Monday, July 21, 2008

Hispanic Heritage - Gloria Estefan Music Art Poster Print, 17x22

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My great grandfather, T.E. Mitchell ran a large cattle ranch in NE New Mexico in the late 1800's. This story came down through the family. I believe it's true, but have no way of fully proving it.

During branding season a chuck wagon was used to move around from pasture to pasture and feed the cowboys after their days work, as well as waking them up to breakfast each morning. T.E. had a cook they called "Cookie"; not very original, I know, as most chuck wagon cooks were called that in those days.

One morning just about dawn when the men were still dozing, my great grandfather awoke to hear Cookie singing a little ditty to himself quietly. TE rolled over and looked towards the back of the chuck wagon where the cook was kneading dough for biscuits. Cookie was very into his work and once in a while, as he sang, he would do a little jig and dance to the tune.

However, as Mitchell watched, he saw in the dim firelight a small shape off to the side. It was difficult to see in the early light, but the shape was moving. It seemed like a small black blur and would move toward Cookie and then back off a little. As he watched, my great grandfather finally realized it was a skunk, and it was about to bite Cookie! As the cook sang, the skunk would spring forward only to back off again when a dance step was orchestrated.

TE always slept with his 30-30 next to him on the bedroll, so he grabbed the rifle and spoke very quietly. "Cookie," he said," I'm going to shoot at your feet, Jump!" Mr. Mitchell had a soft spoken voice, but it carried authority, and as the words left his mouth, Cookie jumped right up onto the chuck wagon tail gate and landed in the middle of the dough he was kneading.

The shot was a good one and the skunk was killed instantly, not even able to discharge the dreaded skunk smell. They knew it had to be rabid to attack a human like that, and in those days a bite from a rabid animal was often fatal. So, even though the cowboys had to go without biscuits that morning, they continued the roundup in good spirits.

Story by Jay Hopson

For more of this authors work visit http://thechuckwagon.net

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