The Hundredth Meridianrnby Chilton Williamson, Jr.rnThe Home of the BravernVague and acrid as the ocherous smokerndrifting in scarves and shoals from firesrnburning across the West, the specter ofrnRange Reform pervaded the RockyrnMountain states last summer, the driestrnon record since 1932. In drought yearsrnranchers must move their cattle rapidlyrnoff one pasture and onto the next in orderrnto prevent them from biting downrnthe sparse short grasses. Over on thernThoman Ranch on the Green River severalrnmiles south of Fontenelle Dam, theyrnwere shorthanded during the season asrnthe youngest daughter, Laurie, completingrnher reign as Miss Rodeo Wyoming,rnappeared in rodeos and parades aroundrnthe Western states, while in town, 30rnmiles away, I was sunk in an armchairrnscribbling notes for a book. When mayrna gentleman refuse a lady in distress? Irnthink of Jeeves’ answer to Bertie Wooster,rnwho had inquired on what occasion arngentleman may appear without a necktie.rnThere is no occasion, Jeeves replied,rnwhen a gentleman may not wear a necktie.rnBeing a friend of Mary Thoman isrnhard work. Back in Kemmerer, my studyrnwas filling up with documents pertainingrnto the Cumberland/Uinta GrazingrnAllotment Steering Committee; downrnhere on the Green River I had been inrnthe saddle since 7:30 A.M., and it was gettingrnon to six in the evening now. Maryrnsat the bay thoroughbred, barking ordersrnfrom under the rolled brim of her purplernfelt hat at the cows, and at me. We hadrnpushed the 30-odd head of cattle out ofrnthe Seedskadee Allotment (federalrnrange), for which the Thomans’ grazingrnpermit was set to expire at midnight,rnand were trying to put them across thernriver where they balked, most of themrnstanding in water to their chests butrnsome breaking from the herd to galloprnonto the grassy verge. We ki-yied andrnsshed, hazing them, setting the horses atrnthe water to push the cows into midstreamrnand breaking away to round uprnand drive back the renegades, but eachrntime the leaders were lifted off bottomrnby the current and began swimming theyrnchanged their minds and returned tornshallow water. My horse was so exhaustedrnI could get no acceleration from him,rnand at last Mary said that we had betterrnhold the cows together in the river untilrnMickey Thoman, who was bringingrnalong a second bunch, arrived. “As hotrnas it is, I’m surprised they don’t want tornget wet. They’re behaving really badlyrntoday. I wish Mother would hurry uprnand get here.”rnIt was pleasant sitting horseback inrnthe river where the weeds ran their fullrnlength in the freshened current causedrnby a recent release from the dam upstream,rnpale boulders parted the infiniternseries of advancing black wavelets with arnpuding sound, and the big riverine cottonwoodsrnturned over slowly on a lightrnwind, exposing the pale undersides ofrntheir leaves. On both sides of the riverrnthe desert lifted away in golden steps beyondrnthe vivid green of the trees. Mary,rnas she kept a watchful eye on the cows,rndescribed for me their complicated socialrnlife: how they will park their calves whenrnthey need to go to water, how thev providerndaycare for the calves of other cowsrn. . . “—Bring that one back!” she shouted,rnpointing suddenly behind me. Irnreined the horse about and took off at arngallop, slapping with the full length ofrnmy legs at the broad barrel.rn”You know,” I told her when we hadrnbrought everyone together again,rn”maybe the way for you ranchers to getrnaround the environmentalist crowd isrnto play up the humane and sympatheticrnqualities of cows: their intelligence,rntheir caring nature, their inherentlyrnprogressive social system—”rn”No,” Mary said decidedlv, “itrnwouldn’t work. They wouldn’t let usrnsell them for beef then. Here comesrnMother along the fence with the cows.rnWhat is she doing on the other sidernof it?”rnShe rode over to greet her across thernwire while I held the cows in the water,rnand returned to explain that Mickey, seeingrnthe gate above the river in the closedrnposition, had assumed that it was alsornlocked. An electric fence installed byrnthe government to keep cattle out of thernwildlife refuge prevented her fromrnputting the cows around the end of thernThoman’s fence and driving them upstreamrnto our herd. So we stood oncernmore with the cows while Mickey drovernher animals back along the fence, off thernbottom and onto the bench and across itrnhalf a mile to the gate, and down to thernriver again.rnWhen we added Mickey’s cows to ourrncows the expanded herd began immediatelyrnto cross, taking a course downriverrnfrom the one we had chosen for them.rnHere the water ran shallower than it appearedrnfrom the bank, but we were carefulrnanyway to give wide berth to thernboulders, behind which the currentrngouges deep holes; falling into one ofrnthese, a panicked horse will attempt tornclimb on the swimming rider. In thernearly 70’s, while the Thoman family wasrnbattling the federal government’s campaignrnto condemn their deeded landrnalong the river for the refuge, Mary’s sisterrnCathy was drowned crossing thernGreen on horseback.rnAs soon as the cows reached the oppositernshore they dove into the cottonwoodsrnand willows and scattered; we putrnthe horses after them, dodging andrnwheeling among the tree trunks, therndown timber, and the shattered stumps,rnthe raking branches and the underbrush.rnThe cattle ran bawling and stomping,rnbut within ten minutes we had flushedrnthem from the breaks and set them movingrntogether onto the bench and acrossrnthe upland sagebrush turning lavenderrnunder the flat long strokes of the settingrnsun. The yellow grass had headed arnmonth or six weeks ead and the bentoniternground was parched to a hardnessrnthat went to powder under the animals’rnhooves, forcing me to raise my bandanarnagainst the dust and pollen and miniseulernfragments of sagebrush. Thirtyrnminutes later we put the cows throughrnthe gate onto new pasture. Then wernrode down the river and crossed at a lowrnNOVEMBER 1994/49rnrnrn