MILLING WITH THE NIGHT HERD 



go, he remembered he had a broken bone in his band- 

 aged right wrist, having been thrown the afternoon be- 

 fore from Sharkey the bull. 



Time and again the cowboy toreadors seem to escape 

 the mad charges by a hair's breadth, making skilful 

 use of the red serapes which flipped and snapped in 

 the melee. Rip! the tenderfoot is caught on a horn 

 and tossed aside; but it was only the chamois skin of 

 his jerkin and not his own hide which is torn. Each 

 is ever ready to attract the steer from or go to the 

 help of a comrade when necessary. 



Charging, the beast heads for a retreating cowboy, 

 who springs suddenly to one side amongst the scant- 

 lings of the bleachers. The steer plunges on and sud- 

 denly is lost to view in the dark corner where the 

 bleachers join the eastern end of the town. You can 

 hear the clatter of hoofs on boards even above the din 

 of spectators but only the two toreadors nearest in his 

 wake disappear after him at increased speed. 



The previous number on the program you recall was 

 a beautiful, dramatic spectacle of a dance of mountain 

 nymphs in the hill scenery above the town, staged by 

 a bevy of pretty Pendleton girls. The two cowboys 

 know that these young women are about to shift their 

 scenery in the dressing room for something more sub- 

 stantial ; they know only too well that the board walk 

 terminates in this room beneath the bleachers toward 

 which the steer is heading. 



Their worst fears are realized, for the steer does 

 not stop to knock. Into the room, of none too ample 

 dimensions, in the midst of Diana and her maidens, 

 he bolts. For a moment clothes, draperies, chairs and 

 tables are brought into play in a swirl of which the 

 steer is the vortex. Some courageously wield the 



s 113 



