Jim & Nellie McPherson
Next day the “bunch” rode with George White’s family to move and check some of their cows. I rode a horse named Snip. Jim took the lead and I followed behind. All at once Snip was on his knees pawing at his head. George called to Jim and Jim came back. He said, “Better get out of there.” I thought he said “You’d better get off of there.” I swung my left leg over and got off—the wrong side. I had gone through a bee’s nest. That poor horse had welts all over him. I didn’t have a one. Jim said, “If he does it again, slap him with the rains. He may run a ways.” It never happened again with Snip, but riding Sinbad, he would kick up some. There were lots of bees that year.
While George was there, he helped Jim and his dad build the corral down on the creek. I pulled logs. Mr. Mc said when you want the log turned, call. So I did. When he came and saw where I was standing, he said, “I’ll not turn that log.” There was a nest of red ants.
The fellows were riding back to camp. Mr. Mc took off his hat to hit at the hornets nest on a tree branch. Those hornets took after him. When we went over to the cabin the next morning, his face was one big red blister. They had been up all night putting cold packs on him. Both he and Jim were allergic to the varmints.