The Cowboy Way of Doing Things
Do what’s right, ride tall, and keep your boots clean—it’s the cowboy way.
The day dawned bright and clear over the vast expanse of the Indian Territory, but it was not long before dark clouds began to gather in the distance, promising a storm. Benjamin Ben Harper, a rugged mustanger known for his ability to tame the wildest of horses, stood perched on a rocky outcrop, gazing westward toward the canyons glittering under the sun. His keen eyes caught a glimpse of the wild mustangs grazing nearby, their strong forms silhouetted against the dramatic backdrop.
œDamn it, they™re too close to the canyon, Ben muttered under his breath, clenching his jaw. He knew that if the rains came hard, those horses would be trapped, likely driven by floodwater down into the narrow gorge. But he also understood he wasn™t the only one with an interest in those horses. Poachers lurked nearby, their greedy eyes set on capturing the magnificent mustangs.
Five miles away, at the edge of his bustling cattle ranch, Jake Carter heard the distant thunder rumbling in the sky. He peered out over the fields, watching the darkening clouds with unease. His ranch was his life–his cattle, his land–and he couldn™t afford the devastation a flood could bring. Just then, he spotted Ben riding toward him, urgency in his stride.
œIt™s worse than that, Ben replied, dismounting swiftly. œThe storms are rolling in, and the mustangs are grazing too close to the canyon. If they get stuck when the floods come, its going to be a slaughter.
Jake frowned, the weight of the situation settling upon him. œYou mean the poachers might try to trap them in the flood? That would make it all too easy.
œExactly, Ben said, already formulating a plan in his mind. œWe™ve got to warn them while there™s still time.
As the two men mounted their horses, a feeling of camaraderie and determination surged between them. They™d faced many challenges together over the years, from rustlers to droughts, but this was different; it was about protecting a legacy–wild mustangs that embodied the spirit of the West.
They rode hard, each gallop sending up clouds of dust as they raced toward the canyon. wind picked up, whipping through Bens hair as he shouted, œWe need to herd them away from the edge! I™ve seen signs of the poachers along the trail.
As they reached the edge of the canyon, the horses were nowhere in sight. Shadows danced through the valley, and the ominous sound of rushing water began to echo. Bens heart raced. œThey must™ve sensed the storm, he said. œWe™ve got to find them before it™s too late.
They galloped deeper into the canyon, navigating the rocky terrain. œI can™t believe we™re doing this, Jake sighed, his voice barely above the sound of their horses™ hooves. œWhat™s the plan if we find those poachers?
œWe confront them, Ben replied, unwavering. œThis isn™t just about protecting the mustangs; it™s about standing together for what™s right.
Suddenly, they heard a commotion nearby–a group of men shouting and laughing, and the sound of horses whinnying in distress. peered around a bend and saw a small group of poachers attempting to trap the wild mustangs using nets.
Jake nodded, adrenaline surging through his veins. œLet™s show them what we™re made of!
With a fierce battle cry, they charged into the group, their horses surging forward. poachers, taken aback, scrambled to react as Ben and Jake swung into action. They kicked up dust as their horses galloped side by side, swiftly scattering the men and their nets.
Jake, equally fierce, tackled another man, bringing him crashing to the ground. œYou™ll get nothing here! he yelled, posture firm and unwavering. They fought with the intensity of a storm, the poachers quickly realizing they were outnumbered and outmatched.
As the last poacher fled, panting and defeated, Ben and Jake exchanged glances, panting in the aftermath of their confrontation. œDid we just do that? Jake asked incredulously, wiping sweat from his brow.
œWe did, Ben grinned. œAnd we still need to find the herd.
They pressed on, navigating the twisting canyons until they finally spotted the mustangs. The wild horses stood at the brink of a high ledge, gazing down fearfully at the raging waters below.
The wild horses shifted uneasily, their instincts battling against the fear of the approaching storm. Just as dark clouds opened up, revealing the first drops of rain, Ben made a decisive move. He dismounted and waved his arms, a signal that encouraged the horses to trust him.
With intense focus, he continued to maneuver through the leading horses, his heart pulsing with determination as the rain lashed against him. Jake remained vigilant, ready to intervene should any horse falter at the edge. Slowly but surely, they moved the herd toward the safer ground near the riverbank–away from the canyon™s treacherous depths.
But as the storm raged above, they still needed to ensure the mustangs remained safe from the rising waters. œThey™ll be fine here for now, Jake said. œWe need to find shelter and wait this out.
Hours turned into what felt like days in the storm, but eventually, the rains began to subside. Ben looked out over the herd, now calm and safe under his watch. Not far off, he caught sight of Jake returning, relief evident in his stride.
