Story Homestead, Sweet, Homestead

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#44

Bruce remembered drinking water, but not how he got it. He noticed the fire was still burning, but didn't remember putting wood on the fire. He did remember screaming, when the pain got intense, and then he assumed that he passed out. Just before a fresh wave of breath stealing pain erupted through his body, Bruce wondered if he would ever see Tricia again and he tried to send her love thoughts.

Chuck and the mare and colt walked East, the pace slow going and frustrating. For the lack of being able to see in the smoky air, he fussed at the mare for problems out of her control. "If I could just find a hill to climb, maybe we could see how close the fire is and if we are going to burn to a crisp, or make it out alive."

The mare never answered, but kept on walking, turning her head constantly to see where her colt was. Every time the colt attempted to nurse, the mare stopped and firmly refused to walk, until he was done.

"You're sure a troublesome woman," Chuck scolded as he was startled by a small herd of deer that ran in front of them, in a panic run away from the approaching fire.

"Come on sweetie, lets step up the pace, that's not a good sign. I wonder if you could trot with me on your back. I think right about now is a good time to test that theory," and Chuck heaved himself up and across the back of Moss. Setting the broad back of the work horse was uncomfortable, and the mare wasn't happy, but responded with the slowest trot Chuck had ever seen. "Moss is a good name for you, you run like a dry hydrant," Chuck complained as the wind blew a gust of fresh air at them.

In the instant clearing of the heavy smoke, Chuck could see the fire about a quarter mile away and to his upper left. "Ok sweetie, like it or not, trot!" he commanded, as the smoke rolled back in to obscure his sight. Chuck started praying, he needed all the help he could get.




Mark and the set of wagons went thundering across the open prairie in a desperate race to avoid the fire. The heavy stinging smoke clogged noses and set eyes to watering so bad, it was difficult to see. They stumbled onto the small lake almost by accident, and bogged the heavy wagons down in the marshy stretch along the banks.

The wind swirled and eddied, sending showers of sparks and burning grass leaves floating down on the wooden wagons. "Throw water on the wagons," the shouts went up and down the mired wagon line, "don't let them burn." The men threw water on the horses also.



Andy looked around, feeling spooky vibrations run up and down his back. The wind was pushing the tall grass in circling patterns, a tiger could be hiding in the natural cover and he wouldn't be the wiser. Depending on his horse to alert him if the sworn predator was close, Andy had his rifle cocked and ready to fire.

The smoke was getting thicker and Andy had the sinking feeling that he was probably going to be the tiger's lunch. There was no tracking the cat with the wind blowing the grass in ripples across the ground. Andy made the decision to find a hill and see if he could spot the fire.



Donny and the couple trotted hard to the East, trying to outrun the choking smoke, feeling the scared terror of not knowing where the fire was. The horses ran in a panic, bouncing and nearly throwing Chester off the wagon seat. "Stay down and hang on," he yelled at Donna.

Donna was hanging on, her fingers bloodlessly white in the strength she was gripping the back of the wagon seat.

"Pray," Chester shouted again, "this is gonna be real bad."
 

RememberGoliad

Veteran Member
The suspense of what will come is building....and if it's building for those of us reading, just think about someone caught in the Clan's position(s)! Masterful storytelling, PAC! Thanks for sharing your gift with us :)
 

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
The fire is still a threat....

Maybe the wind will change....

Thanks Pac for the chapter....

Texican....
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#45

Clora felt the first thought come to her mind, something was wrong with Bruce. She could feel the danger and pain but couldn't tell where he was, or what had happened. Frowning, as she sat for a rest after the fire, Clora rubbed her temple.

"Ma, I'm getting a jumble of thoughts about Bruce. Have you 'seen' what is going on?" Tess came to sit close to her mother.

"I can feel that he has danger and overwhelming pain, but no reasons for either." Clora said softly as she poured herself a half cup of coffee. Tess shook her head no, when Clora held up the coffeepot.

"We have a bigger problem that that of Bruce. We are going to have to move, there is no grass here for the stock, and the water is polluted by cinders and ash. If you see Milo, send him over to talk to me, I need to get his take on the situtation."

"Are you going to tell Tricia?" Tess said softly.

"Not yet, I don't have anything definite." Clora whispered back. "if I get anything concrete, I'll let you know."

Tess nodded, stood up to straighten her back with a groan. "Oh, I feel like I'm a hundred years old. Since momma's tired, I think my boys need a nap," she chuckled, "now, I get why we kids had to go to bed early."

