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11 years 11 months ago #13468 by zfk55
The Lost Prairie Chronicles #10
The time isn't too hard to pin down. Lyn remembers the wildflowers were in the fields and she could still see the snow on Meadow Peak, so it must have been near the end of April.

There was new life in Lost Prairie with calves, colts, chicks who were running around in the barnyard. The Barnswallows were in the valley but it was too early for them to begin building their odd, mud nests tucked up under the eaves of the barn. Everything was green and Rosemary was usually outside into everything, everywhere and all at once. At age three, closing on four she was already sitting on her first pony and fearless enough to put her Mother's heart in her throat.

Our stud at that time was a typical stud horse. He tolerated nothing from the geldings and raised a ruckus whenever they got too close to his corral. He had the entire barn and a large corral during the daytime and, after the herd was closed in the barnyard at dusk, he was let out into the pasture through a gate from his corral. He spent his summer nights grazing the green timothy and had access to the barn through his corral should it rain.

I don't really remember any of our horses wanting to use the barn for anything other than morning graining. Inclement weather would find them in the jackpines rather than the barn, but then they were Montana horses, not blanket-covered barn-kept horses.

Most stud horses lead a solitary life and he was no exception, but............ he did have a friend, and an odd pair they were. In the barn and in the pasture at night you would see them together. Him pacing or walking, she waddling or running to keep up. She was a two year old goose!.... and they were virtually inseperable. But this one isn't about him or her. Its about Rosemary, Shonkin and the oddest, most heart-stopping incident in our lives.

That morning Rosemary had wolfed down her breakfast and headed for the barnyard. The studhorse had been put in his corral, the horses had been grained and the barnyard gate flung open with the whole herd thundering out into the pasture for a morning run. It was a brisk morning with clear skies over Lost Prairie, and Rosemary was headed for the stocktank to play with her dolls and toy horses. I sort of remember them being called "My Little Pony" or something near that. Odd how little girls in particular are absolutely enchanted with horses, and Rosemary was among the most enchanted of them all.

It was a Saturday morning so I didn't have to go to town. I had done most all of the chores that Lyn would typically do during the week, grain the horses, pitch fresh hay in the barn stalls, gather eggs and fill the stock tank. It was warming up and I went into the house to take a break. I looked out the kitchen window into the barnyard and noticed Shonkin had come back in and was laying on his side in the sun. For those of you who keep horses you know this is a common thing. The rest of the herd was in the pasture somewhere out of sight. I sat in the kitchen with Lyn pouring her tea as I sipped a cup of coffee. As fate would have it I felt the urge and rose to go to the restroom and............ thus began a short series of events neither Lyn nor I will ever forget.

The downstairs bathroom window also looked out into the barnyard and standing there I gazed to my left and there was Shonkin, still laying on his side with Rosemary laying face down on top of his ribcage, spread eagled and hugging him! I was very fortunate not causing some damage considering the speed with which I zipped up! I gave a fast explanation to Lyn as I ran through the kitchen and out the back door.

I slowed at the fence and spoke quietly to Rosemary. "Punkin....... don't move. Stay still till Daddy gets to you." Her head came up, looking at me not understanding what was wrong. "No, punkin! (whispered) Don't move."

With my hand on the gate I heard a sound I had never dreaded before that moment. The herd! The herd was on the high run from the pasture! Have you ever thought you felt the ground shake? It probably wasn't, but at that moment it felt like the whole earth was moving... and.... I wasn't going to be in time. They were already at that 18 foot wide barnyard gate! I remember hearing Lyn scream somewhere behind me.

The barnyard was already dried out from days of the early spring sun and the dust was thick as the herd of 26 thundered around and past Shonkin and Rosemary. I ran through the dust to where I knew she had been and was greeted by a "thank God" sight I'll never forget. Shonk was still laying there, quivering, flicking his ears. raising his head without shifting his body until I snatched Rosemary from her perch atop him! He immediately bolted upright and shook the dust from himself like a giant dog.

Shonkin won a special, permanent place in our hearts that morning. From that day on his morning grain was doubled, and he was the one full sized horse that Rosemary rode besides her ponies. Yep...... Rosemary has never changed. She's as fearless a spitfire today as she was back then. Such were many of her parental heart-stopping early days in Lost Prairie.

My Sister Rosemary and Shonkin.

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11 years 11 months ago #13491 by 13fcolt
Oh Wow...
i want to go live where you live, latigo.

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11 years 11 months ago #13497 by Sharkey

13fcolt wrote: Oh Wow...
i want to go live where you live, latigo.


If I could stand being more than a few minutes away from the ocean, I'd already have the family packed and be askin directions... :)

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11 years 11 months ago - 11 years 11 months ago #13531 by zfk55
I can't imagine living anywhere else but Montana, and having been born and raised in Lost Prairie, its not likely I'll ever leave.
A couple more of Dad's chronicles. These two hit close to home for me.
..............................................................................

