Author: | Willard F. Baker | ISBN: | 1230000139766 |
Publisher: | WDS Publishing | Publication: | June 7, 2013 |
Imprint: | Language: | English |
Author: | Willard F. Baker |
ISBN: | 1230000139766 |
Publisher: | WDS Publishing |
Publication: | June 7, 2013 |
Imprint: | |
Language: | English |
“Come on, Nort! It's your turn to cut out the next one!”
“S'pose I make a mux of it, Bud!”
“Shucks! You won't do that! You've roped a calf before!”
“Yes, but not at a big round-up like this. If I make a fizzle the fellows will give me the laugh!”
“What if they do? Everybody knows you haven't been at it long, and you've got to make a start. Besides, anybody's likely to make a mistake. That's why they put rubbers on the ends of pencils. Ride in now and snake out the next one, Nort!”
“All right, Bud! Here goes!”
Blaze, the pony Nort Shannon was riding toward the bunch of cattle gathered at Diamond X ranch for the big, spring round-up, leaped forward at the sound of his master's voice, and in response to the little jerk of the reins and the clap of heels against his sides. Into the herd of milling, turning and twisting cattle the intelligent animal made his way, needing hardly any guidance from Nort. The lad, by a mere touch, corrected the course of Blaze slightly, and in a moment he was heading for a calf which bawled loudly.
“Get him, Nort!” cried a voice from among the cowboys looking on.
“Don't get me fussed, Dick!” Nort shouted back to his brother, who sat astride his pony near Bud Merkle. “It'll be your turn next!”
Into the herd he wormed his way on Blaze, dodging here and there, but with his eyes ever on the calf he hoped to cut out so it could be branded. Nort leaned forward in his saddle, and then his cousin and brother, eagerly watching from outside the herd, saw the boy rancher's hand shoot up.
Through the air the rope went, turning, twisting, writhing and uncoiling like a snake. In an instant it had flipped around the hind legs of a calf.
“Good!” yelled Dick.
“Even Babe couldn't 'a' done better!” complimented Bud, enthusiastically.
“'Tisn't over yet!” gasped Nort, for he had hard work ahead of him, and the dust raised by thousands of hoofs was choking. “Wait 'till I get it to the branding corral!”
He leaned over in his other stirrup, causing the lariat to pull taut and, the next instant the calf flopped on its side.
“Come on, Nort! It's your turn to cut out the next one!”
“S'pose I make a mux of it, Bud!”
“Shucks! You won't do that! You've roped a calf before!”
“Yes, but not at a big round-up like this. If I make a fizzle the fellows will give me the laugh!”
“What if they do? Everybody knows you haven't been at it long, and you've got to make a start. Besides, anybody's likely to make a mistake. That's why they put rubbers on the ends of pencils. Ride in now and snake out the next one, Nort!”
“All right, Bud! Here goes!”
Blaze, the pony Nort Shannon was riding toward the bunch of cattle gathered at Diamond X ranch for the big, spring round-up, leaped forward at the sound of his master's voice, and in response to the little jerk of the reins and the clap of heels against his sides. Into the herd of milling, turning and twisting cattle the intelligent animal made his way, needing hardly any guidance from Nort. The lad, by a mere touch, corrected the course of Blaze slightly, and in a moment he was heading for a calf which bawled loudly.
“Get him, Nort!” cried a voice from among the cowboys looking on.
“Don't get me fussed, Dick!” Nort shouted back to his brother, who sat astride his pony near Bud Merkle. “It'll be your turn next!”
Into the herd he wormed his way on Blaze, dodging here and there, but with his eyes ever on the calf he hoped to cut out so it could be branded. Nort leaned forward in his saddle, and then his cousin and brother, eagerly watching from outside the herd, saw the boy rancher's hand shoot up.
Through the air the rope went, turning, twisting, writhing and uncoiling like a snake. In an instant it had flipped around the hind legs of a calf.
“Good!” yelled Dick.
“Even Babe couldn't 'a' done better!” complimented Bud, enthusiastically.
“'Tisn't over yet!” gasped Nort, for he had hard work ahead of him, and the dust raised by thousands of hoofs was choking. “Wait 'till I get it to the branding corral!”
He leaned over in his other stirrup, causing the lariat to pull taut and, the next instant the calf flopped on its side.