vaquero

My dad was a vaquero, transporting cattle via horse and sleeping outside, occasionally for days at a time.

No horse is mine;––if I walk abroad for my own health a vaquero ever is after me that I ride back with no fatigue to myself!

One vaquero sent his rope flying through the air, and the loop settled over a big, hairy fore paw.

Wilkes describes him as a dashing, gay "vaquero," half-Indian in his characteristics, but very useful to the new community.

Accordingly, the vaquero was directed to look after the mules while Frank and Joe went to work with pick, shovel, and pan.

Prodding his belly persistently, the vaquero followed him back, step by step.