The Bull of Chihuahua
by
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"Hey! Amigos!" The bandit called out. "I found whiskey. Lots of whiskey." Chicote, the latest one from the darkness, seemed to be the leader. "Give me one of those bottles!" He demanded, turning it up and drinking long and strong. Then after a few minutes, "I tell you what, Poto," He offered, talking to the big, heavy bearded one. "I will take the pretty one first, then I give her to you. How’s that?" "But Chicote!" Poto disagreed. "I found her. Me first! Then I give her to you, second." "Do not touch my little girl! Either of you! If you do you must kill me first. If you kill me, the authorities will hunt you down, put you in a cage for three days, without food or water, let the women from all around throw their garbage from their kitchens on you, and all the men folks will piss in your faces, and while you are begging for water they will take your dried up bodies from the cage, hang you up by your worthless necks and shoot you to pieces. Is that what you want?" Fernando asked. "But even that’s not the end of it. They will then let the dump ground dogs eat your rotting flesh. I ask you all, once again, is this what you want? You better think this over. You know I tell the truth" "Now, if you are through, Papa, let me tell you something." Chicote rambled, taking another long pull from the quart of rotgut. "If we worried about the authorities, we would not take the chances we take. You stop and think about that!" Poto, agreeing with his bandito friend, slapped Fernando for the third time. "Still no Johnny Andrews." Fernando thought. "I wonder if he may have done the wise thing and slipped away in the darkness because of these odds being so great." "You might as well come on in, Caprice." Chicote called out. "Their scout is long gone." "Shut up, you stupid fool!" Came still another voice from the dark. "There is someone lurking nearby us here. "Uh. Oh! Oh! Owww!" The voice from the darkness whimpered. "What’s the matter, Caprice?" Chicote called, anxiously taking a few steps towards his compadre’s voice. "What in the world?" He cried, as he caught a glimpse of the body of the one called Caprice, lying there in the grass with the firelight glowing over his stone dead corpse. His throat had been cut from ear to ear. In the seconds that followed, Johnny’s shotgun belched - BAROOM! Chicote grabbed his groin and fell to the ground. WHOOM! Another one fell, still holding Johnny’s bottle in his hand. Then from the buggy’s seat, another tried to jump out the back of the buggy to make it to his horse. WHOOM! This blast took both horse and man down. "Where are you, coward?" Poto, the heavy bearded one cried. "Why don’t you show yourself? Come out and fight like a man!" He challenged, his pistola waving wildly in the wind, shooting aimlessly into the tall grass. Show yourself!" "We were just trying to have a little fun. See, I could kill the girl and her Papa now if I wanted to. Please believe me. Poto would not tell a lie. Oh! God! Please believe me! We were just trying to have some fun. Please! Señor! Please do not shoot ol’ Poto. Poto would not harm anyone." Poto just happened into the wrong company. Poto has little babies at home." Then in a soft, low voice, the outlaw begged one more time. "I sure would like to know who takes Poto’s worthless life." WHOOM! WHOOM! The shotgun belched. "Both barrels for a man this size." Johnny thought. Poto’s chest came gaping apart. Johnny at once stepped from the brush and walked over to the huge mountain of a man. "Can you see me, Poto?" Johnny asked the bandito. "Can you see me? I am the one that takes your life." Somehow, almost as in a storybook, the huge hulk of a man opened his eyes for the last time with his pistol dangling from his finger and falling from the large mitt of a hand. He spoke his last words. "I can see you, Señor. I can see you."
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About the Book
This blazing, action filled western is loaded with adventure, love, hate, humor, war, greed, power, lust – everything to challenge your emotions as if you were living through and experiencing their exploits yourself while empathizing with hard time bare-knuckled characters. This story is told by an old trail-driving cowboy on a cold, freezing night around a campfire near the Texas border. Gunfighters, banditos, Indians, gorgeous maidens, and a chief of police who was obsessed by the beauty of another man’s wife make this cover to cover, well-written novel jump right off the pages at you. Believe me, you’ll never forget - The Bull of Chihuahua!
About the Author
Growing up in Texas, Arkansas, and Arizona, Buddy at the age of sixteen joined the 82nd Airborne Division and wound up a full-fledged paratrooper. After his discharge and being blessed with a unique singing voice, he learned to play the guitar and formed his own western band. Marrying his Texas born childhood sweetheart, Grace, he began to settle down some. Buddy began his writing career by composing his own songs and a few years later turned to writing novels. Loving the life of the cowboy and being a professional team roper himself, he spent much time listening to old time cowboys, such as Charlie Burgess and Bill Dick Browning, spin their folklore and adventure stories. Because copper mining paid more than picking at the time, Buddy moved his family to the mining town of Bagdad, Arizona, still picking and a’grinning on special occasions. Buddy attended Yavapai Junior College in Prescott, Arizona, and also served two elected terms as a lieutenant with the Yavapai County Sheriff’s Department. Other writings by Austin S. (Buddy) Dabbs are Mexican Margie, Come to Nogales, and Canyon San Raphael. You’ll search through many libraries and bookstores before you find a western story that will compare with Buddy’s latest effort - The Bull of Chihuahua.