Len Redhawk stood on Fire Mountain cliff and raised his shield and spear to the sun. Clear blue skies and fluffy clouds. Finished with his morning meditations, he rode his horse toward White Springs, dreading the day before him. He had no choice but to guide Belladonna, Mayor Atropine's younger daughter, on a hunting trip, for no one stood up to the mayor. Belladonna knew the plains almost as well as he did, but wanted to annoy Myrtle, her older sister. Myrtle and Len were engaged, but her family delayed the wedding again and again and again.
He was near town when he heard a stallion cry. Kamali, the great pinto stallion of the Native tribe's wild herd, which roamed the Plains, was calling. He saw the stallion and a mare by a foal struggling by a bush. He rode over and saw the foal was caught in a snare. He cut the foal free, and it ran to its mother. She led it away. The snare was made of the special rope used by Belladonna and her friends.
Kamali walked over and sniffed Len. "I know, big fella," he said. "You want to thank me. I could use a favor. Marry Myrtle, get Mayor Atropine and his cronies to stop destroying our lands for 'development'. Something." Kamali nuzzled his shoulder and returned to his herd.
He waited unaxiously for Belladonna in front of the Courthouse. All too soon, Belladonna arrived, wearing the latest Eastern cowgirl fashion, with her rifle over her shoulder. Bikini bottom and top and fringe. Mostly fringe. He hoped the saddle would chafe her derriere but she had an uncanny ability to remain unchafed.
His day improved when he saw Myrtle following her. Myrtle wore long pants and a crop top and carried a jacket. She had her pistols and her long, blonde hair floated in the breeze. She smiled at him and his heart skipped a beat.
"Hunting for white buffalo today. Sheriff Chett spotted one over by Bald Mountain," said Belladonna.
Len hid his disappointment. A white buffalo was rare and important to Natives and settlers alike but could be hunted. It might take a month to find the precious animal. No wedding this month, either.
Myrtle slipped her hands around his arm. "Something's going on in Court. District judge is here to decide who gets the West Plains up to Bald Mountain."
"We need to get started if we're going to find that white buffalo," said Belladonna.
"Need to wait for the judge," said Myrtle. "Here she comes."
Mayor Atropine left the courthouse with Judge Mary Potts, Chief Running Elk, and Sheriff Chett. Townsfolk, natives, and local ranchers gathered to hear the verdict.
"We've agreed to settle the division between development and the plains with a race. Mayor Atropine gets to decide what kind of race, but it must be today," said Judge Potts.
Atropine sneered. "A horse race."
The watchers relaxed. The cowboys and Len had the fastest horses and wanted the plains free of development.
"Your horses against mine."
Len was puzzled, for the developers' horses could not win such a race. "Today at sunset. My horse is the iron horse, the Lighting Express." The afternoon train. Atropine waited.
The crowd groaned and began to mutter. No ordinary horse could outrun the train. The town was bound by the decision and would have to accept the results.
Soon the race was decided: three miles, starting where the train left the bridge over the river and ending where the main road crossed the tracks. Too far for horses to have a chance. The race would start when the locomotive left the bridge.
"Time's a wasting," said Belladonna. "Let's go, Len."
"Sorry, Belladonna," said Len. "The race comes first." He and Myrtle walked away.
Soon the chief and the cowboys decided on their riders: Len and several other cowboys who had fast horses.
The riders took their horses to Running Elk's barn to prepare for the race. After they were settled, Len and Myrtle walked across the plains.
"It's bad, isn't it, Len?" she asked.
"Yeah. Nothing we can do. Your dad. I don't want to talk against him, but he outwitted us. Flesh and blood horses against the iron horse."
A horse nickered. Len saw Kamali approaching him. The stallion stood in front of Len and waited.
"He wants you to ride," said Myrtle.
Len mounted and Kamali trotted off. Soon the stallion was miles farther away than he should have been, near Bald Mountain.
"I gotta be back for the race," said Len. Kamali looked at him and knelt. Len got off.
Kamali trotted a few yards away and looked over the mountains. The stallion called, though Len could see no other horses. The stallion called again, and Len looked to the sky. The clouds were shifting and changing. They formed horses, ran down from the sky and gathered by Kamali.
"Wind horses," said Len. "For the race. Thank you, Kamali." He mounted the stallion and they returned to Running Elk's, miles covered in seconds.
The cowboys and Running Elk were surprised and asked many questions, but Len only said the horses were for the race and afterwards would return to their home.
Len, on Kamali, waited along with the other horsemen by the bridge. "OOOoooooOOOOOH, the train whistle cried in the distance, a lonely sound. Several people waited at the starting line, and some waited at the finish line.
The Lightning Express appeared, approaching rapidly and seeming to move ever faster. The cowboys rode to the starting line as the train entered the bridge.
The train left the bridge and the horses were off. The race was neck and neck, but as the train and horses neared the finish line, the horses sailed in front, as if carried on great winds. The cowboys crossed the finish line first.
Amid cheers and groans, Len and the cowboys released their horses. Kamali led his cloud horses away. Myrtle ran up and kissed Len.
"Marry me tomorrow," Len said.
"Certainly," Myrtle said.
"The winnahs!" Judge Potts declared, "now and forever are the cowboys!"
