“‘Put your feet in the stirrups,’ said Mr. Wilson, ’an I’ll give him a good send off.’”
Before Guy could obey the horse begun his antics. He put his head down between his knees, humped up his back, brought his four feet together, and bounded from the ground, coming down as solid as a rock, and with a concussion that was terrific. Guy arose in the air about a foot and a half, and then settled into the saddle again with a jar that fairly made his teeth chatter.
“Ha, ha!” laughed the ranchman, who appeared to be as highly delighted as he would have been over an exhibition of fancy riding in a circus; “that was well done! He bucks beautiful, don’t he?”
“Ye—yes,” said Guy, who had not the least idea what Mr. Wilson meant. “But why don’t he go ahead? Get up here!”
The horse did get up—this time higher than before—and he executed the movement with a vigor and viciousness which showed that he meant business. He made a most terrific stiff-legged jump—a “buck,” Mr. Wilson called it—and when he came down, Guy, with his arms and legs flying wildly about, went up like a rocket, hung suspended in the air for a moment, and then whirled over and came down on his head and shoulders with a crushing force.
“Wal, I declar! he got you off’n him that time, didn’t he?” exclaimed the ranchman, hastening to Guy’s assistance. “Now I’ll try him, an’ if you will keep an eye on me I’ll larn you how to ride a buck-jumper.”
Guy was too nearly senseless to keep an eye on anything. He could not stand without holding fast to something. Mr. Wilson leaned him up, against the side of the corral as if he had been a stick of wood, and then addressed an order in Spanish to his vaquero, who hurried off to the house, presently returning with a pair of huge Mexican spurs. These, with the assistance of the Indian, the ranchman quickly fastened to his feet, and walking up to the horse, which had scarcely moved from his tracks since he rid himself of Guy, placed one hand on his back, and with a quick bound, sprung into the saddle. No sooner was he fairly seated than he brought his armed heels against the sides of the animal, which sprung away at the top of his speed, and the last Guy saw of him, he was making rapid headway across the plain, while his rider was urging him to greater efforts by merciless applications of his persuaders.
When the ranchman returned, at the end of a quarter of an hour, he found his new hand stretched out on the porch, suffering from a severe headache, and in no humor to listen to his description of the manner in which he had conquered the buck-jumper.
Guy had been hungry a few minutes before, but he did not want any supper now. The tortillas, beans and beef, with which the table was loaded, had no attraction for him; he simply drank a cup of coffee, without any milk (ranchmen in California raise cattle for the hides and meat, and not for the sake of milk and butter), and intimated to Mr. Wilson that he would be glad to be shown to his room.