Clora gave her beautiful daughter a smile, understanding totally.

Milo came by, listened to his Mother, agreed and sighed hard. "If we harness up, we have enough daylight to get a couple of miles out of this charred land and into grass. Some of us will have to stay with the group that relocates and the rest will have to come back to move the rest of the wagons. I sure don't like splitting us up, that's a recipe for problems; but I don't see that we have much choice. I'll move you, Tess and Tricia first. Then Honey, Rennie , and the rest of the wagons.
Abby will be a good driver to help ferry.
Clora nodded her agreement. "Good thinking," Clora praised her son. "Millie can also help, she's much more capable than she lets on."

Milo made a face, but said nothing, preferring not to start a candid reply.



Bruce slept some, waking once during the dark and then again when it was light. He tried to roll over and couldn't; the pain making him pant in a desperate measure to control the evil monster chewing holes in his back.

He could reach his water cup, startled, that it had liquid still in it. Bruce was sure he had drained the cup the late afternoon before, and here it was, full of water. He frowned, trying to think out the puzzle of what was happening. The fire was burning well with fresh wood, so Bruce said in a moment between bursts of pain, "Is someone here?" his voice weak and trembling.

"Yes," the answer was the sound of an old man's voice. "I found you half dead, and I don't think you're any better, just still alive."

"Show your self," Bruce demanded, "who are you?"

"Silas Eugene Peachtree," and a long white beard floated down over Bruce's eyes, as the craggy shaggy, poc marked face loomed over his senses.

"Not so close," Bruce snarled, the man had terrible bad breath and Bruce was close to gagging.

"Oh yeah, … pardon. What's wrong with ya? You been doing a lot of screaming."

Bruce panted hard, willing his body to stop it's reaction to the pain. "Cancer," he gasped, as he passed out once again.



Mark ran down the line of stalled wagons with a bucket, stopping to throw water where it was needed. The clan members worked frantically as the horses neighed in panic, the heat and smoke closing in until Mark stood right next to a horse and couldn't see the animal.

Suddenly out of nowhere, the wind blew hard, and the fire burned back on itself and the group stood gulping in the fresh cool air. The smoke and fire turned hard to the West, leaving the clan looking at one another in amazement.

"Phew," someone behind Mark said, coughing hard until he retched.

"Where'd that wind come from?" Toby walked up with water still in his bucket. "Seamus, have you been busy?"

"Ah mon, I dinna mean to wait so long. I think I scorched the hair on me legs." Seamus coughed as he bent over to rub his legs.

"Ah Seamus, you need a longer kilt," Toby joked, shading his eyes with his hand. "That's unnatural for a man to see without losing his eyesight."

The large burley Scot stood up and turned around to frown mightily at Toby. "Yer a …" and his voice trailed off as Phoebe came hustling up.

"Seamus, are you hurt?" she fussed, "Is everyone alright?"
 

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Pac,

The hair on Seamus legs is scorched just how high up????

It is working out, but where is the tiger????

Thanks Pac for the chapter....

Texican....
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#46

Andy trotted toward the East, hoping to get out of the smoke and falling ash. His horse was skittish, shying at the slightest provocation, making the animal difficult to ride. "Settle down," Andy slapped the horse on the neck. "I don't fancy getting dumped and left out here with a fire and a tiger."

Ever mindful of the meat eating animal that was probably stalking him and his horse, Andy rode hard at a trot to get out of the vision obscuring smoke. It seemed like he trotted for an hour, before the smoke was thinning out.

He could only hope that Donny and the strange couple had put a move on and moved out of the fire's way. As for tracking the tiger, he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, it was probably the other way around. Andy felt certain the tiger would locate him sooner than he wanted; the animal a better tracker than he was.

Out of the blinding smoke, Andy found a small hill and rode to the top. It was difficult to tell where he was, as the fire and smoke roiled and boiled in a curtain of haze about a quarter mile away.

Andy stood up in the stirrups, to get a better take on where the fire was heading. Violently erupting beneath him, the horse shied sideways as the cat made a giant leap toward his latest prey. Andy collapsed into the saddle, or where the saddle had been. He clamped his legs around the barrel of the bucking horse, half in and half off the horse.

There was no chance to shoot, the bucking horse effectively waving the rifle in a wide arc, Andy started to swear. "You lop-eared, spavin boned, mule brained idiot of a horse, WHOA!"

