1st few pages of my next, feel free to say what you think. Liam Canter, Half way between Austin and El Paso Texas, fall of 1868 Pulling back hard on the reigns of Pony! He stopped so fast my left foot slipped out of the stirrup and I almost fell out of the saddle. He made a low snort, letting me know that I hurt his tongue with the fast pull on his bridle. We (my horse, Pony, and me ) had just came out of the tree line into the open when looking north-west I could see a low hanging black rain cloud. Soon it would pour water down like the flood that almost got Noah. Rain from clouds like this would fill every ditch, gully, and ravine in a flash and flood all of them. This would cause Pony and me trouble if we tried to move at night. That was not the real problem; off in the distance I could see eight or ten young Indian braves. Out here I guessed them to be Comanche. Most of the Indians you see in a party of four, five or more were usually Comanche. Rest of them would travel in small parties of one or two, never more than three. This way they didn’t look threatening to the settlers and especially detachments of solders who had rather shoot them than take the time to see who they were and what they were doing. This is a cruel country full of cruel men and army officers looking to make a name that would be recognized back in Washington. These bucks were probably wearing nothing but a loincloth they had cut from an animal hide they had killed. Indians ride their horses bare back this gave them an advantage in a chase; the less weigh they carry means the faster and farther the horse will travel. I saw one Indian boy run a deer down and kill it with a club. I didn’t think I would have a chance if they spotted me. Pony was fast and young but weighted down with saddle, all my gear and me we would be overtaken in a short pursuit. Moving slow and staying low I got my foot back in the stirrup and slid off the left side of him. Holding his mouth to keep him quiet, I led him back into the wooded area. We slipped into a few trees that stood clustered about fifteen or twenty feet behind us. Out of sight, twisting pony’s neck, he silently lay down, we had practiced this a lot. I had trained him to lie down and be quiet. Pony would do a lot of things I asked of him. I had picked him up from a rancher when he was only a colt. He was dark brown with black stockings on all four feet. When I traded for him I called him pony; he seemed to like the name so it stuck him. From then till now I had called him Pony. He is about three years old now. We have traveled many miles together and had a strong bond between us like two close friends. Lying down and pulling my rifle from its holster under the front of the saddle as quietly and slowly as I could without making Pony jump up. I have saw cowboys with the rifle sticking out the back of their saddle. That never made since to me, a Comanche could be on you and have your own rifle sticking up your butt and climbing Jacobs ladder before you could say jackrabbit. I kept mine in a holster under the front of my saddle and handy. Lying down behind him and using his body as a shield I tried to not move a muscle. Having a little time to think while waiting for the braves to pass. I loosened his cinch on the saddle; this would give him a chance to get away just in case we were seen. He could travel faster without the weight of the saddle. As they passed I could hear them talking, what ever they were saying must have been funny because they all laughed.
Posted on: Fri, 01 Nov 2013 11:01:26 +0000