Fancy Clothes and Gear Don't Make You a Cowboy

It is said that clothes make a man. I don’t know about that, but the outfit sure don’t make you a good hand necessarily. An old timer I worked with at the OO out of Seligman sure proved that. Pat Davis was in his sixties when we were working there. Pat wore an old Palm Braid hat, one of those wide woven things like you might see a corn farmer wear. His clothes were working man clothes, no snaps on his shirts and maybe J.C. Penny britches. He had a pair of old bat wing chaps that didn’t hang very well. His saddle and outfit was a good one and he kept everything is good shape. Grazer bit, split reins and swell forked saddle.
There was an old kid there, about 18 years old or so. Now Tom (we’ll call him) had a new good looking hat, boots, Wrangler pants he wanted creased even in the country, and bright colored Western shirts. Tom had a new saddle, new step in shotguns and nice double Navajo blankets. Course he had only been a cowboy a couple of years. His family was  wealthy by cowboy standards and they had helped him get rigged up. They were not a ranching family.
Anyway, Tom was always bellyaching about Pat. He was sure he was a better cowboy than Pat was. Tom thought he was quite a wild cow cowboy, and could tie a lot of cattle down in any given run. Hell, he always carried 3 or 4 piggin strings! Well, we were all over at the Jolly to try to clean that country out. Johnny Sanders was there from Fort Rock, which he ran. Johnny was a sure enough good old time Arizona cowboy. There were about 6 of us there that day. That country is haired over with Juniper and Cedar. There was a dirt tank, with a water lot, set right on a fence line. The trap or water had three gates in it. That was the only water for quite a ways.
Well we made a little quiet drive into that trap, and didn’t spill any cattle. We shut all but one gate, reset saddles and Pat left me there. The rest of the crew left to make a drive back into this trap. I was to keep what cattle we had from leaving and turn new cattle in that gate when they showed up. After awhile I hear rocks rolling and brush poppin, and here comes Johnny with a handful of cattle. Just cattle, no mavericks or big steers. But these cattle are all fast company and if you weren’t in the right place at the right time you would lose them sure. After a while everybody is back in except Pat. No cattle – none.
Then Pat shows up with a little wad of cattle. His horse is soaken wet and out of air. We shut the gate and unsaddle to let our ponies backs air out. Pat don’t say much, as we all roll smokes and cool off. Pretty soon it’s time to go, we were goin to walk these cattle out of there to the Double H’s I think. As we are getting ready Pat asks if anybody has anything tied down. NO! Tom says, “This sorry damn horse I’m ridein – I couldn’t get nothin done.” Bull—-
So we start out of there, Pat in the lead, and pretty quick he stops that little herd, has Johnny help him turn a big old slick heifer into the herd. Yep, that old fart had tied one down. We got another little ways and looky there, right close together is a cow tied down, and 100 feet away her big old bull calf is tied down. So Johnny and I help turn them up into our set herd. Pat was a cowboy, plain and simple. There can be no praise higher than that.
It was pretty quiet about how good a wild cow cowboy Tom was, at least till he got back to town.