Bull Whip Justice

 

 

It's going to be a dark and stormy night . . .

 

CRACK! . . . CRACK! . . .

 

Those were the sharp sounds he heard over the rising wind and heavy thunder.

 

From the other side of the trees, Sally kept practicing and practicing.

 

Using the eight-foot long bull whip was not easy.  Already she was marked with bruises and small cuts from the whip.  But her mastery over using the bull whip was growing more and more.

 

It had better, her life depended upon it.

 

And now after just 45 minutes of snapping the bull whip, her body was ‘glowing’ from the effort.

 

Men sweat, women glow, was the old saying.

 

Whatever you call it, she was dripping wet.

 

“Hey Mom, can you stop right now, and take a break?” Ray said as he rounded the big oak tree, and thunder shouted from the dark sky.

 

“What? What did you say?” was her response, looking at Ray and then up at the dark storm clouds rolling in from the north.

 

“I said, take a break.  This storm is coming in fast and we need to tie a few things down around the wagon before it hits.”  Then he turned and walked back around the oak tree.

 

By the time she reached the wagon, it had started to rain.

 

Ray had already tied down the big canvas cover over the wagon’s wooden loops.  Now he was covering the open ends of the covered wagon with canvas also.

 

“Mom, check on the mules and horses and make sure I tied them up securely,” he yelled over the rising wind.

 

Quickly Sally turned and ran to the mules and horses tied in the trees.

 

“My! What a great job Ray had done securing the animals.”  She thought to herself.  “Peter would have been so proud of his son to see how hard he worked.”

 

Peter, her husband, was killed by five outlaws ten days ago.

 

The bastards had ridden into their camp, tearing everything up.  Peter, Sally, Ray, and Sue, his younger sister, all reacted to the threat, and in 15 minutes the attackers were driven off.  From what they found, three attackers had died and two escaped.  The two surviving attackers rode off, and one was slumped over in his saddle, badly wounded.  The other was holding his left arm.

 

Unfortunately for Sally, Peter as well as Sue their daughter, were cut down and died.  Sally and Ray buried them both in a wooded area, piling rocks on both graves so that coyotes couldn’t dig the bodies up.

 

The outlaws were left where they fell.

 

Let the coyotes deal with them.