BLUE

Historical namesake?

BLUE

Land Steward

By Stephen L. Wilmeth

             In the diaries of Mary Belle Shelley Rice, references to her second son, Rolland Shelley Rice, are numerous. She described his life on the Rice Ranch where he was born, lived and died. There isn’t a single written explanation, though, tying that name to how people knew him. Similarly in the Shelley book, there is only a single reference to Rolland Shelley Rice. There are 14 references, but not one of them explains to the reader that Rolland S. Rice was universally known as … Blue.

            BLUE 

            “Blue came by and changed the water on the Joe Bell field.”

            “Blue and Minnie came and brought a load of wood. Blue loaded nine sacks of oats to take to Sacaton.”

            “Blue brought Rolland down and went over and got a load of hygear.”

            “Blue came to talk to Joe about shipping cattle.”

            In a 1950 entry, she described how Blue came by and a group was playing canasta. Blue sat down and played a single game with them. “Blue’s 1^st I think,” she wrote. He would have been 46 years if that was the case.

            “Blue came by on their way to Silver with a load of old cows and bulls.”

            “Blue and Little Joe worked in my bathroom.”

            “Blue shelled corn for me.”

            “Blue brought a load of calves to put in the oats.”

            The entries describe constant motion and attention to business. As such, outsiders might suspect his life being dreary or unfulfilling, but that is simply not true. It was anything but commonplace or dismal. I knew him well enough to replace the written words with memories of his big voice, his propensity to mix discussion with laughter, and those dancing eyes that penetrated everything.

            Yes, they were blue.

            If there is a first memory of him, it would probably be at the granary at the Rice headquarters where Mary Belle and Lee Rice lived for over a half century. I was there with two of the three Rice brothers, Blue and my maternal grandfather, Carl.

            I was just tottering around while they loaded a truck backed up to an open door. They were together slinging sacked oats into its bed. I can remember being told to stay out of the way, but, in the ways of the child I was, I got too close to the door and a 90 pound sack of oats swept me out the open door and into the truck.

            “That’ll teach you,” one of them shouted as the other laughed at my predicament.

“We told you to stay out of the way.”

            The theory

            The word “monkeying” is a clue.

            As Rice grandchildren, we heard it used frequently. “You keep monkeying around like that and you’re going to wind up hurt” or “you keep monkeying around and you’re going to get spanked” were commonplace.

            When I found the use of that word by legendary cattleman Charles Goodnight when he was crossing a herd on the Arkansas and confronted by 15-20 riders who were intent on prohibiting him from doing so, it got my attention. Goodnight never stopped. He placed his men strategically and told them to point the cattle in behind him as he started across. On the pommel of his saddle lay his shotgun loaded with buckshot. He rode right up to them.

 “I’ve monkeyed as long as I want to with you sons-of-bitches,” he said.

They immediately fell back and dispersed. Blue’s father, Lee Rice, was not with Goodnight on that day, but would soon become one of the cowman’s trusted riders who agreed to “no gambling, no drinking, and no fighting!”

Lee would have seen the 50 structures Goodnight built at Palo Duro ranch headquarters, the famous JA. He was with Mr. Goodnight on trips up the Palo Duro-Dodge City Trail from 1880 until Goodnight left the JA late in 1887. He would have also been influenced by the original 60 head of JA Hereford bulls, and he would have been intimately acquainted with the famous lead steer that served as the ranch’s point master for almost 20 years.

The story of the steer was chronicled by J. Frank Dobie as well as J. Evetts Haley, but it started in 1877 when a little blue roan calf was born to a black Texas cow. The calf was left on the bedding ground but Goodnight foreman, John Farrington, missed the calf and rode 12 miles back to get it. Meanwhile, the old cow had slipped off to get her calf. She reached the bedding ground, determined the calf wasn’t there, and was trailing the scent of it being carried horseback when Goodnight met her coming back to the herd.  He let her pass and she soon found her baby.

            The stories of the steer make old cowmen misty eyed.

He made his initial impression the first trip north with several thousand other cattle. Each morning his long stride would carry him to the front of the herd and he would remain there, swinging his blue head in rhythm, between “the pointers”. Initially sold, he was reunited with Goodnight who sealed his fate as he became arguably the most famous Texas steer.

            The cowboys attached a bell on him and the herd(s) would follow the sound. At night they would rope him and stuff the bell full of grass to keep it from ringing because as long as it rang the cattle would stand ready to follow. On the first JA trip north, he literally penned 2,000 head of steers by himself by running into railroad pens only to step aside and let the herd stream by him.

As the trains pulled out loaded with cattle, the steer stood among the mounted cowboys watching the departure. When they turned to lope south and home, he was with them. At night, he would prowl around the camp turning pots over to graze on whatever was left from supper. He’d then bed down in camp alongside the cowboys. When the next herd was pointed north, he was there ready to take his place at point swinging his head in his long rhythmic walk. His last days were spent in retirement in the Palo Duro. When he died his horns were hung reverently above the ranch office door.

His name, too, was …Blue.

Bulldog taps and memories

            There is no evidence why Lee Rice called his second son, Blue, other than the color of his big eyes, but Blue was but just one of the blue eyed Rice children. Was there something else in the use of that name? The Rice history in Texas and then trailing PIT cattle into New Mexico in early 1888 with another famous Goodnight cowboy could well have prompted something more sentimental.

It would have been Lee’s character never to say much about it, but the idea has merit. The parallels are interesting. The character of the two, the man and the beast, set the stage for grand speculation.

            As I type, I can gaze across the room to the 1931 panoramic photograph of a branding at the “head of the mesa” above Rain Creek. The cowboy in the middle of the group riding the blaze faced dun horse is a young Blue Rice. Only one cowboy is riding open stirrups. All others have longer tapaderos hanging down both sides of Wilson and Setzler saddles except Blue. His are bulldogs, and I know that picture long ago sealed my preference for bulldogs.

            Among all the stories of him, the last lion hunt may be the most appropriate.

            He had reached the point he couldn’t ride. He had watched as Rolland mounted and left the corral with the dogs headed up the creek to Haystack Mountain and other points where a cat might lead. He suffered in silence through the hallmark event.

            He returned to the house no doubt to drink another cup of coffee, but, soon, Rip was barking at something down the creek. The dog’s barking evolved from an irritation to something that Blue sensed was indeed serious.

            He hobbled to the barn, through the corral, and on toward the barking dog. Rip had something treed, and, upon inspection, lo-and-behold it was a lion! A return to the house produced that venerable old .30-30 all of us knew so well and the lion was summarily dispatched.

            Late that evening Rolland rode in with tired horses and dogs but no lion. I wasn’t there to hear the words, but I can only imagine the brevity and the matter-of-factness the event would have been described by Blue. It was only later when the rest of us got hold of the story that embellishment and laughter elevated the event.

            Blue simply smiled and … his eyes twinkled.

Stephen L. Wilmeth is a rancher from southern New Mexico. “Blue Rice must be considered as a landmark steward of his generation. His standing grass remains my model of turf sustainability to this day.”