The Lost Prairie Chronicles #1

I remember how Rosemary and Latigo would wolf down their breakfasts, wipe mouths with the backs of their hands and run out the back door in their self-dressed, mismatched clothes....... heading for the back of the place.

Thats where the spring was, near the huge Blue Spruce, out of sight just over the rise near the pasture. Watching them walk home at the end of the day I could only imagine what they had been playing at back there, clothes wet and dirty but with glowing faces I could only envy. How many summers did they do that before the old Blue Spruce and the spring waited in vain for their return.

Now the tall grass returns each year around the spring. Rosemary and Latigo aren't there to keep it trampled down with whatever games they played on the banks during all those long ago childhood summers.

There are several small Blue Spruce trees growning on the sun side of the old tree now. They're covered with snow this morning, branches sagging with the weight. Winter has returned to Lost Prairie.

I mentioned the spring and the old tree to Lat this morning, and he feigned not remembering those days with Pooh at the spring, but his eyes stayed on mine just a bit too long, and I knew he did remember. He virtually runs the studio now, but its not hard for me to look at him and still see Pooh and him running out the back door, headed for a serious day at the spring at the back end of the place.

Rosemary looks better these days. She's been removed from being classified as anorexic again. God, how I miss those days when they had nothing more important in their lives than getting up and heading for the spring.

Keep your children close. They're only children for such a short time.

................................................................................

The Lost Prairie Chronicles #8
During the week I typically rise at 3am to head for town. I get to the studio at 4am to begin working on the artwork and layouts for the day and, during the winter, I load the old firebox before I leave Lost Prairie.
I wake up around the same time on weekends but ususally go back to bed after stoking the firebox. The firebox? well............ for those who don't know, a firebox is the actual working version of a fireplace. Fireplaces are inefficient due to heat loss, but an enclosed steel, freestanding firbox will heat a large home. The point of all this? Well........ there's a story, isn't there.

This old Enan Firebox has seen some 36 winters, and it will take a number of full 2 foot logs inside. It stands in the living room of this 4,400 square foot, 2 level log home. With small transfer fans in the walls and ceiling vents it does heat the entire house during the coldest of winters.

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It's glowing warmth has seen a few beloved family puppys learn how to tell us they need to go outside, seen them play with the kids, grow old and pass away. It's constant companions have been Great Danes who, one at a time, stood and slept by it's heat before passing on.

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It silently watched the kids grow, watched them play on the big living room floor before it, open Christmas presents, look for their hidden Easter Baskets, celebrate birthdays, shed tears of happiness or sorrow from the occasional sore hind end of disobedience, listened to their excitement about new toys, new relationships, troubles and triumphs in school.

It stood alone, forgotten during the warm weather when the kids played outside but usually had the nightime companionship of the ever-present Great Danes that slept beside it and came and went with age.

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Now there's a little Pug snuffling and snorting around it's base, sleeping on the large dog bed next to it sharing the same warmth as the Great Danes before her.
Its still here, crackling and warming the house again this morning with the onset of winter in Lost Prairie. It is, and will remain the Heart of the House.

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Last edit: 11 years 11 months ago by zfk55.

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11 years 11 months ago #13542 by Siscowet
Keep those Lost Prarie stories coming! I spent a fair amount of time in Montana in the 70's and 80's. And that last story about the firebox rings true for where I live, as I have a log home I heat with wood. Good writing.

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11 years 11 months ago #13576 by zfk55
The Lost Prairie Chronicles #3
"Spar Beacon" was a Morgan stud horse. Better yet, he was our Morgan stud horse. Gorgeous and exciting under saddle, a deep chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail, it took a rider to handle Spar Beacon, but there was a drawback. He came from the Loney Ranch and Lyn had Mischief, one of his daughters. Mischief was a natural pacer and a singlefooter.... A rare combination and we loved riding her.

When I was negotiating the price on Spar Beacon Laurie Loney told me about something I had to do if we were going to keep him. Whoever owned Spar Beacon had to employ a buggywhip to his hindquarters on, or about the first of every month. I stared at Laurie and told him he had to be joking. "Nope. You're going to have to make up your mind to do it if you want to keep him." (I made a mental note to never lay a whip to that stud horse.)

We loaded the Beacon into the trailer and headed home in great spirits. This was a gorgeous animal. Leading him to the barn he danced and came off the ground a few times but that only made him all the more appealing. It was the 25th of April.

The Beacon was given a 1 gallon bucket of molasses oats every morning and then 1/3rd of a bale of Timothy hay. He was in great shape and I couldn't wait to get a saddle on him. I led him out of the barn and tied him off to one of the big "U" rings on the end of a 1,000 gallon propane tank. I tied him there out of pure laziness, not wanting to walk from the barn to the tack room and back again.

At that moment my own saddle horse, Shonkin, walked by in the barnyard. I heard Lyn shout and I spun around to see that the Beacon was upset about Shonk being nearby, but that's not what Lyn was hollering about. Upon a closer look I could see that Beacon had reared up and actually lifted that 1,000 gallon propane tank right off the concrete piers!! The tag lines we used on horses were 1" diameter nylon rope with a heavy steel hasp. Anything lighter would have broken, but I was astounded at the strength of that stud horse. Absolutely amazing.

