The skill which some of these men attain in their profession challenges the admiration of everyone who is permitted to witness exhibitions of it. As riders they can not be excelled in the world, and I have seen some of them perform feats of horsemanship that were simply marvelous. A cowboy is required to ride anything that is given him and ask no questions. A wild young bronco that has never been touched by the hand of man is sometimes roped out of a herd and handed over to one of the boys with instructions to "ride him." With the aid of a companion or two he saddles and mounts him, and the scene that ensues baffles description. A bucking cayuse must be seen under the saddle, under a limber cowboy, and on his native heath, in order to be appreciated at his true worth. His movements are not always the same--in fact, are extremely varied, and are doubtless intended to be a series of surprises even to an old hand at the business. The bronco is ingenious--he is a strategist. Sometimes the first break a "fresh" one makes is to try to get out of the country as fast as possible. If so, the rider allows him to go as far and as fast as he likes, for nothing will tame him quicker than plenty of hard work. But he soon finds that he can not get out from under his load in this way, and generally reverses his tactics before going far. Sometimes he stops suddenly--so suddenly as to throw an inexperienced rider a long ways in front of him. But a good cowboy, or "bronco buster," as he would be termed while engaged in this branch of the business, is a good stayer and keeps his seat. The horse may then try to jump out from under his rider--first forward then backward, or _vice versa_. Then he may spring suddenly sidewise, either to right or left, or both. Then he may do some lofty tumbling acts, alighting most always stiff-legged; sometimes with his front end the highest and sometimes about level, but usually with his hinder parts much the highest and with his back arched like that of a mad cat. He keeps his nose as close to the ground as he can get it. Sometimes he will utter an unearthly squeal that makes one's blood run cold, and will actually eat a few mouthfuls of the earth when he gets mad enough. Sometimes he will throw himself in his struggles, and again as a last resort he will lie down and roll. This must free him for a moment, but the daring and agile rider is in the saddle again as soon as the beast is on his feet. Then the horse is likely to wheel suddenly from side to side and to spin round and round on his hind feet like a top; to snort and bound hither and thither like a rubber ball. During all this time the valiant rider sits in his saddle, loose-jointed and limp as a piece of buckskin, his body swaying to and fro with the motions of his struggling steed like a leaf that is fanned by the summer breeze. He holds a tight rein, keeping his horse's head as high as possible, and plunges the rowels into his flanks, first on one side and then on the other, until frequently the ground is copiously sprinkled with the blood of the fiery steed. The duration of this scene is limited simply by the powers of endurance of the horse, for in nearly every instance he will keep up his struggles until he sinks upon the ground exhausted, and, for the time being at least, is subdued. Then he is forced upon his feet again and may generally be ridden the remainder of that day without further trouble.