Some notable sight was drawing the passengers, both men and women, to the window; and therefore I rose and crossed the car to see what it was. I saw near the track an enclosure, and round it some laughing men, and inside it some whirling dust, and amid the dust some horses, plunging, huddling, and dodging. They were cow ponies in a corral, and one of them would not be caught, no matter who threw the rope. We had plenty of time to watch this sport, for our train had stopped that the engine might take water at the tank before it pulled us up beside the station platform of Medicine Bow. We were also six hours late, and starving for entertainment. The pony in the corral was wise, and rapid of limb. Have you seen a skilful boxer watch his antagonist with a quiet, incessant eye? Such an eye as this did the pony keep upon whatever man took the rope. The man might pretend to look at the weather, which was ne; or he might aect earnest conversation with a bystander: it was bootless. The pony saw through it. No feint hoodwinked him. This animal was thoroughly a man of the world. His undistracted eye stayed fixed upon the dissembling foe, and the gravity of his horse-expression made the matter one of high comedy. Then the rope would sail out at him, but he was already elsewhere; and if horses laugh, gayety must have abounded in that corral. Sometimes the pony took a turn alone; next he had slid in a ash among his brothers, and the whole of them like a school of playful sh whipped round the corral, kicking up the ne dust, and (I take it) roaring with laughter. Through the window-glass of our Pullman the thud of their mischievous hoofs reached us, and the strong, humorous curses of the cow-boys. Then for the first time I noticed a man who sat on the high gate of the corral, looking on. For he now climbed down with the undulations of a tiger, smooth and easy, as if his muscles owed beneath his skin. The others had all visibly whirled the rope, some of them even shoulder high. I did not see his arm lift or move. He appeared to hold the rope down low, by his leg. But like a sudden snake I saw the noose go out its length and fall true; and the thing was done. As the captured pony walked in with a sweet, church-door expression, our train moved slowly on to the station, and a passenger remarked, “That man knows his business.” - Taken from "The Virginian" written by Owen Wister
✔ Author(s): Owen Wister
✔ Title: The Virginian
✔ Rating : 4.4 out of 5 base on (906 reviews)
✔ ISBN-10: 1090165714
✔ Language: English
✔ Format ebook: PDF, EPUB, Kindle, Audio, HTML and MOBI
✔ Device compatibles: Android, iOS, PC and Amazon Kindle
Readers' opinions about The Virginian by Owen Wister
Aleena Tran
Experience a heartwarming journey of self-discovery and love in this beautifully written novel. The protagonist's struggles and triumphs are portrayed with incredible empathy. Richly developed characters and a compelling plot make the story unforgettable. The emotional depth of the narrative resonates long after the book is closed. It's a touching tale that celebrates the human spirit. Perfect for readers seeking an uplifting read.
Molly Adams
Experience the inspiring journey of an individual overcoming incredible odds in this powerful memoir. The author's candid and heartfelt writing brings their story to life. Each chapter reveals the resilience and strength of the human spirit. The narrative is both informative and deeply moving, offering valuable life lessons. It's a story that motivates and inspires, making it a must-read. Perfect for those seeking inspiration and personal growth.
Shark Davey
Experience the emotional journey of a character discovering their true self in this moving novel. The author's empathetic writing and rich character development create a deeply resonant narrative. Each chapter explores themes of identity, acceptance, and love with sensitivity. The plot's twists and turns keep you engaged from start to finish. It's a heartwarming and thought-provoking read. Perfect for readers who enjoy stories about personal growth and self-discovery.
