Page 25 - Tamale Ridge_113017
P. 25

23                                                                                                                   Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano



                    I really wasn’t surprised that she could speak English as well as she did. Obviously, she had a

               good education.  Her father was rich and it wouldn’t be fitting for his children to be illiterate.  I


               also thought about the man that started this ranch that I was just riding onto.

                    My uncle was killed.  Perhaps poisoned by someone who knew him well enough to be having


               supper with him.  Juan had seen the other man having a meal with my uncle and two days later,

               he died.  Why would anyone want Uncle Trent dead?  From all I knew, he was the kind of feller


               that would give you anything you asked for.  I regretted not knowing him and at the same time I

               became more and more acquainted with him and his ways.  He was a better builder that his


               brother Robert.  Uncle Robert would throw a few boards up and call it a barn.  Uncle Trent built

               things to last.


                    I admired some of his innovations every time I had a job to do.  When we worked cattle in the

               corrals, every gate and alley had been built with care and with much planning.

               The way he situated the cabin and the fact that he built it over a live running spring. It sure was


               handy to have water in the house without carring it in buckets.  All you had to do was keep a

               little water in a jug and prime the hand pump and you would rewarded some of the best water


               you could ask for.  No matter what else you did, you got in the habit of keeping that jug full.

                    I was always finding things.  One day I was cleaning out the barn and under some old canvas,


               wrapped up carefully, was a Winchester model “92” rifle, in the .25-35 caliber.  Also there were

               two boxes of amunition.  The rifle was clean and in very good condition.  It appeared to’ve been


               left here on purpose in case it was needed so I put back where I found it.

                     The watering situation worked like a charm.  The barn stood strong and large enough to do


               anything you might need to do in an open area, protected from the weather.  There was a

               blacksmith’s forge and a set of bellows and every kind of tool you would need to work on a






                                                                                                           23
   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30