If the horse hadn't been so frightened out of his mind, he might have heard. However, the smell of the tiger over whelmed and triggered the fright and flight instinct. Spinning and bucking, the horse blew snot and spittle against the vanished cat.

Riding his horse to a standstill, Andy reined the animal in a circle to watch his surroundings. No sight of the cat, no movement beyond that of the swirling wind in the grass. Andy could tell the tiger was still there, waiting and watching for it's next opportunity.

Breathing hard, he straightened himself out in the saddle and spoke disgustedly to his trembling, side heaving horse.

"Great going you stupid idiot, I can't shoot with you coming undone at the seams." Whatever Andy thought, didn't seem to phase the horse one bit. The horse rolled his eyes, showing the whites, nostrils flared and tail wringing his opinion of what had happened.

Andy looked at the sun for a quick estimation of the time. The sun was well past noon, the shadows growing longer as the daylight waned into evening. "Oh great, just what I need, night and a cat on the loose and no idea where Donny and the wagon are. Well you dumb jerk, we are going to run until we find some kind of shelter or a wide open area with lots of wood."

Gathering up the reins, Andy thumped the horse on the sides and the snorty horse broke into a run.



Bruce asked for more water, he could feel he was getting dehydrated and hoped that water would help calm the pain some.

"You know my name, what's yours?" Silas asked reasonably, "what kind of cancer have ya got.?Had it long? I'm thinkin that it must be pretty advanced for the way ya been hollering. How come yer out here all by yerself; somebody leave ya and ride off?"

"Jesus," Bruce said to himself, " I had to draw a blabbermouth." Trying to speak aloud and not being able to squeak out more than a whisper, Bruce sputtered his name.

"Bruce," he spasmed out. "Lost, can't find my wagon." and that was the last he remembered.


Donny kept out ahead of the jolting bumping wagon, looking for any area that was clear, where the fire couldn't get to them. There was a glade up ahead, he could see smoke and a couple of horses.
 

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Well the tiger is on the hunt and Andy and the horse are not happy....

Bruce has found a friend, maybe....

Donny has found two horses and a glade....

And the fire is still there....

Thanks Pac for the chapter....

Texican....
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#47

Donny slowed up, not wanting to burst into another man's camp without invitation. Behind him, Donna braced her feet against the wagon floor and hauled in on the reins, yelling "whoa!"

The horses obeyed almost instantly, they were tired of running and the wagon weight almost pushed the team forward, as the horses slowed and the wagon didn't.

Donny held up his hand to stop the wagon and Chester on his horse. "Give me a minute, I need to ask if we are welcome in this guy's camp." Donny could see the bowlegged form of an old man with a long white beard.

The man had a long gun and was staring hard in their direction. Donny walked his horse the last hundred feet into talking distance, and said politely, "Good afternoon Sir, do you mind if we share the trees and water for the night?"

"You got right neighborly manners," Silas responded, "you got a nurse with you, I got a real sick feller here."

"I'm not," Donny said truthfully, "but I don't know about the folks in the wagon. We've been trying to outrun the fire and just joined up for protection. Is it alright with you if I have them come in?"

"Sure, bring'em in, I'm Silas and your name is?"

Donny turned in the saddle and motioned for Chester and Donna to come on in. "Donny, and the man is Chester and the lady is Donna." Donny deliberately didn't include any last names, for one, he didn't know Chester and Donna's last name and for the second, he thought of himself as a son of Mark and Clora Linderman. He wasn't ashamed of his other name, and he sure wasn't ashamed of the Linderman name. He just wasn't sure which name to use.

Chester and Donna rode up and greeted Silas, looking over the untidy man's camp. At that moment, Bruce came too long enough to scream as a bite of pain ripped through his body.

"What the hell?" Chester leveled his rifle at Silas, looking around wildly for the source of the shattering noise.

"That's the fella I was telling the young buck about. I found him here, I heard his screaming a long ways away. Says his name is Bruce and he has cancer. If you wanna have a look at him, yer sure welcome. I ain't got anything to help him with. I'm Silas Eugene Peachtree, and who be you people?"

Donny looked over when Bruce screamed, "Hey, that's Dr. Bruce. What kind of problem is happening here. How did he get here and where are the rest of the wagons?" Donny was immediately suspicious, finding it hard to believe that Bruce of all people, was out here on the prairie all by himself.

"I ain't got no problems," Silas was quick to reply; "but he sure does."

