But enthused as she was describing Montreal, she was aching to know more about Monty's life. She was saddened to hear how his parents had died in the tragic accident which had made him ranch owner at such an early age, and she put her hand again on his arm in sympathy. She pressed him to describe the ranch, although it seemed she would be getting to see it if their unwanted passenger had his way.
He told her how the little river ran through the middle of the ranch, making water available for the cattle to drink so that he didn't need many storage tanks or wells. Unlike most California rivers, which spent most of the summer and fall as dry sand beds, this one was fed by a reservoir upstream so carried water year-round. Unaccustomed to describing the ranch, he drew on his memory of what he saw as he rode Buck up hills and down swales, through foothills dotted with oak trees, and up to the top of the highest peaks on the ranch. He described the wildlife he saw frequently: coyotes, deer, bobcats, rattlesnakes, possums, even a mountain lion glimpsed one memorable morning years ago. He told her of the cycle of life in a year on the ranch. In the late fall, the calves were born so that the nursing cows would have feed when the rains started. By spring, the calves were also eating grass, and had grown big enough that it was time to gather the cattle in. Then the calves were branded and decisions were made about keeping the best heifers to put back into the herd while culling out any old, crippled, or barren cows. The cattle leaving the ranch were either hauled by the owner to be sold at the local auction, or if there were many steers and heifers, sold as a lot to buyers who came with huge double-decked cattle trucks. Those were sold by weight, with the truck being weighed empty and again loaded, to determine total weight of the livestock.
"Sorry, I don't usually talk about the ranch, and I guess I got carried away," Monty apologized sheepishly.
"No, no, it's all new to me and I love hearing about it. It seems so much more interesting, so much more real than what I do," Laura exclaimed. "But if we're getting near the rest stop, what do you think we should write as a message?"
"I'm thinking maybe the license number of the truck, then something like "S F killer in truck." Does that sound like anything you've been considering?" Monty said thoughtfully.