B. J.—Well, Slim, you had better take a cold drink before you start, or make arrangements to have some one throw you a bottle of water, as the old pony will throw you so high that you may die of thirst before you come down.
S. J.—Never mind! I’ll take that drink after the job is done. Let’s go and get busy.
By this time quite a crowd had collected and set out to see the fun. I joined them for the same purpose. It was but a short distance to Cox’s corral. When we arrived there, Slim said to Jack, “Go in and rope your old dry land turtle. Bring him out here and I’ll see what I can do for him.”
Jack went in and pitched his rope on a sleepy-looking, pot-bellied, dun-colored pony that would weigh in the neighborhood of eight hundred pounds, and led him into the street. Slim procured his saddle, bridle, and blanket, and proceeded to saddle him. He first put on the bridle and then put a gunny-sack over it. The purpose of this was to blindfold him till the saddling was complete. When the saddling began, Old Gabe stood perfectly quiet, except to take a few short steps, apparently to make sure that all of his four feet and legs were there. As soon as he was saddled, Slim said to Jack, “When I crawl his hump, you take off the gunny-sack and I will take a little ride.” As soon as the sack was removed, Old Gabe put his nose to the ground and went to bucking and bawling like an old cow. He bucked about six or eight rods, but found he could not throw Slim in that manner. Then he stood straight up on his hind feet and fell over backwards. As soon as he struck the ground, Slim was standing beside him. When he regained his feet Slim was on his back, and then the bucking and bawling began in earnest. He did the figure eight several times, jumped up and turned half-way ’round and repeated the same, going in the opposite direction, alternately. When he found that this was not successful he headed for an alley close by, bucking and bawling all the time. He worked like a cyclone among a lot of oil barrels and dry goods boxes, wheel-barrows, and obstacles of all kinds that littered the alley. He drove his way through that strange assortment of difficulties until he reached the open street. Then Slim, by means of the application of spurs and quirt got him into a gallop. Then I knew that the battle was over and Old Gabe had met his master. Slim rode back to the crowd and dismounted, and he and Jack went over to Kelly’s to collect the wager. Then the bantering was continued, as follows:
B. J.—Well, Slim, how does it go?
S. J.—Oh, not bad. I guess I’ll take that cold drink you spoke of. I feel a little thirsty.
B. J.—Yes, and I reckon you feel a little bit sore, too.
S. J.—Oh, shucks! he was a little bit fussy, but he is nothing like those outlaw horses on the 81 ranch.