Cowboy Planet Ch 2.
Loadin’ a whole dang herd of cattle onto some slickers slick lookin’ patty wagon is about as easy as chewin’ a bundle of rope weed after a big haul.
And that’s just what we were dun doing when Sheriff said,
“Great haul Daniels, you’re a right fine Cowboy. I was always givin’ Pop pop lip on puttin’ Daniels on your name. Often as ya sully it, that check book of yours is still balanced in my eyes Slim.”
Sheriff never took the time to bend on down and meetcha at eye level. Something I myself always took the time ta do.
Maybe he just had too much pride in every foot of Cowboy spirit he’d come to hold over the years. But when he spoke to ya, he spoke true to Cowboy planet.
True as can be anyway, Cowboys are an honest folk. But being honest don’t always mean being true.
“Sheriff, I do confess to ya.” I spoke solemnly, tenner to the chest. Head tilted back up towards that big ole’ Sheriff brim.
“I let off a few shots into that wild western sky. Didn’t feel right keepin’ you waitin’ seeing as we were behind The Schedule.”
I woulda kept my tenner held tight in salute but the feeling of poppin’ off a few blisterin’ rounds had me arms flailing. “Ricky righted me quick but, I ain’t ever met a cowboy who don’t like firing off his silver into the hills!”
Sheriff said, “We transacted with the city slicker, some slickers ain’t got the where with all to wait a few. That’s true.”
“Others it seems could stand to wait. Being that I meet ’em all, and greet ’em all, The Schedule was right good set.”
The Sheriff, now holding a long wink, “Wouldn’t’ve scheduled ya if a little shootin’ woulda scare the slicker back on home.”
Sheriff took his iron, lining the mighty big sights behind his mighty big un-winked eye.
Quick pull of the trigger sent steel the size of my own shooter out towards the nearest ridge. A puff of the ole dusty trail coming ’long with it.
“But I do suggest you work on that aim, Daniels, a shot absent a target is a missed shot. And every missed shot’s a sap of spirit right from your true blue Cowboy heart.”
Not one to miss a challenge, I placed finger on shooter, span it round for good measure, and dun did match his shot without linin’ up nothin'.
“Sheriff, I don’t miss, ain’t got no need to aim if you let your heart choose yer shot. Sky, hill, or one of them vermin’ trying his luck.”
Holstered my shooter proper Cowboy like. Steel hittin’ leather in perfect time with tenner hittin’ my dusty scraggled ‘do. A shade more brown than what’d you get if I weren’t the type of man to do what I do.
Herding round Cowboy planets tough long work, big place, big cattle, lots of dust.
Always thought we should keep ’em closer to where the slickers come pick ’em up. But we don’t, so I wrangle ’em cross the whole planet. Dust and all.
Why don’t we keep ’em clos- “By the way, Slim Jimmy. The Slicker requested a drover to help rally his wagon back on down to his destination.”
Dennis Ricky piped up as he spat down, having been stuffing his snarky mouth with a fresh knot of rope weed. “A drover?! What’s a slicker want a drover fer, he dun think Cowboy planet can’t keep ’er trails free of vermin?!”
Speakin’ right to my heart.
“It was his first transaction, being that he did mention Ranch Planet, he ain’t so familiar with the pride of our people Ricky.” said Sheriff.
“Ain’t one slicker ever filled this Cowboys heart with anything but a skipped beat and a sigh. The pride ain’t there, it’s no wonder they’re so small.” Ricky said.
Sheriff nodded slowly, but spoke true to the task. “Well I ain’t got no more cowboys comin’ round these parts fer another few rounds. He’s settin’ off in the mornin’”
The Sheriff pointed to an Inn where Slickers often rest while conducting business.
“If either you Cowboys feel you want to instill some pride, maybe give ’em a lesson or two on the ole dusty trail, just come find me.”
Sheriff turned away from us, lookin’ out towards his tent setup on the hillside over lookin’ town.
“If not, I reckon you’ll rattle on back and see how that new herds comin’ along.”
“S’what I intended, true to the Cowboy way.” I said.
“You know where to find me, ‘iffin you change yer mind.”
Sheriff started movin’ through town, careful not to impede on the other few folks movin’ about. Only takes a few steps really.
Hard enough being tall as we are, Sheriff ain’t got it easy, all that pride and soul. Envied all the same, I did.
“Well Ricky.” Tipped my tenner to the back of the Sheriff, who tipped me right back on instinct alone I reckon.
I turned to my equally sized friend, who was placin’ another knot of rope weed in his yapper. “I think we best head to the saloon, share a few rounds of rope weed with the hard workers keepin’ things movin’ fer us Cowboys.”
Ricky grinned. Cowboys ain’t supposed to grin. “All you had to say was rope weed ’n I’d follow ya darn near anywhere, partner”
Grins tend to be contagious, though. “Heh, even drovin’ fer that slicker?!”
He let it all out. “Haha, I’d rather eat nothin’ but apples for a whole darn round!!!”
Slicker’s sad sorry self took hold of my mind as we spur stepped on towards the saloon.
Tiny and pathetic as he might be, make sense he’d beg and plead for a drover out on trail. Heck, I’d beg for one too if I saw the pride of Cowboy planet in action, herdin’ that massive stampede right up to town for the first time.
Ain’t a cowboy never helped no city slicker. But Pop pop used to tell me being a Cowboy’s all about doing what never been done.