← Harold's Old Time Radio
Harold's Old Time Radio
Tales From The Diamond K 51-xx-xx ep03 Rusty Bill
00:14:02
Tales From The Diamond K 51-xx-xx ep03 Rusty Bill
Loading summary
Transcript10 lines
- [00:01]
Ken Maynard
Oh, oh, oh.
- [00:02]
Narrator
O'Reilly. Check engine light on. Take the guesswork out of your check engine light with O'Reilly Veriscan. It's free and provides a report with solutions based on over 650 million vehicle scans verified by ASE certified master technicians. And if you need help, we can recommend a shop for you. Ask for O'Reilly Veriscan today.
- [00:27]
Ken Maynard
Auto Parts. How you doing there, folks? This is Ken Maynard with another tale from the Diamond Cave. You know, it's mighty nice to make new friends and kind of visit with the old ones, too. Tarzan would like to say hello too, wouldn't you, boy? You know, that's his way of inviting you to visit with us for the next 15 minutes. I've got a little yarn here to tell you about a friend of mine, old Rusty Bill, used to hunt and scout along the river Colorado, way out there in the Indian country. Well, sir, tack room door is open. So why don't you all come right on in from the tack room of.
- [01:08]
Narrator
Ken Maynard's Diamond K Ranch. We're bringing you transcribed stories of adventures, stories of circus life, fascinating tales of the Old west where cowboys still follow the cattle trails, stories of rodeos and parades, colorful legends of the red man, hidden gold and buried treasure. The exciting tales from the Diamond K are told by Hollywood's champion of western stars, internationally famous Ken Maynard. Now, when you meet a champion like Ken, you just know he's full of adventurous stories. Real life stories, too. Or did you know Ken Maynard holds the world's championship for trick riding? And Ken's hunted for gold himself, stunt ridden in the circus, made scores of movies in Hollywood and so on. So naturally, his stories are just loaded with thrills and kids. You can have some of those stories for your very own to hear anytime you want. I'm talking about Ken's exciting Diamond K album of phonograph records. And listen, these stories were made especially for you. Ken opens the stories with a personal message for you and he'll call you by name, like hello, George or Don or Sally. Ken will speak right to you alone on your set of Ken Maynard Records. Now, can you tie that, partner? No, siree. And you can't beat the value either. Here's what you get. A beautiful full color record album with a thrilling picture of Ken and Tarzan on the front. And inside are four sides. That's two complete Wild west stories that start out by Ken talking personally to you. The two big 8 inch, unbreakable, pure vinyl light records are standard 78 RPM speed for the regular Familiar kind of phonograph. And they have pictures of Ken and Tarzan right on the records. And it's so easy to get them. All you do is send your name and address to Ken Maynard in care of this station and enclose a $1 bill. Just one, that's all. Just a $1 bill for ages of fun and enjoyment. Now, don't forget, you can't buy these records in any store because Ken makes them just for you. And he calls you by name right on the record. Now, don't you wait to get your Diamond K record album. The sooner you write Ken, the sooner you get your personalized album. So right now, to Ken Maynard, enclose a $1 bill and your name and address and send it to this station. Now, let's hear the exciting story Ken has for us today. Ken?
