Bashful Horse

One of my favorite writers for the Big Timber Pioneer was Byron Grosfield. He knew the Brannin family and got his stories firsthand. His writings are very accurate and give true glimpses into the lives of those who lived around Big Timber and Melville. This is one of his stories of (my great) Uncle Ed.

Article taken from “Yarns from the Yellowstone” by Byron Grosfield 
Big Timber Pioneer, Jan 20, 1982 

A resident of Greycliff, Montana heard his name called as he walked home after dark.  Surprised, he turned around and listened. The voice came from a barn, so he walked toward it and beheld an acquaintance clad in nothing but a hat.

“Well, Ed, Ed Brannin! What’s happened!” he asked. “Where did you come from!”

“Find me some clothes, then I’ll talk,” Ed Brannin answered. This was one of the many times that he showed up at Greycliff to visit friends. He lived up Sweet Grass Canyon, forty or more miles away; he and others in the early 1900’s thought nothing of riding all day to attend a dance.

When shirt and pants were brought, Ed pulled them on at once and explained: “I started from home this morning and rather than ride ‘way around to cross the Yellowstone bridge at Big Timber, I took me a short cut because I knew I could ford the river at Greycliff.  Even though the water was deep I could take my clothes off, then tie them on the saddle, then let the horse pull me across. He’s gentle and that’s what I did. I had no trouble heading him for the opposite bank, I screwed my hat down tight, took a good hold on his tail and away we went.

“It was a cold ol’ swim but I figured I’d get warm again as soon as I got my clothes back on again. As soon as my feet hit bottom, I turned loose of the horse and let him climb out ahead of me. I took him easy, spoke his name so I could catch him and untie my clothes.  Instead of just waiting for me that danged horse turned his head, bugged his eyes at me standing there in my bare, white skin and spooked.”

“The knothead snorted and run off leaving me standing there naked as a jaybird. Without my boots, I didn’t have a chance to corner him. All I could do then was fight mosquitoes and wait for dark. I had to walk barefoot for over a half a mile to get to town here. That cussed cayuse, it’s time he learned something!”

Knowing Ed, I’ll bet he either educated that horse to tolerate naked people, or else he traded him off.

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