A few words from Chapter 6 of Trouble at Sagrado Ranch:
"Let's go watch the wrangler break a horse or two," (said Legrand).
"Sure, before I get involved in this stuff," I said, getting up.
We walked to the corral near the barn that had two horses inside, a beautiful black and a sorrel. Pa was in the corral with Lute Kempus, who had just tethered the sorrel to a post in the corner and was getting ready to throw a rope on the black so he could put a saddle on him.
"Getting ready to tackle Black Velvet, is he?" LeGrand said to Pa.
"For the second time, yup. He got throwed off the first time."
LeGrand yelled to Lute, "Want me to hold that rope while you throw on the saddle?"
"Nah, not this time," said Lute.
The slim, bronzed wrangler was confident in what he was doing and had no trouble putting on the bridle and saddle gear. The black gelding stood quietly, keeping his eyes on the wrangler, wo climbed jauntily into the saddle, holding the reins and getting settled. He no sooner got situated than Black Velvet lifted his front legs and dropped them back to the ground. He raised his back legs with a sudden jolt to the rider, trying to throw him off.
Lute was expecting that and as soon as the back legs hit the ground, the horse took off in a run around the corral, stopping abruptly and sliding to a stop. Velvet started bucking and rolling with Kempus holding the reins and the saddle horn with his right hand and trowing his left in the air on each jump. The horse stopped, puffing hard, twisting his head and without any particular notice to the rider made a kick and put his front and hind legs touching in a wild buck. Lute went flying over the fence, landing on his head and shoulders, the momentum carrying him in a somersault and coming to rest in a sitting position in the dirt, unhurt, his hat askew, but still on his head. Kempus sat there, his arms resting on his bent knees, taking a few deep breaths, and staring at the hills in the distance.
"Is that a new way to practice cartwheels, Lute?" said Pa, laughing. "Yer goin' to need some of that mustang liniment tonight for those shoulders and leg joints."
Lute was sitting on his behind looking out over the horizon. "I'll be fine, Mister Hawkins. I was just admirin' the view of the hills, is all," said Lute, still panting. "I think that horse was trying to kill me, though."
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