Fun for Cowboys

1895

GAMES IN WHICH MEN AND PONIES ENGAGE ON PUNCHERS' DAYS.

Tests of Skill That Would Not Do For Ordinary Riders—A Sort of Tag of War With a Beautiful Shock at the End of It—Joy Unalloyed.

In a meeting of Texas and Oklahoma cow punchers last season after the work was done it was proposed to have a "cow punchers' day."

"Let's stretch a few ropes," said one of them.

The men were lying idly about in camp when this announcement was made, but in a twinkling they were on their feet saddling horses, tightening girths and preparing for action in general. Before an easterner could have bridled his horse the men had divided into two opposing sides. One man from each side had unslung his rope, one end of which was firmly secured to the horn of his saddle. The loose ends of the two ropes were then tied together, thus leaving the two riders joined to each other by about 100 feet of rope fastened to their Saddle horns. They took their stand facing the same way and only a few feet apart, leaving the rope slack between them. Suddenly, as if at a signal, they put spurs to their ponies and dashed off at full speed. For awhile the rope trailed in a double curve, but gradually tightened as the two riders began to turn each to the outside and away from each other. Finally the motion ceased, each horse pulling against the other in such a way that neither had the advantage.

The strain on the ropes was tremendous, but the ropes, constructed to stand the pulling of a maddened steer, stood this test also. The plucky little ponies panted and tugged and strained their nerves against each other. Their riders had all they could do to encourage their animals and to keep them in such a position as to retain their own seats. Had either pony turned his back squarely for a fair pull, the rider would have been brushed off by the rope immediately. It was a test that required fine horsemanship, a steady hand and a practiced eye. It was a well fought battle, and the spectators cheered it lustily. For some minutes neither pony seemed able to pull the other, but gradually the Texas pony seemed to gain the advantage. Step by step he backed away, pulling his opponent with him.

Seeing he was beaten if he relied on brute force, the Oklahoma man determined to see what strategy would do. Keeping the rope always taut, he galloped around the circumference of a circle of which his antagonist was the center and the rope a radius. First he galloped in one direction and then in the opposite. Then he stopped altogether and slackened the rope. His only hope was to brush his antagonist out of his saddle with the rope, and as long as his opponent faced him squarely he could not do this.

Once more the Oklahoma puncher slacks the rope, his opponent's pony turns slightly, and quick as a flash the rope has swung around, and the Texan is lifted clear of his saddle and thrown violently to the ground.

"Hurt, Bill?" asks one of his own men as the defeated puncher remounts and joins his side.

"Naw."

"Well, you oughter be. You oughter have your neck broke for gettin' tricked that way."

For over an hour such contests went on, with fortune favoring sometimes one side and sometimes the other.

The last thing of the day as well as the last of all punchers' days was what might be called a tug of war contest, a general conflict, answering, unintentionally enough, to the melee of ancient tournaments. It was held in the evening. Three ropes were twisted together into one thick cable, as the occasion required threefold power of resistance. Some eight or ten single ropes were fastened to each side of the cable, the other ends being attached to the saddle horns of the riders, the Texan crowd on one side and the Oklahoma crowd on the other. The battle began with a straight tug, one side against the other. Ponies and men, every nerve quivering, were pulling as if life and death depended on the struggle. Some were heaving against the ropes as they would in pulling a heavy load in harness. Others were pulling backward, with the long rope stretching away in front of them. The threefold cable held firm.

Now one side gave way a few feet and now the other. Soon, however, it became evident that the Texans were being out-pulled. Then the scene changed. The Texans swung round and round to entangle their opponents and brush them from their saddles. This movement was met by a counter movement. Whichever can get outside in this contest has the advantage; hence it is evident a long rope is a boon. Shorty Wilkus is doing his best to push a big Texan back. He is doing nobly, but now two Texans get together and swing around at full speed squarely against him. He and his horse go down together. He gets on his feet again amid the hurly burly of horses and men and dodges outside unharmed to safety. His riderless horse regains its feet and rushes on in the melee, adding to The confusion and entanglements. Now all system vanishes; ropes sweep men from the saddle; horses become entangled and go down; yells, cheers, shouting, swearing, shooting, are fearful. Finally it is discovered that two Texans still retain their places, while all the Oklahoma saddles are empty. This settles it. The Texans have won.

Bloody noses, black eyes, bruised faces and tattered garments were visible everywhere after the fun, and the ponies were as badly used up as the men. Yet none was killed, and no one was seriously hurt. The best of good feeling and fellowship prevailed. The men sat around the big campfire, over which a newly killed cow was roasting on a huge spit, and laughed and joked over the incidents of the day. Their joy was unalloyed. — Henrietta (Tex.) Cor., New York Sun