"I don't understand this," Donny was muttering to himself, as he dismounted and staked his horse in the deep grass. Walking over to squat near Bruce, Donny waited patiently for the comatose man to come around in consciousness.

"I gotta talk to him when he comes too, something ain't right in all this." Donny looked up to see the three people watching him.

"Well I guess we should know how you know this guy, you been lying to us?" Chester got hard and squint eyed, staring holes right into Donny.

"NO, I ain't lied and it's a really long story," Donny stood up. "I don't like to sound bossy, but we're losing daylight, so we need to get the team unharnessed, watered and staked out to graze. If it's ok with you guys, I'll tell you all over supper."

Donny was hungry and Donna moved slow as molasses in January, when it came to fixing a meal.
Donna pursed her lips, she knew exactly what Donny was hinting about, but the other two men seemed clueless as to the small jab at her cooking ability.

Shrugging, she turned to catch the halter of the gelding in the lead trace. to turn the wagon so they were in a half circle to the already established fire.

Going to the back of the wagon, she got out the camp oven and the coffeepot. Circling around to the fire, Donna laid out her tools and went to the small creek for water.

Old Silas was watching her closely and his eyes lit up when he saw the coffee pot. Oh Lordy, what he wouldn't give to have a cup of good hot coffee. "Yer in tall cotton now," Silas said to himself, settling down to wait for the preparing of supper.

Donna came back with the coffee pot full and the bucket full in her other hand. "We need a lot of wood if I'm gonna cook supper," she said pointedly to Silas. The old man looked around behind himself to see if she had been addressing someone else. Nope, she must have meant him, and Silas shook himself up and went to find wood.

Donny was sort of hovering around where Bruce was lying, hoping to catch the man in a lucid moment.
 

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Donny and group find Silas and Bruce....

Where is the Tiger????

Thanks Pac for the chapter....

Texican....
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#48

Donny didn't have to wait long for Bruce to come too. But, there was no talking to the writhing man. Bruce's pain had him gasping, twisting and turning, in an attempt to lessen the pain in any way possible.

"Ya know, if I was you, I wouldn't get to close," Silas advised sagely. "That man's gonna be wanting a gun pretty quick; and you're sitting there way to close for him not to grab yer pistol. He's a man that has about reached his earthly limits of pain, and he's gonna be lookin fer a way to end it."

"Not Dr. Bruce," Donny defended the man he had known as a good doctor. "He and his wife have been good doctors, trying everything they know how to do, to keep people alive."

"Make no difference here;" Silas looked hard at the young man. "He may be a doc, but he ain't got nuthin to doctor with. I thought doc's never went anywhere without their doctor bag, like old Doc Adams on Gunsmoke."

"I never really paid any attention to what he carried," Donny said softly, "I don't know about any doctor tools or such. Now Miss Clora Ma, she's a real godly lady. She does a heap of prayin, and if she were here, she'd be praying over Dr. Bruce nonstop."

" 'Pears to me that's the only medicine ya got, maybe you'd better get busy. I'll tend to the others," Silas twisted his head toward Bruce, "at least prayin might give him some comfort."

Donny nodded and unbuckled his gun belt, setting it out of Bruce's reach. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand to lay it on Bruce's arm. Bruce jerked like he had been touched with a hot poker, crying out in hurt confusion.

Donny knew he would have skedaddled if he hadn't seen the same thing happen when Clora went to prayin over a person. She paid no nevermind, so he didn't either.

Donny started praying, cautious and unsure about what to say. Speaking in a whisper, watching Bruce tremble and jerk as the young man started asking God to intervene and take Bruce's pain away and then heal the doctor who was a good man and did good deeds to help people.


Chuck kept urging Moss to trot faster. The mare was stubborn and kept close track of her colt, and while they were moving as fast as the spindly legged baby could keep up, it seemed they weren't getting away from the dense smoke. Whenever the smoke eddied and cleared enough for Chuck to orient himself as to where he was and where the fire was, he turned more East, hoping to run out of the edge of the smoke.

Chuck was in a particularly dense patch of smoke, when Moss shied as a horse almost ran into them. "Hey," Chuck yelled at the smoke and shadow man and animal, as the shadow veered hard to the right.

"Hey, back at yourself, who are you, do you know how to get out of this smoke?" Andy shouted as his horse shied nervously when the colt materialized out of the yellow fog and the work mare whirled around to put herself between her colt and the strange horse.

