William Parker Carr worked on a Smoky Hill River ranch with Joseph Reed and E'lon. They tended a stable of stagecoach horses. E'lon, a black American, shod them.
Carr liked this job just fine until two dozen whooping Indians galloped up. He knew they hadn't come to hire stagecoach nags, so leaving the Indians to steal whatever they wished, Carr, Reed, and E'lon hightailed it through the barn's back door.
Ahead in the prairie lay a big depression. "A buffalo's bathtub," Reed called it. When it held a few inches of water, herds of buffalo rolled in it, throwing dirt and water this way and that, then rising up plastered with mud. In this way, they fought flies.
The three men dashed to the now-dry buffalo wallow, deep enough for the men to lie down and hide. They didn't remain safe for long. The Indians, intent on mayhem, showed up and put a bullet in E'lon's forehead. Carr and Reed dragged his body in front of them to act as a barrier.
Sundown rescued them. Carr and Reed crawled out of the wallow. E'lon, more alive than supposed, stirred. Soon he appeared as alert as they did.
"We thought you were dead," Carr said, "or we never would of used you that way."
But E'lon shrugged it off. "I didn't mind being your cover."
Coming soon in
THIEVES, RASCALS & SORE LOSERS
by Marilyn June Coffey
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