A Bend In The River

 

These days, Kimball Bend is an Army Corps. of Engineers park along Highway 174 in Bosque County, Texas, close to the Brazos River bridge. However, in cattle drive days it’s where drovers herded their longhorn charges across the Brazos on their way up the Chisholm Trail. In the late 1860s there was also a ferry at this location.

Kimball Bend seen from Bridge across the Brazos

When researching for Dashing Irish a few years ago, I learned that Red River Station, the place where cattle drives crossed the Red River on their way north, ca. 1874, was also at a bend in the river. Preston Bend was yet another famous cattle crossing on the earlier Shawnee Cattle Trail, located farther east on the Red.

Were all these crossings at river bends mere coincidence? Of course not. Trail drivers chose such crossing points because the river current helped them shepherd their cattle toward the opposite bank as it rounded the bend.

At the crossing of Big Elk Creek in Oklahoma, there’s a horseshoe bend in the creek where drovers led their steers into the water. The bend acted almost like a corral or cattle chute and helped to keep the herd moving smoothly. Those cowboys were no fools!

Dashing Irish just received a 4 1/2 star review from InD’Tale Magazine. I’m thrilled!  http://www.indtale.com/magazine/2013/september/#?page=80

Now here’s an excerpt illustrating how rough a river crossing could be.

At least half the herd was across now, and most of the men were in the water, Tye included. Minutes ago, Lil had seen him driving cattle into the river. He was supposed to bring up the rear with Kirby, but he must have traded places with Dewey, because the black cowboy wasn’t in sight. She knew why Tye had done it; he wanted to keep an eye on her. She was certain of it because she’d caught him watching her with a worried look on his face.

He was as bad as her father. She wanted to shake him. All cut up like he was, he was the one who had no business in a raging river, not her.

She spotted him near the south bank. From the way he moved as he swatted a wayward longhorn into line, you’d think there wasn’t a thing wrong with him. The dumb galoot! Chic would likely have to stitch him up all over again. She shook her head in exasperation and turned her attention to the cattle. A moment later, she was nudging a steer back in the right direction when all hell broke loose.

“Lil, look out! Tree comin’!” Tye shouted.

Jerking her head around, Lil saw an uprooted stump headed straight for her. She gasped and kicked Major hard. He plunged forward just in time to avoid being rammed by the snag.

Several longhorns weren’t so lucky. The tree stump barreled into them with a sickening crunch of horn and bone. A few sank and were carried away along with the stump; others bawled in terror as they collided with their neighbors. Panicked animals milled in all directions. More went under, and some didn’t resurface.

It was move fast or lose dozens of cattle. Unmindful of danger, Lil headed Major into the tangle of bovine bodies. Neil, Jack, and the others did likewise, yelling and lashing out with their ropes as they fought to stop the mêlée. Luckily, they were over the sandbar; that made things a little easier. After several moments, all the steers were finally headed north again.

Lil glanced around for Tye. He’d swum the big roan he rode out to help. Bobbing in the water about twenty yards away, he met her gaze, and a relieved look spread across his face. She was just as relieved to see him safe. He smiled and waved, and she returned the gesture. Then she noticed how sluggishly Major was moving.

“Sorry, boy, I should’ve cut you loose to rest,” she said, patting his neck. “Let’s head for shore.”

They’d just left the sandbar behind when a wild-eyed sabina steer swerved out of line toward them. Lil tried to guide Major out of the way again, but he couldn’t react fast enough. The longhorn hooked him in the shoulder with a sharp horn. Screaming in pain, the chestnut pitched over sideways.

Lil cried out and heard Tye shout her name; then her head went under. Water filled her nose and throat. She kicked frantically, managing to break free of the thrashing horse and propel herself upward. She broke the surface coughing, fighting for air.

Major managed to right himself, and Lil grabbed for him. She missed as the tricky current carried him away. He kicked feebly; she was terrified neither of them would make it.

“Lil, I’m coming!” Tye cried, her terror slamming into him, doubling his fear for her as he forced his horse between two thrashing steers that blocked his way.

Lil twisted in the water to look at him. Then a wave slapped her in the face, dragging her under again. Tye held his breath the instant she did, experiencing her fear and desperate will to live as she fought her way upward amid the thrashing longhorns. She surfaced and he gulped air along with her, then silently cheered when she grabbed onto the horn of a passing steer. Its owner bellowed and tried to shake her off, but she clamped an arm around his thick neck and clung to him.

