Wilder. "I'll
take Blackhawk, because he's still cranky, and the other two."
The ranchman, however, let the ponies lead him more than he led
them, for he knew their instinct would take them to the nearest
water.
Yet there was no need of their guidance, for in a few minutes the
ears of the hunters caught the sound of running water.
"That's a brook," declared Mr. Wilder, and quickly he led the way
to a spot where they found a fair-sized pool formed by a stream
coming from the hills.
The coffee pot was a monster, holding all of two gallons, and this
the ranchman directed Tom to fill before allowing the ponies to
satisfy their thirst.
As the animals were drinking Mr. Wilder took the lariats he had
brought and tied an end around the left ankle of each pony, making
another noose round the hind ankle on the same side at such a
distance that there was about three feet of the rope between the
hoofs.
"Such a short line makes it impossible for them to run or even walk
very well," he explained, "so they will just stay here and browse,
"Now we'll remove the bridles. Always remember to hobble your pony
before unbridling."
"But the rope ends?" asked Tom.
"In a place like this, where there are no rocks between which they
can get bound, you can let them drag. When it is rocky, you can
wind the rope loosely round their necks.
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