Then, as it bucked again, it came down with its forelegs unjointed, and rolled over on its side, with Calumet's right leg beneath it.
The black was tired and lay with its neck outstretched on the ground, breathing heavily, its sides heaving.

Calumet also, was not averse to a rest and had straightened and lay, an arm under his head, waiting.
Betty smiled, for though he appeared to be in a position which might result in a crushed leg or foot, she knew that he was in no danger, because the heavy ox-bow stirrup afforded protection for his foot, while the wide seat of the saddle kept the upper part of his leg from injury.

She had seen the cowboys roll under their horses in this manner many times, deliberately--it saved them the strenuous work of alighting and remounting.

They had done it, too, for the opportunity it afforded them to rest and to hurl impolite verbiage at their horses.
But Calumet was silent.

She rode a little closer to him, to look at him, and when his eyes met hers; she saw that his spirit was in no way touched; that his job of subduing the black was not yet finished and that he purposed to finish it.
"We're goin' in a minute," he said to her, his voice a little husky.
"I'd thank you to bring my hat.