“Hang on, Lily!” Tye shouted, heart beating like a drum.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0069HLDJU (Kindle)

http://www.amazon.com/dp/1470004003 (paperback)

http://tinyurl.com/lk8w55d (Nook)

Flu Season . . . Of A Different Kind

By: Peggy L Henderson

Fall is quickly approaching, the kids have gone back to school, and we all know what that means – flu season. But people aren’t the only ones who suffer from influenza. Our dogs, cats, and horses can get the flu, as well.

Equine Influenza outbreaks these days can have economic impacts on the racing and showing industry. But what about in the nineteenth century? Everything was dependent on horse power back then, just as we depend on gasoline today. An outbreak could have devastating consequences. 

treating flu stricken horses 

In 1872, an outbreak of equine influenza crippled the US economy.  It came to be known as the Great Epizootic of 1872. The Long Riders’ Guild Academy, the historical organization that researched the outbreak, has said that "The Great Epizootic was the worst equestrian catastrophe in the history of the United States - and perhaps the world."

When horses became unable to perform their duties in the eastern cities, the economy came to a grinding halt. In fact, the influenza outbreak that year is said to have been a major contributor to the economic crash in 1873.

workers pulling their own wagons

The first cases of the disease were reported in Toronto Canada, and within three days spread to New York. It took less than three days for the street car horses to become infected and unable to perform their jobs. Three weeks later, the New York Times reported that all of the cities public stables had been infected, and more than 95% of the horse population had been rendered useless by its owners. "It is not uncommon along the streets of the city to see horses dragging along with drooping heads and at intervals coughing violently."

 On October 30, 1872, a complete suspension of travel had been noted in New York. Massive backups at ports and with freighting companies occurred, because horses could no longer pull the loads from the docks. They couldn’t pull the coal cars that supplied fuel to the railroads.

Men were forced to pull wagons by hand. Trains and ships full of cargo stood unloaded. Perishable food spoiled.

"Coal cannot be hauled from the mines to run locomotives, farmers cannot market their produce, boats cannot reach their destination on the canals ..."

Fire vehicle without horses

One of the greatest casualties that was directly associated to the equine flu outbreak occurred in the city of Boston. Fire engines back then were drawn by horses, and with the animals sick, could no longer respond to fires. A fire broke out in the city on November 9^th, and the firemen were required to pull their own equipment, severely impeding their firefighting abilities. The fire raged and became one of the worst disasters in the city’s history. It killed 13 people, destroyed 776 buildings, and cost over $75 million.

Out west, even the US cavalry was also affected. The flu virus had spread south to Mexico and Cuba, and also to the Pacific coast. The soldiers fought their Indian campaign against the Apache on foot. The Apaches had to do the same, as their animals became infected as well.

The vast majority of affected horses that survived (the mortality rate was said to be 10%) were fully healthy again the next year, but the economic impact of the outbreak was felt by major cities for years to come. 

Garden of the Gods

Before the white man settled at the base of Pikes Peak, the area was home to several American Indian tribes, such as the Cheyenne. In August of 1859, two Denver surveyors scouting the area for a new town site, to be named Colorado City, happened upon acreage consisting of sandstone rock formations. One of the surveyors thought the area would be perfect for a beer garden in generations to come. The other believed the land was a better fit for the Gods to assemble, and the name, 'Garden of the Gods' was born. Later, General William Jackson Palmer, founder of Colorado Springs, urged his friend and railroad builder Charles Elliott Perkins to move to the Garden of the Gods area, build himself a home and erect a railroad from Colorado Springs to Chicago. Perkins did come to Colorado Springs. He purchased some of the land and bought more later, but he never built a home amidst the red rocks. He admired the beauty of the land as it was and hoped to arrange for the land to become a public park, but he died before he saw this happen. His children honored his wishes in 1909, and Garden of the Gods became a public park, with no admission fee for entry, no alcohol served and no buildings allowed to be erected.    



Balanced Rock

The park doesn't just consist of red rocks. There are plenty of native plants, bushes and trees to provide shade from the sun. As far back as the late 1800's, folks toured the park in their buggies. And as cameras became more popular and cheaper, they took photos, too. One of the more interesting spots folks visited and still do is Balanced Rock. The name speaks for itself; a large boulder precariously situated on a thin base. Years ago, from fear the rock would topple and roll downhill, the base was filled with cement, though an exact date of when this was done is unknown.