- [03:46]
Ken Maynard
Well, folks, we're gonna get on with our story now. You know, when I was a youngster just starting to ride the cattle trails, I met an old trapper, an Indian scout. His name was Rusty Bill. We were sitting around the chuck wagon just before chow time, my first trip on a cattle roundup. Old Rusty said to me that I'm going to give you a piece of advice, young feller. Maybe it won't mean much now, but in years to come, while you're riding through life, it might keep the trails open for you. Well, I never forgot what he said. And so I kind of like to pass it on to you youngsters because it kind of pertains to everything we do. Rusty Bill said, keep your eyes on the trail. Sometimes it twists and turns. Remember the water hose. Cause there's always someone passing by when you're not climbing the hills. Remember, it's rest, not speed, that gets you to the top. Watch the trees. They always bend with the wind. And when you're lost, don't keep pushing on. It's not too much trouble to go back and start all over again. Well, sir, from then on, I spent much time as I could with old Rusty. He taught me a good deal about horses, guns and men. I wasn't very old when I made my first trip, Colorado, across the mountains and down into eastern Arizona. We were trailing a string of ponies. It was about the middle of the summer and we were camping a small ravine somewhere near the Little Colorado River. Old Rusty was frying a pan of bacon that smelled mighty sweet in the early evening air. I was sitting on a dead log alongside the mountain stream, watching the chipmunk darting out among the rocks. Then I heard old Rusty's Voice. Call me Ken, boy. Come on over here. I reckon this is the prettiest country you ever saw, huh? Now take this very spot we're camping on. Nothing like it. Nowhere else in the world. He said, I've been following this trail back and forth and hunting and trapping for years. Most every time I've camped in this very spot. You can see the ashes and burnt rock all around. Come over here. I got up from the log and followed him to a big stone a dozen feet away. He. He looked at it, and his wrinkled old face lit up with pride. See that stone with the writing on the sun? Well, sir, I fixed that myself in 1901. Got my name and party I was taken through. Then he looked around the hills and said, I know where every rock and tree stream along this here old trail clean into Southern Arizona. Look down the ridge, Ken. You see that old cabin? I couldn't be lonesome as long as I saw that once a year. You see, I helped build it. Rusty said, mighty funny how it all come about. It's a strange story. Mighty strange. But don't get me talking now. There's work to be done. Better check up on the horses, son. It was hard for me to leave then. Old Rusty was a grave storyteller, but he was the boss. And as I checked the hobbles on the last horse to see if they'd be all right for the night, I happened to look down the ridge. And what I thought I saw almost made my heart stop beating. I started toward camp, calling for Rusty. Rusty. Rusty. Hey, Bill. Well, he dropped the frying pan and came running to meet me. I said, rusty, use your glasses. Quick. Look down on that ridge. You see that big rock in front of the cabin? Old Rusty looked at me in a kind of a disgusted way. Then he grunted, course I see it. I've been seeing it for a good many years. What is there about that rock that got you so fired excited? I pointed again at the rock, and my voice must have quivered as I said, well, there's a girl, an Indian girl dressed in white buckskins standing on that rock. Is she real, or am I seeing things? Say, kids, you enjoy my story? Hope so. Cause it's always been a favorite of mine. Let me just woo here for a minute and catch my thoughts while I tell you about another favorite of mine. It's this little old K shirt of mine that I wear every day. Have you heard about my K shirt? Well, in case you haven't, it's kind of like a T shirt, but made Especially for me, in soft cotton about the color of the desert sand, and right smack in front is a big diamond K brand from my ranch in Flamin Red. And Tarzan and me are on the K shirt, too, saying howdy. Well, I kind of like the colors and the way it fits and everything. I thought you might like one, too. Some of the kids around the neighborhood where I live asked me to get them some and. And I did. Now, they made buckaroo size, of course, in 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, and 12. And if you figure you'd like a K shirt for yourself, like I wear when I'm practicing stunt riding and tricks around my ranch, well, you can have one. Let me know your name and address. And on account of the fellow that makes a man a millionaire, he says, would you enclose a $1 bill so he can make the shirt up special for you? Sounds kind of simple like. So if you want a real western K shirt like mine, send your name and address and a dollar to this station. Fella made me pay a whole lot more than that for the ones I wore, so it sounds like a mighty big value to me. Now I'll quit gabbing, get on my story. Well, sir, as Rusty Bill raised his glasses to look where I told him there was an Indian girl standing on the rock, he looked at me kind of strange, like, for a minute. Then he focused on the spot and sort of a quiver ran up and down his back. Then he finally turned to me and he said, the Shoshones must be going north again. He didn't talk for a while after that. Just started