122 The Wilderness Hunter 



horsemen. Soon after nightfall we lay down, in a 

 log hut or tent, if at a line camp ; under the open sky, 

 if with the round-up wagon. 



After ten days or so of such work, in which every 

 man had to do his full share for laggards and 

 idlers, no matter who, get no mercy in the real and 

 healthy democracy of the round-up I would go 

 back to the ranch to turn to my books with added 

 zest for a fortnight. Yet even during these weeks 

 at the ranch there was some outdoor work; for I 

 was breaking two or three colts. I took my time, 

 breaking them gradually and gently, not, after the 

 usual cowboy fashion, in a hurry, by sheer main 

 strength and rough riding, with the attendant dan- 

 ger to the limbs of the man and very probable ruin 

 to the manners of the horse. We rose early; each 

 morning I stood on the low-roofed veranda, look- 

 ing out under the line of murmuring, glossy-leaved 

 cottonwoods, across the shallow river, to see the 

 sun flame above the line of bluffs opposite. In the 

 evening I strolled off for an hour or two's walk, 

 rifle in hand. The roomy, home-like ranch house, 

 with its log walls, shingled roof, and big chimneys 

 and fireplaces, stands in a glade, in the midst of the 

 thick forest, which covers half the bottom ; behind 

 rises, bare and steep, the wall of peaks, ridges, and 

 tablelands. 



During the summer in question, I once or twice 

 shot a whitetail buck right on this large bottom; 



