Tom was forced to sell out his cattle and turn to sheep-raising. Matt, a self-respecting cattleman, parted company with Tom at that point, but Tom did not hold this against Matt, and even helped him financially until he could get his own credit at the bank. Matt came on over to the Park driving a herd of his own, mostly young heifers he had got from Tom Kinney in their final settling up.
Although Matt stayed in the Bassett bunkhouse when he first entered the Park, he soon built himself a cabin a couple of miles west of the Bassett home and became independent. Friendship grew between the Bassetts and him, and the relationship deepened into another “family” association as time went on. Matt was from a good Texas family—his mother was a sister of Davy Crockett, it is said—and he spoke the same language as the Bassetts. Although Elizabeth was cordial to her neighbors, she had little in common with many of them and had developed no intimate friends. It was a pleasure to both Herb and her to have the company of this bright, aggressive young man.
Not too long after the arrival of Matt and Isom, a teenager joined them at the Bassett ranch: Jim McKnight, a rangy, six-foot Scotsman with chiseled features and blue eyes that turned green when he was angry. Jim was the namesake of a father whose own family had disowned him when he left the Catholic faith to become a Mormon. Eventually the elder McKnight became involved in so severe a doctrinal argument with the church elders that he was forced to leave Utah. He went on to the state of Washington, where he edited a newspaper, and never returned to Utah. His devoutly Mormon wife Mary stayed on at the family farm in the Salt Lake area, continuing to raise her children in the ways of righteousness.
Young Jim became disillusioned with Mormonism as his father had, and in 1881, when he was only twelve years old, he ran away to Rock Springs. Luckily for Jim, he captured the interest of a wealthy rancher, an immigrant from Pennsylvania named Butterworth. Jim worked on Butterworth’s ranch during his early teens, and his employer saw to it that he got an education and stayed out of trouble. When Jim felt himself grown he headed for Brown’s Park to begin ranching for himself, and ended up at the Bassett ranch as another cowboy ambitious to start his own personal herd of cattle.
Jim joined Matt Rash, Isom Dart and Elizabeth in an informal but closely cooperative working relationship in which they handled their various herds almost as one. When J. S. Hoy spoke of “the Bassett gang,” he was referring to these three men, and he regarded Matt Rash as the senior member. It is interesting to note, however, that for all of Hoy’s disapproval of Rash, and for all his eagerness to file complaints against his neighbors, no charge was ever brought against Rash, nor against Elizabeth or Jim McKnight for that matter. Isom was not as lucky, and was accused at least twice.
John Rolfe Burroughs tells of a time when Deputy Sheriff Philbrick came out from Rock Springs to arrest Isom on J. S. Hoy’s complaint of “larceny of livestock.” On the way back to Rock Springs there was an accident; the horses, the buckboard, the deputy and his prisoner all tumbled into a deep draw, leaving Philbrick with smashed ribs and several bad cuts. Isom, unhurt, got the team back on the road, took Philbrick to the hospital at Rock Springs, delivered the horses to the livery stable, then walked over to the jail and turned himself in. The grateful Philbrick testified at Isom’s trial, pointing out that such merciful treatment and willingness to accept arrest were not the actions of a guilty man. The jury found Isom innocent of the charges.
Burroughs tells of a more serious incident in 1890, when three of the Bassett cowhands—Angus McDougal, Jack Fitch and Isom Dart—were accused of burning down Harry Hoy’s barn. Angus and Isom were further accused of altering the brands on three horses belonging to another brother, A. A. Hoy. Angus McDougal was sentenced to five years in the Colorado state penitentiary, although Tom Davenport, Elizabeth and young Sam Bassett were subpoenaed to testify for the defense. Charges against Fitch were dropped. Burroughs states that Isom jumped jail (perhaps with the approval of his jailers?) and was never brought to trial. If so, it is possible that the authorities had no more of a case against him than they had against Fitch, since they did not bother making another trip to the Park to bring him in. Considering his reputation and his behavior with Deputy Sheriff Philbrick, it seems that they could have dropped him a postcard and he would have come to trial of his own accord.
If Elizabeth’s helpers can be considered a “gang,” then there was one other member, an important one. Even before Elizabeth acquired her first cowhand, little Josie had been a working member of the family. As each baby arrived and as the workload on Elizabeth grew heavier, Josie took over an increasing share of the care of the smaller children and the household tasks. She graduated from the work/play of “helping” Elizabeth pat out the biscuit dough with fingers still chubby with baby fat to making those biscuits herself. The first child, Josie accepted her responsibilities as a matter of course, and her lifelong generosity and solicitude for others (along with her habit of command) became as natural as breathing.
Josie has been called “another Elizabeth.” She must have been a charming little girl. Her curly hair was the color of a copper penny; her fair skin was liberally sprinkled with freckles. She learned from her mother the art of tactful persuasion and acquired her mother’s well-mannered poise and serenity. She had Elizabeth’s quickness and drive, her ability and need to control, her indomitability, her strong will, and her well-controlled but volcanic temper. But where Elizabeth was admired and respected, Josie was to be loved, for her strengths were tempered by the warmth and affability she gained from her father.
Young Sam was more like Herb, an easy child to care for when Josie became his surrogate mother. Since Sam was over four years old when the Bassetts returned to Brown’s Park, he too would have soon become a working member of the family. Like all the Bassett children, he learned to ride as soon as he could straddle a horse, but even before he was trusted on horseback he must have gathered eggs, hauled water from the spring and brought wood for the cookstove.
Ann was altogether different. If Josie was the picture of her mother, Ann was Elizabeth’s caricature. Like Josie, she had fair, freckled skin, and although her hair lacked the brightness of Josie’s, it still had auburn highlights. Ann could be as winsome as her mother and behave as sweetly and politely as her older sister Josie when she wanted to, but she lacked the self-control and self-assurance that her mother and Josie both possessed. Whereas Josie’s temper was slow to rouse and responded only to strong provocation, Ann’s temper was her primary weapon in her determination to have her own way. She had been a demanding child from the first time she found no milk in her mother’s breasts, and as she grew older her temper tantrums became part of her standard repertoire.
In those beginning years a relationship between Josie and Ann was formed that was to continue throughout their lives. It was a close and loving one, for family ties were important in the Bassett family, but it was never peaceful. Josie chided and scolded her younger sister when she was naughty, and exercised her delegated authority with complete assurance. Josie had an honest conviction that what she was saying should be listened to by any well-brought-up girl, especially a Bassett girl. She infuriated Ann, who usually refused to obey. Ann was impudent, and she soon learned to bait Josie into losing her temper. Elizabeth and Herb would, of course, scold Ann for being naughty, but the brunt of their displeasure must have fallen on Josie, who, after all, was older and supposed to know better. Ann, looking angelic with tears in innocent eyes, would thoroughly enjoy the uproar she had caused.
Their next brother, Eb, was another Ann, although he lacked Ann’s steel-willed violence. When George came along in 1884 he was “Herbert’s child,” and this must have been a decided relief to Josie. As the years passed, each boy in turn was introduced to the outside work and was gradually absorbed into tasks in the fields and on the range. Ann, however, was expected to follow in her sister’s footsteps, become a little lady, and turn into what the neighbors were later to call Josie—a “homebody.”
Ann had other ideas. She looked at Josie, who actually liked to work around the house, and at her mother, who spent much time in the saddle, and decided that her mother and her brothers were having all the fun. From the time she could climb on a horse she
