East Oregonian : E.O. (Pendleton, OR) 1888-current, 1913-12-31
BY w. c. E. PRUITT

people while Bear Cat IL trying his
best to unload his rider? No. Well.
l have. There is not one discordant
note. The entire yell Is one beauti-
full and harmonious whole. Under
those circumstances and conditions
everybody yells II just exactly alike.
They may talk different, even diff
ferent languages. they may live diff
ferent, look different and act differ
ent but they yell that Let 'er buck"
just like the cave man yelled thous-
ands Of years ago.
A Classic of the Plains.
For fear that some of you who
read this may be so unfortunate as
never to have witnessed a Roundup
and you may expire on the way here
next year, 1 am going to tell you
what the Roundup is. 1t is the
grand opera of the sage brush plains
the bunch grass hills. and the green
robed, snow crowned mountains. Il
didn't steal that from Lord Byron
either. } 1t has its Carusos and It's
Melbas, It's Weber and Fields. 1t has
its high C's and countless -fathoms-
deep bass. Its score is as varied a
the myriad windings OF the jack rab
bit paths and its liberatto Is from
the trails Of the riders. the Indians
and all those who have come and
gone so many years back and forth
across this trackless west. The Chi
nook plaintively begging for water,
thrusting tbs warm cheek against your
cold face and singing gleefully over
the snow as 1t sucks 1t up with its
parched lips Is but an accompaniment
to the aria which goes thrilling and
trilling In rich cadences through this
opera. The song of the lonesome
trails, the music of the great stiffness,
the ballads of the night hawk as he
sings to quiet his restless charges,
the clank of the spurs the swish Of
the lariat and the burning sting of
the hondo are all part of this mas
terpiece of human emotion while for
its diapison 1t has the thunder of the
stampede and the roar Of the desert
winds and storms. 1t is altogether
one OF the greatest operas of the
world and in every heart that beats
with love of the west there Is to
be found the notes and musiC of this
song. They sing 1t as naturally as
child cries.
The Roundup is known the world
over as the greatest festival of its
kind In the language of the critics
1t Is the show with punch, And
when you come to analyze it you do
not wonder so much that this is true
as you wonder that there were not
Round-ups before Pendleton put on
the first exhibition In 1910. For
never since the swadling infant of
, the human race fell out of It's cradle
had there been the opportunity for
testing just how far the civilized man
would revert to primitive man and
first causes as the old west offered
And the result has been one OF the
happiest, most lovable, jolly, good
natured. eccentric and amusing in
dividuals that history can boast of,
the western cowboy He is type.
not only locally but historically. Fred
erick Remington has painted him on
canvas, Owen Wister has depicted
him in print and the world has
thrown open It's arms and taken him
to its bosom with tears of JOY and
mirth. He is peculiar in some char
acteristics but he Is the man who In
vented the new angle of looking a,
life with both eyes shut and seeing
everything worth seeing.
And long before Buffalo Bill got
half a notion of the popular side OF
this type the cowboy was producing
his grand opera twice a year regular
ly and he played to standing room
only for his roof was the unending
skies and his floor the rolling, un-
bounded plains. Out there in the
open with the breath of the desert
and plains tanning his bronze checks
he subjugated the outlaw. roped the
wild steer. branded the slick ears and
being well satisfied with his work
threw his head back and like the
cave man yelled "Let 'er buck"
That people will travel across the
continent TO see a Roundup simply
means that they feel that old first
principle stirring within them, the
old call OF the wild. They feel their
blood stirring and the spirit whispers