Drive - A Memoir 64th Installment
“What
are ya’ll doing out here abouts,” one guy drawled, definitely
from the deep South.
“What’s
it to you?” one of our guys challenged.
“Nothing
ya’ll, just asking,” the other guy double drawled, definitely
further south than the first Southerner.
Barney
defused the confrontation saying, “We’re at the beginning of a
jackrabbit drive. We’re going to line up and chase the jackrabbits
into a pen and kill them. There are way too many jackrabbits around,
and we need to get rid of some of them.”
“What,
ya’ll mean the cute little bunny rabbits need killing?” The
other fancy said.
“No,
jackrabbits – you know about jackrabbits? They’re big, fast,
lanky, mean and half loco.” I told them. “They’re about a foot
and a half high with sharp teeth, dangerous claws, long ears and
they’re NOT little cotton tails hopping down the bunny trail.”
This
is when Wade sauntered over still chuckling over something, and said,
“Those jackrabbits he’s talking about are the little ones. What
we’re really looking for are Jack–a–lopes.”
“Jack–a–lopes?”
the first guy said. “I’ve heard tales bout them.”
“They’re
about this high,” Wade said, holding his hand level at his chest,
“and they have horns and long ears. Watch out though; they’re
fast, running on all four legs instead of hopping, and a little
dangerous with sharp antlers. That’s why we carry such big clubs.”
“We’re
going with you on this drive,” the city slickers announced.
“Be
our guests,” invited Barney with a sweep of the hand and a bow.
The
strange strangers looked around for a club of some sort. The one goon
was trying to pull a thick sage brush out of the ground; really
throwing his weight into it with no avail. We thought this was pretty
comical because we knew a human can’t pull a sage brush out of the
ground – their roots are far too deep in the ground. We also knew a
sage brush is too gnarly to break off. The sage brush is desert
hardened. The other knucklehead was rocking back and forth on a fence
post trying to break it off, I guess.
“Knock
it off, you hoodlum,” Barney threatened. “Leave my fence
standing. Come with me, I have some pretty big sticks in my truck.”
I
noticed the jackrabbits getting thicker. They were definitely on the
move, some even dashing across the highway causing some cars to slow
down or swerve. “Look there, by that rock pile, the horsemen are
coming,” I shouted.
“Okay,
let’s roll,” Barney directed. “Line up along this fence about
fifty feet apart. The guys in the far end of the line sweep in behind
the horses as they pass. Keep driving the jackrabbits northwest; the
cowboys will ride away, and it’ll be up to you guys to push the
jackrabbits. Don’t get out of line, or start fooling around or the
jackrabbits will
500 more words tomorrow
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