I did get him saddled and I remembered something else Laurie had told me. The Beacon was a head tosser. Enough so that he had bloodied Laurie's nose more than once until he was rigged with a tie-down.

Stepping on the Beacon was an experience. I tried to get him to line out but he was a natural side stepper. That means he did track a straight line, but at an angle, all the while bowing his neck, snorting, lifting his hooves high and tossing his head against that (damned glad I used it) tie-down. Yep. The Beacon was an exciting ride. Time to unsaddle him and give him a hot rub-down, so I unsaddled him, slipped his bridle (leaving the headstall) and went to the tack room to put up the saddle.
I heard two screams. One was Shonkin and the other was Lyn.

Shonk had walked back into the barnyard and got too close to that stud. Beacon had jerked sideways, snapped that steel snap, grabbed Shonkin by the neck behind the poll and slammed him right to the ground!
Shonkin was 17 hands tall! The Beacon was an average Morgan 15 hands! Incredible!

It took me half an hour to get a rope on the Beacon once I got a very shaken Shonkin out of the barnyard gate. What a day............

Its the morning of the first of May and all of the horses had been given their oats and turned out into the pasture. Time to grain the Beacon. I walked into the barn and toward his stall with the oat bucket, and as I passed behind him he lashed out with the off-side rear hoof! I went to his head and steadied him, stroked him and put his oats in the trough. As I got near his hindquarters he lashed out again! I tested him 3 more times with the same results before I went into the house to call Laurie Loney.
"Didn't pay attention, did ya." he said. You were SERIOUS??? "Dead serious. If you want to keep that horse you're going to have to use that buggy whip on his hindquarters until he stands still and trembles".
I thought *the hell I will*

Three days later and 6 more episodes with the kicking he nearly got me. It was close and as high as my hip. I got the buggywhip. It took some 15 smacks before he did exactly what Loney said he'd do. He stood and trembled. He behaved until the following first of the month when he did the same thing and I couldn't bring myself to whip that horse again, so I sold him back to Loney at a loss.
Lousy start to a spring in Lost Prairie that year, but things were going to get better. Much better.
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11 years 11 months ago #13872 by zfk55
This one is mildly embarrassing, but......................

The Lost Prairie Chronicles #9
Latigo LaGeose St.Marie. My son, my pride. The straightest arrow I've ever known, and he's right here in my own family.

Lyn was pregnant. Pregnant and on the verge of giving birth. Her active labour went on for an ending total of 12 days. At first everyone was convinced that "today is the day"... but it wasn't. After the 5th trip to town I made an arrangement with a very old friend and his wife to put Lyn up at their home in town not far from the hospital. With a herd of horses, milk cows and chickens needing tending to on a daily basis I couldn't stay in town with her, so she stayed with the LaGeose's.

Antoine LaGeose... silversmith, engraver, black powder rifleman and buckskinner. Now deceased from a cranial embolism, he and his wife took good care of Lyn and called whenever she was taken back to the birthing center.... that procedure typically being another false alarm. Lyn had a bed in their home comprised of a down-filled mattress and a full blown, cured buffalo hide, much softer than you'd imagine, to cover her.

On "that" day, I had just arrived in town and upon visiting the LaGeose's was told that she had once again been taken to the birthing center. Having become used to the false alarm scenario I drove up to the hospital and went right to the birthing center. Lyn was there in another apparent bout with contractions and I told her I was going down the hall to look at the babies behind the glass in the nursery.
His name was to have been "Justin". Looking at the assorted little critters in the bassinettes I noticed one named "Justin".... then another... and another!! Of all the babies in that nursery there were no less than 5 Justins!!

I went back to the labour room and told her "We can't name him Justin! There are 5 of them down in the nursery!" I told her I was going down to the tack shop to buy a new latigo for one of the saddles and would be back soon.
By the time I returned, he was born and she had named him Latigo! Latigo LaGeose St.Marie. His middle name must be obvious by this time and Antoine was indeed honoured.

A "latigo" is the offside billet on a saddle. Its also a type of leather, and his name suits him right down to the ground. I can't imagine him with any other name.
A year after his birth I ran into a guy at the feed store who asked me why we had named him after a comic character. Huh?? What character. "Why, Latigo.......... from the Stan Lynde newspaper strip." We don't get the paper, sez I. Who is he? "He's a nationally syndicated comic columnist with a sunday comic strip. Latigo, Hipshot and Rick O'Shay are his characters and he lives right here in the Flathead!"

Sure enough......... Stan Lynde lived right here in Polson, just south of us by 45 miles. Lyn and I drove down there one sunday, and there right on highway 93 was a large white structure with signs all over the place, naming the characters in his comic strip. He wasn't there, but we were astounded about the names.
Now Latigo has his own son........... Julian Ricochet St.Marie. He changed the spelling so it wouldn't sound too Irish. He's told us that if he has another son the middle name will be Hipshot........ and that will complete the circle.

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