But we held
them until dawn, and after scattering them over several hundred acres,
left them grazing contentedly, when, leaving two vaqueros with the
feeding herd, we went back to the wagon. The camp had been astir some
time, and when Glenn reported the incident of our watch, Uncle Lance
said: "I thought I heard some shooting while I was cat-napping at
daylight. Well, we can use a little fresh beef in this very camp. We'll
kill him at noon. The wagon will move down near the river this morning,
so we can make three rodeos from it without moving camp, and to-night
we'll have a side of Pinto's ribs barbecued. My mouth is watering this
very minute for a rib roast."
That morning after a big rodeo on the Nueces, well above the Ganso, we
returned to camp. Throwing into our herd the cut of less than a hundred
secured on the morning round-up, Uncle Lance, who had preceded us, rode
out from the wagon with a carbine. Allowing the beeves to scatter, the
old ranchero met and rode zigzagging through them until he came face to
face with the pinto _ladino_. On noticing the intruding horseman, the
outlaw threw up his head. There was a carbine report and the big fellow
went down in his tracks.
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