Month: November 2023

The Saga of Miles Forrest

by Ira Paine, Posted on
Two-Bits, Molly’s horse, has been stolen.  There has been a gunfight at the jail in Durango and one of the miscreants has been captured.  The crooked marshal of Silverton is waiting trial or escape, but it seems that only one of his men has remained loyal, the others fleeing or lying in the street dead.  Miles has followed Lark Collins up the Animas Canyon and has stayed the night at a small hotel in Hermosa.  What will the dawn bring?  Success or more trouble?  Come with me to see the old west opened up with the Saga of Miles Forrest.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
       It was cold the next morning and I hated the thought of getting out from under the covers.  The fire in the little stove had gone out, I could see ice on the window and the air was frosty.  As I got out of bed I began to shiver so I hurriedly put on my clothes.  I wasn’t planning on staying so I didn’t take the time to make a fire but went on my way downstairs where I reckoned it would be warm.
       Right next to the hotel was a small cafe that also housed a saloon.  The cold took my breath away when I stepped outside so I hastened to the cafe.  This was only November but it felt like January outside.  Hawk was not going to relish riding out in this temperature.  
       Even before I sat, the waitress had coffee on the table for me.  “You want the special or the small order?” she chirped.  She was happy, and I thought that she must not have come in from the outside.  
       Placing the cup between both hands warming them, I replied, “Go ahead with the special.”
       Thirty minutes and three eggs, a dozen pieces of bacon, and a plateful of pancakes later, I was up putting my coat on to go get Hawk.  I ate plenty, so my body was fueled up, and I hope that Hawk had been fed properly.  It was a cold job waiting for us.
       Finding Hawk in good shape, I mounted, pulled down my hat, and pulled up the collar on my coat.  Since snow had fallen last night, not much – about four inches, but it was plenty to hide any tracks left by Two-Bits; I had to follow my senses.  There’s a verse that is one of my favorites, “The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord.”  That was going through my mind, for to find this crook I was going to need His guidance.
       It was cold, the temperature way below freezing and there was a goodly breeze blowing down from the north.  Hawk ducked his head, then moved out in a trot until we were out of the little community where I brought him to a walk.  There were several cabins on up the road, I had visited several in my time in Durango as a peace officer, but it seemed that there were always new ones springing up.  Collins could be in any one of them.
       Stopping at the first three, I was told that nary a soul had ventured their direction yesterday.  I was told that there was a cabin down by the river an mile or so ahead that was vacant.  I’d head there.
       We’d been out a little less than two hours, when Hawk stopped, his ears perking up and he gave a snort.  He and I had rode many trails together, and I knew to trust him, so I gave him his head to lead out.  With the wind coming from the north, he must have caught a scent of something.  He moved on towards a game trail that would lead on down to the river.  There was a one-room shack, not the one I was told about.  
       Then I saw movement, Hawk did as well and headed for it.  Behind the shack on the leeward side stood Two-Bits, still with bridle and saddle on.  The anger riled up in me to leave my good horse out like that all night, any horse for that matter.  As we grew closer I noticed there wasn’t any smoke coming from the shack, nor was there a light inside.  Hawk moved right up next to Two-Bits who did not even acknowledge him.  Dismounting, I held the Greener in my left hand, and went to check on Two-Bits.  The little mare was all right, cold for sure and I needed to get him to a stall and some food.  Hawk moved closer and she must have felt some heat coming from him and nudged in right next to him.
       I moved up to the door, there was a window, but it was too dark inside for me to see.  Breathing a deep sigh, I kicked open the door and rushed in.  On the floor lay a man, no coat, no blanket.  I nudged him with the barrel of the Greener and found no movement.  Glancing at the little fireplace I could see that a fire hadn’t been made in it for some time.  Bending over the man he looked bluish, but I couldn’t tell if he was alive or frozen to death.  
       Going quickly back to Hawk, I took off my bedroll bringing it into the shack and wrapped the man up in it.  I hated to put Two-Bits through this, but I had to throw him over the saddle and tie him down.  Twenty minutes later we were headed back to Hermosa.  I didn’t bother stopping at any of the cabins, for there wouldn’t be any room for us, nor was there any stable for Hawk and Two-Bits.
       It was a cold ride back to Hermosa and the livery…

 

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on

They had the strength to live, to endure to be. These were the people of simple tastes and simple virtues who were the backbone of the country, and not those vocal ones who were quick with words and prided themselves on their sophistication.”

