The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1898-07-03

and announced the riding, and invited
the contesting busters to throw dice
for choice of horse. This called forth
uproariouS yellS of applause. One OF
the contestants, the north valley repre-
sentative, was not present, but his men,
tor was, with full power to act This
latter, however, an old ranch foreman
with badly bowed legs and crooked
back, called out renewed cheers by re-
marking that he ''reckoned 1t dldn
make much difference about the throw
in, as Curlew war satisfied with most
any boss
But the south valley contingent de-
INJURED at this. and Dillon routed it as
supplementary. So old Joe and the
south valley man cast for choice, and
the throw was Joe's. He gruffiy cnose
the horse that should be nearer the
corral gate. Then they shook out again
for precedence in order Of riding, and
this time the south valley broncho rider
| won, electing to ride second. There was
one other contestant, who did not
throw-but 1 am anticipating my story.
After these preliminaries all roads
pointed corralward, the exodus even
stripping Dillon's bar of its deft at
PENDANTS. The corral was situated at
the open extremity of the gulch, on a
fiat of much lower level than that OF
! Dillon's and the other main division of
! the town.
When l got down the fiat was cleared
for action, and the man called CurleW
was preparing to ride. 1t was my tlrst
| glimpse of him, a tall, loose Jo1nted,
long limbed (hence the nickname), red
haired boy of perhaps five and twenty,
drawing and good natured with the
most surprising and unaffected air OF
nonchalance imaginable. He was evil
IDENTIFY the equestrian idol OF his valley
| if one dare assume broncho busting to
| be equestrianism-for the advice and
announcement that were volunteered
! him would have bolstered a much more
nervous man. He smiled back jocularly
and, under old Joe'S tutelage, discard
ed all superfiuous apparel and fittings,
buckling his straps well about him.
On the arrival of the crowd at the
corral the glass-eyed bay had been
nearer the gate, and so twas with him
that Curlew had to deal. The rules OF
the contest exacted that each man sad
die his own horse, and, lariat in hand,
the hatlesS, red-crowned boy entered
the corral alone. He was slow, almost
listleSS, in his movements; but there
was a loose, easy grace to MN, ana
when his rope-arm shot out from a
trail it was as swift and as sure as the
stroke of a moccasin. He was forced to
snub and throw the horse, and then
hood the glass eyes; saddling was
matter to take the enthusiasm out or
a man new to the work, but ao length
the trick was over, and CurleW Sig
nailed for the gate.
He had barely time to draw his sleeve
across his perspiring face when the
half -choked and bewildered pony had
leaped like a flash to his feet; at the
same fractional part of a second Cur
lew was lightly enSconced in the sad
die, stirruped and pulling off the pony'S
hood. Blinded by the sun, dazed, and
frightened by the weight on his back,
the bay stood quivering for a short
space. But a singing cut from Cur
LEWIS quirt discovered his bondage to
him. Up he reared, straight and I'M
hesitating, until, losing his balance, he
dropped over backward with an ugly
thud, the broad horn of the cowSaddle
digging into the ground just where
Curlew's sternum should have been.
But the red-haired boy was to one
SIDE waiting. He must have been
quick as light, for 1 assure you the
play of the pony was not slow. Again
and again the bay rose in the air and
repeated the backward fall, Curlew
each time elu0ing it and each time
swinging in the saddle as the playful
brute came to his feet. 1t was all in
credibly rapid, and how the boy han
y
a mystery to me. There were II of
these backward half somersaults in
that 90-foot corral, and then the ma
neuver was given over, forming merely
an transformations prelude to the real
tactics of the fight
With shrill whistle of rage that
brought my heart against my ribs, the
bay made several sharp sidelong jumps
and then took to running. Through
the corral gate, across the fiat, up the
steep pitch, and into the town he went,
the whole company of interested spec !
tators following at their variously best
PAGES. Curley sat him with Swaying
ease, the hackamore rope hanging loose (
in his hand; he made no attempt to
stop or to guide.
In the midst of the town the run
ended in the inevitable buck, and
thenceforth the fun waXed fast and /
furious. We were not mistaken in our ,
horse; the brute was all his looks in /
more. The battle only |
lasted some Is minutes, but in that |
short space of time he called into &C
cry, and threw himself into every
startling contortion that horse anatomy |
permits of. He bucked straight and |
and turned, and FELL and !
reared, and kicked, squealing again i
and again in that fierce, unholy man
ner, I'LL IL seemed Impossible tndt the |
plucky red-haired rider could longer |
endure the awful back wrenching |
strain. A fall, too, meant death, for |
the horse would have slaShed him be-
fore he touched ground or struck him
with front feet as he lay. During the
first, II or IA minutes of the fight that
boys life was not worth the value of |
a cigarette. Between rage and fear
the horse was stark mad, and had there
been the sign of an opening, it would
have leapt headlong into the reputed
inferno a half mile below
The plain, straightaTay bucI1ing of
him was in itself something to wonder
at. He seemed to go second-story high
each time, and when just at the apex of
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