Hay yew misbehavin' mavins,

It's Griz. Well fer y'all who warn't thar, we was up thar in sleepy ol' Pioneertown agin adoin' sum serious mischief t'other weekend at the expinse a the locals. An' it's alweez amazin' ta me that while it's a simple thing ta git inta these li'l minin' towns, it's a whole nother thing ta git out. Them natcherly friendly townsfolk would jus' luv ta keep us ahangin' 'roun' beyond the weekend...as long as they's upwind a the gallows, that is.

I didn't, maself, pull up ta the outskirts a town till Saturdie but a few a our cowboys arode in on Friday ta set up camp once agin unner the stars. Did yew know that them boys astayed up ALL night? Yessir, that's what I was told. What's interesting is that what norm'ly takes Captain Ball three hours ta dew in apitchin' that big ol' tent-a-his by hisself, took six hours with six muleskinners aworkin' at it. 'Course, I'd 'spect one er two of 'em might a had a touch a whiskey durin' that time. Caint swear tew it, tho. Woulda been dandy ta have recorded all that, then aspeeded it way up ta entertain them, us latecomers an' the wimmens after supper sum night down the line. Whatdaya think?

Slept mosta the day Saturdie, they did. By Saturdie night, mosta them six "tent specialists" aturned in early still unner the weather an' all. But Purgatory was still astumblin' aroun' till late an' ahurled his big ol', not-sa-graceful carass onta Toolie in his tent an' after that, poor ol' Toolie couldn't git it up agin...the tent, the tent! So, that boy went ta spind the night in the big tent with the captain.

Wellsir, after a spell, Cap is awake 'cause a sum noise er 'cause he done slept all day, I spose, an' wakes up Toolie. Cap sez tew 'im, "Toolie, look up at the stars an' tell me what ya sees. Toolie replies, " I sees millions a stars an' even if a few a them stars has planets like Earth, an' if thar are few a them planets like the Earth out thar, thar might also be life." Cap sez, "No, you idiot. Sombody stole our tent!

Wellll, the captain wakes up everbody an' agathers all them grumbly muleskinners together an' sez, "Boys, it jus' aint right fer a bunch a lowdown, thievin' skunks ta sneak up on us an' rob us blind like that. My guess is it was that same bunch a renegades what I had a run in with here last year with them ants, the sneaky devils. Whadaya think? Howsumever, I caint rightly remember which tribe that was an' they didn't say, them sons-a-bitches. I knows it was them, tho, ahavin' 'emselves a good laugh out thar. But I sez we forms a posse an' rides out after 'em." Well, everone thought that was a good idear all ayellin' like they was, araisin' them's shotguns in the ar.

Only problem was that at that partic'lar time, t'weren't nobody in any condition ta even sit a hoss er keep the dang thing asteered onta the trail, full moon er no...Cap sez, "Well boys, we'll have ta find usselves sum fool farmer's hay wagon ta relieve him of." Then ol' Cody acomes ta life fer a moment er so an' sez with his finger in the ar, "Why don't we go pay ol' George a visit an' THIS time, take his whole stagecoach. We kin give it back after we finds them Injuns. Have tew sos we'll have sump'um ta rob the next time...and the next." Well, everyone seemed ta go fer that idear.

"Okay, an' Griz, you're the designated driver", says the captain. "Me agin?", I sez. "Why me agin?" "'Cause yer the worst shot a any a us an' after them bar brawls, one of us alweez has ta pull yer sorry, short ass outa them spittoons, right? Son, We're agoin' off ta the Injun Wars an' YOU'RE adrivin' the team. That's the end of it." Well, I was pissed but I hitched 'em up when we got thar, alla us atryin' hard ta be quiet with arunnin' inta each other, alaughin' an' afallin' on our asses an' all.

