Legacy

My name is Frank Palmer, my wife Judy and I have a West Texas horse ranch.  We raise and market Morgan Quarter Horses for a living. One weekend we had taken a few of our finest to a showing in San Antonia.  We arrived and got our stock unloaded and stabled and fed.  Then we decided to look around at what else was being shown.

It didn’t take long to notice a lot of attention was being paid to some horses over a few hundred feet to our left, as there was quite a crowd gathered.  Turns out that some Arab Potentate was displaying some magnificent white Arabian Stallions.  He was extolling their virtues most pronouncedly.  Or in Texas lingo, bragging himself silly.

He was offering to race his best against all comers on the nearby one mile around race track, and give five to one odds. I struck up a conversation with him and found out his name was Prince Faudit, a Son of Arabia.  We exchanged pleasantry’s and I told him how much I admired the beauty of his stallions.  I said I’d sure like to own one.  He asked what my horses were, and I told him Morgan Quarter horses.  I could tell by the gleam in his eye that he thought he’d found an easy mark.

He suggested I race one of my Morgan’s against one of his Arabians, and since he was feeling sporting he’d up the odds to ten to one. Guess he thought he saw me coming.  I told him no thank you because nothing could beat a good Arabian on a one mile track.  He looked awful disappointed like the fish just threw the hook.

Then I surprised him with my offer.  I said, tell you what; I’ll bet ten of my Morgan’s against  one of your Arabians providing we change it from a one mile track to a twenty mile track, in other words twenty laps.  Now it would normally take the money from three Morgan’s to buy one Arabian.  His ten finger calculator worked pretty good and he took the bait.  I though to myself, now whose the fish.

To say the least word of the race spread fast and the stands filled up.  The race was on and for the first two laps the Arabian left my Morgan in the dust, and the Prince was about to laugh himself silly.  That was Okay, I’d expected that.

What the Prince hadn’t expected, but I had, was that by the end of the sixth lap they were running neck to neck.  By the end of the seventh lap my Morgan was pulling ahead.  By the end of the tenth lap by Morgan was starting to lap the Arabian.  To speed the tale up let me say that when my Morgan finished the twentieth lap the Arabian was finishing his fifteenth.

My, my the Prince had one long face.  He said how could that have happened.  I explained it was really very simple.  Arabians are very speedy sprinters, probably the fastest in the world.  But that Morgan’s were bred for endurance; and that when his Arabian was tiring and slowing down, my Morgan was just starting to get his steam up.

Well the Prince got over it and being a good sport presented me with a beautiful Arabian like I’d always wanted.  One was enough for me as he would be more of a pet to me than anything else.

The Prince however had good business sense and an eye for the practical.  He said that the Morgan would be an excellent horse for the desert as long distances frequently had to be traversed.  Now the Prince had no shortage of money.  Potentates rarely did. So he said he’d like to purchase one hundred head of Morgan’s to be delivered at his home in Saudi Arabia.  He’d pay a premium and all expenses if I would personally deliver them.  I agreed.

So I engaged some drovers to make the trip and care for the horses in the cargo hold of a sizable ship the Prince had chartered. Judy insisted on going along because she had never been outside of Texas and this was her chance to see someplace else.  Since she was a excellent horse woman, I agreed.

It took awhile to round up a hundred head of the best plus ten. The plus ten was to offset any that might die en route.  If none did, the Prince got a free bonus.  We loaded them on trucks and drove them to the railhead for shipping to the seaport on the Gulf of Mexico where the chartered ship awaited.

Round up was the old fashioned way, but at least we didn’t have to actually drive them to the seaport like in the old west days. Of course Judy and I and our drovers all road the same train that was carrying the horses.  We knew when we got to Arabia that trucks wouldn’t solve the delivery problem and the old west method would need to be used.  Thus our drovers got a free trip also.

We arrived at the Arabian seaport and got the drive underway.  We figured overland about eight days.  The Prince also had three of his men waiting for us.  They would act as our guides and translators.  That was going to definitely be very helpful.

