Well-bred bulls had never been introduced.
Some of the bulls we found had almost reached their allotted span--crusty old fellows indeed and scarred in many a battle; "moss-heads" we called them, and the term was well applied, for their hoary old heads gave the idea of their being covered with moss.
Most of the cattle had never been in a corral in their lives, and some of the older steers were absolute "outlaws," magnificent creatures, ten to twelve years of age, with immense spreading horns, sleek and glossy sides, and quite unmanageable.

They could not be got into a herd, or if got in, would very soon walk out again.

Eventually some had to be shot on the range like any wild animal, simply to get rid of them; but they at least afforded us many a long and wild gallop.
There was one great steer in particular, reckoned to be ten or twelve years old, quite a celebrity in fact on account of his unmanageableness, his independence and boldness, which we had frequently seen and tried to secure, but hitherto without success.

He had a chum, another outlaw, and they grazed in a particular part of the range far from the haunts of their kin and of man.

Three of us undertook to make one more effort to secure him.