Steamboat Rock

Steamboat Rock is right next to Balanced Rock. A road separates the two. The top of Steamboat resembles a ship deck. Early on, people were allowed to climb to the top of Steamboat. (With the road, people walking by and snapping pictures or enjoying the view, folks aren't allowed to climb to the top any longer.) Steamboat is also unique with the story behind it. It's said that back in the day, the owner of the land encompassing Steamboat and Balanced rock had a son who charged a fee to take photos of the tourists. Once the camera became popular, folks stopped paying the fee. The owner, Goerke, built a tall, wooden fence and charged a 25 cent admission fee so folks could continue to admire and photograph the rocks. People complained and Goerke soon found himself in a dispute with the city of Manitou Springs over who owned the road rights to the rocks. Goerke lost the initial battle but later won in appeals court.  Afterward, it's said that he granted a public right-of-way to the city of Manitou Springs when he was in the process of divorcing his wife so she couldn't claim the property.    

Another such popular attraction is Kissing Camels (left). From the photo, one can see the top of the rocks have formed together to resemble two camels kissing. Thousands of photos of the camels have been taken by locals and by tourists. From the modern day parking lot, a sidewalk leads down the front side of the camels, loops around and comes up the back side. Rock climbing near the camels is allowed, with a permit and proper rock climbing gear.

Today the park is open year-round and receives thousands of guests. A newly built visitor's center showcases a small theatre where one can learn how the rocks were formed billions of years ago, a gift shop and an eatery. At the south end of the park is garden of the Gods Trading Post--a must stop place for those who love all things western and Native American.  One of the oldest trading posts in the west, I speak from experience when I say they have the most beautiful pottery.

Deer are abundant in the park, as are picnic areas and breathtaking views of Pikes Peak, downtown Colorado Springs and Cheyenne Mountain. And best of all, it is still free to the public.

 

 

How 'bout a DOG for the holiday?

Happy Labor Day. With so many gathering to barbeque and enjoy the great outdoors on this fine Monday, I thought I’d talk about DOGs (and not the kind you pet or the hotdogs you eat.)

Several years ago, I attended a DOG, a Dutch oven gathering. At the time, I didn't even know they existed, but since I'm a girl scout from way back when, I thought it would be a great article for the magazine I edit for so I contacted the coordinator for the event and my husband and I drove to a small town about an hour from home. It was a blast.

We enjoyed some incredibly good food, all cooked on Dutch ovens. When we arrived, several were situated in the park with their set-ups. I thought it interesting that they stacked the Dutch ovens with coals in between and encircled the tower with a ring of aluminum to contain the heat.

I took my antique oven to share and en route, called my mother-in-law for more info. Turns out my husband's great grandfather was a chuck wagon cook for some of the outfits out of Fort Worth. The Dutch oven we have rode on the wagon train that took him and his family north to Oklahoma in 1905, but with him being a cook prior to this, we're guessing the oven to be something he used as early as 1890's.

The second picture shows the number, 12 in. Besides describing the diameter of the lid, the number also determines the number of coals used on top and underneath the oven. An outdoor cook knows the number on the lid indicates the number of coals to use. The cook places the number plus three coals on top of the lid and the number minus three underneath. This formula equates to about 350 degrees if you were to bake something in an oven. I've enjoyed many tasty biscuits done this way. I also love cornbread baked in a Dutch oven. Afterwards, settlers would scour the insides with dry sand then oil the insides with mineral oil.

Anyway, I thought I'd share since my heroine, Shauna in Once Jilted has to cook with one. Please enjoy an excerpt:


              He peered at the item that looked suspiciously like a pair of gray long johns he owned. His brow furrowed. “Whose intimates be you scrubbing on?”

She rolled her lips between her teeth and tucked her chin. After a brief pause, her nose scrunched. “Yours.”

He stared at the pile of wrung clothes stacked on a mat then shifted his gaze to the few items remaining in the rinse water. Beside the fire, steam rose from a cooling, large black cauldron of soapy water. He grimaced at the strong smell of lye. Her initiative felt like an invasion of privacy, an intimate act shared between husband and wife. Why he should feel this way, he had no clue. Possibly because her quest for a husband remained foremost in his mind. The laundress in Nyesville usually washed his clothes for a small fee. He couldn’t recall feeling this way with someone else scrubbing his dirties.

