Home Country
Slim Randles
Steve slowly saddled his horse, Old Snort, and climbed stiffly aboard in the cold snap of morning. He pulled his hat down a little lower and pulled the wild rag up to cover his nose and mouth from the morning chill.
How many mornings had he done this?
As Snort trotted out into the meadows of the hills surrounding our valley, he looked with perked ears for cattle. That’s what Snort does for a living. Those ears worked back and forth like radar, searching through trees and behind logs for the tell-tale movement or color of range cattle.