"Hey, I know that horse!" Andy shouted again, and leveled his rifle at Chuck. "What 'er you doin with Mr. Seamus's horse?"

"You know Seamus?" Chuck shouted back, "I'm tryin to find him, I'm lost in all this smoke. We gotta keep moving, I've got a tiger trailing me and I don't know where it is."
 

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Bruce may have a chance with prayer from Donny....

Now being tracked by tiger may be a problem....

Thanks Pac for the chapter....

Texican....
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#49

A great howling wind started blowing from the East. Those caught out in the open, shivered as it was spookily reminiscent of the 'cleansing wind' of a few years back. The sound was enough to send cold shivers up a strong man's back, the screeching of fingernails on a blackboard.

"That's plumb otherworldly," Donny said to no one in particular, as he looked East and then back to the West. The sun obscuring clouds of smoke rolled back on them selves, the fire dying as the wind blew it back into already burned soil.

The blood orange sun glowed with it's high risen layer of smoke, and the people spared dropped to one knee to give thanks for the fire could have only been stopped by the intervention of God.



Mark grabbed for his hat at the wind started to rise, all up and down the row of wheel mired wagons, men responded in the same way. Almost instantly, the smoke rolled back, the wind freshening the acrid, nose stinging air they had been breathing.

Taking huge lungs full of clean air, the blessed oxygen and sudden calmness was shattered by the unearthly wail of Seamus's bagpipe.

The sturdy Scot was strutting up and down in the boggy water, blowing on his pipe with a mighty breath. Startled horses reared in the traces and then rushed forward , jerking several wagons out of the soggy muck.

Men scattered to grab the reins of their saddle horses and the halters of lead teams.

Mark had to draw his pistol and aim a shot into the air, the loud concussive sound startling Seamus into stopping his excessive ghastly noise.

"Stop that!" Mark roared into the sudden silence. "You're sending the horses out of their minds. Somebody is going to be hurt!"

Seamus was a poster child for astonished hurt on his face. "But me pipes were begging to make a noise to me Lord."

"And your children are in the wagon that the horses were trying to run away with. Put that set of pipes away Seamus and don't get them out again, you're going to get someone killed."

Right about that time, Mama Phoebe came around the corner of the wagon so totally enraged that her body was vibrating with anger.

"So help me Seamus," Phoebe yelled at the top of her considerable voice, as she was waving around a pistol that was more or less pointed at her astonished husband. "If Toby hadn't grabbed the team as they spooked from your caterwauling, we would have had four dead children if that wagon had overturned. I expect you to be a gentleman and do as Mark requested. If you don't, I intend to shoot that bagpipe full of holes and then burn it to a crisp. ARE YOU UNDERSTANDING ME!"

Seamus, standing in the soupy, muddy water dumbly nodded his head, eyes wide as he tracked the pistol waving wildly in his beloved's hand.

"Ahh Seamus, I really think you had better listen to the lady, she seems a little hot under the collar," Toby eased out into the water and pulled the pipe bag from Seamus's nerveless hands.

The blow pipes clanked together, and the weight of the pipe bag surprised Toby by it's heaviness. He almost dropped it into the mud, but the bag's decent was stopped by the strong hand of Seamus who shot out his arm and held the bag; but never took his eyes off Phoebe.

"Easy boyo, I don't fancy me pipes in the muck. Treat her gentle, I need to have a talk with me lady." and Seamus slowly started toward Phoebe. "Now Lass," he coaxed softly, "no shootin me please." The large man stood in front of his wife and held his hand out for the weapon.

"No," Phoebe refused, and placed her hand and gun back in her pocket. Hands on her hips, she watched Seamus come toward her. Phoebe has been so frightened for the children when the team started to bolt, that when Seamus got close enough, she burst into tears.

Seamus put his arm around Phoebe and walked her around to the back side of the wagon and some privacy. "Lassie, Lassie, I nae meant harm to the bairns,"

What Phoebe replied was garbled between crying sobs, and the rest of the men retreated quickly down the line of wagons to the double hitch that was mired the deepest in the mud.

"Shovels?" Toby said in a resigned voice, and made a face when Mark nodded yes.
 

PacNorWest

Veteran Member
#50

Milo scouted ahead, finding a stream and riding up the West side of the north to south running water. The fire had jumped the creek in several places, but the further North he rode, the grass on the other side appeared untouched by the conflagration.

Finally he found a shallow ford the wagons could cross, taking the double wagons of Clora, Tess, Tricia and a set of smaller wagons that Millie was driving to safety on the East side of the water.

