Free Wild Cow Tales by Ben K. Green Page B

was about the right size and tied on to it and drug it with my horse back down close to the bull.
    The log was just about all a good saddle horse could drag to the saddle horn. By this time this mountain bull was sure mad. He had already pawed a good-size hole around the bottom of the tree, but he hadn’t learned to turn and go the other way, which would’ve gotten him unwound from the first tree. I untied the rope from around the tree, keepin’ an eye on the bull, afraid he might untangle himself before I got ready for him to. I worked the end of the lariat rope under this big log andtied it between two knots on the log where I knew it wouldn’t slip off or come undone.
    I got back on my horse, took my other rope, and rode up to the bull and whipped him around with the other rope and drove him around the right direction of the tree about three times. When he thought he was loose he made a wild run at my horse, and when the slack took up between him and the log it was quite a shock to him. It was some satisfaction to me to think maybe I was smarter than the bull.
    This took a long time, and it was way past dinnertime. So I rode away and left the bull in a valley tied to a log and thought I would see what happened by tomorrow mornin’.
    After I ate a little late dinner, I changed horses and rode back to see about my bull. He had drug that log down into the valley and almost to Scotty Perth’s headquarters fence. As it was gettin’ late in the afternoon I didn’t go close to him I turned and went back to the camp for the night.
    The moon came up about three or four o’clock in the mornin’ and bawlin’ cattle waked me. A cowboy layin’ out in camp durin’ the night handlin’ wild cattle or bad horses don’t take off too many clothes when he goes to bed in cold weather. All I had to do was pull on my boots, buckle my belt, and reach for my jacket and hat and I was what some people would have called dressed.
    I saddled a horse called Mustang. He had no mustang blood in him, but he was one of the best horses that ever lived if you were in a tight with wild cattle or needed a good horse under you for any kind of a hard ride. When Icame in sight of the valley, it was still a little while to daylight, but it was a bright night and I could see what was goin’ on.
    This mad, bawlin’ bull had called his bunch of cows back to him, and the other bull that he was havin’ the fight with when I caught him. I couldn’t quite count the exact number but I knew there would be enough for a carload. I rode quiet and circled wide to the big double gates on the road. I opened them back and tied them to the fence where there would be no danger of them blowin’ to in case a wind came up.
    Today’s modern cowboys probably don’t know this, but cattle will drive better in bright moonlight than they will in the daytime because their vision at a distance lacks a little bit bein’ good enough to judge a rider’s position. And as long as they are movin’ from you and you don’t try to head ’em, they’ll bunch and drive together good.
    I circled around and came up on the east side of ’em. The gate was on the west. I didn’t make too much wild cowboy noises. I carried a bull whip tied on my saddle for just such occasions as this. I uncoiled the whip and cracked it in dull tones in the still night air. This was a noise that these cattle didn’t quite know about, and I stayed far enough away from ’em that they were movin’ west little by little as the two bulls fought and about as fast as the bull could drag his log.
    Just before sunup I had them bunched in a corner of the fence right in front of the double gate. As they began to drift out into the road without seemin’ to know it, I counted thirty-seven head. I shut the gates and had my cattle in the road, but I had to untie that bull from thelog if I was goin’ to drive him with the herd of cattle twenty miles to town.
    These cattle milled around in the road, and it was