TREE HERITAGE 



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freeze again in the form of icicles as it trickled over the 

 edge. How many beavers were inside I never knew, but 

 their dam had flooded about twelve acres of meadows 

 in the upper reaches of the Creek. 



Day after day, in the Spring of the year, I would sit 

 on a gang plough, breaking virgin prairie with a six- 

 horse team. For blankets I traded green cayuses from 

 the Indians, broke them in and made them quiet to ride 

 and drive. These were my broncho-busting days which 

 provided many excitements. Once, when calling upon 

 a farmer who had just had a round-up and had corralled 

 a hundred and fifty wild horses that had been ranging 

 on the prairie, a challenge came to me. One of the bunch 

 of mustangs had given the cow-punchers the slip, hav- 

 ing taken a seven-foot corral at a standing jump. For 

 two days much time had been wasted in trying to catch 

 the beast. He was a beautiful creature to look at, with 

 splendid action. Pointing him out to me the rancher 

 said, "Say boy, if you can ride him, you can have him as 

 a present." I eventually got him lassoed and tied up to 

 the corral, pitched my stock saddle on his back which 

 was immediately bucked clean into the air. I picked it 

 up and again pitched it on his back, only this time I 

 cinched it up, took him out into the stubble and pre- 

 pared to mount. I had no sooner got my left foot in 

 the stirrup and was swinging myself into the saddle 

 when he gave a terrific forward and sideways buck, 

 sending me flying, smashing the bit on the off side and 

 leaving me with one line in my hand. After getting him 



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