The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1890-02-08
THE COWBOYS LAST RIDE
AN INCIDENT OF LIFE IN THE WILD
DAYS OF THE GREAT WEST.

JsT DasOn Saved the HOrses-DashinE
Rars hack and Almost Naked Through
the Ranks OF Murderous Apaohes and
bringing His Herd Safe to the Ranoh.
If in those days any Of the boys had
been asked 20 pick out the coolest and
bravest member of our wild, woolly
gang, almost any one would have been
selected before JEFF Dason. Gentle,
smooth voiced, freckle faced and red
headed, our horse wrangler was chiefly
remarkable for his love of the caballada
(horse herd) over which he had charge.
Every morning sunrise saw JEFF swing
70 his saddle and drive the band to Cajou
canyon, and sunset saw them rolling the
dust back to the big corrals. 1t was only
five miles to Cajou, but the Apaches had
raided the ranch itself, and Jeff's posi-
ton was no sinecure. So 1t was that
one glorious August morning, just as
the sun came blinking lazily up over
the great eastern plains, JEFF and the
band started for the grazing ground.
In among the mesquites few daunt-
less songsters were protesting against
another day of Arizona sun, and the
earth was trying to smile in spite of the
fact that another fourteen hours of sti-
fling, gasping hea twas at hand. Across
the broad, white, alkali fiat swung the
band, raising great lazy clouds of the
pungent dust, and finally rounded the
canyon point, out of sight. 1t was cool in
ar,I lie
were untouched by the sun kiss yet, and
the fragrant breath of a restful night
still fingered lovingly over the green
grass carpet and along the redrock walls.
The forenoon passed like other fore
moons with JEFF, the horses drank, graz
ed or lay down, while their watcher
played mumbletypeg, or gambled with
four pebbles against an imaginary op-
ponent for fabulous sums, or dozed with
his hand on his horses picket rope.
About Q o'clock JEFF discovered some
pinion trees on top of the canyon walls.
and tying old "Bonapart" to a mesquite.
proceeded to investigate the condition OF
the nuts. 1t was hard climb, but after
he had reached the top and found the
pinions would be sticky for a month tC
come, he lay down to gaze on the long
level stretch of plain below.
APACHEs ON THE TRAIL.
Perhaps he lay thus fifteen or twenty
minutes, when he saw something tina
brought him to his feet, wide awake
Of to the southwest, about two mile
away from the mouth of Cajou, cam
Eve mounted Apaches, riding slowl.
toward him. With beating heart JET
watched them until the point hid then
from view, saw them come in sigh
again at the broad mouth of the canyon
watched them as they stopped and ex
lmined his horses tracks, and noted tive
lismount and start up the rocky poin
foot and the others start across to take
station at the mouth and turn the horse
when they came down away from tht
ranch. Then he started down the bluff
slipping, sliding, jumping and clinging,
until he reached the meadow below.
bruised and painting, but resolute. Tt
escape without his ponies was not to bt
thought of. The Apaches stationed be-
low will finish the stampede that thu
two creeping up will attempt But they
shouldn't have his beauties, his pets
every one of whom seemed doubly deal
| just then.
Had he not broken many of them, an6
did he not know the faults and virtues oi
every woolly scamp among them, ant
was there one in the lot that should b(
ridden, beaten, starved or saddle galleC
by those red devils1 Mol Mol Better
death twice over than that they be thu
abused. With quivering lip and sobbini
breath he draws old "Bony" close to thu
wall and with trembling hand loosen
the cinchas, throws the saddle into riff
of the canyon wall, and stripping off al
clothing save drawers, shirt and stock
ings, hurls them after the saddle. Slip
ping the bride on "Bony" and throwing
a double blanket over his sharp back, he
slides six or eight cartridges from hi
belt, catches up the revolver and stand
waiting. Presently Broncho Duke raise
his head from the grass and shifts the al
suspiciously, then with wild snort ant
nervous stamp of his forefoot he is OF
down the canyon with the band close fol
lowing.
THE RACE FOR THE RANCH.
Right behind them are jeff and Bony
part, the old war horse, with nose hig
in the air, chatting under the close rein
Has he not won many close race, an
why should his young rider strip and rid
with only blanket unless he meant t
show these young upstart colts that oil
Bony was chief still. So they race dow
the canyon, splashing through the seer
age pools, rattling over the pebbly drifts