Arizona Sketches [16]
the mountain, when it was possible to overtake and rope them; but if once started to running down hill it was not only unsafe to follow on horseback but in any event the cattle were certain to escape. Taking them by surprise seemed to bewilder them and before they could collect their scattered senses, so to speak, and scamper off, the work of capture was done.
Another adventure, which did not end so fortunately for met happened in the fall of I 887 when the country was yet comparatively new to the cattle business. I rode out one day in company with a cowboy to look after strays and, incidentally, to watch for any game that might chance to cross our path. We rode through seemingly endless meadows of fine gramma grass and saw the sleek cattle feeding on plenty and enjoying perfect contentment. Game, also, seemed to be abundant but very shy and as we were not particularly hunting that kind of stock, we forebore giving chase or firing at long range.
After riding about among the hills back of the Pinaleno ranch and not finding anything we concluded to return home. On starting back we separated and took different routes, going by two parallel ravines in order to cover more ground in our search. I had not gone far until I found the cattle we were looking for going to water on the home trail. Jogging on slowly after them and enjoying the beauty of the landscape, I unexpectedly caught a glimpse of a deer lying down under a mesquite tree on the brow of a distant hill. I was in plain sight of the deer, which was either asleep or heedless of danger as it paid no attention whatever to my presence.
Deer and antelope soon become accustomed to horses and cattle and often mix and feed familiarly with the stock grazing on the open range. The deer did not change its position as I quietly rode by and out of sight behind the hill. There I dismounted and stalked the quarry on foot, cautiously making my way up the side of the hill to a point where I would be within easy shooting distance. As I stood up to locate the deer it jumped to its feet and was ready to make off, but before it could start a shot from my Winchester put a bullet through its head, and it scarcely moved after it fell. The deer was in good condition and replenished our depleted ranch larder with some choice venison steaks. The head, also, was a fine one the horns being just out of velvet and each antler five pointed, was saved and mounted.
The shot and my lusty halloo soon brought my cowboy friend to the spot. Together we eviscerated the animal and prepared to pack it to camp on my horse. As we were lifting it upon his back the bronco gave a vicious kick which hit me in the left knee and knocked me down. The blow, though severe, glanced off so that no bone was broken. What made the horse kick was a mystery as he was considered safe and had carried deer on other occasions. But a bronco, like a mule, is never altogether reliable, particularly as to the action of its heels. With some delay in getting started and in somewhat of a demoralized condition we mounted and rode home.
Soon after the accident I had a chill which was followed by a fever and there was much pain and swelling in the knee that was hit. A ranch house, if it happens to be a "stag camp" as ours was, is a cheerless place in which to be sick, but everything considered, I was fortunate in that it was not worse. By the liberal use of hot water and such other simples as the place afforded I was soon better; but not until after several months' treatment at home did the injured knee fully recover its normal condition.
The excitement of running cattle or hunting game on the open range in those days was mild in comparison to the panicky feeling which prevailed during every Indian outbreak. The experience of many years had taught the people of Arizona what to expect at such a time and the utter diabolical wickedness of the Apaches when out on the warpath. During the early eighties many such raids occurred which were accompanied by all the usual horrors of brutality and outrage of which
Another adventure, which did not end so fortunately for met happened in the fall of I 887 when the country was yet comparatively new to the cattle business. I rode out one day in company with a cowboy to look after strays and, incidentally, to watch for any game that might chance to cross our path. We rode through seemingly endless meadows of fine gramma grass and saw the sleek cattle feeding on plenty and enjoying perfect contentment. Game, also, seemed to be abundant but very shy and as we were not particularly hunting that kind of stock, we forebore giving chase or firing at long range.
After riding about among the hills back of the Pinaleno ranch and not finding anything we concluded to return home. On starting back we separated and took different routes, going by two parallel ravines in order to cover more ground in our search. I had not gone far until I found the cattle we were looking for going to water on the home trail. Jogging on slowly after them and enjoying the beauty of the landscape, I unexpectedly caught a glimpse of a deer lying down under a mesquite tree on the brow of a distant hill. I was in plain sight of the deer, which was either asleep or heedless of danger as it paid no attention whatever to my presence.
Deer and antelope soon become accustomed to horses and cattle and often mix and feed familiarly with the stock grazing on the open range. The deer did not change its position as I quietly rode by and out of sight behind the hill. There I dismounted and stalked the quarry on foot, cautiously making my way up the side of the hill to a point where I would be within easy shooting distance. As I stood up to locate the deer it jumped to its feet and was ready to make off, but before it could start a shot from my Winchester put a bullet through its head, and it scarcely moved after it fell. The deer was in good condition and replenished our depleted ranch larder with some choice venison steaks. The head, also, was a fine one the horns being just out of velvet and each antler five pointed, was saved and mounted.
The shot and my lusty halloo soon brought my cowboy friend to the spot. Together we eviscerated the animal and prepared to pack it to camp on my horse. As we were lifting it upon his back the bronco gave a vicious kick which hit me in the left knee and knocked me down. The blow, though severe, glanced off so that no bone was broken. What made the horse kick was a mystery as he was considered safe and had carried deer on other occasions. But a bronco, like a mule, is never altogether reliable, particularly as to the action of its heels. With some delay in getting started and in somewhat of a demoralized condition we mounted and rode home.
Soon after the accident I had a chill which was followed by a fever and there was much pain and swelling in the knee that was hit. A ranch house, if it happens to be a "stag camp" as ours was, is a cheerless place in which to be sick, but everything considered, I was fortunate in that it was not worse. By the liberal use of hot water and such other simples as the place afforded I was soon better; but not until after several months' treatment at home did the injured knee fully recover its normal condition.
The excitement of running cattle or hunting game on the open range in those days was mild in comparison to the panicky feeling which prevailed during every Indian outbreak. The experience of many years had taught the people of Arizona what to expect at such a time and the utter diabolical wickedness of the Apaches when out on the warpath. During the early eighties many such raids occurred which were accompanied by all the usual horrors of brutality and outrage of which