The Last of the Plainsmen

mped in, Jones met them with characteristic speech: "Well, you decided to come in when you got hungry a

torian yell as a forerunner to the blast from his old shotgun. Then again we heard the shots unheralded by the yell. Wallace and I waxed warm under the collar over this peculiar method of training dogs, and each of us made dire threats

sang out Frank one morning.

hed was the slow, sleepy, apathetic manner that had characterized him; his ears lay back on his head; fire flashed from his eyes. When Frank threw down a kit-b

, and sometimes wor

b bad this morni

hind leg, with the same result; and then he lifted a forefoot. Baldy uttered a very intelligible snort, bit through Wallace's glove, yanked Jim off his feet, and scared me so that I let go his forelock. Then he broke the rope which hel

hen from the door, taking in the situation, he yelle

slender rope straightened with a whiz and whipped round Baldy's legs as he kicked

orm on the lariat, and Baldy crashed to the ground, rolled, tussled, screamed, and then lay on his back, kicking the air with three free legs. "Hold this," ordered Jones, givi

kin'!" sa

." But with his big hands he drew the coil loose and slip

he said, taking t

wicked leg, he was almost passive. When the shoeing operation had been neatly and quickly attended to and Baldy release

his conqueror, rubbing Baldy's nose. "N

e looked sheepish, and lapsed once mo

ayuse, the pack-hors

in' the rest of the bunch. Old Baldy was cute. He hid in a bunch of p

ar when they are hobbl

ey smell the mustangs, an' would break their necks to get away. Satan and the sorrel were ten miles from camp when I found them this mornin'. An' Jim's

facial expression seldom varied; tall and lithe and wiry as the mustangs they rode. The Stewarts were on their way to Kanab, Utah, to arrange for the sale of a drov

back in the brea

elder Stewart, "An' two for every pinto in the breaks.

holesale murder. Why don

n; but he lives down there in them holes, an' Lord knows, no dog I ever seen could follow him. We tracked him in the snow, an' had dogs after him, but none could stay with him, except t

d cougar up a tree

mustang, an' Clarke, he'll give you two each," re

horses on the

no ketchin' them, an' they regrowin' all the time We ain't h

Mustang?" inquired Frank.

fer a water-hole down where Nail Canyon runs into Kanab Canyon. He's so cunnin' he'll never water at any of our trap cor

see this White Mustang and

n will be in a few days now-hev them drive the mustangs up. Only be sure to hev them get ahead of the White Mustang, so he'll hev only one way to cum, fer he sure is knowin'. He never makes a mistake. Mebbe you'll get to see him

ever obtained of him. A singular fact was that he never attached any of his own species to his band, unless they were coal black. He had been known to fight and kill other stallions, but he kept out of the well-wooded and watered country frequented by other bands, and ranged the brakes of the Siwash as far as he could range. The usual method, indeed the o

need breaking in, we'll give

me. Besides, I saw from the expression on our leader's face t

e return of strength, and the coming of confidence, full, joyous appreciation of wild environment and life made me unspeakably happy. And I noticed that my companions were in like condition of mind, though self-contained where I was exuberant. Wallace galloped his sorrel and watched the crags; Jones talked more kind

their hearts. I've been fond of buffalo, horses and dogs, but sentiment never ruled me. When animals must obey, they must-that's all, and no mawkishness! But I never trusted a buffalo in my life. If I had I wouldn't be here to-night. You all know how many keepers of tame wild animals get killed. I could tell you dozens of tragedies. And I've often thought, since I got back from New York, of that woman I saw with her troop of African lions. I dream about those lions, and see them leaping over her head. What a grand sight that was! But the public is fooled. I