I rounded a bend in the creek, right there by those big bluffs near the crossing, when all at once I found myself looking into the face of Benny the Imposter.
He glared at me and I glared right back. He spoke first. “You made quite a mess of my roundup, I hope you know.”
“It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”
“Yes, well, I’m trying to clean up your mess, and if you’ll just run along . . .”
“As a matter of fact, if you approached me just right, I might consider helping you out.”
He smirked. “Oh? That’s very kind of you, of course, but I’ve seen your work and, quite frankly, I’m not sure you know what you’re doing. I noticed a pattern of non-discipline and even non-thinking, and that bothers me.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I’ve seen a few patterns myself, and the one that bothers me most is that you’re still on my ranch.”
“I understand how hard it must be to go from being top dog to bottom dog, all in one morning.”
“I wouldn’t know about that. It’s never happened to me.”
He arched his brows. “Really? I’m sorry, sport, but I’m afraid you’ve lost your job to a better dog. Now, I have cattle to gather.” He turned and walked a few steps away. Then he stopped. “Oh, by the way, High Loper’s horse went down in quicksand and he’s pinned. You might want to go help him.”
“What? Loper’s horse . . .” I felt my temper rising. “Hey, that guy’s my master. If you saw that he was in quicksand, why didn’t you help him?”
“I am a specialist, highly trained in my discipline. I know nothing and care nothing about rescues. I was brought here to gather cattle, and gather cattle I shall. If doing rescues is something that appeals to you, you’re welcome to it. Now, excuse me, I’m already behind schedule.”
Before I could jump in the middle of him and give him the whipping he deserved, he disappeared into the jungle. Imagine that! A dog that was too important to help a cowboy in distress! I couldn’t believe it.
Well, you might say that High Loper was among the last people I had wanted to see that day, seeing as how he had wanted to shoot me the last time we’d met. But what’s a dog to do?
High Loper was my master and, in some ways, my friend. If he was in trouble, I had to help him out.
I went streaking down the creek, over rocks and sand, through brush and cattails. I climbed rivers and swam mountains, barked cattle out of the way, scared three rabbits out of the sagebrush, ran into two tree limbs and bounced off a big stump.
Then, all at once, I saw him up ahead, maybe forty yards upstream from the Parnell watergap. His colt had gone down in a wide pool of water and Loper’s right leg was pinned in the stirrup, and—here’s the serious part—the water was up to his chin!
Well, I was the right dog for this assignment and I knew just what to do. I made a dash to the water’s edge and started barking.
“Hank, help! Here, Hank!”
Indeed, my master was in serious trouble, so I took a big breath of air and barked louder than ever.
“The rope, Hank, bring me the rope!”
Rope? What rope? He must have been out of his head, just frightened so badly that he didn’t know what he was talking about. So I leaned into my task and switched over to Heavy Barking Mode.
“QUIT BARKING AND BRING ME THAT ROPE!”
I stopped barking and looked around for the . . .
Rope. Rope? ROPE? R O P E!
Hey, I had a rope around my neck! By merely jumping into the water and swimming out to him, it was possible that I could . . . good thing I was on my toes, Loper probably wouldn’t have noticed . . .
I hit the water with a big kersplash and swam out to him with long, graceful strokes. The colt saw me coming and began to thrash around. Loper’s nose went under the water and I thought there for a second that we’d lost him—or at least that I would have to dive down and pull him off the bottom, which I wasn’t looking forward to doing.
But then his head came back up. He coughed and sputtered and said, “Come on, Hank, just a few more feet, keep coming, boy!”
I did. I swam right to him, hooked my front paws over his shoulders, and gave him a big, juicy lick on the face, just to let him know that everything was going to be okay.
“Swim for shore, Hank! Go stand on the bank so I can get some leverage on this rope. My foot’s mashed against some mud and I think . . .”
The colt started thrashing again and Loper’s head went under. I didn’t have a second to spare. I shifted into the Very Rapid Dog Paddle Mode and virtually sprinted across the water.
Upon reaching the shore, I didn’t even bother to shake myself. I leaned into the rope and pulled. And pulled. And pulled!
At last, I felt his foot release from the mud. I staggered forward and continued to haul him toward the shore. He reached the shallows and stumbled out on the bank. He fell to his hands and knees and gasped for air.
I did a quick turn, rushed over to him, and began licking him again, this time in the ear. By George, we had saved ourselves a cowboy!
He threw his arm around my neck and gave me a squeeze. “Good dog, Hank. For once in your life, you showed up at just the right time.”
I didn’t know exactly what he meant by that, but I took it as a compliment.
After he had caught his breath, he waded back into the water, caught the colt by the briddle reins, and helped him struggle out of the mud and quicksand. Then, when we were all out on dry land, he cut off the rope around my neck.
“Good thing you broke that rope,” he said, patting me on the head, “or I’d have been fish food.”
Yes, I’d known that all along. I’d had this strange feeling, you see, a kind of vision that something evil was going to happen, and that’s why I had . . . your better cowdogs have the ability to predict the future, don’t you know, and . . .
Well, by that time the others had gathered the cattle and penned them, and we headed back to the corrals. I marched along beside the horse—well, a little ahead of the horse, so that I could clear our path of monsters and enemies, and also to give Miss Scamper a good, clean look at . . . well, ME, you might say.
I mean, there’s got to be a payoff somewhere in this life.
As we rode along, Loper looked down at me. “You know, Hank, I was all set to buy that hotshot cowdog for three hundred bucks, but he went past me three times while I was in the quicksand, and he never even barked.”
I could have told him that was a sorry dog.
“And I think I’ll just save my three hundred bucks . . .”
And maybe buy three hundred dollars’ worth of steak and hamburger for old Hank?
