General Fiction posted December 19, 2017


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My submission for the Urban Legends contest

Some Old Legends

by Wetbelly01


Back in my youth when school let out for summer vacation, we usually would pack up the old pick-up camper and head out for the grandparents farm in Missouri.
But it was decided we'd do something different this once,
and do it a bit closer to home.
So this time we packed up said pick-up camper, and headed out into the wilds of San Diego County!
On this trip we went traveling through the Barona Indian Reservation.
My dad was the type that liked to travel the back roads,
and that's what he did this time.

Finding an old road off the beaten path, he followed it.
Us kids loved it when he did those kind of things!
Eventually he spotted a likely spot where we stopped and proceeded to make camp.

As we were setting up the tent, making our campfire ring, gathering wood and such, this old Indian came riding up on a horse.
After talking with dad for awhile, he told us we were welcome to camp there as long as we left the place as we found it and took our trash out with us.
(I suspect dad contributed a donation to the Tribe, if you know what I mean.)
That got Old Joe (that's what he insisted we call him) the Indian an invitation to supper.

Dad usually did the cooking on these camping trips, mainly to give Mom a break from it.
I don't know why it is, but food seems to taste a lot better when it's cooked on a campfire.
And we loved dad's "Campfire Stew!"... Which consisted of the basic staples of
chopped up potatoes, carrots, onions and stew meat... But dad had a special seasoning mixture premade that to this day, none of us knew what the ingredients were.
Plus (I actually witnessed this), as he was stirring the stew to keep it from sticking
to the bottom, an occasional fly or grasshopper would end up in the pot!
"Pure protein!" Dad would call it.

It was after we had eaten and were indulging on toasted marshmallows for dessert,
that Old Joe began telling us about an event that had happened many "moons" ago.
With our complete marshmallow faced attention, he began his tale.

It seems that two boys from his tribe were sent out on their trial of manhood.
They were to spend a week's time out in the wilds living off the land,
hunting and fishing and just plain surviving with the barest of essentials.
But after the week was up, the two boys didn't return.
Sending out search parties turned up nothing.
The boys had seemed to have completely vanished,
and were never heard from again.

To this day as you're traveling through this country from sea to shining sea,
you'll see signs along the sides of roads...They're still looking for poor
Falling Rock and Running Deer!

Now I know that this story alone doesn't make the word count,
so I'm going to try and make the count by injecting a more personal family legend.

We're of Scots-Irish descent. And our Family crest consists of three wolf heads.
This is supposedly how that came to be...

Back in the old country of Scotland, we were farmers. Apparently, there was a rash of cattle and sheep killings going on for quite awhile. Some wolves were suspected.
The folk of the burg decided to organize a wolf hunt. As two of my relatives back then were
traveling to the meeting, they were met along the way by three wolves!
The battle was on, and the relatives came away with the heads of the three wolves.
When they got to the meeting place, they threw the heads in amongst the other folk at the meeting. "Thar's yur wolves!" said one of the relatives.
With that, they left and returned to their farm.
From then on, they were known as the Wolf Slayers.

Whenever the Laird of the Clan called them into battle...
Because that's what Lairds of the Clans did back then. Whenever they got insulted
or challenged by a rival Clan, they would send out the farmers and shopkeepers
and such to fight their battles for them.
When you were called out for this 'honor' you had to go, or be banished from the Clan.
It was only natural therefore, that the Wolf Slayers would be called upon.
So off the two relatives would go to do battle, their shields bearing the insignia of
three wolf heads.

The McQueen family crest bares that same insignia to this day.
It's a fine family heritage, and It's proud I am to be a part of the lineage.

Well I sure hope this story brings my word count up enough to qualify.
My fingers are getting tired!... and I wanna go to bed!....
Sure hope you all liked my stories!





































Urban Legends contest entry

Recognized


How's that for some Urban Legends?
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Artwork by iPhone7 at FanArtReview.com

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