Speaker 1: This episode may contain content that is not suitable for
all audiences. Listener discretion is advised, especially for those under
the age of thirteen. Welcome to end too the night.
I'm Narri your guide on today's excursion down a twisted path.
Be careful not to get lost. Be it dark or light,
it's easy to lose your way. Are you ready, then
let's begin the Abandons Part three. Mister Grebby didn't lie
when he said it would be hard work. I hurt
in places I didn't even know existed before. Not a
one of us made it through the day without some bruises, cuts,
and the occasional broken bone. When the men took off
for the gold mines opened in Colorado, they left behind
a ranch filled with fearsome horses to break and rowdy
cows to wrangle. No job was considered too big or
too small for us to tackle, and there were moments
when the thought did cross our minds to quit. It's
only natural when you've had the tar kicked out of
you by a horse to give some consideration to never
doing it again. We didn't dare say it out loud,
though we knew we couldn't quit. There was no going
back to High Lake. The horrors that awaited us there
were too gruesome. We couldn't risk leaving our fate up
to whatever or whoever showed up at the orphanage to
adopt us either. As rough as the Brighton ranch was,
it was far better than the alternatives. The wrath of
the Staltsman's alone was enough to commit us to the
Brighton who knew what they'd do to us in retaliation.
The undetermined future we faced in that situation kept us
from uttering a single complaint. Worse than what could have
happened to us boys, however, was what the girls risked.
I'd have endued breaking every bone in my body if
it meant save and Rizzy.
Speaker 2: Our boss was an observant man. He didn't have to
say anything. I could tell that mister Grevey respected the
effort we made, even if we had a lot to learn.
We knew next to nothing about ranching when we arrived.
Sure I'd helped Paw tend our horses and the few
cows and chickens we had, but they were all tame
enough to be pets. I didn't know how mean a
cow or a horse could be before I set foot
on the Bridon was I scared? Damn right, I was scared.
Those wild eyed bovines with foaming slibber coming out of
their mouths would scare any sane person. I guess that's
why cowboys had such a rough reputation, because they had
to be half crazy to jump into a rild herd
of cattle. But they did that and put themselves into
a hundred other hair raising predicaments. The cows were bad,
but the horses were a whole other mess of orneriness.
It was bad enough to be bucked off one of
the critters, but the dang things found pleasure in biting, stomping,
and kickin us too. Stint lost a tooth or two,
and he was past the age when they grow back.
Warn't no baby teeth amongst us, and we took it
hard when any of us suffered a permanent mark. When
we'd worked for a month or so, Huck Pyle, the
grizzled old man of the ranch, and mister Grebby told
us they needed us to ride out to the far
edge of the ranch to search for strays. We all said, yes, sir,
but we were shaking in our boots. Not a one
of us had ever slept outside before without an adult prison.
We'd either grown up in the orphanage or we had
a home before we went there with someone to watch
over us. Knowing we'd be out on our own with
nothing but the rattlesnakes and coyotes around us, well, it
caused our hearts to drum out of cadence while still
wanting to stop beating all at the same time. Off
we went, though The first day was spent mainly just
riding to the far reaches of the Brighton. It was
a big spread and the terrain wasn't made for a
quick ride. By the time sunset loomed on the horizon,
we were far enough, we figured, dusty, hungry, and on edge.
We built a small campfire and did our best to
stick close to one another. Exhausted, I could barely keep
my eyes open, but it seemed that every strange sound
made my lids pop open. Eventually, though, I fell into
a fitful sleep and managed a few hours of rest.
The next morning we found a group of cows. A
few had calves with them, and they let us know
our presents by their young'uns wasn't appreciated. Still, we worked
as a team and kept them in a tight group
as we made our way through the hills and valleys
in search of more lost herd. Before long, we'd gathered
a good hundred or soul and were eager to return
back to the ranch house with our herd. The rocky
slopes were hard to traverse, and it was all we
could do to urge our horses down some of the ravines.
I rode on the east side of the herd when
a yell came from behind me. I looked back to
see a riderless horse staring down the rocky hillside. I
swung my horse around and headed back, and Ike came
riding up behind me. It was then we heard the
rattling and watched in horror as Lester Peak was repeatedly
struck by the biggest snake any of us had ever seen.
It hit his throat three times before we could dismount,
and even though I aimed and fired as quickly as
I could to kill the serpent for Lester, it was
too late. However, a few of us sat with him
until the end while the rest of the boys kept
watch over the herd. Leicester was one of the brothel
children who had no one to mourn him. But us.
Tom and I loaded his body on to his horse
and led it back to the bunk house in solemn silence.
Even the herd plodded sedately along, as if it even
knew tragedy had struck someone too young to deserve death.
Gratt and Grebby waited for us as we approached. At
first he figured we were tuckered out and moving slowly.
Then his keen eyes spotted the body slumped sideways over
Lester's horse, and he called out to some of the
older hands to ride out and take over the herd.
His face bore the loss as much as ours did.
He reached us and took in the ugly bite marks
across the boy. A rattler, he said no more. The
weight of his voice said all that needed to be said.
There was nothing we could deal mister Grebby. Tom offered, boys,
there's nothing anyone could do for him. You did the
right thing by bringing him home. That was the first
time the Brighton had been called home for us, and
the emotional impact of those words made it hard to
Breathe go on to the bunk house. I'll have the
men prepare him for burial. I'll make sure Reverend Hayes knows,
and he'll do the ceremony tomorrow. This boy deserves a
proper burial, and I aim to make sure he gets it.
I don't think I wanted to hug anyone so much
now since Moham Pod died as I did in that moment.
Thank you, sir, It was all I could choke out.
We boys rode toward the bunk house, wiping off faces
with our sleeves.
Speaker 1: Thank you for joining me for this episode of the
Endo the Night Anthology podcast. Written by Caroline Giamanco, narrated
by Nari, Theme music by Nico Rodriguez, all other original music,
sound design and editing by Ohmenhawk Studios. You can find
our links in the show notes. Into the Night is
on your favorite podcatcher, so make sure to like, subscribe
and leave a five star review to help other excursionists
to join us. I'll see you next time, and remember,
whether in the shadows or in the daylight, all twisted
paths lead you into the night. Into the Night Anthology
is a creative typo entertainment production