The ponies were unbroken, and of the sort usually designated as vicious
and unreliable.
It was truly a thrilling exhibition and one the boys, and the girls,
too, for the matter of that, never forgot. As soon as a bronco was
approached he would begin to plunge and kick, and to get a saddle on him
was all but impossible. Then, if at last he was saddled, and the cowboy
who had been successful got in the seat, the pony would leap and plunge
some more, sometimes going straight up into the air and coming down with
legs as stiff as posts. Then, if this did not throw the cowboy off, the
pony would start to run, only to stop short suddenly, in the hope of
sending the rider over his head.
"Oh, somebody will be killed!" screamed Jessie, and often turned her
face away to shut out the sight. "Oh, why do they do such dreadful
things?" she added.
"They've got to break the ponies somehow," answered Dave. "Those broncos
will be all right after they get used to it."
"Say, do you know, I'd like to try that," remarked Roger. "I think I
could sit on one of those ponies, if he had the saddle on."
"I think I could do it, too," added Dave.
"Oh, Dave!" exclaimed his sister, while Jessie gave a little shriek of
horror.
"It's not as bad as it looks--after the pony is saddled," answered Dave.
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