LET 'ER BUCK 



soon has his rider "choking the horn" which is the 

 same thing as "choking the biscuit" or pulling leather, 

 that is, gripping the horn of the saddle or touching or 

 bracing on any part of the saddle. This disqualifies a 

 rider and is considered more of a disgrace than being 

 thrown. But this rider was thrown, — good and plenty, 

 with as neat a high dive feet soles up as a horse could 

 wish to see. 



"Sunnin' yer moccasins?" yelled an unfeeling spec- 

 tator whose slouch hat rim had been chewed into by 

 wood rats. 



A superb figure strides majestically, yet modestly 

 into the arena from the direction of the Indian tepees. 

 Every eye focuses on his tall, lithe, well-proportioned 

 body moving with all the mien and beauty of a Hia- 

 watha. As he approached the judges to draw from 

 the hat for the finals, this Nez Perce, nephew of the 

 great Chief Joseph, who had fought the paleface, 

 might well portray, Chief Massasoit, and the som- 

 breroed president and judges, Roger Williams and 

 his broad-hatted Puritan pioneers with whom Mass- 

 asoit made the first peace at Plymouth. But it was 

 Jackson Sundown, the Nez Perce, drawing for the 

 finals. Let me picture his ride of another year, for it 

 is one of the classics of the Round-Up. 



Four annual Round-Ups had seen Jackson Sundown 

 ride into the semi-finals, and in 1915 he had ridden 

 into the grand finals and pulled third money. Then the 

 Nez Perce went back to his ranch in Cul-de-sac, Idaho, 

 done with rough-riding and the Round-Up, for his 

 had been an eventful life and he had wintered fifty 

 snows. 



But the call of the gathering clans, as the next cycle 



200 



