“Huh. Wake up? But I just went to sleep!” Bertie stayed in the bed and pulled the covers over his head. He did not move.

“Get your shoes on. We have to go,” said a tall, dust covered man in the room. He smelled of tobacco and had a big black hat.

Bertie got up. The morning sun shone brightly on Bertie’s face. He could hear birds chirping through the window. It was much warmer than what Bertie was expecting for a spring day. He started to bend over to put his shoes on…

The person shoved Bertie aside, “Hey! Watch where you put your hands!”

“What?”

The person took a stick, and swiped some large, black insect from under the bed. Then he killed it with a boot and a loud crunch.

“Yikes! That is the biggest spider that I have ever seen!”

“That is no spider. That is a scorpion and you should have known not to just grab your shoes like that. Shake your shoes first to make sure that there are no scorpions in your shoes.

“Since when do they have scorpions in Pennsylvania?” Bertie quickly shook his shoes and put them on his feet.

“We have them here in Texas.” The man looked askance at Bertie. “Now we go!”

“Go? Where do we have to go? What about getting some breakfast before we get on the road.” Bernie was still a little groggy from waking up and he was hungry. “What is the hurry?”

“We have to leave now! Do you want the mob to catch up to you? If we do not leave immediately, that could happen. Then you will learn what a mob can really do.”

“The mob? What mob?”

“You ask too many questions.” He grabbed Bertie’s shoulder and dragged him outside. It was much hotter than he was than even inside the house. The morning sun was bright, red, and just over the horizon. Bertie looked out over the farm and could see a large herd of cattle.

“Look at the horns on those cattle. They are huge,” said Bertie.

“What do you expect from Longhorn cattle, short, stubby little horns? Get on your horse.”

Bertie got on his horse and they headed northwest. They started at a full gallup. But soon, they slowed to just a walk.

“Why are we slowing down? I thought we had to get somewhere and fast,” said Bertie.

“We do have to get somewhere fast, but you cannot expect the horses to run that fast all day long. We will pick it up after the horses have rested a little bit then we will keep up a ground eating trot for the rest of the day.”

Now that they were going slower, Bertie had a chance to look around. They were finally passing by the end of the Longhorn cattle herd. He could see that the land had low, undulating hills. Occasionally they passed by copses of trees, but mostly the ground was covered with low vegetation. Some places had carpets of blue flowers. Bertie liked the small flowers so much he stopped his horse to grab a bunch.

“Why are you stopping your horse?”

“I just wanted to grab a bunch of flowers so that I could sniff them,” said Bertie.

“We are not stopping to sniff the bluebonnets. I do not want the mob to catch up with us. Do you?”

“No, I guess not. When will we be stopping to take a break?”

“Not for miles to come. We want to put a lot of distance between us and the bad guys. That will take a long time.

Bertie sighed. He was hungry and was looking forward to having some more scrapple. He guessed that the long, tall texan did not pack such a tasty delicacy; just lots of coffee and beans. Not much to look forward to. But it would be better to go a little hungry than wait to see what the mob would do. Still, there might be something tasty at the end of the ride.

“Will they have tasty food at the end of the ride? Maybe some scrapple,” Bertie paused. “And just where are we going?”

“I do not know about, scrapple, or any other food. We are going to a small town that was once known as Catclaw.”

“I have never heard of that town.”

“That is not surprising. Catclaw is a small village just outside of Baird. We should get there sometime this afternoon.”

Bertie looked northwest. Bertie saw more hills. There were birds and small animals. Occasionally they would go past a herd of Longhorn cattle, but they never saw any people. They would go up one small hill, then down the other side of the hill. This pattern repeated itself over and over. Bertie was getting tired from the sheer repetition and monotony of the ride.

“Hey! Wake up! You have to stay alert and pay attention to your ride. We do not want to run into a hunting or war party of Comanche.”

“Comanche?”.

“The nastiest Injuns that you never want to have a chance of meeting.”

“There are Indians out here?”

“Well, of course there are Injuns out here. You are not out east anymore where they killed them all off. Too bad that they cannot do that here.” The man spit on the trail.

Bertie was a little shocked that the man wanted all of the Comanche dead. Bertie wanted to have a chance to meet the Indians of the west. He knew that they were not all dead out east. They had just been relocated. Plus, he knew that they were not all bad. Just a few…

The man stopped.

“Why are we stopping?”

The man pointed to the top of the next hill. There was some smoke. And the smell of bacon.

……

“Wake up! We have to get downstairs before everyone else!”