"The saddle is tremendously heavy."

"It is heavy, but a few pounds don't make much difference to the horse
one way or the other, so that he is carrying it comfortably. The saddles
would be no good if they were not made strong, for a horse may put his
foot in a hole and come down head over heels, or may tumble down a
precipice, and the saddle would be smashed up if it were not pretty near
as strong as cast-iron. Out on the plains a man thinks as much of his
saddle as he does of his horse, and more. If his horse dies he will put
the saddle on his head and carry it for days rather than part with it,
for he knows he won't be long before he gets a horse again. He can buy
one for a few charges of powder and ball from the first friendly Indians
he comes across, or he may get one given to him if he has nothing to
exchange for it, or if he comes across a herd of wild horses he can
crease one."

"What is creasing a horse?" Tom asked.

"Well, it is a thing that wants a steady hand, for you have got to hit
him just on the right spot--an inch higher, you will miss him; half an
inch lower, you will kill him. You have got to put a bullet through his
neck two or three inches behind the ears and just above the spine. Of
course if you hit the spine you kill him, and he is no good except to
give you a meal or two if you are hard-up for food; but if the ball goes
through the muscles of the neck, just above the spine, the shock knocks
him over as surely as if you had hit him in the heart. It stuns him, and
you have only got to run up and put your lariat round his neck, and be
ready to mount him as soon as he rises, which he will do in two or three
minutes, and he will be none the worse for the shock; in fact you will