Cogewea, the Half-Blood by Mourning Dove

Dream back beyond the cramping lanes / To glories that have been -- / To camp smoke on the sunset plains / The riders loping in; / Loose rein and rowelled heel to spare, / The wind our only guide, / For youth was in the saddle there / With half a word to ride. / Badger Clark

At last the beef roundup was over, with the fatigued riders and horses all gathered in camp. The H-B contingent was far from being sorry, since it is the hardest work connected with the range. A man must possess a good physical constitution with the nerve to bear up under the hardships incumbent on such a life. The cowboy is up at dawn to care for his horses, and ofttimes he rides from early morning till sunset. In some instances he does not return to camp until far in the night. He never considers appeasing his own hunger without first feeding, and sometimes rubbing down his tired mount. No difference what the weather, he works just the same, cutting out and branding the "slick-ears," as the outfit goes from one grazing locality to another. This is kept up until the entire Reservation's open range has been covered. During such rodeo, each stockman has his share of well mounted riders in the field.