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104 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano
He was pretty handy with a rope and no one ever knew it till he became the equivalent to an
American horse wrangler. He used to watch the vacerro known as Marcelo when he would
rope the horses out of the herd as the men would call for them. He would wait until the men
had left with his father, then go to the barn and get his riata and practice roping the tall posts in
the horse corral.
“Ramon ropes the horses almost as good as Marcelo,” he heard Carlos, one of the men say.
“Ramon is not so bad to have with us after all,” said another.
This is what he was thinking as he fell asleep. The next day, he tried even harder to do things
right. After the last meal of the day was finished, the men sat around discussing the day’s
events and telling of past encounters with, beautiful women, bad horses, wild animals and tough
men.
The fifth day out with the men, Francisco Guerra and a couple more men arrived. Raul
made a full report to his patron.
“We have successfully rounded up the cattle and are prepared to begin driving them to the
new grounds.”
“Bueno Raul, Who is the young vaquero?” He wanted to know.
“Patron, that muchacho is Ramon. He is making a fine addition to the success of the
gathering.”
“Why is my son working like a common laborer?” Guerra demanded.
“Señor, pardon me. Rosemarie wanted me to give him a position with us. She fears he
would get himself in trouble if left to his own devices,” answered Raul.
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