Cogewea, the Half-Blood by Mourning Dove

To the sound of flute and singing, / To the sound of drum and voices -- / Hiawatha

The bucking contest -- without finals -- was to take place in the big corral, where Jim and Cogewea now repaired. Expert riders of the range were there with several outlaw broncs. For an hour the sport waxed warm and furious, many a lithe horseman biting the dust. Finally Croppy was led into the arena and while held by professional snubbers, Jim lifted his silver mounted saddle to the quivering back. The maddened struggles of the horse availed nothing against mechanical contrivances in the hands of superior intelligence, and the saddle was quickly and securely clinched. Jim turned to the spectators and called banteringly: