At his belt had hung a lariat, placed there when the wagon train started, in case any of the animals should attempt to run off in the darkness.
The boomer could use a lariat as well as Clemmer or any of the cowboys. More than once, riding at full speed upon his mare, he had thrown the noose around any foot of a steer that was selected by those looking on.
He put his hand down to his waist and felt for the lariat. It was still there, and he brought it up and swung it over his head, to free it from the quicksand.
As has been stated, the belt of timber was not far away, the nearest tree being less than fifty feet from where he remained stuck.
Preparing the lariat, he threw the noose up and away from him. It circled through the air and fell over the nearest branch of the tree. Hauling it taut, Pawnee Brown tested it, to make sure it would not slip, and then began to haul himself up, as Rasco had done at the swamp hole.
It was slow work, and more than once he felt that the lariat would break, so great was the strain put upon it.
But it held, and a few minutes later Pawnee Brown found himself with somewhat cut hands, safe in the branches of the tree.
Winding up the lariat, he descended to the ground, and made a detour to where Bonnie Bird remained standing, and to where he had cast his pistol.
The mare and weapon secured, he continued on his way, but made certain to wander into no more quicksand spots.
"It was too narrow an escape for comfort," was the way in which Pawnee Brown expressed himself, when he told the story later.