Quirt

He sprang into the saddle easily as a bird, got the quirt from the horn, and gave his pony a slash with it.

He paused a moment and flicked a sage-brush with his quirt.

[…] when the young man whirled his horse, “hazed” Jupiter in circles and belaboured him with a rawhide quirt, […] He ceased his cavortings […]

He wore a revolver down low, with ammunition belt, and carried a small quirt of some kind, and pieces of leather hanging everywhere, like a walking torture chamber: shiny shoes, low-hanging jacket, cocky hat, everything but boots.

She raised the handle of her beautiful quirt to her eyes and scanned the Western horizon.

He rode his horse with the reins tied and he wore a pistol at his belt and a plain flatcrowned hat of a type no longer much seen in that country and he wore tooled boots to his knees and carried a quirt.