Leaving for a moment the personal characteristics of the much-maligned cowboy, who has been described as everything from a stage-robber to a cutthroat, we may with profit devote a little space to a consideration of his attire as it was, and as it is. In the picture of a cowboy in this work the modern dress is shown very accurately. It will be seen that the man is dressed conveniently for his work, and that he has none of the extraordinary handicaps to progress, in the way of grotesque decorations, which he had been thought to believe were, at least, part and parcel of the cowboy's wardrobe and get up. Certainly at the present time men engaged in feeding and raising cattle are almost indifferent as to their attire, wearing anything suitable for their purpose, and making their selections rather with a view to the durability, than the handsomeness, of the clothing.
The Cowboy as He Is
But in years gone by, there was almost as much fashion changing among the men on the prairie as among the woman in the drawing-room. At the close of the war the first of the arbitrary dictates of fashion went out. A special form of stirrup was introduced. It was very narrow and exceedingly inconvenient, but it was considered the right thing, and so everybody used it. Rawhide was used in place of lines, and homespun garments were uniform. Calfskin leggings, made on the prairie, with the hair on the outside, were first worn, and large umbrella-like straw hats came into use. A little later it was decided the straw hat was not durable enough for the purpose. When excited a cowboy frequently starts his horse with his hat, and when he is wearing a straw, four or five sharp blows knock out of the hat any semblance it may ever have had to respectability and symmetry. The wide brim woolen hat was declared to be the correct thing, and every one was glad of the change. The narrow stirrup gave place to a wider one, and the stirrup leather was shortened so as to compel the rider to keep his knees bent the whole time. The most important change in fashion twenty years ago, was the introduction of tanned leather leggings and of handsome bridles. Many a man now pays two or three months' wages for his bridle, and since the fashion came in, it is probable that many thousand dollars have been invested in ornamental headgear for prairie horses and ponies. A new saddle, as well as bow and tassel decorations, also came in at this period, and it is to be admitted that for a time exaggeration in clothing became general. It is an old joke on the prairie that the average man's hat costs him more than his clothes.
Many a cowboy earning $30.00 a month has spent three times that sum on his saddle alone. More than one man earning $25.00 a month has invested every cent of his salary in silver buckles for his strange looking hat. Equally extravagant is the average man as to his saddle, bridle, and even spurs and bit. Those who talk so much about the bad habits of these people, will hardly credit the fact that many a cowboy abstains from liquor and tobacco for an entire year at a stretch, simply because he wants to purchase some article of attire, which he thinks will make him the envy of the entire ranch.
The cow pony is worthy of as much attention and thought as the cowboy. It is often said that the latter is hard and cruel, and that he uses his pony roughly. This is far from being correct. Between the cowboy and his pet pony there is generally a bond of sympathy and a thorough understanding, without which the marvelous feats of horsemanship which are performed daily would be impossible. Perhaps in the preliminary breaking in of the pony there is more roughness than is quite necessary. At the same time, it should be remembered that to subdue an animal which was born on the prairie and has run wild to its heart's content, is not a very simple matter. The habit of bucking, which a Texas pony seems to inherit from its ancestors, is a very inconvenient one, and an expert rider from the East is perfectly helpless upon the back of a bucking pony. The way in which he mounts assures the animal at once that he is a stranger in those parts. A natural desire to unseat the daring stranger becomes paramount, and the pony proceeds to carry out the idea.
At first it moves quietly and the rider congratulates himself on having convinced the animal that resistance will be ill vain. But just as he begins to do this the animal gets down its head, arches up its back, something after the manner of an angry cat, leaps into the air and comes down on the ground with its four legs drawn together under it, perfectly stiff and straight. The rider seldom knows how it happened. He only knows that it felt as though a cannon ball had struck him, and that he fell off most ungracefully.
A pony never bucks viciously when a cowboy is riding it. It has learned by long experience that the process is distinctly unprofitable. Breaking in a pony and convincing it that the way of the transgressor is hard, is one of the difficulties of prairie life. When, however, it is once accomplished, an almost invaluable assistant has been secured. The staying powers of the cow pony are almost without limit. He will carry his master 100 miles in a day, apparently with very little fatigue. In point of speed he may not be able to compete with his better bred Eastern cousin, but in point of distance covered he entirely outclasses him. Assuming an easy gait within its powers of endurance, a pony of the prairie will keep it up almost indefinitely. At the end of a very long ride, the man is generally more fatigued than his steed. The latter, after being relieved of its saddle and bridle, rolls vigorously to get rid of the stiffness, and, after an hour or two, is apparently in as good condition as ever.
The charm connected with cowboy life is found in the disregard of strict rules of etiquette and ceremony, and in the amount of fun which is considered to be in place around the prairie fire. We have already seen that the wages paid to cowboys are, and always have been, very small. The hours that have to be worked, and the hardships that have to be encountered, seem to combine together to deter men from leading the life at all. We know that it does neither, and that it is seldom there is really any dearth of help on the prairie or among the cattle herds. The greatest delight is derived from jokes played at the expense of smart tenderfeet, who approach the camp with too much confidence in themselves. The commonest way of convincing the newcomer that he has made a mistake is to persuade him to ride an exceptionally fractious pony. The task is generally approached with much confidence, and almost invariably ends in grief. If the stranger can retain his seat and thus upset the rehearsed programme, the delight of the onlookers is even greater than their disappointment, and the newcomer is admitted at once into the good fellowship of the crowd.