                    –Louis L’Amour  (The Mountain Valley War)

       “His name shall endure forever; His name shall continue as long as the sun.  And men shall be blessed in Him; all nations shall call Him blessed.”
                    –Psalm 72:17 (NKJV)
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I sent a little message out to some friends Saturday with the following note:  “If you fell down yesterday, stand up today.”  Too often we forget, or we stay down, or we don’t complete the task.  The central theme of Psalm 106 is the acknowledgement of sin; it is pretty much a lengthy confession.

          1 — Praise the LORD!  Oh, give thanks to the LORD, for He is good!  For His mercy endures forever.
          2 — Who can utter the mighty acts of the LORD?  Who can declare all His praise?
          3 — Blessed are those who keep justice, and he who does righteousness at all times!
          4 — Remember me, O LORD, with the favor You have toward Your people.  Oh, visit me with Your salvation.
          5 — That I may see the benefit of Your chosen ones, that I may rejoice in the gladness of Your nation, that I may glory with Your inheritance.
          6 — We have sinned with our fathers, we have committed iniquity, we have done wickedly.
          7 — Our fathers in Egypt did not understand Your wonders; they did not remember the multitude of Your mercies, but rebelled by the sea–the Red Sea.
          8 — Nevertheless He saved them for His name’s sake, that He might make His mighty power known.
          9 — He rebuked the Red Sea also, and it dried up; so He led them through the depths, as through the wilderness.
        10 — He saved them from the hand of him who hated them, and redeemed them from the hand of the enemy.
        11 — The waters covered their enemies; there was not one of them left.
        12 — Then they believed His words; they sang His praise.  (NKJV)

     This is a psalm of sin, iniquity, forgetfulness, forgiveness and praise.  It is interesting that it begins with a declaration of praise.  To begin we must remember that praise is an act of the will.  We choose to praise, and perhaps, this psalm might imply that the opposite of praise is forgetfulness.  God’s love and mercy endure forever.  Then there is the question, who can proclaim His mighty acts?  Ponder that.  Who can?  Man cannot, for we cannot grasp nor adequately speak of His infinite being, but we can praise Him in our own finiteness.  He then speaks of righteousness and justice; “this inner purity brings inner joy and happiness” (Lawson).
     “Forgetfulness brings disaster” (William Petersen) and that is what the psalmist wants us to remember and understand.  When people begin to forget the acts of kindness of the Lord, they drift away from Him.  God sends revival, He works miracles, He provides–then they again and again forget Him.  That is one reason why we see the stories repeated over and over is that we forget. (Or maybe we don’t want to remember).
     Israel, God’s chosen people, had a long history of rebellion against God.   Verse 6 is translated by the NLT, “Both we and our ancestors have sinned.  We have done wrong!  We have acted wickedly!”  Repentance must come, for God cannot bless sin.  God provided so much in the way of plagues to the enemies of Israel, and did so many miracles to aid Israel, yet still–they forgot.  That is why we must remember!  Charles H. Spurgeon said, “We inherit from our fathers much sin and little wisdom.  They could only leave us what they themselves possessed.  The sin of the understanding leads on to the sin of the memory.  What is not understood will soon be forgotten.”  That is why a legacy of godliness is so important so that we can continue to tell the story of God’s love, power, and mercy.

               “I will tell the wondrous story,
               How, my lost estate to save,
               In his boundless love and mercy
               He the ransom freely gave.”
                       –Philip P. Bliss

 

Coffee Percs

by Ira Paine, Posted on

The little campfires, rapidly increasing to hundreds in number, would shoot up along the hills and plains, and as if by magic, acres of territory would be illuminous with them. Soon they would be surrounded by the soldiers, who made it an inevitable rule to cook their coffee first.”

