‘Yes, so they are; but you always have to begin to “part out” the cattle with the freshest and best-trained horses you have. The owners and their best vaqueros now go into the immense band of cattle, and try to get the cows and the unbranded calves separated from the rest. You can imagine what skilful engineering this takes, even though you never saw it. Two work together; they start a certain cow and calf and work them through the band of cattle until they near the outside, and then “rush” them to a place three or four hundred yards beyond, where other vaqueros are stationed to receive and hold them. Of course the cattle don’t want to leave the band, and of course they don’t want to stay in the spot to which they are driven.’ ‘I don’t blame them!’ cried Bell impetuously. ‘Probably the cows remember the time when they were branded themselves, and they don’t want their dear little bossies put through the same operation.’ ‘Very likely. Then more cows and calves are started in the same way; the greatest difficulty being had with the first lot, for the cattle always stay more contentedly together as the group grows larger. Occasionally one “breaks” and runs off on the hills, and a vaquero starts after him, throws the reata and lassos him, or “lass’s” him, as the California boys say.’ ‘There must be frightful accidents,’ said Mrs. Winship. ‘Yes; but not so many as you would suppose, for the horsemanship, in its particular way, is something wonderful. When an ugly steer is lassoed and he feels the reata or lariat round his neck, he sometimes turns and “makes” for the horse, and unless the vaquero is particularly skilful he will be gored and his horse too; but he gives a dexterous turn to the lariat, the animal steps over it, gets tangled and thrown. Frequently an animal breaks a horn or a leg. Sometimes one fall is not enough; the steer jumps up and pursues the horse. Then the vaquero keeps a little ahead of him and leads him back to the rodeo-ground, where another vaquero lassos him by the hind legs and throws him, while the reata is taken off his neck.’ ‘There is another danger, too,’ added Dr. Winship. ‘The vaquero winds the reata very tightly round the pommel of his saddle to hold the steer, and he is likely to have his finger caught in the hair-rope and cut off.’