Garret Feind fell from his horse and hit the ground. I immediately scanned the area looking for the gunman, expecting another shot to be fired. I saw nothing but flourishing hills, and a few trees. Suddenly, seven men jumped from a tree to my left, startling my dun.

            “ Well look he-ra boys. P-rett-a boy on pretty horse.” One said. They all snickered. They where all small and they where all Chinese. I knew this was a normal outcasted gang of foreigners that had no other life, yet I was worried that they where going to kill my dun. No not my dun, but the dun.

            He was not property. He was a friend. He had been with me every since I was a young kid. He was old as the dirt on the ground, but had always took care of me. I could never imagine life without the dun.

            I never cried a tear when my parents passed in front of Johnny, but I did with the dun. That dun was the most human horse I ever met. When Johnny died, the dun helped me even more. He watched my back, and mostly both of ours. I would do anything to protect him.

            But I remembered that one time in the midst of it all, when ever the dun almost died. He was just unsaddled and felt like running. I never tied him, so he could come and go as he pleased, even if he left and never came back. He was running back when a herd of bison took off over a ravine. He let his guard down for just a moment and then he fell.

            I ran as hard as I could to the dun horse. He tried to get up but I made him stay down. I didn’t know if he was hurt or not, but I wasn’t taking chances. He looked at me in the eye and showed he was appreciative of me. I loved him so much and I would rather be killed, scalped, and burned before let those Chinese hurt him.

            One Chinese pulled a pocket knife out and got near the dun. “ You touch him with that and I’ll plug a hole in you quicker than a rattlesnake biting a intruder.” I said. The Chinese man backed away, for he saw my shiny colt sticking up at him. “ If you would please excuse me, I must go.”

            One taller man said, “ What about your friend.”

            I smiled at him, “ He is no friend of mind. Have at him.”

            I kicked the dun up and cheerfully neighed and began a full sprint. We rode up and down the beautiful hills, and just enjoyed the ride. I saw a baby buffalo takes it’s first steps, and I also saw 3 baby mustangs play by a watering hole. There was a coyote chasing a roadrunner, and my favorite seen of the day, a mother mustang biting at it’s colt, discipline it for trying to steal the stallions apple.

            I got over to a big overlook and pulled the dun up. I had aimed to look at the terrain, but I saw a group of Indian warriors, less than 75 yards off. The all immediately shot at me, and the dun ran into a small thicket about a mile away. He was fine but I was filled with four bullet holes. Soon the dun lead us out of the woods and stopped by a spring. I drank from it, as did he.

            I got back on the dun and felt myself passing out, hoping he could take care of it.

Keyword: Chancellor Riggin #4- The Strength of A Dun

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Posted by cookingWine 2008-03-09 10:39:47 .... I didn't enjoy it. It's too over-the-top cliche western. It was a solid attempt at telling the relationship with the horse, but honestly, you could have edited out almost that entire "chapter" for just the line where he said he'd shoot the guy who wanted to stab his horse, because that shows more than what you told me. + Report this comment

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