He came back
last month and rode over a few days ago for the night. I asked him many
questions. He says they never show any feeling except when they get mad,
and that they walk and row and play ball--with the feet, caramba!--and
run about in the snow. He says they would think we were like girls with
our fine clothes and our hammocks--"
"Girls!" cried Roldan, indignantly. "I'd like to see American or any
other boys do better with that bear than we did, or lasso a friend in
the midst of a boiling river as you did. And if they come here to laugh
at us they'll find one pair of fists that are not soft if they do have
lace ruffles over them. And I'd like to see them live all day on a horse
as we do."
"True, true, you are always right," said Adan, soothingly. "Ay, I think
those horses are coming this way. Better get up."
He moved back onto the anquera and Roldan sprang to his place and
unwound the lariat. Like all of its kind, it was a slender woven cord
about eighteen feet in length and made of tough strips of untanned hide.
It was an admirable weapon in skilled hands, but not to be trifled with
by the amateur. Many a careless Californian had lost a finger or thumb,
and more than one had owed it lockjaw.
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