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Arizona Nights-Part9_Stewart Edward White(1873-1946)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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centre of the group. But again, if the first throw failed, it



was interesting to see how the selected pony would dodge, double

back, twist, turn, and hide to escape second cast. And it was



equally interesting to observe how his companions would help him.

They seemed to realise that they were not wanted, and would push



themselves between the cowboy and his intended mount with the

utmost boldness. In the thick dust that instantly arose, and



with the bewildering thunder of galloping, the flashing change of

grouping, the rush of the charging animals, recognition alone



would seem almost impossible, yet in an incredibly short time

each had his mount, and the others, under convoy of the



wranglers, were meekly wending their way out over the plain.

There, until time for a change of horses, they would graze in a



loose and scattered band, requiring scarcely any supervision.

Escape? Bless you, no, that thought was the last in their minds.



In the meantime the saddles and bridles were adjusted. Always in

a cowboy's "string" of from six to ten animals the boss assigns



him two or three broncos to break in to the cow business.

Therefore, each morning we could observe a half dozen or so men



gingerly leading wicked looking little animals out to the sand

"to take the pitch out of them." One small black, belonging to a



cowboy called the Judge, used more than to fulfil expectations of

a good time.



"Go to him, Judge!" someone would always remark.

"If he ain't goin' to pitch, I ain't goin' to make him", the



Judge would grin, as he swung aboard.

The black would trot off quite calmly and in a most matter of



fact way, as though to shame all slanderers of his lamb-like

character. Then, as the bystanders would turn away, he would



utter a squeal, throw down his head, and go at it. He was a very

hard bucker, and made some really spectacular jumps, but the



trick on which he based his claims to originality consisted in

standing on his hind legs at so perilous an approach to the



perpendicular that his rider would conclude he was about to fall

backwards, and then suddenly springing forward in a series of



stiff-legged bucks. The first manoeuvre induced the rider to

loosen his seat in order to be ready to jump from under, and the



second threw him before he could regain his grip.

"And they say a horse don't think!" exclaimed an admirer.



But as these were broken horses--save the mark!--the show was all

over after each had had his little fling. We mounted and rode



away, just as the mountain peaks to the west caught the rays of a

sun we should not enjoy for a good half hour yet.



I had five horses in my string, and this morning rode "that C S

horse, Brown Jug." Brown Jug was a powerful and well-built



animal, about fourteen two in height, and possessed of a vast

enthusiasm for cow-work. As the morning was frosty, he felt



good.

At the gate of the water corral we separated into two groups.



The smaller, under the direction of Jed Parker, was to drive the

mesquite in the wide flats. The rest of us, under the command of



Homer, the round-up captain, were to sweep the country even as

far as the base of the foothills near Mount Graham. Accordingly



we put our horses to the full gallop.

Mile after mile we thundered along at a brisk rate of speed.



Sometimes we dodged in and out among the mesquite bushes,

alternately separating and coming together again; sometimes we



swept over grassy plains apparently of illimitable extent,

sometimes we skipped and hopped and buck-jumped through and over



little gullies, barrancas, and other sorts of malpais--but always

without drawing rein. The men rode easily, with no thought to



the way nor care for the footing. The air came back sharp

against our faces. The warm blood stirred by the rush flowed



more rapidly. We experienced a delightful glow. Of the morning

cold only the very tips of our fingers and the ends of our noses



retained a remnant. Already the sun was shining low and level

across the plains. The shadows of the canons modelled the



hitherto flat surfaces of the mountains.

After a time we came to some low hills helmeted with the outcrop



of a rock escarpment. Hitherto they had seemed a termination of

Mount Graham, but now, when we rode around them, we discovered



them to be separated from the range by a good five miles of

sloping plain. Later we looked back and would have sworn them



part of the Dos Cabesas system, did we not know them to be at

least eight miles' distant from that rocky rampart. It is always






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