THE ROUND-UP 



The Round-Up means more than a great, hazardous, 

 thrilling spectacle. Old men — yes, and old women — 

 looked out through a mist of years and read between 

 the lines of this page, torn from a chapter of the Old 

 West, the struggles of a life which formed an im- 

 portant part in the making of our Nation. By the 

 stranger and the young too, the story is read, more 

 vividly than any brush can paint or pen describe. For 

 three days they had "let 'er buck." For three days 

 Pendleton had lived in the full spirit of the open, brave 

 humor - loving, dauntless, empire - winning, nation- 

 holding, riding, fighting generation of the clean men 

 and women of the Great West. 



I stood beside a silent figure on a silent horse : "Old 

 Hank" Caplinger looked wistfully toward the night- 

 dimmed skyline. Perhaps a phantom of the days gone 

 by blurred the scene for the old scout, and he saw the 

 old range just before the night herder sings to his 

 herd, and perhaps he saw 



Ten thousand cattle straying, 



As the rangers sang of old, 

 The warm chinook's delaying, 



The aspen shakes with cold, 

 Ten thousand herds are passing, 



So pass the golden years, 

 Behind us clouds are massing, 



Like the last of the old frontiers. 



A little distance away, under the hush of blue night 

 which pervades everything, the camp-fires of the Uma- 

 tillas glow red among their lodges, within which dimly 

 silhouette the shadow forms of the red-skinned inhabi- 

 tants. They, too, have lived again in the open the 

 marvelous, color- reeking carnival of their race. Their 



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