Cowboy's History Not Accurate,
But Near Enough For Dude Work

By Curt Brummett

Well, people, I got into a situation the other day and, if I say so myself, I thought I handled it pretty good.

Since I've been in the position of "KEEPER OF THE DUDES AND DUDETTES," I've had to come up with some rather impromptu solutions to some rather impromptu situations.

Now I've always said that I think quickly under pressure — quickly, not clearly — but I do manage to think of something. Pressure excites me.

After I had handled the situation, I got to thinking I may need to get a little advice from an expert or two. So I did.

This past weekend in Lubbock (that's Texas), I asked two experts for their expert opinions. And I got 'em.

You see, I needed to know just how accurate my thinking session wasn't, because of the subject matter.

I do know that I had a few dudes and dudettes convinced and confused. But I did it on purpose.

We were getting ready to go out on a trail ride, and one of the dudes asked about some of the local history. I don't know much about local history, because I've only been around here for a little more than a year.

But I do know some about Texas history.

I know that what you are about to read is not exactly correct, but I think it's close.

I told the dudes that they would be riding past a couple of historical sites that haven't as yet been listed in the book of historical sites. But not to worry, because by this time next year there would be little metal signs all over the place.

Anyhow, I had their attention.

I explained about how we would be riding past a place called "Hanging Woman Creek." It was named simply because when Sam Houston came through this country looking for the Alamo (which he never found) he got lost in all these stinking trees (which is why he never found the Alamo) and as he was trying to find his way out of these trees he came across an Indian squaw hanging in this tree right beside the creek.

Now old Sam may not been much on navigation, but he had a quick wit about him and promptly named the creek for his chance discovery.

Well, a couple of days later, he came upon this Indian brave that was camped out and seemed to be enjoying the day. Old Sam asked the Indian about the woman over by Hanging Woman Creek.

The Indian was Apache, and Old Sam for some reason or other either spoke Apache or the Apache spoke Sam. Not that it makes any difference, because this is my story and all I know is they communicated.

The Indian told him she was his wife.

Old Sam asked, "Why did ya hang her?"

The Indian replied, "I just got tired of her lip. You see, she was just so mouthy, she got us banned from the tribe because she was causing so much trouble amongst the other squaws and their husbands. Boy, she could sure stir up trouble.

"She organized all them other squaws into burning their deerhide bras and not scraping buffalo hides on Fridays unless they drew time and a half. And she got all them other squaws to thinking that us braves actually needed to help gather firewood.

"After they kicked us out, I thought she would straighten up but she didn't, and you know the rest of the story."

Well, Old Sam thanked him for the information, wrote it all down for future generations to read about and went on his way trying to find the Alamo.

Old Sam realized he was gonna be late in finding the Alamo, so he did the next best thing.

Yep, Old Sam started the very first Texas State Employment Commission. He sent word out all across the land for people to get to the Alamo.

Sam was new at this employment thing and he failed to check out the resumes of his applicants. But he did hire a feller named Travis, one named Bowie and a Davey something or other.

What he failed to do was notice on their reference sheets that they did not work or play well with others.

Well, you know the rest of the story.

The two experts I asked about this are Elmer Kelton and Paul Patterson.

Both were in complete agreement that it wasn't all that correct, but the way things are going now it may not ever be.

Works for me.

I finished the ride by taking the dudes and dudettes through a place we call the "Forest Pert-Near Primeval." It is so quiet back in those trees, all you can hear is your horse's feet as they walk.

Yep, sounds just like it did before women got the vote.

I almost didn't survive that explanation. I was outnumbered something fierce.

Sometimes my quick thinking scares me.