“You’re not upset with me, are you?” She lifted another item from the water and slipped it between the two rollers. Twisting the crank, she wrung out a shirt and piled it with the others. “I only meant to repay you for your generosity.”

“Mad?” He fumbled for a word that would do his emotions justice and failed. He wasn’t really angry, just... “I don’t know how I feel.”

“You are upset. I’m sorry. It’s just that I had nothing to occupy my free hours this morning, and I saw the pile next to my—your bed, and I thought I’d help you by washing and then...”

He held up a hand. “You’re rambling. It’s fine. Really. Just noot what I expected.”

She released a pent up breath and smiled. “I’ll just finish wringing these few. It won’t take me but a moment to hang them, then I can set out food for the men.”

He considered offering his assistance, but thought better of it and jammed his hands in his pockets. The thought of helping her hang his unmentionables alongside his shirts and pants was just too personal. The moment became awkward as he searched for something more to say.

“My usual day to handle this chore is Friday.” She cranked another article through. “Wednesdays I bake bread.”

His mouth watered at the mention of fresh baked bread. “Do you think you could bake bread here?”

Her gaze shifted to the supply wagon as she rolled the last piece of wet clothing through the wringer. “I’m not sure. Perhaps I can do it in the Dutch oven.” Her lips curved into an engaging grin. “Tomorrow, I’ll give it my best try. Lefty’s been giving me pointers on cooking outside, so I’m sure between the two of us, we can figure it out.”

He nodded and turned to leave.

“Kane? I know you let me sleep in your tent last night, but with all your things still there, it makes more sense to put me somewhere else.”

Somewhere else? Did she think to ingratiate herself with another man by sharing his space? “And where might that be?”

She blinked and cleared her throat. “I’m not sure. I thought maybe there might be an extra tent.”

“Well, you thought wrong.” He knew he was being obstinate. The idea of this cantankerous woman anywhere but in his own tent where he could keep a closer eye on her left him cold inside. Perhaps it was the vulnerability she hid so well behind stubborn pride that made him feel protective. Aye, that had to be it. While he trusted all of the men under his direction with bridge construction, some of them were a mite shady when it came to the treatment of women.

 

 

 

Round-Robin Blog with Ginger #RndRbn0813

Welcome to Robin's "Round Robin blog" where Robin supplies the topic and we give our answers.  I'm really enjoying the experience, and anyone can participate if they want.  Just contact Robin or me.

Borrowed from FanPop.com

TOPIC: Have you ever met a real-life character? Someone who was very different from your preconceptions, or someone who was just bigger than life, or whose lifestyle was so very different? A very eccentric someone? Tell about them (without giving real identities) in any manner you like. Did they change your viewpoint? Did you use them as a fictional character?

BOY!!!!  Did I ever.  I lived in California at the time and this long-known and well-respected actor happened to come to the dentist in the office next to my dentist.  I'd long heard rumors of how the office staff disappeared from my dentists to next door whenever he came to town, but circumstances never allowed me to experience his presence personally.  However, one day he stopped at a neighborhood bar and grill where my then husband and some of his cronies were hanging out for a bit of after-shift relaxation.  Of course, several of them called home to tell us "HE" was there.  I happened to be with two of the other wives, and we all had children, so we flipped a coin to see who stayed home.  I didn't lose the toss, so Karan and I left poor Kim with the kids and headed downtown.

Everyone there was in awe of him.  Me included, as he had long been a TV hero, especially westerns.  I wasn't yet an author then, but I imagine I might have patterned a hero or two after him since I write western historical.  The fellas from the PD wanted to buy him a drink, but no one had the nerve to approach him.  I've long been a believer that everyone puts their pants on one leg at a time, and certainly his just didn't fly out of the closet and appear on him automatically so I said, "What's the big deal.  He's just someone who happened to make it big.  I don't have a problem asking him."

So, I sauntered across the room to the bar where he sat with a friend and stood for a second until he noticed me.  Before I could say a word, he waved me away like one would a pesky fly, saying, "No autographs please."

That pissed me off.  Not only do I believe the pant theory, I also don't relish autographs.  Hell, I could sign his name on a piece of paper and who would know the difference?  So, I broadened my shoulders, stared him in eyes not quite so gorgeous anymore and said, "Are you kidding?  I don't want your autograph."  I pointed out the group at the table.  "See those guys.  They're from a local PD and wanted to buy you a drink but were afraid to ask, but I assured them you were a nice guy. Seems I wasn't quite right.  Have a nice day."

