The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1890-03-07
THE COWBOYS LAST RIDE
AN INCIDENT OF LIFE IN THE WILD
DAYS OF THE. GREAT WEST.

Bare Back and Almost Naked Through
the Ranks of Murderous Apaches and
bringing His Herd Safe to the Ranch.
If in those days any of the boys had
been asked to 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 vas chiefly
remarkable for his love Of the caballada
(horse herd over which he had charge.
Every morning sunrise saw jeff swing
to his saddle and drive the band to Cajou
canyon, and sunset saw them rolling the
dust back to the big c~orrals. 1t was only
five miles to Cajou, but the Apaches had
raided the ranch itself, and Jeff's posi-
ton was no sinecure. So it was that
one glorious August morning, just as
the sun came blinking lazily up over
the great easern plains, jeff and the
band started for the grazing ground.
in among the mesquites a 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 was at hand. Across
the broad, white, alkali flat swung the
band, raising great lazy clouds of the
pungen dust, and finally rounded the
canyon point, out of sight. 1t was coolin
Cajou, for the cedar-crowned rock walls
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
cd or lay down, while their watcher
played mumbletypeg, OF gambled with
four pebbles against an imaginary OPP
ponent for fabulous sums, or dozed with
his hand on his horses picket rope.
About . 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 d hard climb, but after
he had reached the top and found the
pinions would be sticky for a month to
come, he lay down to gaze on the long,
level stretch of plain below.
APAcHES ON THE Rail
Perhaps he lay thus fifteen or twenty
minutes, when he saw something that
brought him to his feet, wide awake.
Off to the southwest, about two miles
away from the mouth of Caiou, came
five mounted Apaehes, riding slowly
toward him. With beating heart JEFF
watched them until the point hid then.
from view, saw them come i'll sight
again at the broad mouth of the canyon,
watched them as they stopped and ex-
alnined his horses tracks, and noted two
disnlount and start up the rocky point
afoot and the others start across to take
station at the mouth and turn the horses
when they came down away from the
ranch. Then he started down the bluff.
slipping, sliding. jumping and clinging.
until he reached the meadow below,
bruised and painting, but resolute. TG
escape without his ponies was not to be
thought of. The Apaches stationed be-
low will finish the stampede that t!r,
two creeping up will attempt. But the,
shouldn't have his beauties, his pets,
every one of whom seemed deadly dear
just then.
Had he not broken many of them, and
did he not know the faults and virtues of
every woolly scamp among them, and
was there one in the lot that should DO
ridden, beaten, starved or saddle CALLED
by those red devils? No, No, Better
death twice over than that they be thus
abused. Witlrquivering lip and sobbinc
J,a,tl, 10 Two y~c oil s.pop,-f cIoeo Il, ~
wall and with trembling hand loosens
the cinchas, throws the saddle into a riff
of the canyon wall, and stripping off az
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 his
belt, catches up the revolver and stands
waiting. Presently Broncho Duke raises
his head from the grass and shifts the air
mIspiciously, then with a wild snort and
a nervous stamp of his forefoot he is oil
down the canyon with the band close fol.
lowing.
TIE RACE FOR THE RANCH.
Right behind them are jeff and Bony>
pau. LiS Olt Wal HClScI WIN llCoe ilISb
in the air, chatting under the close rein.
Has he not Won many a close race, and
why should his young rider strip and ride
with only q blanket unless he meant to
show these young upstart colts that old
Bony was chief still. So they race down
the canyon, splashing through the seep-
age pools, rafting over the pebbly drifts,
swishing through the sage and mesquite
bottoms, and whirl from the canyons
mouth like bounding powders. A start
ling yell from the waiting Apaches, and
Jeff tightens his grip and digs his bare
heels in Bony's tanks as the watchers
sweep out toward the band. The horses
snort and shy, but the old racer is stretch
ing his long legs on the opposite side and
Jeff's pistol is hurting a stream of fire
that holds them steady. They race thus
perhaps seventy-ive yards, but old Bony
crowds them so close that, bewildering
and confused, they break and sweep be-
tween the bowling, astonished Indians
and take a bee line for the ranch.
As the victorious horse and rider whirl
past they receive a flight of arrows, Jeff
stopping two and the horse catching one,
which he notices by a squeal and a kick
as he thunders on after his mates. How
old Bony did enjoy that race with FREQ
rein and the long, level plains before
them! How he showed those conceited