By LUCRECE HUDGINS
SYNOPSIS: Georgie Sanders, 7,
also known as "Kid Buckaroo,
Terror of the West," sets out to
help Santa Claus subdue Indians
in Santa Land. Growing small,
Bucky climbs on Snow Bird's back
and flies off like a cowboy. As
they ride through the air, a hawk
attacks and wounds Snow Bird.
CHAPTER FIVE
SANTA LAND AT LAST
. As the hawk came down again
Bucky remembered the lasso at
his waist. It was his last chance.
He had practiced for hours roping
the door knob at home. He could
make it circle in a beautiful sing
ing arc above his head, and throw
it straight and true.
Now, since he’d gotten on Snow
Bird’s back, it was tiny like him
self—hardly more than a piece of
twine. Still it was a lasso and it
was his only chance.
He swung the lariat above his
head. The hawk came on, his eyes
glittering. With one hand and both
legs Bucky clung to Snow Bird.
Wiht his free hand he threw his
loop.
In an instant Bucky was nearly
^ yanked from Snow Bird’s back as
bath he and the bird were dragged
suddenly towards the ground.
Bucky had caught the hawk
around the throat and the half
choked hawk was pulling them
all earthward. Just in time Bucky
recovered from his amazement
and let go the rope. The hawk
tplunged down and disappeared in
the great forests below.
But all was not well. Snow Bird
had been sorely hurt and soon
they began dropping slowly to
earth. They landed in a snow cov
ered field. Bucky was afraid he
would sink over his head in the
snow but he need not have for
ded. The moment he stepped off
Snow Bird’s back he too'k his real
shape again and was as tall as any
other seven-years-old boy.
Now he held Snow Bird in his
hands and cleaned his wounds.
One of his wings was torn.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to
fly again for a long time,” said
the bird. “You must go o*n by
yourself.”
Bucky said nothing. So the bird
said, “Speak. There is no need to
be so sad.”
Bucky said, “I’m not much of a
cowboy anymore. I’ve lost my
guns and horse and lariat. Guess
I wouldn't be much help to* Santa
now.”
Snow Bird considered for a
while. “You cun still say that4 Yip
pi ai ki-ay,' san’t you? And you’re
still the Terror of the West. What
a terror you were fighting off that
hawk”
Bucky felt better. “I’ll carry
you,” he offered.
But Spow Bird said no. “I will
''Santa! Santa!"cried Mrs.Claus. "There's something
' bothering the reindeer.^
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4
stay here. I am a snow bird and
this is my country.”
Bucky fixed a warm nest of
evergreens for Snow Bird, bade
him farewell and began to push
northward.
But soon he discovered there
were animals in the forests
through which he was travelling!
Not buffaloes, certainly. A cow
boy could have managed those.
But strange creatures darting
among the trees! Bucky’s heart
pounded. A branch suddenly
broke above him.
The boy started running. He
tripped in the snow, rolled over
and over, leaped to his feet, crash
ed into a tree. Scratched and
! bruised, he ran on wildly.
As it grew dark he had no idea
what direction he was going. By
•. ». •
now he hardly cared. He wanted
only to escape the animal he knew
was waiting for him in the dark.
He could feel the ground slop
ing upwards. He knew he was
climbing a hill. When he came to
the top he saw the most beautiful
thing he had seen in all his life:
lights at the botton of the hill.
“It’s Santa Land!” he sobbed.
He wiped his eyes, shouted ”yippi
ai ki-oy” and raced down the hill.
CHAPTER SIX i
BAD TIMES IN SANTA LAND j
Meanwhile, strange and awful j
things had been happening in j
1 Santa Land.
| On this particular night Mrs. j
Claus woke from a deep sleep, j
[ “Santa! Santa-” she cried, shak- j
| ing Santa’s bed. “There’s some
i thing bothering the reindeer. Lis
ten!”
Santa, instantly wide awake,
sat up and listened. He heard a
maid trampling in the stables.
Santa pulled on his boots and coat j
and raced from the house. Lights
went on all over Santa Land. All
the little workers, wakened by J
the noise, poured from their hous- i
es—some still in their pajamas
and nightgowns.
Marlowe, the sledmaker, ran by
Santa’s side.
“Don’t know,” said Santa. “Tie
your bathrobe around you. We
can’t all be getting colds just be
! fore Christmas.
At the stables they found the
reindeer skittering around their
stalls, rolling their eyes with
fright, and pounding the floor
with their hooves. While the
brownies lit lanters, Santa went
j to the deer, talking gently, socfth
ing them.
“Don’t see anything the mat
ter,” said Pudding. “Guess the
j wind frightened them.”
Suddenly there was a cry from
the far end of the barn. Dewey,
the whistle-maker, burst from a
stall and shouted: “Dasher has
gone! Our very best deer has
gone!”
The little folk rushed to the
stall. It was empty. They hunted
through the barn and the stable
yard. Dasher was nowhere to be
| found. Santa stood silent and se
1 ricms. The workers gathe red
around him crying, “Jindians
again!”
And the workers shook with
j fright. For weeks the Jindians
! had been annoying the Santa
Land workers.
; Now you are wondering what
I Jindians are. Everyone knows
| that all the Indians today are good
1 and friendly people. Well, Jindi
ans are the Indians who stayed
Wednesday, November 29, 1950 THE NOME NUGGET7
When he came to the top of the hill he saui the
most beautiful thin$ he had seen in all his life.
>
warlike when the other Indians
became our friends. They moved
further and further north until
they reached the North Pole and
of course you must visit the far
north lands to see them.
They changed their name to
Jindians so people wouldn’t get
them mixed up with Indians and
think they were friendly.
The Jindians were very angry
with Santa Claus. The Jindians
said they just naturally hated
good people. But the true reason
was because Santa never brought
them anything for Christmas.
“So,” said Jindian Chief Hurri
cane, “we fix so nobody get
Christmas.”
They crept into Santa Land and
stole food and toys. They threw
snowballs at the workers. They
had war dances and scared the
little folk half to death with their
whooping. But never before to
night had they done anything so
serious as steal one of Santa’s
reindeer.
Santa left the stables and re
turned to his cottage. Suddenly
his fairies and brownies shouted
and screamed and ran after him.
“Got one! I got one of the Jindi
ans!” gasped Patrick Tweedle
knees, the oldest dwarf in Santa
Land. He was hauling along by
the collar a trembling creature,
dirty and red eyed.
“And what a shabby, shaking,
shameful lookifig Jindian he is!”
jeered Tweedleknees.
“Stop, stop!” cried Santa. He
went up to the captive and peered
at him closely.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Sir — s-sir,” mumbled the
wretched one. “I am Kid Buck
aroo, Terror of the West.”
(Next: Bucky Comes to
the Rescue)
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