Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1927-03-18

nothin' but Longrope's singin'; he's easy
three hundred yards across the herd from
me, but | can hear every World
Sam Bass was born in ~lnjiana,
1t was his native home,
Twas at the age of seventeen
Young Sam began to roam.
He first went out to Texas,
A cowboy for to be;
A better hearted Teller
You'd seldom ever see.'
'It's so plain 1t sounds like he's singin'
in my ear; | can even hear the click -clack
of his spun chains against his stirrups
when he moves round, an the cricket in
his bit-he's usin' one of them hollow con
choed half breeds-she comes plain to me
In the stiffness. Once there's a steer layin'
He's takin' long draws of the air like he's
nosin' for something. | don't like this, it's
a bad sign; 1t shows he's layin' for trouble,
an all he needs is some little excuse.
A Dry Herd
"Now every steer, when he beds down,
holds his breath for a few seconds, then
blows off: that noise Is all right an shows
he's settlin' himself for comfort. But when
he curls his nose an makes them long
draws It's a sign he's snlnin' for some
thing, an If anything crosses his wird that
he don't like there's liable to be trouble.
I've seen dry trail herds mighty thirsty,
layin' good till a breeze springs off the
water, maybe ten miles away; they start
~snifin', ar the minute they get the wind
you could comb Texas an wouldn't have
enough punchers to turn EN- till they wet
their feet an fill the %paunches.
II get tired sittin' there starin' at moth
in so start ridin' round. Now it's sure
dark when animals can't see, but | tell you
by the way my boss moves he's feelin' his
| way, but | don't blame him none; It's like
lookin' III a black pot. Sky an ground all
tn esame, an | amt gone twenty-five yards
till / hear cattle gettin' up around me
I'm in the herd an it's luck I'm singin'
an they don's get scared. Pullin' to the
left | work cautious an easy till I'm clear
of the bunch. Ridin's useless, so ! flop my
weight over on one stirrup an go on
singin'.
"The lightnin' IS quit now an she's
darker than ever; the breeze has died down
an it's hotter than the hubs of hell: Above
my voice ] can hear Longrope. He's sing
In the Texas Ranger now; the Rangers
q long song an there few punchers that
knows 1T all, but Longrope's sprung a lot
of new verses on me an I'm Interested
Seems like he's ON about the twenty-ffth
verse, an there's danger of his chokin'
down, when there's a wbisperin' in the
grass behind me; it's a breeze sneakin' up,
1t flaps the tail Of my slicker an goes by
in another second she hits the herd. The
ground shakes an they're all runnin'. Ny
boss takes the scare with 'em an 8 Dustin
a hole in the darkness when he throws
both front feet In a badger hole, goin' to
his knees an plowin' his nose In the dirt
But he's a good night boss an g hard to
keep down. The minute he gets his feet
under him he raises, runnin' like a scared
wolf. Hearin' the roar behind him be
don't care to mix with them loeoed long
horns. / got my head turned over M
shoulder listenin', tryin' to make out which
way they're goin' when there's a fash OF
lightnin' busts a hole in the sky-it's one
of these kind that puts the fear of God IN
a man, thunder an all together. My boss
whirls an stops in his tracks, %spraddlin
out an squattin' like he's hit, an l car
feel his heart beatin' agin' my leg, while
mines poundin' my ribs like it1l bus
through. We're both plenty scared.
The Storm Breaks
This flash lights up the whole country
givin' me a glimpse of the herd runnin &
poundin' on my hat. THE storm has brok,
now for sure with the lightnin' bombardin
US at every jump. Once a fash shows mt
Longrope, ghostly in his wet slicker. He's
so close to me that l could hit him witt
my quirt an | hollers to him. =
This is hell
Yes he yells back above the roar; q
off,
II can tel, by the noise that they're
runnin' straight; there amt no clickin' Of
a buzz-saw, only a thousand times louder
There's no use In tryin' to turn 'em in this
darkness, so I'm ridin' wide-just herdin
by ear an ~follerin' the noise. Pretty soor
my ears tell me they're crowdin' an comm
together; the next flash shows 'em al
millin, with heads damned together an
horns locked; some's rared up ridin' Others
an these is s%quirmin' like bristled snakes
In the same light ! see Longrope. an
from the blink ] get of him he's among
EN- too close for safety, an In the darl
| thought | saw a gun fash three times