Oklahombre, Piney Woods – People talked about

An Oklahombre

Very few Old Timers are left who watched the West through its growing pains. The rash of Westerns on our screens attempt to recapture the ways of the West, but they fall far short, for a true son of the prairies would put even Shane to shame.

No make-up man can grease paint a character to truly portray one tall straight-backed, hefty Oklahombre of a mere 83, who showed no signs of age but in his snow-white hair and the erosion that creased his face in a disarming grin. Even before he bellowed “By God” in his deep and heavy voice, you knew him to be a character right out of a covered wagon.

Like Kit Carson, he’d earned all the merit badges for scouting; he’d herded longhorns along the Chisholm Trail and been the flame of many a Kickapoo squaw. There’s a yawning canyon between the saddle-sore truth one could hear from him, and the reach-for-leather fiction about a cowpoke’s life in the beginnings of the West. The good cowboys didn’t all wear white hats any more than the bad ones all wore black ones. Every Indian didn’t ride a Pinto pony any more than they used a blanket or saddle. Every quick-on-the-trigger hero didn’t carry 20 notches on his gun, nor did he ride a handsome Palamino weighted with silver trappings!

Piney Woods People

Back in the East Texas Piney Woods, Zeb Hill farmed a clearing and batched in a cottonfield with a tabby and her four kittens as company. He had five arched openings cut low in his cabin door. One was cat-sized and the others were smaller. His pets slipped indoors and out through these holes, and one day when a croney asked Zeb why just one big hole wouldn’t be enough, Zeb answered, “Because when I say ‘Scat,’ I mean SCAT!”

This way-down part of the chitlin’ belt is known sometimes as shake and bake land. Zeb would always make his laziness pay off when he felt the chills coming on … he’d have his friends tie him to a persimmon tree in order to bring down the fruit. The listless effect of the weather has left its print upon these people; they’re a lackadaisical lot that like to get the biggest return from the smallest effort-a characteristic that dominates even their talk. A favorite expression in appraisal of the spring rains when one piney woodsman talks to another is “I reckon it’ll green up some when it fairs off!”

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