As Capp, Running Wild, and Maizie reached the white fence surrounding the eight-furlong track, Capp said, “You can watch from here. Step up on the first rail to get a real good look. I’m going to run this big boy around. Just a little workout.” Maizie watched as Capp dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and yelled, “Let’s go, you crazy, wild horse!”
Capp, holding firm on the tight reins, ran the horse down the first stretch. He looked poised and alert. Around the bend he gave slack to the reins, letting the horse go faster into the turn. Capp patted Running Wild’s neck. There was beauty in horse and rider working together. The thundering hoof beats grew louder as Capp and Running Wild drew near where Maizie was perched on the rail. “Whoa, boy,” Capp yelled. He pulled on the reins to slow the stallion down. The horse returned to a trot and then a walk. Running Wild was shaking his head and stepping high. Capp held the reins tight. “Whoa, easy, big fella!” The horse reared slightly and then seemed to heed the command, calmed his gait to return to the saddling paddock.
Capp dismounted, waited for Maizie to run from the track fence, and then wrapped his reins around the paddock fence. Walking the short distance to Breezy, he said, “Well, shall we be on our way?”
“Not sure I can run a horse yet,” Maizie said. Capp laughed out loud. “You are a smart girl to understand that. No Miss, you aren’t ready, but one day, if you like this, maybe you will be. I saw a girl dress like a guy and jockey a horse in a race. She won,” Capp chuckled. “I was just a boy, but it sure did make an impression.”
“You think a girl can’t race a horse?”
“I’m sayin’ a girl can. I saw it.”
Maizie stood still and waited for instructions. Capp said nothing but hoisted her up to the saddle. She sat stiffly having no idea what to do next. Capp adjusted the stirrups and gave her a few pointers. “Stay centered on the saddle. That’ll keep you from falling off. Nothing to be afraid of.” Capp grinned as he clipped a lead rope to Breezy’s halter. “You look good up there,” he said.
“Why you smiling?” she asked, her face filled with terror.
“You look like you are about ready to ride a buckin’ bull. Relax.”
Maizie breathed in deeply, attempting to calm her nerves.
“You’ll be fine,” he assured her. Capp removed the picnic saddlebags draped over the paddock fence, tied them behind his saddle and mounted his horse. Reaching down, he picked up Breezy’s lead and started down the road.
Riding past the mess hall, Capp tipped his hat to Thelma, who was standing on the steps. “Good morning, Miss Thelma.”
“Mornin’,” said Thelma, who then turned around and yelled into the doorway. Out came Josie, catching the sight of Capp and Maizie riding away.
Many trails meandered around the ranch. Some were deer and cow trails, narrow and ungroomed, but the road to the quarry was wagon-wide, well maintained and eight miles round trip. It was a good first ride for Maizie, easy and beautiful with great views of the verdant rolling landscape and a look at the famous Osage orange-tree hedge fence.
There was a lot to see, so Capp took his time. Maizie, leaning to stroke Breezy’s mane, shifted slightly in the saddle, her shoulders relaxed. The countryside was beautiful and the road took them along the west side. When the Osage orange hedge trees came into view, Maizie asked, “How did all those trees get planted?”
Capp smiled and nodded. “It is an incredible fence. Seems to go forever.” Capp then went on to explain the history of the Osage orange-tree border, which was “horse high, bull strong, and hog tight.” He told her about Buckus Del Henny.
“It’s a truer legend than most, Maizie. They say the ol’ man had a hurt to heal. It was a way to keep the world out.”
“I think I know how he felt,” she said.
The two rode in silence for a while. Suddenly Capp said, “Once just up the road a bit, I found a calf crying for his mama. He tried to cut below the lower limbs and got stuck. I helped the little fella get loose. You should have seen him run. Why his mama was right there under that oak. She mooed really loud. I’d like to think she wanted to thank me. Seems funny he was trying to get out, he had everything he needed on this side of the fence. Trying to get out can cause a heap of trouble.”
Maizie laughed. “Anybody ever get hung up on the fence?”
“Yep. One ranch hand took a thorn and got an infection. Nearly had to cut off his arm. That fence is wicked and beautiful at the same time.”
The road now took a turn due east and headed up through cream and ochre rock formations jutting from the landscape. Capp explained that Mr. Glidewell hired a team of Irish quarry workers from Kansas City to harvest stone for the barn, stables, and ranch house. “You’ll see, Maizie, when we get to the quarry that a lot of stone from one mammoth outcropping has been removed. It’s beautiful up there. There is even an artesian well and reservoir fed with underground water. The Osage Indians thought it sacred. And it does feel like that.”
“Seems this place is more than a person can get a handle on.”
“You are right about that. This ranch is something special.”
“I can see that. Never seen anything like it.”
“You want to go it alone with Breezy here? I think you’re ready. I’ll just unclip that lead rope, and you’ll be ridin’ on your own.”
Maizie looked up at him, still gripping tightly to the horn. Capp smiled again and reached to pat her leg. “You’re good. No reason to be afraid. Just pick up
