ans which were covered, gleaned a
whole box of seeded raisins and some shredded cocoanut just to tease
him and retired to wrangle ostentatiously over their treasure trove in
the shade of the bed-tent, leaving Patsy to his anger and his empty
tins.

Other men straggled in, drifted with the tide of their appetites to
the cook-tent, hovered there briefly and retired vanquished and still
hungry. They invariably came over to the little group which was
munching raisins and cocoanut and asked accusing questions. What was
the matter with Patsy? Who had put him on the fight like that? and
other inquiries upon the same subject.

Just because they were all lying around camp with nothing to do but
eat, Patsy was late with his supper that night. It would seem that he
dallied purposely and revengefully, and though the Happy Family flung
at him taunts and hurry-up orders, it is significant that they shouted
from a distance and avoided coming to close quarters.

Just how and when they began their foolish little game of imitation
broncho-fighting does not matter. When work did not press and red
blood bubbled they frequently indulged in "rough-riding" one another
to the tune of much taunting and many a "Bet yuh can't pitch _me_
off!" Before supper was called they were hard at it and they quite
forgot Patsy.

"I'll give any man a dollar that can ride me straight up, by cripes!"
bellowed Big Medicine, going down upon all fours by way of invitation.

"Easy money, and mine from the start!" retorted Irish and immediately
straddled Big Medicine's back. Horses and riders pantingly gave over
their own exertions and got out of the way, for Big Medicine played
bronk as he did everything else: with all his heart and soul and
muscles, and since he was strong as a bull, riding him promised much
in the way of excitement.

"Yuh can hold on by my collar, but if yuh choke me down I'll murder
yuh in cold blood," he warned Irish before he started. "And don't yuh
dig your heels in my ribs neither, or I'm liable to bust every bone
yuh got to your name. I'm ticklish, by cripes!"

"I'll ride yuh with my arms folded if yuh say so," Irish offered
generously. "Move, you snail!" He struck Big Medicine spectacularly
with his hat, yelled at the top of his voice and the riding began
immediately and tumultuously.

It is very difficult to describe accurately and effectively the
evolutions of a horse when he "pitches" his worst and hardest. It is
still more d