reat danger from locoed cattle is, that they will begin to
tumble around in the midst of a herd and frighten their fellows into a
stampede.

As it can work such ruin, in order to avoid the danger of having their
animals locoed, the ranchmen, in those regions where the weed is
plentiful, hire men to search for it, cut it down, and destroy it. Of
these men who make their living in searching for the dreaded loco-weed
and destroying it wherever found were Big Billy, Little Billy, and
One-eyed Saylo.

One summer night John told Martha to get her guitar, while he saddled
Texas and his own pony for a ride. In a few moments they were galloping
over the prairie on their way to a cow-boy camp about three miles away.
When they reached it, they found all the five men, but one, rolled up
from top to toe in their tarpaulins, and asleep on the prairie. The one
who was awake welcomed them in effusive cow-boy style, and then with a
"Wake up, you-uns! Yar's John Fredding an' 'is little woman!" kicked
each of his sleeping companions into consciousness with his foot. They
were all glad to see John and Martha, for they knew them of old.

In the twinkling of an eye the smoldering fire was livened into a cheery
blaze, the visitors' ponies were picketed, and the men were grouped
around Martha and the fire. For a little while John talked business
with them; but, before long, one of the men arose and, deferentially
taking off his broad hat to Martha, asked her if she wouldn't give them
a "chune." The music of her guitar was indescribably sweet, there in the
little oasis of light in the prairie's desert of darkness, and for a
time the men sat silently, with their hands clasped about their knees,
enjoying it. Then she struck into a rollicking cow-boy song, and they
joined in shouting it out. It is a favorite among the cow-boys of
southern Texas, and begins thus:

I'd rather hear a rattler rattle,
I'd rather do a Greaser battle,
I'd rather buck stampeding cattle,
Than
Than to
Than to fight
Than to fight the bloody In-ji-ans.

I'd rather eat a pan of dope,
I'd rather ride without a rope,
I'd rather from this country lope,
Than
Than to
Than to fight
Than to fight the bloody In-ji-ans.

After that came "I'm Gwine Back to Dixie," and "'Way Down Upon the
Suwanee River," and then John said it was time to start home again. Loud
were the protests of the cow-boys, and when John and Martha went, the
whole party went