Adventures in Many Lands

station to which is King City, "up country" from Los Angeles. My friend, Tom Bain, owned a cattle-ran

ng-so early, that we had breakfasted and were off in a pair-horse buckboard by seven o'clock. And then we had a fourteen hours' drive, climbing, ever climbing, with a dip here an

distinctly and almost individually on hills miles and miles away, and a camera speedily proves how really free is the atmosphere of all visionary obstruction. A photograp

over these hills, although it took us from seven in the morning until nine o'clock at night to complete the journey, was an

ving thing di

g of beauty di

nty, yet you would have vowed that such development in face, feature, and limb could not have been attained before the age of thirty-five years. Silent, unassuming fellows, too, not w

at. He seems to have such large ideas concerning all things, and to suggest by his manner, especially when you are out on the plains with him, that he cares more for his cattle, and for his horse parti

tter than hold your tongue about the wonders of Europe and its cities, about your own various exploits here and there. You will learn a lot by not talking, and if yo

apable; about twenty years of age, I should think, and looked after as much by every man on my friend's ranche as she was by her own father. In fact, my friend Bain seemed to take more than a fatherly interest in her. She called him Tom, and he called her

ion and comfort, compared with my English home; but it was jolly, real jolly. I never felt so well and strong in all my life as when I w

as any of the expert business on, such as "cutting out," and "corralling." But I began gradually to feel my way in accompli

st learn on a cattle-ranche-to use the lasso. Every man carries his rope on his saddle, as a necessary-in fact, there, the most necessary-part of his eq

f which time you know what it is to have an arm-ache-it may be many days, even many weeks, before you are able to do it-you succeed in lassoing your object two or t

enderfoot, and to feel quite sure what is going to happen. You whirl your lasso round your head, and aim it at the horns of a harmless steer in the corral some yards away. But you look in vain t

fter many more attempts, and with an arm that acheth much, you succeed in affixing

anding still, and you throw your lasso, carefully watching the fall as it whirls through the air. Poor animal! Instead of roping it by the horns, you nearly jerk its tail off! There are very m

into all sorts of places, some almost inaccessible among the hills, and if they are not found and brought back to the pastures within easy reach of the corral, they become wild, and then there is mi

end's ranche had gone astray in this w

r matters in connection with the decision of the "boss" to drive a bunch of cattle down to King City, where they would be entrained for 'Frisco.

a noisy mood. He was muttering hard, and I wondered what Edna had been saying to him. But it wasn't Edna at all. He had come down from the other ranche, higher up the valley, and had passed

King City with our own bunch. We had been feeling rather sleepy, but this news made us at once very much alive. However, we decided

ome time anticipating the excitement of the next evening. It is not all play, this raiding of wild catt

's men. We were there all the evening, waiting for the hour of midnight at which to sally forth. Edna had expressed a desire to come too! She was a fin

nd set off for the corn-brake. I was keen on seeing how these fellows were going to cap

their stately heads, and there we held our final council of war. Bain, anxious to give a tenderfoot a chance of seeing as much of the proceedings as possible, directed me to get off my horse and climb the ba

ll black mass of moving things, about three hundred yards away. I went quietly back to the riv

e river and parallel with the cornfield. We were to try to "head" the cattle, and so prevent them from breaking ou

rom our horses, the cattle in the corn. We thought we had been very quiet indeed, but we noticed a hurried movement among the be

up to our horses' shoulders. It made me quite giddy for a second or two, but I galloped madly on after my companion, who, with his shrill cowboy yells, helped the roaring cattle to w

ver head the

to keep them on the flat ground, and at every leap over a rough incline I thought my horse would break his neck and mine too. But as surefooted as goats

wo wild cattle knew too much for me. They tore across a gully, dashed up the other side and away at full gallop into the hills. I let them go. If I had pur

night. A half-moon shone out in a clear sky, like a semicircle of pure, bright silver, the tops of the mountains were silhouetted against the sky as if they were cut out of cardboar

et breathing-space, so I sat there in the saddle, waiting. I pulled my c

hear it long before my eyes could detect anything, even in that bright moonlight. Then, in a few moments, there approached a horse at full gallop, with his head low down and neck extende

he saddle with her as she fell, and she was clinging desperately with her hands to the horse'

had undertaken; but I urged my horse onwards and galloped him at his utmost in an endeavour to head the other, when perhaps I might be able to clutch a rein and stop the runaway. But Edna's horse was the fleetest of any on the ranche; moreover,

full speed along the bank a huge steer that bellowed as it endeavoured to secure a free run up into the hil

tion, wheeled, and galloped down the bank at an angle calculated to make it easier for him to get within reach of Edna's horse. Then I saw it was Tom, and he must

at! was he going to take such a risk? To lasso the horse and check it suddenly when at a mad gallop like that? Surely the

ing. This was the time for skill. If ever Tom should throw his lariat well, it must be now. With unerring aim the rope was cast, and th

nd nearer by degrees and taking in the slack until he was right alongside. He soon brought the runaway to a stand-still, and directed me to release Edna's foot from the stirrup, which I did. She sank to the

in the side. This had so startled the animal that he reared, and then dashed off madly up the valley in the way I had seen her coming. She had fallen over, and as h

e, and from loss of blood and as the result of his long, mad gallop, the poo

ey had found that the cattle had turned. Then they waited until they could get behind

show; there is no gallery to play to. It is a necessary accomplishment. A man has lost his rope, the other end of it, perhaps, being round the horns of a steer. He gallops after it, as soon as he is clear of the bunch,

ravelled down to King City. But the newcomers were too unruly. They continually broke away en r

ad some experience that was worth winning, and I had

and figured with a design representing a coiled lariat. And from out