will be children. We swore awful, still we wouldn't have
missed their company for a fair-sized farm.

"And now comes in the first little twist of the Big Bend Ranch,
proper--all these things I'm telling you were the eggs. Here's where
the critter pipped.

"'Twas November, and such a November as you don't get outside of Old
Dakota, a regular mint-julep of a month, with a dash of summer, a sprig
of spring, a touch of fall, and a sniff or two of winter to liven you
up. If you'd formed a committee to furnish weather for a month, and
they'd turned out a month like that, not even their best friends would
have kicked. And here we'd been makin' hay, and makin' hay, the ranch
people thanking Providence that prairie grass cures on the stem, while
we cussed, for we were sick of the sight of hay. I got so the rattle
of a mower give me hysterics. We were picked because we were steady
and reliable, but one day we bunched the job. Says I, 'Here; we've cut
grass for four solid months, includin' Sundays and legal holidays,
although the Lord knows where they come in, for I haven't the least
suspicion what day of the month it may be, but anyhow, let's knock off
one round.'

"So we did. I sat outside in the afternoon, while the other two boys
and the rest of the family took a snooze. Here comes a man across the
south flat a-horseback.

"I watched him, much interested: first place, he was the first strange
human animal we'd laid eye on for six weeks; next place, his style of
riding attracted attention. I thought at the time he must have
invented it, him being the kind of man that hated horses, and wanted to
keep as far away from them as possible, yet forced by circumstances to
climb upon their backs."

[Illustration: His style of riding attracted attention.]

"His mount was a big American horse, full sixteen hand high, trotting
in twenty-foot jumps. If I had anything against a person, just short
of killing, I'd tie him on the back of a horse trotting like that.
It's a great gait to sit out. Howsomever, this man didn't sit it out;
what he wanted of a saddle beyond the stirrups was a mystery, for he
never touched it. He stood up on his stirrups, bent forward like he
was going to bite the horse in the ear, soon's the strain got
unendurable.

"Well, here he come, straight for us. I'd a mind to wake the other
boys up, to let 'em see something new in the way of mishandling a
horse, but they snored so peaceful. I refrained.