"Bully!" responded McIntyre; "that'll make it a whole lot plainer."
For a moment Joe and Vicente spoke together in Spanish, and then Joe turned to the others.
"All right," he said; "here goes:
"It seems that Vicente's uncle was riding through some thick willows in a wet place on a ranch in California, when suddenly he felt his horse stagger and heard the sound of a slap. He knew that a bear had hit at him and missed him, and hit the horse, and the horse went flying out of the willows into the open grass with the bear charging at his heels. His uncle slowed down a little and let the bear get pretty close, bending off toward a low, stout willow that grew alone. When he got nearly up to it he dodged a little to one side, stopped his horse, and as the bear passed, roped him by one hind leg and, riding half a dozen times around this willow, drew the bear up close to the tree. Of course, the bear was biting at his hind foot all the time, trying to get rid of the rope. Vicente's uncle tied the end of the rope to an outside limb; then riding up close to the bear in front—of course it was making desperate efforts to get at the man—he threw his hair rope over the bear's neck, fastened it to his saddle-horn and backed his horse off so as to hold the bear. Then the man got off his horse, took off his silk sash, went around behind the bear which was held by the horse, and tied his hind legs together behind the tree. That was all there was to it."
"Gosh, that was enough!" exclaimed Jack Mason. "We don't know anything about what those old fellows used to do with horses and cattle and bears."
"That's so," drawled Vicente. "In those times they often sent out a man alone to kill and butcher a steer and bring it in to camp. Pretty dangerous, all of it; but the vaquero must not be afraid."
[CHAPTER XXII]
HUNTING WITH A SIX-SHOOTER
The round-up was over and the representatives of the various brands had started off in different directions toward their home ranches, taking with them the few cattle that had been gathered during these last days. With the Sturgis party went also Jack Mason, whom McIntyre had engaged only for the round-up, and who was beginning to get uneasy and to long to resume his wandering life. When he paid him off, McIntyre said to Mason that he would be glad to have him work on the ranch for the rest of the season, and even hinted that he would give him a job for the winter, but to these proposals Mason shook his head, laughingly, and declared that his steady job had lasted long enough and that now he was going to make a little trip.