“Well, he’s a grass-eatin’ quadruped,” said Joe, “something like a cross between a buffalo and a mountain-goat, only he’s a lot more ferocious. The peculiar thing about the gwinter is his legs. Instead of havin’ four legs of equal length like a critter ought to have, or two short legs in front and two long ones behind, like the glyptodont, these brutes have two long legs on the downhill side and two short legs on the uphill side. This is mighty convenient for ’em, since they don’t live on level ground nohow. Some of ’em has their right legs long, and some of ’em has their right legs short, dependin’ on which way they graze around the mountains. The Chisos and the Davis and the Guadalupe mountains used to be full of ’em. Up there, them critters was thicker than the buffalo or the antelope on the plains, but they’re gittin’ mighty scerce now. Still, they took off many a cow-hand in the early days, and sometimes yet a tenderfoot gits in the way of one of ’em and don’t come back home to the chuck wagon at night. “If one of them critters ever starts toward you, Lanky, don’t for anything let him know you’re scered. If you try to run, he’ll git you shore. Jest stand there and look him right in the eye like you was glad to see him. He’ll be comin’ right toward you with his head down like a bat shot out of a cannon. Still, don’t move, and if you’re in the saddle, hold your hoss. Jest let that gwinter alone till he gits in two steps of you, then take a couple of steps down the hill. He can’t run the other way, and you’ll be safe. Ten to one he’ll be so mad about it he’ll try to foller you, anyway, and when he gits his short legs down hill, he’s a goner. Jest stand by and watch him roll down the mountain and break his fool neck. That’s one reason why they’re so scerce, the cowboys learned that trick. Another reason is that they fought among themselves too much. You see, them that has their long legs on the right used to meet them that has their long legs on the left as they grazed around the mountains. And when two of ’em met like that, they always tangled up. Finally they fought till the weaker side all got kilt, so now there’s only one kind on each mountain. On some mountains it’s the right-leggers, and on some mountains it’s the left-leggers.” “If somebody would capture one alive,” said Lanky, “he could sell him to a circus for five thousand dollars.” “That’s been tried, son; that’s been tried,” replied Joe. “However, your figger’s too small. Once when I was punchin’ cattle in the Chisos, Barnum and Bailey sent a feller all the way down from New York City with fifty thousand dollars to pay any man that would cage him a gwinter. For a long time he couldn’t git nobody to try it, till finally he come to our outfit.