"Yes; but not so many as you would suppose, for the horsemanship, in its particular way, is something wonderful. When an ugly steer is la.s.soed and he feels the reata or lariat round his neck, he sometimes turns and "makes" for the horse, and unless the vaquero is particularly skilful he will be gored and his horse too; but he gives a dexterous turn to the lariat, the animal steps over it, gets tangled and thrown. Frequently an animal breaks a horn or a leg.
Sometimes one fall is not enough; the steer jumps up and pursues the horse. Then the vaquero keeps a little ahead of him and leads him back to the rodeo-ground, where another vaquero la.s.sos him by the hind legs and throws him, while the reata is taken off his neck."
"There is another danger, too," added Dr. Winship. "The vaquero winds the reata very tightly round the pommel of his saddle to hold the steer, and he is likely to have his finger caught in the hair- rope and cut off."
"Yes, I forgot that. Two or three of the famous old vaqueros about Santa Barbara--Jose Maria, Jose Antonio, and old Clemente--have each lost a finger. Well, the vaqueros at length form in a circle round the band of selected cattle. The ranch owner who gives the rodeo takes his own cattle that he has found--the ones bearing his brand, you know--and drives them in with the ones to be branded, leaving in the rodeo-ground the cattle bearing the brands of all the other rancheros. There has been much drinking of aguardiente (brandy) and everybody by this time is pretty reckless. Then they drive this selected band to the home corral, the vaqueros yelling, the cattle "calling," and the reatas whizzing and whistling through the air. If any unfortunate tries to escape his fate he is pursued, "la.s.s"d," and brought back. By this time the cattle are pretty well heated and angry, and when they get into the crowded corral they horn each other and try to gore the horses. A fire is then built in one corner of the corral and the branding-irons are heated."
"Oh! hold my hand, Polly, if the branding is going to begin, I hate it so," exclaimed Elsie.
"I won"t say much about it, but it"s no worse than a thousand things that people have to bear every year of their lives. Animals never have to have teeth filled, for instance, nor limbs amputated--"
"Oh, just think of a calf with a wooden leg, or a cow with false teeth! Wouldn"t it be funny?" laughed Bell.
"They don"t have a thousand ills that human flesh is heir to, so they must be thankful they get off so easy. Well! the branding-irons are heated, as I say--each cattle-owner having his special brand, which is properly recorded, and which may be any device not previously used. Two men now catch the calves; one la.s.soing them by the head, the other by the legs. A third man takes the iron from the fire and brands the chosen letter or hieroglyphic on the animal"s hind quarter."
"Sometimes on the fore quarter, don"t they?" asked Bell. "I"ve seen brands there,--your horse has two, and our cow has one also."
"Yes, a brand on the fore quarter shows that the animal has been sold, but it always has the original brand on the hind quarter. When a sale is effected, the new brand is put anywhere in front of the fifth rib, and this const.i.tutes what they call a venta, or sale. If you notice some of the little "plugs" ridden by Santa Barbara boys, you"ll see that they bear half a dozen brands. By the way, if the rodeo has been a very large one, they are several days branding the cattle, so they are turned out to pastorear a little while each day."
"The brand was absolute sign of ownership, you know, girls," said Dr.
Winship; "and though there was the greatest care exercised in choosing and recording the brands, there was plenty of opportunity for cheating. For instance, a man would often see unbranded cattle when riding about, and there was nothing to prevent his dismounting, building a fire, heating his iron, and putting his own brand on them.
Then, at the next rodeo, they were simply turned over to him, for, as I say, the brand was absolute ownership."
"Whene"er I take my rides abroad, How many calves I see; And, as I brand them properly, They all belong to me,"
said Bell.
"How I should like to see a rodeo!" sighed Elsie. "I can"t imagine how the vaqueros can fling the reata while they are riding at full speed."
"It isn"t so very wonderful," said Polly, nonchalantly "the most ordinary people can learn it; why! your brother Jack can la.s.so almost as well as a Mexican."
"And I can "la.s.s" any stationary object myself," cried Bell; "a hitching-post, or even a door-k.n.o.b; I can do it two or three times out of ten."
