new kid on the block.

when living in Wickenburg I found myself day working where ever I could find it. there was a few ranches down on the santa maria river where it ran into the big sandy river then Alamo lake.  the fences there were long gone, rotten and fallen into rust. cattle ran wild up and down the river from sentenal to the lake on the big sandy, and from the hiway up by bagdad to the lake.  there was a puncher who leased a ranch there, a DAMN good wild cow gatherer. he made it a special occupation. every day he made a point to gather at least one maverick. he claimed all mavericks in the river, even tho there was another ranch next door that had the same problem. that ranch was owned by a pioneer family who had homesteaded that ranch three generations before. it had been passed down to family members who as brothers and cusuins had formed a company for the benefit of all. the problem was they all had jobs in town, and very few skills in runnin the ranch or catching the wild ox.  while their elderly aunt and unckle lived on the isolated ranch they just had to watch as the neighbor harvested the longear.  now I don't know who owned what, wouldn't make any call on that, but it stood to reason that SOME of those mavericks belonged to the company of family members.  over time I worked for both groups, seems my good right arm and long rope along with the lack of fear of thick brush made me in demand.  the folks in town decided they needed help and hired a little short feller from south eastern Arizona to work the ranch on shares.  now this fella was a friend of mine, as was the cowpuncher on the neighboring ranch. the puncher served notice one day at a place along the river. he told that short feller that ALL the mavericks were his and to keep out of the river.  well that short feller just smilled and turned his horse and rode away. the puncher had no respect for him because he THOUGHT that short feller was a town wanna be.  when this took place I was in town. but one day the short man jumped a two year old maverick bull in the river bottom. the chase ran from one thicket to the next with hounds baying in pursuit of the bull.  soon the bull broke out of the last mesquite thicket  and made a run for the house and yard of the puncher. the dogs were making life miserable and that bull was looking for anywhere to get away. just as that bull made the yard the short man roped him, fairgrounded him and tied him on the concrete slab at the kitchen door after tying the bull the short man noticed the puncher staring out the kitchen door, his mouth hanging open. short man then informed the puncher he would be back with the truck to load mr. bull. as he stepped on his wringgin wet pony he smilled at the puncher and said " no offense, but theres a new kid on the block!"