ROPING WILD HOGS IN TEXAS. 



BY A. McCAMPBELL. 



On a bright sunny morning in 

 December Jack, Tom and I saddled 

 our horses at a ranch 25 miles 

 from Corpus Christi, Texas, and, 

 armed with shot guns, started for a 

 wate.r tank in the pasture where 

 geese collected by thousands. Five 

 miles out we came to a small motte, 

 or cluster of trees, in the great pas- 

 ture. As we entered the motte from 

 the North we saw 6 wild hogs leav- 

 ing it from the South side, a large 

 boar, 4 sows and a shoat. They 

 were game hogs, too, but not the 

 kind you are so fond of roasting. 



Someone suggested roping these 

 wild swine, and, of course, the idea 

 took ; so, leaning our guns against a 

 tree, we struck off in pursuit of the 

 drove. 



Tom being an experienced hog 

 hunter, we obeyed his instructions, 

 which were to run them down, and 

 then rope and tie them. By the way, 

 wild hogs captured and fed a short 

 time make the best bacon, affording 

 the proverbial "streak of lean and 

 streak of fat." 



We put spurs to our cayuses and 

 kept the hogs bunched, riding hard 

 on • their heels. Presently the shoat 

 began to lag. Tom threw his rope 

 over its head and without stopping 

 began to haul away, intending to lay 

 it across his pommel, tie its legs se- 

 curely, and then drop it to be picked 

 up by the wagon the next day ; it 

 being the custom at the ranch to send 

 out a wagon every year and bring in 

 about 20 hogs caught in this way. 



When the hoisting had gone on till 

 the pig came within reach of the 

 horse the pig grabbed a mouthful 

 of neck and held on like a bulldog. 

 The bronc was none of the gentlest 

 and began a cancan, waltzing, kick- 

 ing, rearing, and pitching. Tom 

 swore to beat the British army in 



Flanders, and pounded the hog with 

 fist and quirt to make it let go. 



The horse's desperate leaps shook 

 the hanging hog from one side of his 

 neck to the other, and at last he 

 dropped to the ground, taking with 

 him a mouthful of horse beef. 



Tom had taken the rope from the 

 shoat's neck and the prisoner of a 

 moment ago was then free to roam 

 the plains again. Tom made no ef- 

 fort to recover it, consoling himself 

 with the remark that "it was too 

 small to eat, anyway." 



I, having had no experience, was 

 told to rope a hog, then put my horse 

 to the gallop till the hog was nearly 

 choked to death, when I could easily 

 and safely dismount and catch him 

 by the legs. They said the horse 

 would keep the rope taut till I could 

 tie my prisoner. 



I caught a good sized sow, dragged 

 her, dismounted, caught her by the 

 hind legs, and held her on her back, 

 well stretched. She came to in a 

 short time and tried to regain her 

 feet, but I could manage her easily 

 enough until I undertook to tie her. 

 Then I had a whole circus on my 

 hands. The only rope I had was 

 around her neck at one end and fast 

 to the saddle at the other. To loosen 

 that would be to free the sow. 



In my quandary I looked around to 

 see what the other fellows were do- 

 ing. Tom had caught a sow, dragged 

 her a mile or so, and was in the act of 

 taking her by the hind legs. She, also, 

 came to, and kicked. She got up and 

 went at him with a "woof-woof." 

 Tom managed to get beyond the 

 length of her rope and was safe, but 

 the poor horse fared worse. Turning 

 suddenly the sow struck his forelegs 

 and stampeded him so that he started 

 for the ranch, 8 miles away, on a run. 

 His course lay across a bald prairie, 



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