"That shows immense skill," answered Jack, "but, as the thing you want to "la.s.s" never does stay still, and as it is absolutely necessary to catch it more than three times out of ten, you probably wouldn"t make a name and fortune as a vaquero. Juan Capistrano, by the way, used to be famous with the lariat. I had heard of his adventure with a bull on the island of Santa Rosa, and I asked him about it to-day; but he had so exhausted himself telling stories to Bell that he had very few words for me. You see there was a bull, on Santa Rosa island, so wild that they wanted to kill him; but n.o.body could do it, though he was a terror to any one who ventured on the island. They called him "Antiguelo," because of his long horns and long tail. He was such a terrible fighter that all the vaqueros were afraid to la.s.s" him, for he always broke away with the lariat. You see a horse throws a bull by skill and not by strength, of course.
You can choke almost any bull; but this one was too smart! he would crouch on his haunches and pull back until the rope nearly choked him and then suddenly "make" for the horse. Juan Capistrano had a splendid horse--you see as much depends on the horse as the man in such a case--and he came upon Antiguelo on the Cerro Negro and la.s.s"d him. Well, did he fight? I asked. "Si, Senor." Well, what happened? "Yo lo mate" (I killed him), he said, with a shrug of his shoulders, and that"s all I could get out of Juan regarding his adventure."
"But you haven"t done your share, you lazy boy," objected Bell. "You must tell us more."
"What do you want to hear? I am up on all the animal and vegetable life of Southern California, full of interesting information concerning its old customs, can give you Spanish names for all the things that come up in ordinary conversation, and am the only man present who can make a raw-hide reata," said Jack, modestly.
"Go on and tell us how, O great and wise reatero," said Bell.
"I"ll tell you that myself," said Elsie, "for I"ve seen him do it dozens of times, when he should have been studying his little lessons. He takes a big piece of raw hide, cuts a circle right out of the middle, and then cuts round and round this until he has one long continuous string, half an inch wide. He then stretches it and sc.r.a.pes the hair off with a knife or a piece of gla.s.s, gets it into four strands, and braids it "round.""
"Perhaps you think braiding "round" is easy to do," retorted Jack, in an injured tone; "but I know it took me six months to learn to do it well."
"I fail to see," said his mother, "how a knowledge of "braiding round" and la.s.soing of wild cattle is going to serve you in your university life and future career."
"Oh yes, it will. I shall be the Buffalo Bill of Harvard, and I shall give charming little entertainments in my rooms, or in some little garden-plot suitable to the purpose."
"Shall you make a point of keeping up with your cla.s.s?" asked Mrs.
Winship.
"Oh yes, unless they go too fast. My sports won"t take any more time than rowing or baseball. They"ll be a little more expensive, because I"ll have to keep some wild cattle constantly on hand, and perhaps a vaquero or two; but a vaquero won"t cost any more than a valet."
"I didn"t intend furnishing you with a valet," remarked his mother.
"But I shall be self-supporting, mother dear. I shall give exhibitions on the campus, and the gate-money will keep me in luxury."
"This is all very interesting," said Polly, cuttingly; "but what has it to do with California, I"d like to know?"
"Poor dear! Your brain is so weak. Can"t you see that when I am the fashion in Cambridge, it will be noised about that I gained my marvellous skill in California? This will increase emigration. I don"t pretend to say it will swell the population like the discovery of gold in "48, but it will have a perceptible effect."
"You are more modest than a whole mossy bank of violets," laughed Dr.
Paul. "Now, Margery, will you give us your legend?"
"Mine is the story of Juan de Dios (literally, Juan of G.o.d), and I"m sorry to say that it has a horse in it, like Polly"s; only hers was a snow-white mare, and mine is a coal-black charger. But they wouldn"t tell us any romantic love-stories; they were all about horses."
STORY OF JUAN DE DIOS.
"In early days, when Americans were coming in to Santa Barbara, there were many cattle-buyers among them; and there were large bands of robbers all over the country who were ready to pounce on these travellers on their way to the great cattle ranchos, kill them, and steal their money and clothes, as well as their horses and trappings.
No one could understand how the robbers got such accurate information of the movements of the travellers, unless they had a spy somewhere near the Mission, where they often stopped for rest and refreshment.
"Now, there was a certain young Indian vaquero in the employ of the padres at La Mission de la Purisima. He was a wonderful horseman, and greatly looked up to by his brother vaqueros, because he was so strong, alert, and handsome, and because he was always dressed elegantly in rich old Spanish embroideries and velvets, given to him, he said, by men for whom he had done great services.
