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12 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

CHAPTER TWO

All the snow that melted and soaked into the grass sure did perk up the countryside.

I guess I always liked the springtime best of all seasons. Now is the time to carry out my

plan. I sat on the high spot I favored. I could see in all directions from here. To the

southeast, I could see the cabin, corrals and the barn. To the south I could see the big meadow

and the tree line on the horizon. To the east, the huge canyon, that made its way to the plains.

To the west I could see the still snowcapped peaks of the “Sangre’s” and to the north, I could

see all the way to the Spanish Peaks way over in Colorado.

From the top of the little rise where I sat I could almost visualize the scene that Uncle

Trent saw when he got back from Old Mexico where he’d gone to buy some mares. That was

way back in 1915 and it sounds like he found himself faced with a hard time convincing some

of those desert ranchers to sell to him. He rode a three-year-old son of Tamale named

“Caliente”. When they saw that horse, I figure someone wanted him awful bad.

There were some folks down in Mexico raising horses and trying to improve their

remuda, so he attracted a lot of attention. Caliente was a big chestnut stallion and the Ranchers

knew good horseflesh, so they traded. I’m not sure exactly where he went down there. His

journal that I found and read was sketchy about his trips to Mexico.

I checked around and found out about a feller down in the Mexican desert in the state of

Chihuahua named, Francisco Guerra. I got information that he’s supposed to have some of the

best horses in the whole country. Maybe he would sell me some mares.

That’s where I’m going now, to Mexico. I’m hoping to make a deal for some mares

from that bloodline. I’ve still got a bunch of Tamale’s blood in my herd and even have a

son of him that I’m using as my herd sire. Most all of my mares were related to

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