Personal Narrative: The Horse

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Now in the town of El Caballo, which means The Horse, there lived a Mexican gunfighter named Terrible Tomas. Whenever the people of El Caballo saw Tomas swagger through the streets, his hands on the oak handles of his .44s, they let him pass. His black eyes shot fire at anyone who dared to bar his way. A stocky six-footer with dark skin and black hair, Tomas was very intimidating. There rode into town one day, a stranger. He had brown hair and eyes, wore a battered brown hat and a .44 on his right hip. “Whoa Lady.” he said in a Texan drawl, “We’ve reached a hotel tonight, a good thing too. Ol’ Smilin’ Sam was getting sore ridin’ from San Antonio.” “Now listen here,” came a thick Spanish voice, “I look you over first. No one sleeps in El Caballo without me deciding if he can. Okay, let’s have that gun of yours.” “Now hold on ye Mexican! Why do you want my gun? Do you own this town? Do…” “Well, as a matter of fact I do! And you can have it if you beat me in a gunfight.” “Give me some thinking time.” “You got one hour.” Sam went and got a room at the El Caballo Hotel, sat down and thought. Two minutes later ha jumped up, shoved his gun in his holster and raced out into the street. “Tomas, where do we have our fight?” Sam called out. “This afternoon at…show more content…
Chief White Wing hopped on his fastest horse and rode with many valiant braves around him. With a Comanche cry and bent bows, the chief and the braves thundered toward Tomas. With a twang and a hiss, Chief White Wing’s arrow pierced Tomas’ back. He fell forward without a cry. Sam stood up and thanked the chief. When he returned to town later, mounted on Lady, Sam was greeted with cheers and shouts. He stood atop Lady’s saddle and cried, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I declare El Caballo free! I will become its Sheriff if you
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