“. . . and buy myself a new pair of shop-made boots and consider it a heck of a deal. And for you, old pup, it’s double dog food.”
Hmm. Well, doubles on dog food beats singles. And a kick in the rear.
All the cowboys, all the dogs and cats, everybody on the ranch, everybody in the whole neighborhood turned out to welcome us home. You may not believe this, but somebody had called out a brass band and it was playing marches. Grown men cheered and threw cornfetti and streamers, while little children ran along beside us, throwing flowers and casting adoring glances in my general direction.
I could hear them talking. “There he is! That’s Hank the Cowdog.”
“You mean, the famous Head of Ranch Security?”
“Yes, and he’s even more handsome than I thought.”
“Oh, he is handsome! And so courageous and bold!”
Etc, etc.
As I said, I don’t expect everyone to believe this report, but I feel it’s my duty to record the facts, regardless of the . . . I think you get the point.
Well, once again I had managed to raise triumph out of the rubble of experience. I had saved the ranch, saved the boss, and saved my job. Be
nny the Imposter had been exposed as a heartless cad, and Miss Scamper was so impressed with my performance that she hardly knew what to say.
When the branding work was done and the cowboys were leaving, she looked down at me with those adoring eyes and tried to express the feelings that were tugging at her heart.
“Well, Miss Scamper, this was just another day in the life of Hank the Cowdog. Any time things get dull down at your place, come back and we’ll show you a few more tricks.”
“You may be a thorn in the flesh, big boy, but you sure came out of this one smelling like a rose.”
I’ll always remember the expression on her face as she rode away—the lopsided smile, her eyes rolled back in her head. She was definitely impressed.
When everyone had gone, Drover and I made our way down to the gas tanks and collapsed on our gunnysack beds. I was all set to throw up a long line of Zs.
“Hank, what did Miss Scamper mean when she said that stuff about thorns and roses?”
“Very simple, Drover. She was saying that, even though the world sometimes looks better through rose-colored glasses, it’s the thorns that stick to your ribs.”
“Oh. That still doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“In that case, let me add one more comment that should tie it all together and put it in its proper perspective: Good night.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all, Drover. When the end has ended happily, when the day is done and night has come, there’s nothing more to say, except good night and good night.”
“Good night, Hank.”
“Good night, skonk snort zzzzzzzzzzz.”
“My name’s Drover.”
“Skiffer murgle pork chop.”
“You going to sleep?”
“Skawwww snort zzzzzzzzzzz.”
“Oh drat. I’m kind of sleepy myzzzzelf.”
“Skiffering murgle zzzzzz whicklesnort.”
“I guess it’s morgle snorgle chickenbone zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.”
“Zzzzzzzzzz muddleskaw snort.”
“Miggle sniggle snort zzzzzzzzz.”
Z
Z
Z
Z
Z
Z
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Z Z
SnoreZ Z
Z Z
WheezeZ Z
Z Z
SnortZ Z
Z Z
Z Z
Z Z
Z Z Snore
Z Z
Z Z Wheeze
Z Z
Z Z Snort
Z Z
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Further Reading
Have you read all of Hank’s adventures?
1 The Original Adventures of Hank the Cowdog
2 The Further Adventures of Hank the Cowdog
3 It’s a Dog’s Life
4 Murder in the Middle Pasture
5 Faded Love
6 Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
7 The Curse of the Incredible Priceless Corncob
8 The Case of the One-Eyed Killer Stud Horse
9 The Case of the Halloween Ghost
10 Every Dog Has His Day
11 Lost in the Dark Unchanted Forest
12 The Case of the Fiddle-Playing Fox
13 The Wounded Buzzard on Christmas Eve
14 Hank the Cowdog and Monkey Business
15 The Case of the Missing Cat
16 Lost in the Blinded Blizzard
17 The Case of the Car-Barkaholic Dog
18 The Case of the Hooking Bull
19 The Case of the Midnight Rustler
20 The Phantom in the Mirror
21 The Case of the Vampire Cat
22 The Case of the Double Bumblebee Sting
23 Moonlight Madness
24 The Case of the Black-Hooded Hangmans
25 The Case of the Swirling Killer Tornado
26 The Case of the Kidnapped Collie
27 The Case of the Night-Stalking Bone Monster
28 The Mopwater Files
29 The Case of the Vampire Vacuum Sweeper
30 The Case of the Haystack Kitties
31 The Case of the Vanishing Fishhook
32 The Garbage Monster from Outer Space
33 The Case of the Measled Cowboy
34 Slim’s Good-bye
35 The Case of the Saddle House Robbery
36 The Case of the Raging Rottweiler
37 The Case of the Deadly Ha-Ha Game
38 The Fling
39 The Secret Laundry Monster Files
40 The Case of the Missing Bird Dog
41 The Case of the Shipwrecked Tree
42 The Case of the Burrowing Robot
43 The Case of the Twisted Kitty
44 The Dungeon of Doom
45 The Case of the Falling Sky
46 The Case of the Tricky Trap
47 The Case of the Tender Cheeping Chickies
48 The Case of the Monkey Burglar
49 The Case of the Booby-Trapped Pickup
50 The Case of the Most Ancient Bone
51 The Case of the Blazing Sky
52 The Quest for the Great White Quail
53 Drover’s Secret Life
54 The Case of the Dinosaur Birds
55 The Case of the Secret Weapon
56 The Case of the Coyote Invasion
57 The Disappearance of Drover
58 The Case of the Mysterious Voice
About the Author and Illustrator
John R. Erickson, a former cowboy, has written numerous books for both children and adults and is best known for his acclaimed Hank the Cowdog series. He lives and works on his ranch in Perryton, Texas, with his family.
Gerald L. Holmes has illustrated numerous cartoons and textbooks in addition to the Hank the Cowdog series. He lives in Perryton, Texas.
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