ON A CATTLE-RANGE 287 



ponies, were at work, and it was a treat to watch 

 them. Chico, the Pick foreman, half Mexican, half 

 westerner, was a trifle slower than his rival, Charley 

 Smith ; but he seldom missed the hind-leg hitch, which 

 meant lighter work for the boys who threw the 

 calves for the branders at the fire. Charley Smith, a 

 long-legged, powerful rider of the ideal cowboy type, 

 was less particular how he roped his calves. Some- 

 times by neck and fore-leg, or by neck alone, they 

 were dragged reluctant and kicking to their fate, and 

 this meant a prolonged struggle for the boys at the 

 fire before the animal was thrown and the brand and 

 earmark duly applied. It is no light task to throw a 

 stout range six- months bull calf, requiring not only 

 strength, but knack. 



Presently Frank Earnest, our manager, climbed up 

 on the eight-foot log-fence beside me. 



4 Charley Smith seems a good hand with the rope,' 

 I remarked. 



' There's not a broncho in Carbon County he won't 

 ride,' replied Frank, c nor a steer on the range he can't 

 throw single-handed, I guess. But,' he continued, 

 after a pause, ' maybe he's a bit too well fixed for 

 this outfit.' 



' What do you mean ?' said I. 



4 Wai,' drawled Frank, ' I reckon he owns a brand 

 to draw to, and we've no use for that kind of puncher 

 any more. But, say,' he went on, ' we'll talk of that 

 when we get to Sand Creek. I've a thirst just now 

 that money won't buy.' 



No more was said on the subject for the time 

 being. The work of branding was duly finished, and 

 the thirst of manager and cowboys was for the 

 moment quenched. 



