A Different Kind Of Western
A DIFFERENT KIND OF WESTERN
The lightly falling rain filled the brim of his hat, as he took his last swig of now warm coffee from a tin cup. Nodding his head forward the raindrops that had collected in the brim of his cowboy hat, crested over the lowest dip in the mold of the brim and spattered into the bottom of the tin cup. He swirled the freshly fallen rain around the sides of the cup, until it was rinsed clean. Then he tossed it out, and laid the cup upon a flat rock to his side.
Glancing back up at the rain clouds, the sun began to peek back out, and cast a rainbow across the wet skies. It had been a long time since he felt rain dancing upon his skin, even longer since he had enjoyed such a palate of color stretching far off into the horizon.
Removing his canteen lid, he propped it up against a boulder to catch the rain as it fell. He did the same with the coffee pot. Double handing his now filled tin, drinking cup, he raised it to his lips and emptied it in one large gulp. Grabbing the coffee pot by its handle, he rose to his feet and carried it over to where his horse stood, laying the pot on the ground. Bullet began to drink the freshly fallen rain from the coffee pot, sounding off his approval, as his tongue drew the water in.
Tripper had nestled into a dry crevice to sit the rain out, while the pack mule still slept soundly, probably due to the burden of all she had carried during the long distance they had traveled yesterday before pitching camp. It was time for all to be fed, so they could break camp and get back on the trail. Rain or no rain, they had to keep moving. They already had a late start. The Sun was well up into the morning sky by the time the rain came, and only the young cowboy had finished eating his breakfast.
Taking a handful of unearthed stubby carrots from a saddlebag, he strolled over to where his mule lay, still sleeping. The sweet fragrance from the carrots aroused the mule from its sleep, as the carrots were dangled near her nose. Shaking her head, beads of water spewed off in all directions, as she gently took a carrot from his hand. He laid a couple more beside her, and took the rest over to his horse. Bullet quickly accepted the carrots from his hand, and placed them on the ground. Slowly, one by one, Bullet ate each carrot, taking considerable time as if he was enjoying the aroma and taste of each individual morsel for as long as possible. Meanwhile, the young cowboy readied to break camp.
The rain had stopped, so Tripper decided to make an appearance, and sat watching the young cowboy go about the business of readying the pack mule, and saddling up the horse. When he was finished, the young cowboy unwrapped a piece of pork and offered it to Tripper. The cat eagerly took the piece of meat into his mouth, making short work of his breakfast. Now that all had something in their stomachs, it was time to get moving.
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