An' Cap asked White Hoss ta slap a sign on the back a that coach ta throw folks off by remindin' them ta be kind an' considerit ta them's neighbors as they's atravelin' the highways an' acomin' up bahind us. But he thought better of it 'cause we was so short fer time an sez ta Hoss, "Make a note cherself ta fix us up one in case we has ta dew this agin." An' Hoss, alweez ameaning ta please the captain like he does, got on it pronto. 'Course, like White Hoss's prone ta dew, he was abullshittin' with Smokey Jack an' didn't quite hear alla the captain's order. Now, he's the only cowboy I ever seen with "DON'T BE A DICK" abranded ta the ass a his mount. Now, aint that a disgrace...aclutterin' up good hossflesh like that. We gots ta show folks a little more class than that, boys. We gots a repitation ta hold up. Grievous, ifn ya ask me.

'Course, it coulda been worse. He coulda hammered out an iron on the anvil in the shape of a cowboy kid apissin' on a pinto (He hates them paints). And please, don't none a ya make no mention a THAT notion tew 'im--he don't need no more idears thank-yew-very-much. That hoss-a-his still has one clean cheek an' let's leave it thataway. Good thing it's white 'cause them burns don't light up sa bad as they could ifn it was a bay er a roan. Nuffa that.

Wellthen, Captain Ball tol' the wimmens an' the ol' farts, Cody, Acton an' them, ta stay in town an' keep an eye out fer gold shipments an such.

Annn', next day, we sweated Chumash & Cherokee alike an' acome up with nuthin'. Wyyy, more 'an half them tribes wasn't even at home when we called. Out thievin' tents, they was, I'll betcha...We even jumped them peacelovin', keep-ta-theyselves Navahos East a here two day's ride. But, they warn't the culprits nor did they know nuthin', neither.

Finally, after three days a sweatin', all cussed out ba now an 'no whiskey, we figgers we's lost 'em and haids on back ta camp. When we rolls in, all them wimmens is acrowin' an' acluckin' at once jus' like a henhouse fox visit. After we settles 'em down sum, they tells us the good news that Cap's tent is back an' put up jus' like it was but the bad news is that the campsite is completely trashed, muleskinner shit thrown everwhar. All the beef, crops an' whiskey is gone..GONE. Wyyy, them Injuns had a huge ol' party out here at our expinse. 'Cause I looks aroun' an thar's hyrogliffics a "EWE"s an' "HORSE'S ASSES"s apainted everwhar. The NERVE-a-them, I say.

No wunner we couldn't find them tribes on them's reservations. THEY WAS ALL HERE ahavin' 'emselves a good ol' time, them uppity, dang sons-a-bitches. Wyyy, I guess they don't know who they's adealin' with...er maybe they dew.

An' no wunner the tent's back...What self-respectin' Injun's agonna lay hisself down in a whiteman's tent? An' no dumb ol' Injun's agonna convince no white trader that that thar tent was jus' alyin' on the trail. First thing HE'D think is: burned-out, scalped, white settlers...I would. Wouldn' yew?

Well folks, at least none of us gots shot up er hung this time fer borrowin' George's coach. 'Course, the reason fer that is that Judge  Geraldo an' Preacher done bushwhacked the circuit judge on his way here from the county seat. An', as we 'spected, Judge Geraldo gots ta precide over the hangin's, heh, heh, what with him aridin' inta town with the Preach an' all. What could be more respectable than that? No one asked; no one told. Huh...Judge came up with that one hisself...purty good.

Well, that's it fer now yew lazy, antisocial, no-showin' sons-a-bitches. Thank yew fer not bein' here ta help...like drivin' part a the way. Wyy, I've a mind ta have alla a them hemoroids-a-mine asliced off an' pony express one ta each of ya.

...An' dontcha go atellin' nobody nuthin' 'bout this shit I been relatin' tew ya. Wyyy, if the word was ta git out, it'd spread like a prairie fire an' who knows, the whole world could hear of it. Shameful. Wy, we's probly the laughin' stock a alla Yucca Valley by now. Goes without sayin', y'all gots license ta shoot any Injun caught agloatin' an' aspreadin' THAT tale...

Yores,

Griz

P.S. By the way, them Navahos is a strange bunch. Mostly wimmens, I 'spect. I knows what a "ho" is but what the hail's a "Nava"?

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