"Whoa, whoa now, I say, WHOA!!" Call wondered what he was doing in the middle of the street facing the dangerous animal all alone. Realizing the futility of his efforts, he leapt out of the path of the charging bull in the nick of time. Head lowered, bellowing and snorting, the irate animal pawed the ground menacingly before disappearing down the alley behind the Lonesome Dove Hotel.
About this time, Mosby, coming out onto his balcony to survey his kingdom and have a smoke, was astonished by the spectacle of the bull's reappearance. One end of Twyla's clothesline was wrapped around his horns, and silken unmentionables trailed behind him in the mud, while the rotund little madam herself followed close on his heels, beating him about the hocks with her broom. Ruby and Eula Mae Longbottom, Curtis Wells' old maid gossip sisters, covered their mouths in horror at the sight.
Mosby was aghast. "Now, see here. What's the meanin' of this? Who's responsible for that animal? Zeke, Pratt, get out there and take care of it," he directed his two hirelings who were watching the goings on from a safe distance. The two men hastened to do his bidding, but the affair was far from over. As the two tried to corner him, the brute took a sudden turn and headed straight for Lau who was crossing the muddy street carrying a basket of Mosby's clean laundry. Before everyone's astonished eyes, the bull charged, head lowered, catching Lau neatly on his horns and tossing the little man high up into the air. Descending, Lau landed astride the bull, and Mosby's laundry landed in the mud. With an astonished bellow, the bull took off down the street, Lau clinging to his horns for dear life.
Sauntering out into the street, Call picked up one of Mosby's fine, now-filthy, ruffled shirts and held it up with an amused smirk. "Hey, Mosby, you and me can be twins now," he called up to the annoyed town proprietor. "You won't be so dandified wearin' this."
Pratt snatched the shirt from Call's grasp and stuffed it into the basket along with the other soiled garments.
"Why don't you do somethin', Call? Didn't you used to be a cowboy?" Mosby called down to his antagonist.
Call made his now famous "safe" sign. "Ain't none of my affair," he said. Turning his back on Mosby, Call shuffled back to his bench with an amused expression playing across his grimy features. His part in the rodeo was over. It was time for a snooze.
"It's like livin' in a barnyard," Mosby was heard to say as he went back inside.
Mattie wandered out of the gun shop wearing her long johns and an unbuttoned shirt she had carelessly tossed over them. She headed across the street to the pump for her morning pitcher of water. Just in time, she saw the bull careening towards her and leapt up onto the pump housing out of harm's way. "What the hell? Here, grab on," she called to Lau as she pushed the pump handle up for him to catch hold of. Swearing a blue streak in Chinese, the little man did as he was bidden, thereby escaping a terrible fate at the mercy of the maddened animal.
By this time, Ike, pad and pencil in hand, was taking bets on the length of time it would take to subdue the marauding beast. The line in front of him grew long as actors and extras alike laid their money on the line.
And on and on it went for a while with folks running for their lives as the bull ran amuck in the streets. The situation was growing increasingly desperate when the bull, tiring from his long tirade, saw a chance for escape and took it. The door to the Lonesome Dove had been left ajar by some careless patron, and in ran the bull.
"My china!" shouted Amanda as she fled out the open door. Her ample assets caused her to bounce off Luther who was crossing the street to see what all the fuss was about. He caught her before she ricocheted into the dirt, er . . . mud.
"Now, hold on," he admonished her as he placed her safely on her feet again. "Let me see what I can do." You see, Luther was not easily cowed. And he did not want to be branded a coward. The big man headed into the Dove, closing the door behind him.
Soon a tremendous amount of noise was coming from inside the hotel, banging and crashing and splintering sounds that struck terror into the hearts of the citizens as they waited for an outcome to the debacle.
Ike got up his nerve and watched through the window for a time. He reported a blow-by-blow to the others as Luther wrestled with the ornery critter. "Luther has him by the horns. Now the bull's on top. Now Luther's on top." At last the slimy Ike could take no more, and he covered his eyes and turned away. It was anyone's guess how this whole thing would turn out. The big fella was on his own and no mistake.
And then . . . all was quiet. The townsfolk waited uncertainly, wondering what they should do.
But what was this? A delicious aroma had begun to emanate from the building, causing everyone to lick their lips and drool uncontrollably. What was going on in there?
At last the hotel door flew open, and the mountain man himself emerged ringing a dinner gong. "Come and get it," he yelled as they all flocked inside. And Curtis Wells was treated to the biggest barbecue any of them had ever seen.
Luther had saved the day.
The End
10/2001