puttering around the campfire, doing little things and trying to prove to me that there was nothing unusual about an Indian girl standing on a rock as straight and still as a statue. Finally, he motioned for me to put a couple of chunks of pine on the fire. Say he'd like to see it blaze up a little so it would make shadows among the trees. Then he said, now, Ken, can you bring that old stump of wood over here so I can lean my back agin it? I knew what was coming. Old Rusty Bill decided it was time to do a little talking about the Indian girl. He said her name was Painted Flower, and she was the daughter of Chief White Horse, leader of the Shoshone band. Rusty Bill went on to tell me that Painted Flyer fell in love with Jim Rankin, gentleman soldier and scout who rode the hills when the first white man moved in. This fellow Jim, had been all over and was a great one to fall in love with any woman. As long as she was beautiful and Painted Flyer was sure beautiful. The big chief liked him so much that he allowed them to marry, and they had an Indian wedding on the banks of the River Colorado. Rusty pointed towards the trail and said he'd come through there in the summer with a band of ponies. When Jim and his squaw, Painted Flyer, were building the cabin, and I'd just seen them down the ridge, well, Rusty stayed with them and helped Jim build the cabin. One day Jim said to Rusty, why don't you marry one of these Indian gals and settle down? There's room for another cabin. Old Rusty Bill snorted. No, siree. He was hitting the trail pronto. Then Rusty Bill told me he looked at Jim and his voice was dead serious. Two bloods like this will never mix. Well, Jim laughed at that and said Rusty was crazy, and when he came this way again next year, he would find a hearty welcome in the cabin in the hills. Rusty pushed on and spent the winter out in the desert. He didn't do so well, and as soon as the trails broke, he started back across the mountain. It was about two months before he made it back to where we were now camping. When he rode in, he said the sun had just gone down. He looked across the ridge and there stood Painted Flower on that rock. Rusty said he sure was mighty glad to get back and waved the Painted Flower, but he guessed she didn't see him. So he took the rope of the lead mule and started down the trail. He called her as he went, but still she didn't answer and looked kind of funny standing there still. So he started to run down the trail, calling, but still she didn't answer. When he got there, he was plumb out of breath. Where's Jim? He said. She didn't move, and a puzzled look came over her face. Where's Jim? He repeated. Her body stiffened and her black eyes were expressionless. He go, he go. That's all, she said. Rusty Bill stopped telling his story. I looked over at him as he poked at the bright red coals in the campfire. Then he straightened up and walked a few steps from camp and called to me. Come here, Ken, old boy. What do you see down there? Well, sir, there were hundreds of small fires that lit up the whole valley, kind of spotted like stars on a bright night. When Rusty Bill spoke, he kept his eyes on the valley below. That's the Shoshone camp, he said. Once every year at about this same time of evening, you could see painted flowers standing on that rock looking for Jim. But he never came back. You see, son, like I always said, two bloods like that will never, never mix. There's a story, folks. The day Jim Rankin disappeared, no white man was ever allowed in the valley. And believe me, they didn't dare go. And long after the Shoshones were driven from their land, this Indian legend was remembered. And many who disbelieve lost their lives mysteriously in the valley of Painted Flower.
- [12:42]
Narrator
Gosh, Ken, that was some story. I could listen to that one again and again. And speaking of stories, kids, wouldn't you like to be able to hear some of Ken's famous stories whenever you wanted? Well, you can with Ken Maynard's exciting Diamond K album of Wild west records. You can play them again and again for yourself and for your friends. They're terrific stories. Tales of cowboys and Indians lost gold and desperados. Stories just packed full of excitement. And best of all, these Ken Maynard records are personalized, made just for you and you alone, with a message from Ken. When you put the needle down on the record, the first thing you'll hear is, hello, Teddy. Say it, Ken.
- [13:32]
Ken Maynard
Hello, Teddy. Hello, Barbara, or whatever your name is.
- [13:36]
Narrator
Ken will say hello to you personally and tell you some of his favorite stories. Remember, you get an album with four sides, two records of standard 78 RPM speed, and all you do is send your name and address and enclose a $1 bill and send it to this station. Do it now, buckaroos, because the faster you write, the faster you'll get your album. Now here's Ken to tell you about his next story.
- [14:05]
Ken Maynard
Well, folks, this is Ken Maynard and Tarzan closing the door of the Diamond Cay Ranch tack room till next time we meet. And I'll tell you a mighty fascinating story then called the Oklahoma Kid. In the meantime, be sure to get your $1 bills in the mail for some real western fun.
- [14:21]
Narrator
You've been listening to Tales from the Diamond K, told by Ken Maynard, internationally famous cowboy and Hollywood's champion of Western stars. Tales from the Diamond K was transcribed and produced in Hollywood.