As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.
It is not that big of secret that I in Indian country, the wild kind, not the curry nigs from Asia. Our relations are pretty much we do not kill each other, but the bucks do make the warpath on each other or stupid people who venture into their midsts........the squaws apparently like being bred by Mexicans in exchange for Chinese narcotics and the children end up in Mexico, never to be seen again.
One does not question Indian self governance as that would be racist.
When I was a child, this is a story which amuses me, I saw in the paper a rifle for sale. It was a Remington 742, which meant it was a semi automatic rifle in 30.06. The price was 150 dollars which was a good value, and it came with a sling.....smelled like most things as the person died from smoking and the gun almost expired too.
So my dad went on the journey into Indian country, which was surprising as most things I came up with, got a big gigantic NO from him as they were concluded to be stupid ideas upon coming out of my mouth............until he thought of them the next week.
So he was gone most of the afternoon and came home for supper, as was his custom, and he had the rifle. It smelled of smoke and it was really in pretty good shape as let us face facts, a man buys a gun, he sights it in, and probably shoots a few rounds at a deer he harvests each year. The law of averages is he bought 3 boxes of shells when they were 5 bucks a box and he was still shooting the same rounds 20 years later when he dies.
This is a very nice gun. Does not like flat pointed Super X Winchester Silver Tips, in semi auto, but will print them to tack driving efficiency as it does all rounds put through it, as it is really an accurate gun. The old man had a gun kid in town put a Bushnell 4 power on it and as it all works so every well, I will never mess with this set up as you aim, pull the trigger and the bullet goes where you are looking as if by itself.
Now none of this is much of a story, until this part. So the old man tells me as I'm looking the gun over and pleased, "I go into the shop and the owner is not there. I mention about that gun in the paper to the guy behind the counter. It happens to be the owner's old man. He looks at the Remington on the wall behind him and says, "It says it is sold".
He then looks at the tag and says, "Oh that is some damn Indian", an promptly tears the sold tag off and sells it to my old man.
Apparently that was the era when Caucasians looked out for their own.
The old man telling me the story was a sensitive sort in not wanting to appear a racist, but not being sensitive to Indians enough to pass up a good buy. I just burst out laughing at the story as Indians are some of thee most racist people, like all Asians on the planet. They sometimes think I got something in me and I let it pass as a smiling red skin is better than one not so pleased with you.
As an example, the mother was really bumping noses in Indian country where she was raised, and they would come into the house and make themselves at home. When her brother were back from down south, where they fled to a Jehovah's Witnesses, one day this black haired white guy showed up with a pretty, very young, plump wife, encroaching on our family gathering. What do you expect from Witnesses, but that guy had something in him in being a breed. The mother's family was kind of into that stuff, as they petted Indians all the time. So as I was reading an obituary the other day, I came across a dead woman from the mother's nativity, and did not recognize the name. Saw the name of the family of breeds who was her Aunt that raised her, and I immediately knew she was a breed. Full member of the tribe it said, along with being a Witness.
Them breeds were down the Brier towns, went to school with them, same black hair, so that whole bunch must have been tapping the powwow, not that anything is wrong with that, as Teddy Roosevelt said most of the people in Montana from prominent families had blood in them too. You can see it no matter if they look White. Just know the names of who is who around here, and it turns out her Aunt was related to some big chief in history. Don't know how that got sown in the Brier, but them Indians aren't as tribal nativity as they seem to be. Don't know if she married a breed or a White man, but knew that family had blood.
Thing is there was a herd of them that lived north of the mother's place, and they were the best horse breakers in the country. Damned near killed the horse as they came back looking like Indian ponies eating cottonwood bark all winter, but them horses stayed trained.
Anyway that is the story of the Injun rifle. The reason you are reading on this, is I got me a mount for a 742 which will work on a 760 Remington. Beloved Uncle had a 760 and I have been whining to God for sometime about wanting that rifle, even if no one knows where the hell it is. So I got the mounts and am ready as why would God not give me that rifle, as I invested in some mounts for it.
Here is a picture of a pretty squaw to prove I love Indians...........well this is like all Indians now, like most Blacks in more White than colour, but the cross is what the world order calls attractive.
Nuff Said
agtG
