Transcription
And now for a read aloud of Pecos Bill. The greatest cowboy that ever lived was the one they called Pecos Bill.
Bill was born in East Texas and might have lived there forever, but one day his Pa came running out of the house shouting to his Ma, “Pack up everything we got, Ma! There’s neighbors moved in near about fifty miles away, and it’s gettin’ too crowded around here.” So Bill’s folks loaded a covered wagon with everything they owned and headed west.
It was a long, hard journey. The children were packed in the back of the wagon, all eighteen of them. They fussed and hollered and fought as the wagon bounced along. The children were so loud that Bill’s ma said you couldn’t hear the thunder over the noise. One day the wagon hit a rock and little Bill fell right out. With all the fussing and fighting, nobody noticed. The wagon just kept on going. So Little Bill found himself sitting in the dirt along the banks of the Pecos River, and that’s how he came to be named Pecos Bill. But that was later.
Little Bill was not your average baby. He didn’t cry. He just crawled along on the dusty plain, keeping his eyes peeled for whatever came along. And the first thing to come along was a coyote. When the coyote saw this dirty, naked little creature crawling around on all fours, she thought he was a cute little animal, even if his ears were mighty small. Little Bill reached up and patted the coyote’s head and said, “Nice doggie!” The doggie—I mean coyote—liked Little Bill. She took him home and raised him with her pups.
The coyotes taught Bill to roam the prairies and howl at the moon. They taught him the secrets of hunting, how to leap like an antelope, and to run like the wind. They taught him how to chase lizards and lie so still that he was almost invisible. The years went by—eighteen of them to be exact—and Bill grew up strong and healthy.
One day he was out hunting along the Pecos River when he saw a most unusual sight. It seemed to be a big animal with four legs. Or was it six legs? And why did it have one head in front and another on top? Well, it turned out to be a horse with a man riding it, something Bill had never seen before. Bill scurried around the horse a few times. Then he slowly crept forward and took a sniff of the man’s boot.
“Boy,” said the man, “what are you doin’ scampering around down there in your birthday suit?”
“Sniffin’,” said Bill. “I’m a coyote!”
“No, you ain’t,” said the man. “You’re a man, like me.”
“Nooo!” howled Bill. “Coyoteeee!”
“What makes you think you are a coyote?” said the man.
“I have fleas!” said Bill.
“So what?” said the man. “Lots of men here in Texas have fleas.”
But Bill was not persuaded. He was sure he was a coyote. “Here’s the thing,” said the man. “Coyotes have pointy ears and big bushy tails. And you don’t.”
“Yes, I do!” cried Bill. He felt sure he had a tail, just like all the other coyotes. He looked over his shoulder but couldn’t see one. He reached back to grab his tail but he could not feel one. He backed up to the river and looked for his tail in the reflection, but it was not there. Bill was surprised. He thought for a moment. Then he decided the man must be right. If he didn’t have a tail, he couldn’t be a coyote. If he wasn’t a coyote, he must be a man. Bill decided he’d have to say farewell to his four-legged friends and try living as a man.
He went to stay with the man, who just so happened to be a cowboy. The man gave Bill some clothes to wear and a horse to ride. He also gave him a nickname: Pecos Bill. At first Bill had trouble living like a man. He couldn’t stand the way his clothes scratched and pulled at his skin, or the way his boots came between his bare feet and the good old dirt. And he couldn’t see the need for a knife or fork when it was just as easy to use your fingers to pick up your meat and tear it with your teeth. Bill learned to act like a man, but he still had a spark of wildness in him, and it would flash out from time to time.
One day he was out riding on his horse when he was surprised by a mountain lion. The mountain lion scared Bill’s horse away and charged right at Bill. But Pecos Bill was too quick for that mountain lion. He dodged the big cat, then hopped right onto his back. The mountain lion was not happy, no sir. He bucked. He snarled. He tried to twist around and bite Bill. Bill held on to the lion’s neck with one hand. With his other hand, he waved his cowboy hat in the air and shouted “Yahoo!” The mountain lion did everything he could to shake Bill off, but it was no use. Finally, he gave in and let Bill ride him. Then, Bill put a saddle on the lion and rode him like a horse. Bill had tamed the mountain lion.
Another day, Pecos Bill was attacked by a giant rattlesnake. This particular rattlesnake was a mean old fellow who thought he was the king of the whole desert. He struck at Bill’s heel, but Pecos Bill was too quick for that rattlesnake. Pecos Bill grabbed the rattler by the neck and squeezed him hard. The snake wriggled and writhed in Bill’s grip. “Say ‘uncle’ if you’ve had enough!” said Bill. “G-g-g-uncle!” said the snake, gurgling out the sounds as best as he could. Bill relaxed his grip a bit and asked the rattler, “Who’s the boss around here?” “I was . . .” said the snake. “But now you are.”
“Well then,” said Pecos Bill, “How’d you like to work for me?”
“Sure thing!” said the rattler. The rattler just looked at Pecos Bill with admiration and purred like a kitten. Pecos Bill had squeezed all the meanness right out of that snake!
Next, Pecos Bill rolled the rattler up into a coil and rode away on his mountain lion. On the way back to camp, he spotted a runaway cow. He grabbed the rattler and tied a loop at one end of him to make a lasso. Then he rode after the cow, swinging his lasso above his head. When he was close enough, he tossed the looped end of the snake over the cow. Pecos Bill jumped off the mountain lion and pulled the lasso tight, stopping the runaway cow right in his tracks. Pecos Bill brought the cow back to his friend, the cowboy.
After that he taught all the cowboys at the ranch how to use a lasso to catch a runaway cow. He taught them other things, too. He taught them how to tame wild horses by riding them, just as he had done with the mountain lion. He even taught them how to sing cowboy songs around the campfire at night, in a voice that sounded a lot like a lonesome coyote howling at the moon.
Pecos Bill was famous for his riding skills. He once rode a wild mustang called the Backbreaker that no one else could ride. But that story pales in comparison to the time he rode something that no other man had before, and I reckon no man ever will again—a cyclone! That’s right. Pecos Bill lassoed a cyclone with his rattlesnake lasso and jumped on its rip-roaring back. The cyclone spun furiously, trying to throw Bill off. It went spinning this way and that way across the deserts of Arizona, trying to knock Bill off by rising up into the air and digging down into the ground. Pecos Bill didn’t let go until the cyclone spun itself out of energy, and by that time the two of them had carved out a deep canyon. If you ever go to Arizona, you can still see that canyon today. It’s called the Grand Canyon.