Kansas agitator. [volume] (Garnett, Kan.) 1890-1905, 1901-06-28
sAs. h.art.sreak,ns period dia his lin.

most astonishing, not one supernuous
movement was made; he simply kept
on and on, each jump being alost semi
circular, that is, landing with his head
where his tail had started from, anu
vice versa.
This is what the cowpunchers call
changing ends, and 1t is not difficult
to imagine the effect of such pro-
tracted merry-go-round sensation on
the rider. The bucking was neither
high nor fierce, but the strain Of that
continuous swirl must have been rack
ing. There was one slight variation
which the scrubby buckskin allowed
himself in his system, though this was
Of such nature as to be rather discon-
certing to rider with head already
far from steady. 1t was to turn in the
air after the usual fashion. but instead
of alighting on stiffened legs, to fall
clumsily on one side, the pony saving
himself by bending his foreleg back
under him. It was an ugly trick to
evade. and the black New Mexican
must have been clear grit to hold his
own SO long. His face grew pallid
and drawn, and after awhile his stom-
ach revolted..
At the close Of the second hour he
was helpless; his will was still in the
thing, but his body was limp and in
effective, and the blood slowly trickled
from his nose and ears. The pony
still worked with the monotonous reg
ularity Of steam exhaust, and the
end was unquestionably near.
When it came, the man was sprawled
to one side, and the horse immedi-
ately lapsed into his usual dropping
attitude Of watchful sleepiness. Some
Of us ran to assist Rawlins, who lay
just as he had fallen, too weak to rise
But he waved us back; his face was
malignant with shame and anger, and
distorted by pain; altogether, with the
pallor and the blood-streaked beard.
he was not an exhilarating sight. Roll
ing over to his side, he raised himself
partially on an elbow, and before we
could close on him had drawn his
Colts and fired. The big gun spoke
sharply, and with a moan that was al
most human the buckskin pony lurched
heavily to the ground.
We reached Rawlins in time to takt
the smoking revolver from his nerve.
less grasp; but as he fell back again,
l heard him mutter thickly: "There,
curse we, y mud-skinned hell-hound!
Yell wear no more men out!"
The PROSTATE broncho- busters
friends had taken him up, and Dillon
was in the midst of brilliant address,
awarding with much ornate language
the purse to Curlew, when an incident
in the form of anti-climax took the
floor from the speaker and wound up
the sport with hearty burst of good
natured reclamation.
I had the history of this incident
afterward. 1t seems that the boys OF
the town-the juveniles, I mean-had
organized and schemed to place an I'M
registered and unexpected entry in the
contest; and their scheme was emf
nently successful-and amusing. Tho
camp supported a little half-breed
youth Of about IL years, a marvel in
his love for and command over horses;
he must have been born and reared
upon their backs, so easily did he be-
come them. 1t was this urchin, Pc
dro by name. who was elected to rep
resent the younger faction, in the rid
ing. There was one difficulty that
would have baffled most boys; no bad
horse was forthcoming, but Pedro was
so extremely Indifferent as to the ma
ture or build of his mount that even
this was an easy adjustment. At the
extreme upper end Of the town was
butchers cow corral, and in it confined
bunch of cattle new from the range;
one of these, a great red and white
4-.year-old steer, was selected, and Pc
dro eagerly started on his ride to fame.
Dillon was getting we'll warmed ia
his much-prepared and patriotic ora.
ton, when Pedro and the frantic steer
appeared, rushing down the pitch from
the town above. There was an unre
strained howl from the assemblage, Il
which even Dillon Joined, and th
dirty, daredevil brat shot out an an.
swering grin from the careening bach
of his astonished steer. 1t was thina
to make the old gulch CULVER, with
laughter. Some one had dressed thu
boy especially for the game; he had on
a pair Of heavy fringed, full-sized
snaps, at least eight inches too long
for him, and only kept from entirely
covering his feet by the shanks Of
pair of huge Mexican spurs, all bells
and bangles. His impish face was sur
by 5-inch sombrero, a heavy
quirt in one hand and in the other
coil of rawhide lariat, which was
looped only over the steers horns.
And how that animal was twisting
himself, head down and tail up! But
the boy chung like barnacle, by what
means have no conjecture. 1t is we'll
known that a steer has no withers,
that he can buck through the cinches
of any saddle, and cowboy without
saddle is not formidable. Yet there
was that lean youth heather, hampered
I