NOW and THEN... A Nostalgic Look At The Past!
By Aletha Wiehl
Spring is here. Early horse shows are upon us. And our beloved horse from Tennessee will steal the spotlight time and again. What a phenomenal rise to popularity this breed is having in the Pacific Northwest! But, it should be expected.
This has been horse country for a long, long time. Some of the earliest traces of horses on the contient are found here. And here as elsewhere, horses have played a vital part in the history and development of the country. But times and needs change, sometimes slowly, sometimes very quickly.
Today, less than one hour’ s drive from my home, one can be in the center of the Hanford Atomic Energy plant. There are those alive today who remember that same country as the scene of the last big wild horse round-up in Washington.
Some years ago, as I sat by a fireside listening to one of the cowboys on that round-up recount some of his experiences, I realized that I was listening to a part of our history and jotted down some notes, following as closely as I could his words. Here is a peek into our very recent past:
“ We started out from Euphrata, circled around Crab Creek, Beverly, Waterville, and then ended up back at Euphrata. The first night out we camped on the Wahluke slope. That first night we were mighty short of horses— not even one horse apiece. Some of the boys had some classy-looking, fullblooded horses. Most of them gave out pretty early. Some of the fellows took some feed up to the basin in Saddle Mountain, camped there over night, and rounded up two or three thousand horses. We all had horses from then on.
“ Bill McCarty was buying horses and we rigged up a corral to keep some of the choice ones in.( We treasure some old pictures showing these. Some pretty good looking horses too.) During the night, some one started the horses milling, and when word reached those of us camped directly below the corral, we broke some speed records moving camp. Luckily, they didn’ t break through but continued circling— much to the relief of Mc Carty, who had paid for the animals.
“ This McCarty was an ex-prize fighter, and weighed a good 200 pounds. We had a raft to cross the creek, and whenever McCarty stepped on the raft it began to go down. He jumped on one time when it was fairly well loaded and some of us fellows holding the tow rope on the bang gave the rope a quick jerk and they all went off like a bunch of bullfrogs. McCarty got up soaking wet and full of fight. Then he began to laugh and joined us to try the stunt on the next bunch. One fellow, named George, had been strutting all over camp in a brand new buckskin suit and handsome chaps. One pull on the seagrass ropes, and he too joined the swimmers.
“ We narly hanged a man on that trip, too. A lot of people came along to see the fun. There were some newspaper men from the East and some wealthy people in their buggies, among them some women. Well, Jim Shephard heard some fellow make a nasty remark about one of the women and jumped him about it. One thing led to another, and two or three of the boys decided a man who had no more respect for women than that coyote deserved to be hanged. So we started out to do it.
“ But we couldn’ t’ find anything to hang him to— this being sagebrush country. So we decided to drown him. We tied some boulders about the size of a wash tub to his neck and feet and carried him out into the Columbia. He was yelling and bawling by this time. But we finally concluded any one as low down ornery as he was would pollute the river for years to come and postponed the demise till we could find a tree. Never did find out if that fellow got strung up.”
Well, that was our spring“ horse show” not so long ago! One thing it did have in common with the show of 1964, the test then as now of a good horse is“ can he get the job done?” As the jobs differ, the requirements differ. Yet, it is quite possible that the Walking Horse with his wonderful versatility and stamina would have found a welcome place with the“ working cowboy” of former years. Want proof? Here it is.
On the Jack Jeffries’ wheat ranch in Grass Valley, Oregon,( the spot where Dr. and Mrs. Roberts purchased THE FLYING DOLLAR) there is a compact, steel-muscled, working saddle horse, a registered Tennessee Walking Horse. In the morning he is saddled and ready with the slip of a bridle on his head to bring in a good-sized herd of cattle or round-up and bring in two or three dozen horses. Yet this same horse can, and will, perform intricate, rhythmic changes of leads, side-passes etc. in the best Continental haute ecole manner. He can shine in the show ring in pleasure and working stock horse classes. He can run fast as an arrow, or canter all day in the shade of an old apple tree. He and another Walking Horse on the place have been used to rope deer— yes, you read it right. If you think that kind of roping does not take a little doing. just try it sometime!
When it comes to roping, Jack apologized for another Walking Horse. It seems the horse bucked. Well, there is a limit to what even a good-natured Walking Horse will
16 VOICE OF THE TENNESSEE WALKING HORSE