HLM – Chapter 850 The Lasso Pole

After the black horse king and the golden-brown horse entered the stable, the other wild horses seemed a bit tempted, but most of them remained suspiciously at the doorway, peeking in without stepping inside.

Seeing that leading by example didn’t work, Wang Bo rolled up his sleeves, ready to push forward himself. Malong stood nearby, smiling, seemingly enjoying the spectacle.

This annoyed Wang Bo. “Come on, buddy, it’s your job. You should be the one to handle this.”

Malong chuckled. “Since it’s my job, let me do it.”

Wang Bo looked at him. “You have a good idea?”

Malong replied, “It’s a basic method. Would that count as a good idea?”

Intrigued, Wang Bo asked, “I’m all ears.”

Malong picked up a leather rope from the horse pen. “Have you ever played with a lasso?”

Wang Bo shook his head. “Sorry, I only know about the lasso pole.”

“Oh right, the lasso pole works too. Do you know how to use it?”

Wang Bo shook his head again. “I don’t know how to use it, but I can sing: The man with the lasso pole is mighty and strong!”

Malong, always smiling, was suddenly stunned. He didn’t understand Chinese and exclaimed in surprise, “What did you say?”

Wang Bo explained the song “The Lasso Pole” to him. Malong laughed again. “Then it must be a very beautiful song. But we can listen to it later. Come on, I’ll teach you how to lasso a horse.”

He handed Wang Bo a leather lasso, a long rope attached to a leather end, over six meters in total—about five meters of rope plus one meter of leather.

But Wang Bo didn’t know how to use it.

Nearby, wooden posts were planted in the ground. Malong instructed him: “First, make the rope fly, spin it, spin it, spin it. You need to get familiar with it, so that even without looking, you can feel its presence.”

Making it spin in the air was easy for Wang Bo, but controlling it properly proved impossible.

In Malong’s experienced hands, the lasso was simple. He twirled it casually, flicked his wrist, and threw it—the lasso landed perfectly on the post.

Then Malong pulled the rope back sharply. “Swish!” The rope snapped tight around the post.

“Cool!” Wang Bo clapped.

Malong chuckled. “Honestly, this is basic, the simplest part. Now you try.”

Wang Bo gathered his courage, swung the lasso through the air with whistling motions, aimed at the post, and gave it a hard throw.

But he misjudged the force and direction. The lasso didn’t reach the post and fell halfway down.

Seeing this, Malong couldn’t help laughing. He went over and demonstrated again. “Not just spinning it like that—make it fly, really make it fly…”

Wang Bo frowned. “There’s no way I can learn this quickly. Do you know how to use a lasso pole? I’ve seen our Mongols lasso horses—they make it look so easy.”

After all, the lasso pole was rigid. Once you caught up to a horse, it was just a matter of quick reflexes to loop it around the horse’s head.

Malong shrugged. “True, it’s not something you can learn in a short time. Today I just want you to get familiar with it. I’ll handle the lassoing myself!”

Wang Bo refused. “No, I want to lasso the horse myself. I think it’s fascinating. How about this—we make a lasso pole, then you guide me while I lasso a horse?”

Malong agreed. “Of course, no problem. But it will take more time.”

Wang Bo laughed and patted his shoulder. “Hey, sir, time is best when it flows slowly. Why rush?”

Malong looked envious. “I thought the same when I was young. But now I’m no longer young. At my age, you understand, chief—time is precious.”

“Alright,” he said, still agreeing to Wang Bo’s request. “I’ll find two suitable wooden rods. Maybe Mackson can help. In one evening, we can make a usable lasso pole.”

With no work on the weekend, Wang Bo followed them to watch the making of the lasso pole.

Mackson nodded. “This is simple. I happen to have a few long camphor wood rods, already seasoned, perfect for making lasso poles.”

“Seasoned? You mean… lived? Do poles need to be ‘raised’?” Wang Bo asked curiously.

Mackson explained, “It’s a cowboy term. It means polished and treated to be flexible. Wild horses can panic when lassoed, and if the pole isn’t elastic enough, it’ll break quickly.”

“Camphor wood is best—light, tough, and ideal for a lasso pole. But they aren’t long enough. We need to join two pieces,” Malong said enthusiastically.

A typical lasso pole has two sections: the lower, thicker main rod, and the upper, slightly thinner shoulder rod.

One single rod rarely reaches the ideal length for lassoing. Also, if you misfire, the shoulder rod may break when the horse steps on it, but the main rod usually survives. You can just replace the shoulder rod and continue.

Mackson’s camphor wood would serve as the main rod—it’s rare. The shoulder rod would use willow, which is abundant.

“Willow grows everywhere; camphor not so much.”

As he spoke, Mackson carved mortises at the joint ends, glued the rods together with superglue, and then used a hairdryer to set the adhesive. “Solid enough,” he said, shaking the pole.

Wang Bo asked, “Is it ready?”

Malong laughed. “Not yet.”

He sanded the joint to make it seamless, shaping the rod into a streamlined form. After brushing off the wood dust, Mackson wrapped it with oiled soft deerskin.

“This is for aesthetics,” he said. “You see, joining two rods leaves some mismatch in color and grain. The deerskin with oil hides it.”

“Used to be, we’d rub it with wet cow dung,” Malong interjected.

Mackson stroked his beard, smiling. “I’d still prefer cow dung if it were for myself. Gives the rod a certain weight—a cowboy’s weight.”

After treating both rods, the top had a lasso loop attached. Mackson let Wang Bo pick a style and riveted it on.

And just like that, the lasso pole was complete.

Wang Bo held it in his hands. Because of the deerskin, it felt a bit awkward, but using it to lasso objects was far easier than the leather lasso.