That made me hot, calling that a runaway team. Why, there was
one of them horses never _could_ have run away before; it hadn't never
been druv but twice! And the other horse maybe had run away a few times,
but there was lots of times he _hadn't_ run away. I esteemed that team
full as liable not to run away as it was to run away," concluded my
foreman, evidently deeming this as good a warranty of gentleness as the
most exacting could require.
The definition of good behavior on the frontier is even more elastic
for a saddle-horse than for a team. Last spring one of the Three-Seven
riders, a magnificent horseman was killed on the round-up near Belfield,
his horse bucking and falling on him. "It was accounted a plumb gentle
horse too," said my informant, "only it sometimes sulked and acted a
little mean when it was cinched up behind." The unfortunate rider did
not know of this failing of the "plumb gentle horse," and as soon as he
was in the saddle it threw itself over sideways with a great bound, and
he fell on his head, and never spoke again.
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