Cow-Country

d pull the bridle down over the ears of Whitefoot, which turned with an air of immense relief into the corral gate and the hay piled at the further end. Buddy gave him one preoccupied g

t thirteen Buddy gloried in the fact. To-day, however, his m

h and watched them last night." He stood looking at his mother speculatively, a little grin on his face. "I told you, you can't change an Injun by learning him

You know better than to

re about what I saw than about grammar. Where's father? I guess I'd better

ther observed reassuringly. "He always has. I gave him a who

d head of cattle. You got to Laramie, all right, but he didn't tell father

is young men off when some of the tribe have been killed. He himself doesn't countenance

nes that were doing the dancing, mother," he flung over his shoulder. "And if I was you I'd t

bert, I am discouraged over you. All that I teach you in the winter seems to ev

pie?" he questioned as he peered into the corners. "Say, if I had the handling of those Utes, mother, I'd fix 'em so they wouldn't be breakin

I think how they'll muss things up around here! I wish now," He blurt

hen and caught him on his lean, hard-muscled young shoulders. "You-y

rumbs from his mouth with one hasty sweep of his forearm. "But his horse came outa the brush, and he never. I guess I killed him, a

d Buddy hung his head lower, dreading to see

juns take in after me, the gun's so I can shoot. And a feller don't shoot up in the air-and if an Injun is hunting trouble he

nst her breast so that Buddy heard her heart beating ste

y of defending our lives. But you'

a laugh twinkling in his eyes

ler, too. And a horse-wrangler has got to hold up his end. I-I didn't want to kill anybody, honest. But Injuns are different. You kill rattlers, and they ain't

volver, too-be sure that it is in perfect condition. And-have you a knife? You're so LITTLE!" she wailed. "But father will need you, and he'll take care of you-and Colorou would not let you be hurt if he knew. But-Bu

ing his tomahawk and yelling-he'd have scalped me right there if he'd seen me watching 'em. Mother, I'm going to find

hind a clump of willows, was a small cave-or a large niche, one might call it-where many household treasures might be safely hidden, if one went carefully, wading in the creek to

res whom men worshipped ardently because they were created for the adoration of lesser souls. Buddy did not know what his mother was going to do, but he was sure that whatever she did would be right; so he hoisted his saddle on th

s. He did not quite know how his father would manage it, but he decided that he would corral the REMUDA first, and then driv

riding before they finally bunched and went tearing down the river bottom toward the ranch. Even so, Buddy left two of the wildest careening up a narrow gulch. He had not attempted to ride after them; not be

and that the cowboys would be needed to corral the range bunch, Buddy whooped them all down t

les of perspiration with a handkerchief not much redder than his face. "I drove all the horses down, s

his beard with one hand. "You're an ambitious lad, Bu

d and stared at his

he gloves Colorou s squaw was making for me,-but I didn't get 'em. I laid in the brush and watched 'em dance." He stopped and looked a

re about t

a-going it with his war bonnet on a

ving for Big Creek to-night, so

Buddy's voice was sh

d with the cattle. Now go tell Step-and-a-Half to make ready for a week on

grow sprouts, before he peeled them for supper His crippled leg was thrust out straight, his hat was perched precariously over one ear because of the slanting su

deer and the antelope play, Where never is heard a

isposition and to deepen, if that were possible, his loathing of Indians. Too often had he made dubious soup of his dishwater and the leavings from a roundup crew's dinner, and watched blanketed bucks sma

. A man had been sent on a fast horse to warn the nearest neighbor, who in turn would warn the next,-until no settler would be left in ignorance of his

ans would step on the poppies and the phlox, and trample down the four o'clocks which were just beginning to branch out and look nice and bushy, and to blossom. The scent of the four o'clocks had been in his nostrils when he came out at dusk with his fur overcoat which mother

to the top of the range that divided the valley of Big Creek from the North Platte, and a wearier climb down. Twice Buddy caught himself on the verge of toppling out of the saddle. For after all he was only a thirteen-year Old boy, growing like an