I turned to leave, but he had to have the final say.  "Well, tell them thanks but no thanks, because they'd probably stop me and make me take a breathalyzer if I accepted their offer."

Needless to say, he was never a hero for me beyond that. More of an bung-hole actually.  A bunch of hard-working guys wanted to spend money on someone who could probably have bought the place, and he was just downright rude.  I know celebrities get bothered with autograph idiots, I mean hounds, but there wasn't one person even close to him at the time, and I think his response besides being rude was a bit pretentious.  I won't give you his name since the topic says without using real identities, but I can tell you he looked a whole lot like the guy who played Rowdy Yates on Rawhide.  *lol*

Would I base a hero on him now.  No way! 

Now, hop over to  http://wattleglen-margarettannersblog.blogspot.com.au/  and see what my friend Margaret Tanner has to say.

Civil War - Letters Home

By Alison Bruce

Headquarters, Camp Clark
Washington, D.C., July 14, 1861
My Very Dear Wife:
Indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days, perhaps to-morrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write a few lines, that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.

 So opens the letter from Major Sullivan Ballou, made famous by the documentary Ken Burn's Civil War. Accompanied by the haunting music of Ashoken Farewell, with the knowledge that it was the last letter Major Ballou send to his wife, the letter never fails to move me. Imagine what it would have been like to receive the letter.

In a time before electronic communication, the art of letter writing was highly respected. When you knew that what you were committing to paper may be read in front of distant friends and family, it put you on your mettle. In the nineteenth century, letters were a source of news and entertainment as well as a means of personal communication.

At the other end of the spectrum we have Private Testerman

My time has come for sleep and I must soon close I want you to rite to me as soon as you can for I will be glad to hear from you any time.Direct your letters as before and dont forget your best friend so I will end my few lines but mylove to you has no Endremember me as ever your love and friend. Excusebad riting.

William F. Testerman to Miss Jane Davis

Courtship was carried on via the mail. In wartime the post was unreliable but care packages found their way to soldiers, and pay packages found their way home to support the soldiers' families.

Private Josiah Reed was wounded during the Battle of Stones River in Tennessee on December 31, 1862. During his convalescence he started to work at the hospital and started medical studies during the war. As he writes the woman who would eventually become his wife, his future was uncertain and at any time he could be posted to active duty.

My prospect is good for staying, but I am still subject to orders. My arm has been entirely well for some time, but I am troubled some with rheumatism in my shoulders, otherwise I am perfectly well. Drs. Green & Jennings are both here yet and are practicing successfully. I am getting used to hospital life and begin to like it very well. My duties here are more constant than they would be in the field, but they are not attended with so many hardships and so much exposure. I have good opportunities for learning also, which is an item of no small importance. It is one of the best situations anywhere fore one who has read medicine a year or two and wants to complete his course. Of course I lack this necessary preparation, but I shall make as much as I can out of my opportunities.
...Since writing the above we caught a couple of mice. They got into a box of Farina and we covered it up tight & then wet a sponge with chloroform and threw it in. They soon keeled over and gave up the ghost.

Pvt Josiah Reed, Union Army to Elizabeth Woodward, April 15, 1863

 In HAZARDOUS UNIONS: Two Tales of a Civil War Christmas, by Alison Bruce and Kat Flannery, twin sisters Maggie and Matty Becker are separated by war. To introduce each sister's tale, Kat and I composed letters from Maggie to Matty, and Matty to Maggie. Letters, such as the one from Sullivan Ballou to his wife Sarah, inspired me when I wrote:

Dearest Matty,

I miss you more than I would ever have thought possible.

When we set out, I felt I was on a grand adventure. Then we reached St. Louis. The city has changed since we were there together, travelling west with Mama and Papa. It isn't so much the landmarks that are different, though the city has grown. It is the climate. All around me I could feel a level of excitement about the coming war that was almost frightening. No one doubts that war is coming, but truly, sister mine, I wish they had read their history. What they are wishing upon themselves is not the glorious venture they all expect.

... I have been told that Bellevue is lovely, but as Mama would say, "Lovely is as lovely does." Already I have seen some of the evils of slavery described in Mrs. Beecher-Stowe's novel. I fear I will see worse before long.

As the Bible says, and Papa often quoted, "I am a stranger in a strange land."