"One day a certain traveller, a Spanish official of high degree, came from Monterey to wed his sweetheart, the daughter of the richest cattle-owner in all the country round. His spurs and bit and bridle were of solid silver; his jaquima (halter) was made of a hair rope whose strands had been dyed in brilliant colours; his tapaderos (front of the stirrups), mochilas (large leather saddle flaps), and sudaderos (thin bits of leather to protect the legs from sweat), were all beautifully stamped in the fashion used by the Mexicans; his saddle blankets and his housings were all superb, and he wore a broad sombrero encircled with a silver snake and trimmed with silver lace.
"The traveller stayed at La Purisima all night, and set out early in the morning to ride the last forty miles that separated him from his bride. But Juan and two other robbers were lying in wait for him behind a great rock that stood at the entrance of a lonely canyon.
They appeared on horseback, one behind the unfortunate man and two in front, so that he could escape neither way. They finally succeeded in la.s.soing the horse and throwing him to the ground with his rider, who defended himself bravely with his knife, but was finally killed and robbed, Juan taking his clothes and trappings, and the other two dividing the contents of his purse. They could not have buried their victim as successfully as usual, or else they were surprised, and had to escape, for the body was found; and Juan, whom the padres had begun to view with suspicion, was nowhere to be found about the Mission. Troops were sent out in pursuit of him, for this particular traveller was a high official, and it was necessary that his death should be avenged. They at last heard that Juan had been seen going towards Santa Ynez Mission, and, pursuing him thither, they came upon him as he was driving a band of horses into a corral, and just in the act of catching his own horse, a n.o.ble and powerful animal, called Azabache, because of his jet-black colour. The men surrounded the corral, and ordered him to surrender. He begged them to wait until he had saddled Azabache, and then they might shoot them both down together. He asked permission to call three times (pegar tres gritos), and after the third call they were to shoot. His last wish was granted. He saddled and mounted his splendid horse, called once- -twice--thrice,--but when the last shout faded in the air, and the troops raised their muskets to fire, behold, there was no Juan de Dios to be seen. They had been surrounding the corral so that no one could have ridden out; they looked among the horses, but Asabache was nowhere to be found.
"Just then a joyous shout was heard, so ringing and triumphant that every man turned in the direction from which it came. There, galloping up the hillside, nearly half a mile distant, was Juan de Dios, mounted on his coal-black Azabache! But it was no common sunshine that deepened the gorgeous colours of his trappings and danced upon his silver spurs till they glistened like two great stars! It was a broad, glittering stream of light such as no mortal had ever seen before and which almost blinded the eyes; and over this radiant path of golden sunbeams galloped Juan de Dios, until he disappeared over the crest of the mountain. Then the light faded; the padres crossed themselves in silence and went home to their Mission! and Juan de Dios never was heard of more."
Modest little Margery was hailed with such cheers that you could not have seen her cheeks for the blushes; and, just as the party began to think of forsaking the fascinating camp-fire for bed, Bell jumped up impetuously and cried, "Here, Philip, give me the castanets, please.
Polly and Jack, you play "Las Palomas" for me, and I"ll sing and show you the dance of that pretty Mexican girl whom I saw at the ball given under the Big Grape Vine. Wait till I take off my hair ribbon.
Lend me your scarf, mamma. Now begin!"
LAS PALOMAS. {2} (THE DOVES.) Cua-tro pa-lo-mi-tas blan-cas que vie- nen de por a--lla. U-nas a las o-tras di-cen no hay a-mor como el de a-ca.
It is barely possible, but not likely, that anything prettier than Bell"s Mexican danza was to be seen under the light of the September stars that night; although they were doubtless shining down upon a thousand lovely things. With all the brightness of her loosened hair rising and falling with the motion of her swaying figure--with her twinkling feet, her crimson cheeks and parted lips, she looked the very spirit of the dance, and her enraptured--audience only allowed her to stop when she was absolutely breathless.
"Oh what a beautiful evening!" exclaimed Elsie, when the celebration was finally over. "Was there ever such a dear, dear canyon with such dear people in it! If it only wouldn"t rain and we could live here for ever!"
"Rain, rain, stay away!
Come again another day, Little Elsie wants to play,"