Six Legged Flies, Part one

  My dad would tell stories sometimes about him and sometime about family long since dead.  This is one of those stories. I have changed the names to protect the innocent or maybe because I have not way of knowing the names of the people involved.  This is called, ‘Six Legged Flies’ as told to by my father around a campfire near Bumping Lake, Washington.

Six Legged Flies
Part One
  "Uncle Chuck was young about the age you are now," my dad said pausing only to clarify that he was pointed to me.
  "He rode a horse like most people did back then. It wasn’t like it is today, everyone in the family having a car and all. He rode up into the mountains to his aunt’s cabin above Carey, Idaho. It was a long ride on a dry day and he took his time. His mother had made him come for some reason," he paused to think and it came to him. "He was sent up there to bring her a telegram from her mother, it had came to my uncles house because no deliveries were made to my great uncle's cabin."

  *Note the reason for his uncle Chuck going to the cabin seemed to change of year to year and campfire to campfire, but it really isn't important. What I believe is it was out of pure meanness; given what I know from the other tales of my great uncle Chuck this was the best plausible answer.
  "He took his time until he got within a few hundred yards from the cabin and at that point he splashed water on his face from his cantina and poured a little on the horse, not to cool him down, it was for effect. For the last few hundred yard he rode that horse as fast as he could hitting the horse in the flanks making as much noise as possible as he came into the little valley. Hoop, Hoop, Hoop," my dad would yell slapping the side of his good leg waken the squirrels from their nests.
  “He could see the cabin, it was more or else a shack in the forest. He could see his cousins running in from all direction to gather around him and as his aunt came out of the cabin wondering just what all the trouble was.
  He couldn't speak he just acted out of breath until she yelled at him, "Tell me why are you riding like someone is chasing you," said my father in a most convincing female's voice.
  Then in a small child's voice he answered, "I am hear to warn you that you are in danger."
  "From what," he said, again in the aunt’s voice.
  "There are people dead all over the valley below, horses and live stock too," he answered pointed the two pigs and the families only milking goat. My dad would point at the dogs or maybe the collection of coolers.
  "What’s killing them," whispering as she asked holding her kids closer as if there was someone within earshot.

  "It is the flies. They are killing people by the hundreds not far from here. Animals are lining dead on the side of the road, you better watch out for the flies," he said and prepare to depart.
  "What do you mean the flies?" she asked. Once again my father said using that woman‘s voice.
  "Watch out for the flies, with a patch of green and six legs," they are the poisonous ones. The Government is working on an insecticide to kill them before they spread to the rest of the country but I don't think it will do us much good," he said as he started to ride.
  "Where are you going? You should stay here and help me gather the children."
  "My mama said to tell everyone up the valley here, said she would whip me if someone died that didn't need to, because I stopped to eat your biscuits. You wouldn't to happen to have any of your famous biscuits. It has been a hard day’s ride.”

  "I sure do, just a minute," she said, disappearing into the cabin. "Here, take them all and here is a little honey, made them for dinner but I really don't think I will be needed them."
  My dad narrated and reach out towards the fire for a biscuits and took one from the bag acting as if he was there eating one in front of us.
  "He put them where they could easily be reach, right hear next to the horn on the saddle, and pulled out a letter from her mother and handed it to her. Mom said to give you that."
  He said as he acted out the little drama as much as told the story.
  "Thank you, Chuck you have been great nephew for come'in out and risking you life to save us," she said, placing letter into her pocket of her apron.

To be continued, Sorry about that but the story is just short of 1500 words and I thought I would just split it up. So check back in the next few days for part 2.