Daily Prompt
Bounty

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

Deadwood Bounty

Winter was coming on, hard, long and strong in Dakota Territory. It would soon turn so windy and cold the buffalo wouldn’t even roam. The deer and antelope wouldn’t be playing diddly squat! They would just all stand around looking at each other with extra long faces,  icicles on their noses, from breathing frozen air. They knew they had no bed of roses to lay on, they had about nine months of winter ready to hit them in their rear ends.

It is always better to stand with your rear end turned toward the wind. It will still be cold but it won’t be hitting you in the face. I bet the prehistoric critters even did that, it don’t take a lot of smarts to know you don’t want frigid wind blowing straight into your face. That ice cold wind makes the tears run so fast you can’t even see, they run down your cheeks and freeze on your chin.

There are some absolute, universal, set in stone rules that apply to the wind, even if you don’t call the wind Maria. May the wind be always at your back. Always hang your wash and blankets out in the wind. Best to fly your kite on a windy day. Don’t ever spit, or pee into the wind. Wind that is passed, can last and last!

I had a problem in Deadwood when I made an early withdrawal with my six shooter. The folks at that bank didn’t cotton to that withdrawal method, very durn much. I grabbed the money and left town fast as my old horse could go. Them folks put a bounty on my head faster than that big city haberdasher feller put a new hat on me.

Slim, my sidekick thought it was time to head on down south, winter or not. He didn’t want posses chasing him all over creation until the meadowlarks come back in the spring, guess I can see his point there. We were probably the first snow birds who went south on horse back.

Sitting tall in the saddle we peacefully rode on South, the angle of the Fall sun warm on our faces. We overflowed with anticipation of fun and frolic, thoughts and anxious talk about old El Paso. It seemed to confirm we still had imaginations. We may have to discuss a stop in Wichita to see if any banks there have donations for our winter retreat, or sabbatical from the law.  Another bounty or two won’t make much difference one way or the other.

Slim and I was just outside of Wahoo Nebraska. I said, “Slim, I don’t like their Sheriff Edward Walker one little bit.” Lets camp outside of town there tonight and I will steal his horse.” We could use a spare horse on our way to El Paso, my old horse is getting awful slow, I can’t take a chance on some fast posse running me down.

I never did do well behind bars, in any jail, large or small, that dinky little window always drove me nuts. Those little jail windows draw birds like moths to a flame, then they all sing about flying away from these prison walls, stuff like that. Their little bird songs seem to all say, “your a jail bird, you can’t fly.” I’m a real bird, “I’ll fly away”!

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