Your loving sister, Maggie

Bibliography:
The Civil War Archive
National Park Service, The Last Letter of Sullivan Ballou
Virginia Tech, Special Collections, Love Letters of the Civil War

The History of The Middle Finger by Ginger Simpson

I was unable to validate the truth of this story, so I can only assume it's made up.  I searched for such gestures used in the old west, but found none.  I did notice that the woman in the picture seemed to be dressed somewhat for the old western era.  One would think the common "gun fight" was the solution to anger during that time, but that myth is debunked below. Still,  I did consider this cute and worthy of sharing since I'm going to tie it in with western history. Following what may be the mythical explanation, I'm going to provide the link to Wikipedia and the long history of the middle finger for your perusal.  I can only assume if someone did use the gesture in the old west, they might have said, "yee haw, muthah tucker."  You get my drift?

The story I received:

Before the Battle of Agincourt in 1415, the French, anticipating victory over the English, proposed to cut off the middle finger of all captured English soldiers. Without the middle finger it would be impossible to draw the renowned English longbow and therefore they would be incapable of fighting in the future. This famous English longbow was made of the native English Yew tree, and the act of drawing the longbow was known as 'plucking the yew' (or 'pluck yew').

Much to the bewilderment of the French, the English won a major upset and began mocking the French by waving their middle fingers at the defeated French, saying, See, we can still pluck yew! Since 'pluck yew' is rather difficult to say, the difficult consonant cluster at the beginning has gradually changed to a labiodental fricative 'F', and thus the words often used in conjunction with the one-finger-salute! It is also because of the pheasant feathers on the arrows used with the longbow that the symbolic gesture is known as 'giving the bird.

And yew thought yew knew every plucking thing

******

As I said, I couldn't validate this was true, and it might be that someone with a great sense of humor concocted this version, however, I was amazed at the history presented on Wikipedia.  If you have time, check it out.  It's quite interesting:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finger_(gesture)

To tie this in to the old west, and because I'm sick at the moment, I'm borrow the following from:  

http://www.cracked.com/article_20372_5-ridiculous-myths-everyone-believes-about-wild-west_p2.html  Prepare to have everything you believe about the old west trampled.  :(

1.  Settlers and Indians constantly clashed.

Reality:  Of the thousands who traveled west, very few met death at the hands of Indians.  According to research, only a small percentage met their demise in that manner compared to the thousands who died because of disease and trail accidents.  Although "circle the wagons" was an indication to prepare for battle, trains usually traveled spread across the land rather than in one single line, therefore it would have taken hours to form hundreds of wagons into what we often see in westerns.

2. Cowboys wore Cowboy Hats.

Reality: Most wore anything but.  Black hats were common and not a sign of the "bad guy" as most westerns portray.  Here is pictorial proof, all borrow from the site I mention above:

1880 Stetson looking more like Amish head covering

Wild Bill

Billy the Kid

3. Guns were plentiful in the Old West.

Reality:  Actually, gun control laws during the era were more strict than today.  Many towns posted signs prohibiting the carrying of fire arms, but of course, as today, there were always those who failed to follow the rules, as in the shootout at the OK Corral.  The distance and type of bullets used then varied a great deal from the handguns of today, and the supposed distance a bullet traveled was 50 feet maximum.  Rifles and Shotguns were the weapons of choice, but how often did you see two Cowboys meet in the streets and shoot it out with those?

4.  Bank Robbers were Rampant in the Old West.

Reality:  Research reveals that only eight actual heists took place compared to thousands in modern day.  The reason was probably the smallness of the towns and the fact that the bank was usually within a few doors of the Sheriff's office.  The most common targets were trains and stagecoaches because they were isolated and a lot less dangerous than robbing a bank and risking getting caught or shot dead.

5.  This one hurts.  Cowboys are an American Creation.

Reality:  Cowboys are older than American itself.  Mexican Vaqueros were the first to originate cattle drives, developed most of the lingo we associate with Cowboys, and wore the first "Cowboy" hat that resembles the Stetson we imagine on our heroes' heads.  They taught American Cowboy's most of what they knew, and in repayment, besides taking over the culture, the term "Vaquero" somehow became "buckeroo."

So, there you have it.  Spoilers that betray most of what we've seen in TV and Theatre westerns.  Kind of disappointing, isn't it?  Please visit the link I used to provide this post and read the accountings in their entirety.  I've paraphrased and the creators there who did the research and wrote the article did a superb job of backing up their "reality."

It's a good thing most of us write fiction and can use our author's creative license.  *smile*