Six of them came up out of the ravine after him. They were Paiutes and Paiute ponies were fast. But the ravine was far enough away from him that he had a good lead on them. Hopefully big enough to outrun them all. After all, when he mounted this horse back at the station the stationmaster there told him this horse could really fly, even outrun the wind if it had to. Now he’d find out or die trying. There were still quite a way to go.

 

He was perfect for this job. He was an orphan. Orphans were preferred. Weighed less than 125-pound requirement. And he was small. Another requirement. He was fifteen. He looked back as he spurred his pony on. They came at him single file fashion, an old Indian trick. Fewer targets that way.

 

He pulled out his six-shooter. Checked it over. It was loaded.

“Oh God, help me get out of this please. Please I beg of you God.”

 

The lead Paiute, though still a way away, was within range and he figured that if he shot the lead man, then maybe the others would give up, it being too dangerous to lead the attack.

 

So, he fired. He saw that he had missed. But what he did not see, nor did the Paiutes see, was that the earth underneath the sixth Paiute suddenly opened itself up, swallowed him whole horse and all, and then closed itself back up as if nothing had ever happened.

 

Again, he prayed, “Make my aim true this time God.”

Again, he fired again. Again, he missed.  And again, unbeknownst to all, the last warrior fell into a fathomless abyss. The lead warrior kept coming.

 

Praying that the third time would be a charm, he fired. Again, it was the last Paiute   who was gobbled up by the good earth. And again no one saw that. 

 

But now as he rounded the bend, he could see for the first time that there were only three warriors after him. Though he had missed the lead man each time, somehow, he had shot three of them.

“Thank you, God.”

 

He fired at the leader again and this time because of the bend in the road, he saw the earth spread itself open and suck in the last warrior.

 

There were only two now and he had only two bullets left. He decided to press his luck. He fired his fifth shot. He saw the last rider meet his doom. Only the lead warrior remained. Only one problem though. He had an arrow in his bow aimed right at him. 

 

He turned back around and spurred his horse on. That’s when he felt the arrow go deep into his back. Thank God I turned around just in time he thought, or I would have taken one in the chest he said to himself. He transferred his gun to his left hand, dropped the reins, and then with his right hand reached back to pull the arrow out but try as he may it wouldn't budge it, and it hurt like hell for him to mess with it any further. He transferred his gun back to his right hand while fumbling with his left hand for the reins. All this fidgeting around had helped the Paiute gain on him, and he was ready with another arrow.

 

“Please God don’t forsake me now.”

​

Then suddenly he felt his pony jump up. He looked down. A bottomless pit lay below him. He looked at his horse. It had sprouted ten-foot wings. He turned and looked back. The Paiute was gone.

The pain did him in and he passed out as his pony whirl winded him to the station.

 

Mac, short for his last name McIntosh like the apple, the stationmaster there, took him down off his horse.

“You okay Timmy my boy. You, okay?”

Timmy was unconscious.

 Mac sprinkled some water from Timmy’s canteen on his face baptizing him awake.

 

Timmy shook his head, took in his surroundings, and realized where he was. He reached back for the arrow but after patting himself all over a dozen or so times, he realized it wasn’t there. He looked at his hand, no blood.

​

Mac was perplexed by all that grubbing around.

Timmy wasn’t. He was silently thanking God.

“What happened out here anyway? You made your run in record time, son.”

“Paiutes.”

“How many?”

“Six.”

 

Mac took Timmy’s gun from his waistband. Looked at it.

“Got five of them huh. Saved the last bullet for yourself did ya just in case?”

 “No, I outran the last one.”

 “Well, you certainly had the horse for it. That’s for damned sure.”

 “The stationmaster back there never told me what my horse's name was. What was its name anyway?”

 “No, it wasn’t Anyway.”

 

They both held it in as best they could until finally, they both burst out laughing.

 “Never you mind, and no the horse’s name wasn’t Never You Mind. Just be thankful you were blessed with riding him on your glory ride.”

“I am. Believe me I am.”