Tall tales from Texas

by Mody C. Boatright

“Did you ever hear of a mountain-stem-winder?”

“No, I never heard of them, either.”

“Well, they’re really all one and the same thing, but the real true and correct name is gwinter.”

“And what sort of a beast is he?” asked Lanky.

“Well, he’s a grass-eatin’ quadruped,” said Joe, “something like a cross between a buffalo and a mountain-goat, only he’s a lot more ferocious. The peculiar thing about the gwinter is his legs. Instead of havin’ four legs of equal length like a critter ought to have, or two short legs in front and two long ones behind, like the glyptodont, these brutes have two long legs on the downhill side and two short legs on the uphill side. This is mighty convenient for ’em, since they don’t live on level ground nohow. Some of ’em has their right legs long, and some of ’em has their right legs short, dependin’ on which way they graze around the mountains. The Chisos and the Davis and the Guadalupe mountains used to be full of ’em. Up there, them critters was thicker than the buffalo or the antelope on the plains, but they’re gittin’ mighty scerce now. Still, they took off many a cow-hand in the early days, and sometimes yet a tenderfoot gits in the way of one of ’em and don’t come back home to the chuck wagon at night.

“If one of them critters ever starts toward you, Lanky, don’t for anything let him know you’re scered. If you try to run, he’ll git you shore. Jest stand there and look him right in the eye like you was glad to see him. He’ll be comin’ right toward you with his head down like a bat shot out of a cannon. Still, don’t move, and if you’re in the saddle, hold your hoss. Jest let that gwinter alone till he gits in two steps of you, then take a couple of steps down the hill. He can’t run the other way, and you’ll be safe. Ten to one he’ll be so mad about it he’ll try to foller you, anyway, and when he gits his short legs down hill, he’s a goner. Jest stand by and watch him roll down the mountain and break his fool neck. That’s one reason why they’re so scerce, the cowboys learned that trick. Another reason is that they fought among themselves too much. You see, them that has their long legs on the right used to meet them that has their long legs on the left as they grazed around the mountains. And when two of ’em met like that, they always tangled up. Finally they fought till the weaker side all got kilt, so now there’s only one kind on each mountain. On some mountains it’s the right-leggers, and on some mountains it’s the left-leggers.”

“If somebody would capture one alive,” said Lanky, “he could sell him to a circus for five thousand dollars.”

“That’s been tried, son; that’s been tried,” replied Joe. “However, your figger’s too small. Once when I was punchin’ cattle in the Chisos, Barnum and Bailey sent a feller all the way down from New York City with fifty thousand dollars to pay any man that would cage him a gwinter. For a long time he couldn’t git nobody to try it, till finally he come to our outfit.

“‘I won’t endanger the lives of my men in any sech manner and fashion,’ says the boss. ‘However,’ he says, turnin’ to us, ‘if any of you men want to try it on your own hook, you can. They ain’t much work to do right now, and I’ll let you off for a few days.’

“Well, we gits our best mounts and ropes, and looks after our cinches, and sets out. We scouts around a while, and shore nuff we hears one snort right near the foot of Egg-shell Mountain. We lets out our wildest yells and fires off our six-shooters, and somehow, by luck I guess, we gits the critter buffaloed, and he goes tearin’ around the mountain and us after him. Each time he goes around the mountain he gits a little higher. We sees our hosses is goin’ to give out if we don’t figger out some way to spell ’em. We ’lows that since we got the critter on the run, two of us will be enough to go around the mountain, and the others stays put. Then on the next round, two more goes, and so on and so forth. Each time we gits a bit nearer the top. Finally, we all joins in, in order to be there when he gits to the top and can’t go no further. And purty soon there he is at the top.”