"This looks fairly open, so stay alert and circle the wagons. Don't unhitch, we will need to add more wagons when I get them here. It's going to be close for us to get the rest here by dark. A good sized fire wouldn't hurt as a guide." Milo hinted strongly, but with a smile.

Milo wheeled his horse around and went charging back through the water at a gallop, waving his goodbye as he set a fast pace back to the remaining wagons.

Rennie, at the group of left behind wagons, looked at the fading daylight and sent everyone to load up in their wagons; and she set out, following the wagon tracks. The slow lumbering wagons creaked and rumbled as they went over the uneven, hillock ground; but Rennie was determined not to be caught out in the dark.

The second group of wagons were almost half way to their new stopping ground, when Milo came streaking into view. Stopping his horse on a hill, he waved his arm to hurry the group to join him.

Slapping the reins on the fat rumps of her teams, Rennie hastened the pace. Milo rested for several minutes as the horses strained below him to hurry. It was almost dark when the second group reached the security of the first group. The large fire was indeed a fine beacon, the flames very visible in the somewhat flat ground.

Clora and Tess had cooked huge amounts of stew, so the second set of lady drivers were able to eat and feed children right away. As Millie watched the triplets and fed them supper, Rennie brought over TJ, Duncan and Lyric; and she went to help Tess and Milo unhitch and stake out the horses.

Clora had started the bonfire in the trunk of a downed, dead tree, and it roared as it gobbled up the dry wood.

"Ah Ma, don'tcha think that might be a problem if it starts another fire?" Milo was half serious as he watched the sparks spiral upward.

"I don't think it will cause a fire, something wants me to build the fire as big as possible," Clora confessed sweetly, watching the flames leaping skyward.


"Ok buddy, let's start walking the horses out of this smoke. You can walk in front of me, so I can hear your explanation of just how you happen to have Mr. Seamus's horse." Andy snapped as he kept his rifle leveled at the stranger riding the antsy workhorse.

Chuck started out with his long drawn out recounting of the mare and colt, until Andy's eyes started to glaze over with fatigue. Soon, he was riding asleep in the saddle, his horse following the familiar work mare.

Chuck looked back one time and reached over to shake Andy's arm. "Wake up kid, I don't want you falling out of the saddle and getting hurt."

Andy's head snapped up. "Geeze, will ya look at the daylight, it's almost gone. Can the mare trot some, we really need to put some miles away from this place. There really is a tiger trailing me. We met this guy with a circus wagon...……….." Andy stood in the stirrups as his horse trotted roughly.

Chuck felt like his insides were being blenderized on high, the mare ground pounding with heavy feet. The colt, being several hours old, was better equipped to keep up with his mother and they started covering the prairie in a hurry.

Trotting horses, and the riders concentrated staying on board with their heads bowed; when they ran into the wall of wind. Andy was blown backward in the saddle, almost going over the rump of his gelding. Grabbing frantically for reins, leather, saddle horn and mane, he managed to stay mounted.

Chuck ducked, burying his head in the mare's mane that was whipping and stinging his face with the volume of wind. The colt danced between his mother and the saddle horse, seeking protection. Mama Moss nearly turned herself inside out, stopping and rearing, pivoting around to find her youngin. "Hey," Chuck shouted as he slid off the table wide back of Moss. Holding on to the halter rope like it was his only lifeline with a white knuckled grip, he tumbled and got stepped on by the colt.

Grabbing his thigh with his hand to stop the muscle pain, Chuck started desperately talking to Moss as she backed up, head held high and snorting at the human on the ground.

"Here now you old idiot," Andy maneuvered his horse behind Moss to stop her backward retreat.
"Stop that, we have to get out of here."

The wind snatched Chuck's hat, sending it sailing back into the boiling smoke clouds. "Damm," he roared as he tried to stand and go after it. He made one step and fell, his thigh muscles crumpling with the strain.

That didn't set well with Moss who abruptly lunged forward, almost running into Chuck. Andy's horse reared and bucked. In the ensuing panic, there was a very close roar of a tiger, sending the horses exploding with panic.
 

Texican

Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
That didn't set well with Moss who abruptly lunged forward, almost running into Chuck. Andy's horse reared and bucked. In the ensuing panic, there was a very close roar of a tiger, sending the horses exploding with panic.

The tiger is back....

Thanks Pac for the chapter....

Texican....
 
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