The cowboy still hanging onto the rope that held his head, came on, saddle and all with him, and quivering with fear the little horse layed low, feet straight out in front and head near to the ground he stayed there.
When Clint thought that had gone far enough and seen where Smoky had got over the worst of his fear he layed the saddle down again, and picking up an old saddle blanket he begin fanning the air with it, closer and closer to Smoky came the blanket as the fanning motion kept on, and stary eyed the little horse watched. He struck at it and snorted a couple of times and he even tried to turn and kick, but the blanket came on till finally one corner of it grazed his side. He flinched and kicked and tried to jerk away but there was no dodging that spooky looking thing.
Not a word was heard from the cowboy as the "sacking" went on, this was a part of the eddication that was necessary and which should be put thru mighty quiet. It was all a spooky enough performance to a raw bronc without adding on any talking, and even tho the goings on scared the pony near out of his hide, that blanket done the trick of showing him that no matter how bad it looked it wasn't going to hurt him. It was one mighty good thing to teach him general confidence in the cowboy and his riggin'.
Smoky fought like a cornered wolf and tried to get away, but he had no chance,—Clint had "sacked" many a bronc that'd fought as much and the cigarette between his lips noticed no change of spells between puffs. Smoky showed hate and fear of the human once again the same as when he was first caught, his instinct had warned him to expect most anything from that crethure, and he wasn't surprised at the way things had turned;—but that didn't help any, he just wanted to sail clear over the corral and disappear.
Thru all that fighting and goings on the sacking kept up in steady motion. Wherever the long blanket touched Smoky he flinched, and kicked at it and squealed. He was too scared to realize that there was no sting or any kind of a hurt felt. It was just the looks of the thing which had him going and his fighting instinct just had to answer every swish of that thing that circled around a leg one time and his neck the next.
Finally, and whether it was from being tired of fighting or that he was dazed past caring of what was going on Smoky begin to let up; his kicks begin to get less wicked and his eyes lost some of the fiery look till came a time when he stood near still and he'd only flinch as the blanket kept a touching, going away, and touching him here and there and all over.
Clint noticing the little horse calming down remarked, "You'll get so you'll like it pretty soon." But Smoky wasn't showing no such symptom as yet, he was just standing it best as he could and that was all.
Both sides and all around Smoky went Clint with his blanket till the little horse finally even quit flinching. The cowboy then dropped the rope that was holding the horse and worked his blanket wilder than ever, that blanket was layed everywhere on that pony's hide and around his legs, he layed it on the ground and drug it under him and all Smoky would do was to cock one ear and watch it, but he never moved. A half an hour before such a play would of sent him straight up.
Clint worked on for a while longer till he was sure there wasn't a spot on that pony that'd flinch at the feel of the blanket, then he begin to notice that Smoky was finally getting so he kinda liked the performance, no flies could touch him while that was going on, and that blanket being pulled all over him that way seemed to kind of soothe some.