Los Angeles Times
September 11, 1975
BY BELLA STUMBO
Times Staff Writer
KIOWA. Colo.—The heifer, a 700-pound black Angus, was lying in a pasture about a mile off the nearest dirt road, about five miles from town. It was bloated, perhaps twice its normal size, its legs protruding stiffly into the air.
|Yarnell finally pulled out his knife to get a skin sample for the Colorado Bureau of Investigation.
Rancher Loren Green, his wife, Lee, and two neighbors, both younger men in their 30s, watched as the sheriff crouched down and grabbed a loose flap of skin firmly with one hand. With the other he began hacking away at a strip about 3 inches wide, 5 inches long. His blade was dull.
"Hey, George, you ain't cuttin' that critter as smooth as them other fellows," cracked Green, a small, tight smile on his face. Yamell, by nature a man of few words, only grunted.
The silence was broken only by the distant lowing of Green's cattle. Perhaps instinctively, the entire herd had moved to the far end of the pasture, huddled beneath a thick cluster of towering blue spruce.
Beyond, to the west, the peaks of the Rocky Mountains rose into the clouds. But here, 6,500 feet above sea level, there were no clouds. Only a perfect, clear blue sky to the eastern horizon, and miles of gentle, rolling pastures in between, blanketed with tall, yellow grass, graceful spruce and a few windmills turning in the light morning, breeze.
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