Rob threw the sawbuck pack-saddle on top of the padded blanket.
“Cinch tight—that’s half in packing, to have the saddle firm.”
And, following Uncle Dick’s instruction, Rob made the cinch as tight as he could.
“Now get on the off side,” said Uncle Dick; “and Jesse, you watch us, how we work. You can all help if you want to.
“Are your sling-ropes all ready, Rob?” he inquired next. “Of course, you see, the sling-ropes simply act like baskets on each side the pack-saddle. They only support, and don’t make fast.
“Now then, up with your side packs into your sling-ropes—so—that’s all right. Then the top pack on over the saddle, fitting well between the two side packs. Shake them all down so to fit tight together. Now throw the canvas cover over the top, and see that nothing is where it will get busted when you cinch up.
“There, now, that’s all right as far as it goes. Next we come to the one part of packing more important than anything else. It is the hitch which holds everything together. We’re going to throw the diamond hitch now. Without that, folks couldn’t have settled this western country or built railroads over the Rockies, maybe.”
“Who first invented the diamond hitch, Uncle Dick?” queried Rob.
“Nobody knows, but it’s Spanish, that’s sure, and not Canadian. It got up this far north on both sides of the Rockies, brought by miners and packers of all colors and nationalities. Originally it came from Mexico, and it came there from Spain, and perhaps it came to Spain from northern Africa—who knows?—along with the cow-horse itself.”
“But they don’t always throw it the same way.”