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155 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

I rode with the men and did as much as any one of them, just to show Ramon, I was capable

of the jobs. The work there was much the same as in America with the exception of barbed wire.

You didn’t see much of it in Mexico. This ranch was perhaps one hundred thousand acres,

counting the land that Guerra had been using for many years that did not belong to him and not

one cross fence to be seen. There were a couple of sets of corrals, mostly made of wooden posts

and straight logs. I didn’t see very many boards around here. There was the mares’ pasture and

it was fenced but nothing like what was going on in the “States”.

I tried to avoid a confrontation with Romaldo but he was bound and determined to let

everyone know just how bad he hated me for coming along and asking for the hand of the most

beautiful young lady in all of Mexico. I had heard more than once that he wanted her for

himself. Finally, when we were branding some bigger calves, he pushed the issue to where I was

going to have to be called a coward, or fight him. I was pretty darn sure I could handle myself

and not have to get whipped but you just never know how tough someone else is till you tangle

with them. My time in the Marines and all the training I’d had in the hand-to-hand, self-defense

tactics paid off.

Romaldo stood close to my height and was a little heavier, I’d say. He swung a right and I

ducked it and gave him a hard punch to his belly. It took some of the air out of him right away.

I stood there and let him catch his wind and told him to just forget about fighting me. He ran at

me and tried to kick my legs out from under me. I side stepped his attack and pushed his head

down as he came by. He fell face first into the dirt and just got madder. I let him stand up and

he came at me like a big bull. I stepped to my right and punched him in the gut again and this

time when he was on his way down again, I caught him and held him up. He was shaking and I

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