Ranching in the Bad Lands. u 



Lands make a good cattle country, for there is plenty of 

 nourishing grass and excellent shelter from the winter 

 storms. The cattle keep close to them in the cold 

 months, while in the summer time they wander out on the 

 broad prairies stretching back of them, or come down to 

 the river bottoms. 



My home ranch-house stands on the river brink. 

 From the low, long veranda, shaded by leafy cotton- 

 woods, one looks across sand bars and shallows to a strip 

 of meadowland, behind which rises a line of sheer cliffs 

 and grassy plateaus. This veranda is a pleasant place 

 in the summer evenings when a cool breeze stirs along 

 the river and blows in the faces of the tired men, who loll 

 back in their rocking-chairs (what true American does not 

 enjoy a rocking-chair?), book in hand though they do 

 not often read the books, but rock gently to and fro, 

 gazing sleepily out at the weird-looking buttes opposite, 

 until their sharp outlines grow indistinct and purple in the 

 after-glow of the sunset. The story-high house of hewn 

 logs is clean and neat, with many rooms, so that one can 

 be alone if one wishes to. The nights in summer are cool 

 and pleasant, and there are plenty of bear-skins and buffalo 

 robes, trophies of our own skill, with which to bid defiance 

 to the bitter cold of winter. In summer time we are not 

 much within doors, for we rise before dawn and work 

 hard enough to be willing to go to bed soon after night- 

 fall. The long winter evenings are spent sitting round 

 the hearthstone, while the pine logs roar and crackle, and 

 the men play checkers or chess, in the fire light. The 

 rifles stand in the corners of the room or rest across the 