                    –John D. Billings
 
Mornin’ to yuh, Pard.  Extry, extry, strong coffee this mornin’ in honor of those departed before us.  A solemn, yet thankful day is upon us.  So lift up yur cup, an’ here’s to the dear departed souls who served to keep this country strong and safe.
       Say, Pard, roll up yur sleeve.  Yep, I remember when yuh got that wound; it was up on the Divide not far from where ol’ Taylor had his tradin’ post.  I remember it, for I got a matchin’ one the next day.  Right here along my fifth rib.  I remember that ol’ boy, MacDonald I think was his name, who said he saw an ol’ boy with a hole right next to his navel after the Battle of Glorieta Pass.  I see yuh grinnin’ yuh do remember what he said, “If’n a person has to have an extra hole that’s as good a place as any to have one.”  From what I reckon he went through life with a bullet somewheres in his guts and a twin navel.
       How’s the coffee?  See, told yuh–strong!  Since we’re rememberizin’, do yuh recall what ol’ Bill said?  Nah, not Buffalo, but that thar English fellow, Bill Shakespeare or something like that.  Let’s see if I can remember some of it for it sure is fittin’ for us ol’ vets of the wars.  “From this day to the ending of the world, but we in it shall be remembere’d; we few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile…”  
       Pard, an’ let’s not forget that there are all kinds of wounds, not jist the physical ones.  There are those within the inner soul, those scars upon the mind.  There’ some scars where the darts of ol’ slewfoot hit us.  It reminds me kinda of you, when yuh don’t check yur cinch.  Sometimes we don’t get the shield of faith up in time an’ one of them nasty arrows from the devil hits us.  That’s when we can sure be thankful for that balm of Gilead.
       Have yurself a good weekend, an’ if’n yuh see any brothers-in-arms, give them a howdy-do.
       Vaya con Dios.

 

Echoes From the Campfire

by Ira Paine, Posted on

The willingness with which our young people are likely to serve in any war, no matter how justified, shall be directly proportional as to how they perceive the veterans of earlier wars were Treated and Appreciated by their nation.”

                    –George Washington

       “… I am like a man without strength, abandoned among the dead.  I am like the slain lying in the grave, whom You no longer remember, and who are cut off from Your care.”
                    –Psalm 88:4-5 (HCSB)
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            In Flanders Fields (John McCrae)
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
     That mark our place; and in the sky
     The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead.  Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
     Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
          In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe;
To you from failing hands we throw
     The torch; be yours to hold it high.
     If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
          In Flanders fields.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Veterans Day–the first of our holidays in which we are to be thankful.  Without these men and women who served, gave their time, their effort, and many their lives this country would have succumbed years ago.  The forces that assail our nation now are as great as they were during the highmark of fascism and communism.  New foes, but the same insidious purpose–to bring about the last bastion of freedom.  This battle is with ideas, with guns, with terror, and with blood.  Hitler, Stalin, and Mao don’t hold a candle to the evil that lurks within the menace of jihadistic Islam.  Yet, we have other foes–for the slaughter of infants is within our own country as well.  Beware–heed that last stanza.
     “Take up our quarrel with the foe…”  Don’t be naive–the enemy is real.  Don’t be lackadaisical–the enemy lurks to destroy.  Don’t be complacent and compromising–you’ll be destroyed along with your family.  The torch is yours!  Dare you hold it high?  How can we break faith, not only with those who sacrificed to keep this country great, but those stalwart men of the faith as well?  We must take up the fight, we must hold the torch high, we cannot break faith.  If we do, “A million ghosts in olive drab, in brown khaki, in blue and gray, would rise from their white crosses thundering those magic words:  Duty, Honor, Country.” (Gen. Douglas MacArthur)
     Whether it has been in the mountains of the Hindu Kush, or the sandbox of Iraq and the Middle East; whether is was upon the steamy jungles of Vietnam, or earlier in the South Pacific, or the frozen hills of Korea; whether is was in the desert of North Africa, the shores of Normandy, the skies or the blue deep–hold the torch, allow those who have gone before to sleep.
     This time we are fighting a war, not only with terrorists, and ideal mad jihadists, but with ideas that want to destroy our nation.  Destroy it from within, by doing away with the values that have made America great; those based on the holy Scriptures of God’s Word.  Destroy it by making a mockery of our founders, by bring in a culture that divides us and slanders the foundational thoughts of our nations.  Twisting, turning, misrepresenting those in the past.  Again, I say–hold the torch high, it is yours, it is mine.  Don’t break the faith.