no longer ran free.
My fault.
All I had to do
was let it go.