High in the air he bucked, swapping ends like a flash, and landing with
all four feet "on a dollar," his legs stiff as jack-pine posts. The
Texan rode with one hand gripping the hackamore rope and the other his
quirt which stung and bit into the frenzied animal's shoulders each
time he hit the ground. In a perfect storm of fury the horse plunged,
twisted, sunfished, and bucked to free himself of the rider who swayed
easily in the saddle and raked him flank and sides with his huge
rowelled spurs.
"Stay a long time!"
"Scratch him, Tex!" yelled the delighted cowpunchers.
Suddenly the yells of appreciation gave place to gasps even from the
initiated, as the rage-crazed animal leaped high into the air and
throwing himself backward, crashed to the ground squarely upon his
back. As the dust cloud lifted the Texan stood beside him, one foot
still in the stirrup, slashing right and left across the struggling
brute's ears with his braided quirt. The outlaw leaped to his feet
with the cowboy in the saddle and the crowd went wild. Then with the
enthusiasm at its height, the man jerked at his hackamore knot, and the
next moment the horse's head was free and the rider rode "on his
balance" without the sustaining grip on the hackamore rope to hold him
firm in his saddle. The sudden loosening of the rawhide thongs gave
the outlaw new life.
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