Saddle Horn

A pretty girl is driving through the West. Her car runs out of gas, and an Indian comes along on a horse, gives her a ride to a gas station. Every few minutes he lets out a wild whoop that would curdle milk. Finally, he drops her off with a final Yaaaaa-Hooo! and gallops off.

"My god!" says the gas station guy, "What the hell were you doing to that Injun to make him holler like that?"

"Why, nothing," says the girl, "I just sat behind him with my arms around him, holding onto his saddle horn."

"Lady," says the guy, "Indians don't use saddles."