Clarence & Eagle’s Wings

A pair of crime fighters get some help in battling the bandits of the Old West

Once upon a time, in the Old West, Clarence—my stuffed camel and best friend— and I rode out after bank robbers. The two bandits had run off with sacks of money. We trailed them up steep hills, much like the stairs in our house, and across the vast plain between rocks that looked like the beds and rooms of our upstairs. Suddenly, shots rang out and Clarence and I hid behind a mattress-like corner of a rock. I drew my six-guns and fired back. The bandits had us cornered.

Suddenly, there was a highpitched yell from behind the bandits where they hid among the rocks. Arrows flew through the air. The startled bandits were so surprised they left the sacks of money on the ground, mounted their horses and fled. Cautiously, Clarence and I rode forward. A lone Native warrior, feathers in his hair and wearing buckskin clothing, stood among the rocks. He did not speak, but raised his open hand in greeting. I said, “Howdy!” When he spoke he simply said, “Bad men gone.”

I gathered up the sacks of money and placed them on Clarence’s back. The warrior came forward and extended his hand in friendship. We shook. I asked him to come back to town with me, but he said no. I told him my name and he said his was Eagle’s Wings. We agreed we would meet again on the trails and parted ways.

I rode back to town and, in front of a cheering crowd of people who’d gathered, returned the bank’s money.

Clarence and I rode to our secret valley hideout and lay down to rest. As I drifted off to sleep, in my mind’s eye, I saw Eagle’s Wings, the fierce Native warrior who was now my friend and ally in fighting the bandits of the Old West. ■