There used to be a dandy lot of cowhands around here, but they're all gone.
You couldn't see what your cowhands looked like, so you had no cause to distrust them.
This country warn't made for no humans—just Indians and rattlesnakes and cowhands is all it was intended for.
By the time he had driven the buckboard through the rough, rocky bottom of the Gap, the cowhands had been home for some time.
The Lone Ranger glanced in that direction and saw the cowhands, their work ignored, converging on the ranch house.
"I told you this country wasn't fit for nothin' but cowhands," growled Sourdough.