The History of the Old American West – 4 Books in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). Emerson Hough
perhaps made a prominent figure in the round pen at the horse ranch when the spring branding was in progress. It was Jim, or Manuel, or Jose who dashed after the flying horses as they sped about the smooth walls, his hide lariat hissing about his head with the turn of his wrist as he rode. With the swoop of the rope and its louder hiss as it cut through the air even against the sharpest wind, some luckless little colt was sure to get its first lesson in the domination of mankind. The roper caught the colt by the fore feet, not by the hind feet as the calves are usually roped, and of course at the instant the rope tightened the colt went head over heels on the ground: lesson No. 1 of the cow pony, which is not to "run against rope."
At once the colt was dragged to the gate of the round pen, where just outside a fire was burning and an iron glowing for his tender hide. A hissing of hair and a plaintive scream from the colt and it was all over, and another animal had become the property of the ranch. Perhaps a dozen and a half of colts would be branded and marked in an hour, and then another bunch was brought in from the big corral. Cattle were not customarily branded in the corral but upon the range, while horses were always taken to the corrals for this work. After the branding the colts had little attention except now and then a rude examination to see that worms had not gotten into the burned spot on the shoulder or hip. The brand mark was sore for a week or so, but in about fifteen days it would heal and peel off and give no further inconvenience. At the same time as the branding of colts progressed the yearlings and two-year-olds received such attention as seemed necessary, and the herd was looked over for any stock which for any reason it was desired to hold out. By the end of April or middle of May the horse rancher could tell what had been his year's profits or losses in stock.
The loss of horses on the Southern ranges was mainly from scarcity of water or through drought that cut down the feed too closely. Some animals would be bogged down and lost in that way. The "brand blotters" and horse thieves would get a few, and the wolves and cougars would get a few colts. Lastly, the wild mustangs might run off a number of the herd. A great many persons think that all Texas ponies were "mustangs," and so call them, but the rancher made a sharp distinction between his stock and these wild horses of the plains. For years they made one of the menaces of his industry, and did not all disappear from the range until as late as 1878 or 1880. Indeed, even in 1896 a few bands of mustangs were still running in the Panhandle country of Texas. These are the increase of a few individuals left from the old horse-hunting days. The Southern rancher believed these horses to be of a stock distinct from his own, and thought they were descendants of the wild horses which sprang from the horses turned loose upon the plains by the Spanish Government. It is certain that these were swifter and warier than the range horses, for no cowboy could ever round up a band of mustangs, no matter how hard he rode. The leader of a band of these wild horses was always a stallion of great cunning and speed, often of great size and beauty. It was useless to try to trap the mustangs in any way, and they seemed to have a preternatural shrewdness at suspecting and foiling any effort made for their inveiglement into the toils. Once a party of cowmen worked all night to lay a corral fence back in a mountain pass through which a band of these wild horses were accustomed to run whenever they were pursued. The next day they were started again, and took their usual course till they came opposite the mouth of the narrow pass, when without hesitation they ran on by and did not enter the pass, thus breaking a custom which they had invariably followed up to that day, though the new corral was built far back from their sight in the narrowest part of the pass. These wild horses could not be run down by any horses ever brought upon the range. They were sometimes "walked down" by parties of horse hunters — a wild, half-civilized breed of individuals, the fascination of whose singular calling was something never shaken off. These men would take turns in following a herd of mustangs day and night for perhaps six or eight days, allowing them not a moment's rest, until the animals would become entirely worn out and could be readily approached closely enough for roping. A few of them were at times taken by the singular method known as "creasing," which killed a dozen horses to every one ever taken alive. The hunter who wished to crease a wild horse stalked it as he would game until close enough for a sure shot. He then sought to plant a rifle ball through the cartilage of the top of the neck, just above the spinal processes. Such a shot could sometimes be made in such way that the horse would fall to the earth stunned, but would afterward recover and be uninjured; but in the great majority of cases the horse was missed or killed outright.
At one time there was a celebrated white stallion in charge of a band of mustangs which ranged near the Big Thicket of the Blanco, and on this horse a certain famous mustang hunter, a Mexican by name of Soyez, had long set his heart. He sought many times to snare or trap the creature, but could not do so, and at length tried to crease it. Secreting himself in a tree near a water hole where the band watered, Soyez waited until his quarry came down to water, himself not scented because he was above the ground and at a little distance from the water. He aimed to strike the stallion just upon the crest, but, with Mexican skill, shot it instead square through the head. Years afterward Soyez would nearly weep when telling of his chagrin and sorrow at this unfortunate ending of his quest. This stallion was milk-white, except for a black forehead and black ears. In the year 1856 there was another one of these famous wild stallions which ranged in somewhat the same country. This horse was a pacer, and could never be urged into a gallop by any means. When pursued, he would always forsake the main herd and strike off by himself, taking up a gait which soon shook off pursuit. He was a grand black horse, and was much coveted by all the ranch men and their cowboys, and very often these would make up hunts for him, taking stands along his known runways. But though this horse was chased for over ten miles by six mounted men in turn, he was never turned and never reached within roping distance by any rider. At length he was chased so much that he forsook his range and went over to a spot lower down on the Blanco. For two years word came from that country that he was being pursued by the cowmen of that country, but he was never taken and at length seems to have disappeared from the country altogether, perhaps at the hand of another ambitious creaser. These wild mustangs often ran off the stock of the ranch men, and even mules sometimes joined these wild bands. The ranch men hated the mustangs on this account, and were not averse to the work of the horse hunters. At times choleric cowboys who had pursued such a wild band of plains horses dismounted and in wrath opened fire from their rifles upon the fleeing herd, sometimes killing several of the mustangs from no motive except that of wantonness or anger.
These several perils of the horse range having been evaded or overcome, the horse rancher finds himself, let us say, at the middle of the month of May with several hundreds of horses on his hands. These are not "mustangs," and not all "bronchos," and not all pure-bred Texas stock. Some of them are pure Texas or Spanish, and some are grades. All are wild as deer, and every one of them will "pitch" as sure as that he will breathe, for it is said that no horse was ever born on Texas soil which would not buck at some time or other of his career. The rancher sometimes sold his saddle stock as it stood, untrained and untamed, but the regular horse ranchers usually sold nothing but broken horses, as they got a better price for that class of stock. The process of breaking the young horses for the saddle occupied the great part of the entire summer after the round-up and the branding, and this branch of the work was one of the most picturesque and exciting phases of life on the cattle range. No better riders were ever turned out than those who were raised on or near the horse ranches, for there the business of riding wild horses went on for nearly half the year.
The differentiation of the cattle trade has made horse breaking a trade of itself in much of the cow country, but at first the cowboys of each ranch usually did the breaking for the ranch, with such help as might come through the services of some neighbouring rider of exceptional gifts at horse breaking. Such specially gifted men gradually became a class of themselves, known all over the range as "broncho busters," and they took to the hazardous trade of horse breaking as a steady business, usually working under contract, and "busting" horses at so much a head for all the big ranches having unbroken stock on hand. The name given this process of breaking is suggestive and not inaccurate. A horse was considered "busted" after he had been ridden two or three times under the hand of iron and the heel of steel. Out of such an ordeal the horse came with a temper perhaps ruined for life, and with a permanent grudge against all things human. It would really never be cured entirely of the habit of bucking, and was never absolutely safe unless ridden to the point of fatigue. Some of the best cow horses on a ranch will always buck when first mounted after a long rest, and some need