Bum
The horse trade wasn’t my idea. It was true that my bronc-riding career was limping into the sunset, and I’d considered buying a few mares to breed. But, the offered trade cameas a surprise. Up until now rodeo saddle broncs, rehabbing race horses, starting colts, riding thespoiled rough string, and packing mules were my claim to fame. I’d earned my pro-rodeo status competing across the U.S., and the wilderness hunt- ing camp outfitters in Montana and Wyoming habitually assigned sour mishandled horses to my charge. It was my common thought that a gentleman cowboy should raise his own herd of riding stock and that it shouldbe well-mannered, wellbred, and carry ample brains. Saddling and stepping aboard outlaws before daylight was wearing thin.
02/22/2023 23:00