We also would not be making a straight line, but would be zigzagging a bit so as to reach an oasis where the horses could be watered each night.  The Prince had also arranged for food for the horses to be at each of the oasis’s.  Very efficient that Prince; I was impressed.  Yes, it was a few degrees hotter than Texas, and that’s saying a lot, however the horses were doing well as they didn’t appear to notice the difference.

It was the beginning of the fifth day out.  When I awoke in the morning I couldn’t find Judy.  I looked frantically to no avail and then I spotted the envelope where she’d had her bedroll.  I opened it up and it said.  Greetings, I’m holding your wife for ransom.  The ransom will be one hundred horses.  Bring them to the coordinates given and the exchange will be made. Cordially, Prince Baquo.

Needless to say I was beside myself, of course I put Judy’s safety above all else.  I needed advice.  For one I wasn’t sure I’d know how to find the coordinates mentioned or what I’d tell Prince Faudit.  I asked one of the men the Prince had sent along to guide us about the situation.  He was very sympathetic.  Come to find out that even desert technologies were modern these days.  The guide whipped out a cell phone and called Prince Faudit.

In a few minutes the guide came back to me and said this is what Prince Faudit says you should do.  I agreed because it was obvious the Prince knew more about dealing with the matter than I did.  Apparently the kidnap and ransom business was a bit of a local in house industry.  What’s more Prince Baquo was a nomadic cousin of Prince Faudit.  They had been somewhat competitive since their youth.

It was beginning to boggle my simple Texas mind.  In one days travel we reached the coordinates indicated by Prince Baquo.  We grouped the horses just outside his camp and my drovers attended to them.

Meanwhile my guide took me to Prince Baquos tent and I walked in.  There was Judy chained with alight weight chain about ten feet long and attached to the tents main pole.  Nearby on a dais sat Prince Baquo looking smugger than the cat who had just ate the Canary.

He said in perfect English.  Greetings Mr. Palmer, may the blessings of Allah be upon on you.  He then asked if I’d like to speak to my wife, and I said I sure would, I asked her if she was all right, and she said yes, that she had been treated with respect and given every possible comfort. That was a relief to me.

I then turned to Prince Baquo and said “Allah Akbar, Shalou, Akim.”  I thought he seemed to turn green and was about ready to fill his pants. I’d been told by my guide per orders of Prince Faudit to say that.  It was a request for asylum and hospitality.  That according to custom and religious belief there was no choice but to grant the request which would be good for three days.

Also it had to be honored even if the request came from and Infidel.  Plus a side benefit of the hospitality required the requester be provided with a woman of his choice for the duration.  That worked for me.  Guess which woman I requested.  That was an easy one wasn’t it.

As custom goes we had free movement and could leave anytime we wished and Prince Baquo couldn’t do nothing until the three days were up.

Needless to say we left in the morning with the rising sun and continued toward our original destination, along with all the horses.

We hadn’t gone to far when it was obvious we were being followed by Prince Baquo and a good number of his men.  That unnerved me quite a bit.

My guide said not to worry that was expected, but follow is all they could do until the three days were up.  My guide went on to say that just before the three days were up that about fifty of Prince Faudit’s riders would parade across the path like a living fence. In effect separating us from our followers.

I said I hoped there would not be hostilities.  My guide said not impossible, but very unlikely between cousins; and that other customs would come into play.  I said like what?  My guide said an emissary of Prince Faudit would approach Prince Baquo and tell him that he is invited to the big feast celebrating Prince Faudits acquisition of one hundred fine Morgan’s.  By custom Prince Baquo is obliged to accept. I got a chuckle out of that.

Well the trip back to Texas was a lot less eventful.  I’m enjoying the beauty of my fine Arabian white horse.  Judy and I mused that those were some strange customs, and she said you know in an odd sort of way it was a lot like playing Texas poker.  After that, what more can I say.