said he, whereupon Law promptly volunteered his services.
"Lend me your rope, Benito, till I get another caballo."
"Eh? That Montrosa is the best cutting horse on Las Palmas."
But Dave shook his head vigorously. "I wouldn't risk her among those
gopher-holes." He slid out of his seat and, with an arm around the
mare's neck, whispered into her ear, "We won't have any broken legs and
broken hearts, will we, honey girl?" Rosa answered by nosing the
speaker over with brazen familiarity; then when he had removed her
equipment and turned away, dragging her saddle, she followed at his
heels like a dog.
"Diablo! He has a way with horses, hasn't he?" Benito grinned, "Now
that Montrosa is wilder than a deer."
Alaire rode into the herd with her foreman, while Dave settled his loop
over a buckskin, preparatory to joining the cowboys.
The giant herd milled and eddied, revolving like a vast pool of deep,
swift water. The bulls were quarrelsome, the steers were stubborn, and
the wet cows were distracted. Motherless calves dodged about in
bewilderment. In and out of this confusion the cowboys rode, following
the animals selected for separation, forcing them out with devious
turnings and twistings, and then running them madly in a series of
breakneck crescent dashes over flats and hummocks, through dust and
brush, until they had joined the smaller herd of choice animals which
were to remain on the ranch. It was swift, sweaty, exhausting work, the
kind these Mexicans loved, for it was not only spectacular, but held an
element of danger. Once he had secured a pony Dave Law made himself one
of them.
Alaire sat her horse in the heart of the crowding herd, with a sea of
rolling eyes, lolling tongues, and clashing horns all about her, and
watched the Ranger. Good riding she was accustomed to; the horses of
Las Palmas were trained to this work as bird dogs are trained to
theirs; they knew how to follow a steer and, as Ed Austin boasted,
"turn on a dime with a nickel to spare." But Law, it appeared, was a
born horseman, and seemed to inspire his mount with an exceptional
eagerness and intelligence. In spite of the man's unusual size, he rode
like a feather; he was grace and life and youth personified. Now he sat
as erect in his saddle as a swaying reed; again he stretched himself
out like a whip-lash. Once he had begun the work he would not stop.
All that afternoon the cowboys labored, and toward sundown the depleted
herd was d
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