The cow-men and homesteaders are often visited by their _eastern friends_, and these chases are grand sport for them. I recollect that one time two young fellows came out to visit their brother in his little _adobe_ in the valley; and learning of the sport, they were overanxious for a chase. They asked us to take them out; and finding that they were plug-hatted, nickel-plated fellows, with lots of _conceit_, we concluded to have some fun. They bragged of their _riding_ ability, and being thus relieved of the responsibility of breaking a couple of tender-foot necks, we brought up two spirited ponies used to the chase,--and one a professional _bucker_ when he took a _notion_,--and he would often take a notion in the heat of the chase. The silk-hats, broadcloth, and kid-gloves glistened in the sunlight, and their heads stuck up through the glazed standing-collars; and as we pranced out upon the range I could hardly conceal my _laughter_ when I thought of the fun to come. All at once a powerful jack-rabbit jumped from a bunch of grass and sped away like the wind. The hounds flashed by and were gone, and the ponies needed no urging. In a few hundred yards the man on the bucker touched his pony too far back with his foot; and _Jerusalem!_ to see that pony buck was a caution. The first jump the old plug-hat rolled off over the sand like a cannon-ball upon Lookout Mountain, the collar flew open, and the breeches burst; the next he was popping a foot above the saddle with his coat-tail playing in the air like the national flag; and the next he was picking himself out of the sand, limping around on one leg, pulling up his breeches, wiping the blood from his nose, and speaking the Colorado dialect as nearly as possible, while the pony ran off in the chase. The _other_ kiddy, finding that he could not _hold_ his pony, had let go the rein and was holding to the saddle-horn with his legs spread out like the holy cross, and his horse just flying. He ran among the hounds; and the rabbit turning short, the pony gave one stiff jump, whirled upon his hind feet, and ran on. The plug-hat flew, the rider scooted forward, tearing open his vest and pants upon the saddle-horn, and holding around the horse’s neck with a death-grip. The next turn the _second_ kid-glove went scooting his nose in the sand and his heels in the air. We saw that they were not _killed_, and ran on. After we had the _rabbit_ we took a hearty laugh, and then caught the ponies and went back for the good riders, who had stopped to rest. The _classic_ language had flown, and they were together brushing off their plugs and knocking the sand from their ears, and talking in such language that any _Colorado boy_ could understand every word they said. Well, there was no _fun_ in the chase for them, so we went back and the boys “set ’em up.” The stiffening was from their collars, and the conceit from their minds; and I’ll bet if an eastern man tells _them_ that he can ride _any