2017 Inklings Book Contest finalist: Ella Stahl
Today we are featuring Inklings Book Contest 2017 finalist, Ella Stahl! Ella finished 7th grade this past school year. The story she submitted is called “Camille Wescott’s Wild West” We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we did!
Leave a comment below on what you thought!
CAMILLE WESCOTT’S WILD WEST
by Ella Stahl
A long, long time ago, all the land West of the Mississippi River was filled with cowboys, lawmen, farmers, trailblazers, outlaws, native Americans, pioneers, and scouts. This is the Wild West. This is where my story begins.
March 27, 1862
Sometimes I wonder too much. I wonder why I am here. I wonder why my mother had to die. I wonder if I was born on Friday, October 13, 1848, for a reason. Today I am traveling somewhere along the vast desert of the Wild West with my father and brother by my side.
“How much farther?” I asked my father.
“Just past those sand dunes and across the Green River,” he said. “Then we will finally be home.”
I was relieved. We had been riding for eight days straight.
March 29, 1862
It turned out to be a long ride before we got back to camp. All we caught were a few measly rabbits and a duck. It was barely enough to get us through the week. Just today my father has told me that there are some dangerous outlaws roaming around town and to stay away from all saloons and alleys.
“I will father. Just make sure to tell Michael the same,” I told him.
He nodded then said,” he’s still learning what is right and what is wrong. Just give him some time. I need you to bring these skins into the market. Just make sure not to accept anything lower than two pounds of grain.”
“I will.”
March 29, 1862
I have just gotten back from the market. For the two rabbit skins and one duck, I got one and a half bags of grain and one bag of potatoes. While I was there, I saw two men talking in very loud voices. They were talking in a foreign, angry sounding language.
Even before they had finished talking I had a growing suspicion that they were up to no good.
I have to tell someone, I thought to myself. You should have seen me rush home. I was like a bullet not stopping ‘til I hit my target.
“Father. FATHER!” I yelled.
No answer.
“Hello?” I said again.
At that moment I saw a note. I was so glad my father had taught me a few letters so that I could read the tiny note my father had left for me;
“Camille,
You better panic. Your brother has just been kidnapped by four anonymous outlaws. He was out in the field, playing with his red hound puppy when, all of a sudden, they came out of nowhere and swept him off his feet. I watched it all from my chair on the deck. I tried to run after them but they jumped on their horses and sped off. I am leaving this note so you know what has happened. I am riding my horse West to find him. We will hopefully be back soon. If we aren’t, go to neighbor Betty’s house to stay.
Best of luck,
Your Father”
“I have to go help him,” I said to myself. “I can’t risk my brother getting killed or worse.”
It was strange how I had made my mind up so fast. I am usually so shy and afraid.
April 1, 1862
I have no idea where I am. All around me is sand, dirt, and more sand. I had left my house two days ago and have been riding on my trusty donkey, Matilda, ever since. Everything looks the same here. The cacti, the ground, and the absence of animals. I am not even sure if I am riding West anymore.
“How am I ever going to find my father,” I exclaimed. “Wait a second!”
All those days I have been trying to find my Father when I should have been trying to find Michel. If I go looking for him, maybe I will meet up with my father on the way. What did those cattle wranglers want from my brother anyway?
Michel
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Michel was being dragged across the West by the outlaws.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked.
No answer.
We traveled on for several more days only stopping for food and a few hours of sleep. One night we stopped at a nearby village. It was late at night and almost everyone was asleep. There were several shops nearby advertising food, clothing, and refuge. There was one that said ‘Cowfolk Plus’. That was the one we went into.
As soon as we were inside, one of the outlaw’s pointed to the front desk, then to three leather saddles.
“What for?” I asked.
One of the biggest outlaws pointed to the saddles again. I walked up to the sleeping man at the counter. I quietly said to the man,“Excuse me, sir.” The sleeping store clerk didn’t answer. I looked back to see what the outlaws wanted me to do now. They weren’t there.
I looked back at the store clerk and tapped him gently. He snored a little but didn’t wake. I suddenly saw a little bell on the counter, barely visible beneath the stacks of paper and animal skins. I rang it with all my might.
April 2, 1862
I have just found a little town about 10 miles west of our little house. Matilda needs a rest and I have run out of food. The only things I have left to trade are my donkey and my saddle.
“I guess the saddle is going to have to go,” I said.
My donkey and I walked into the town and over to a little shop selling food. “Will you trade this here saddle for two loaves of bread and a hunk of cheese?” I asked the man at the counter.
“Maybe,” he said. “If yer throw in that bridle as well.”
“Alright,” I said taking the saddle and bridle off of Matilda.
I gave them to the store clerk and he gave me my bread and cheese. We then left the shop in search of a resting spot.
April 2, 1862
Matilda and I walked a little ways through the town before we found a little cottage next to a barn. The owners of the cottage were Mrs. and Mr. Tate. They gave me food and water and a nights stay in their barn.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Tate,” I said after I had had my share of food.
“No problem at all, dear,” she answered. “We have plenty to spare.”
The Tate barn was small but cozy. It was almost empty besides a few chickens and a small shelf crammed with animal feed, a diverse variety of jars of preserved food, and riding gear. Hay covered the ground and was stacked up against the walls. In the corner of the room, there was an especially big pile of hay covered with thick and thin wool blankets.
I threw my bag and thicker jacket down on the makeshift bed. I then went over to Matilda. I took off her saddle blanket and then went over to my bag. I took out the length of rope I use for lassoing and tied it around her neck. I had no trouble guiding her over to one of the empty stables and walking her in. There is always a horsehair brush in my bag which I then pulled out and started to brush her.
“It’s been a long day, huh, Matilda,” I cooed.
Suddenly my bed looked as comfy as a cloud. I climbed in and quickly fell asleep.
April 3, 1862
I am on my way again. After a quick daybreak breakfast of pickled pears, I had climbed onto Matilda’s now bare back, twisted her mane trough my fingers and rode out of the barn. Mrs. and Mr. Tate were out on their deck waving goodbye.
“Goodbye!” I called back, as my hands were busy.
I rode on like this for several hours until Matilda and I, both, had to stop and rest. We sat on the desert floor drinking water and sharing bread. Everywhere I looked there is nothing. No people, no animals, no real nature. It is like I have been shut off from the real world. It is getting lonely out here. I long for the comfort of my bed and the warm embrace of my father. Suddenly I see a figure walking towards me in the distance.
“Hello,” I call out into the distance.
The figure looks at me with a look of pure joy. It is my father!
“Dad!” I yell.
He starts running towards me. I run towards him too. We both hug and look at each other with happily. I am so glad to finally see my father again.
“What are you doing here?” he asks. “I told you to stay at home.”
“I couldn’t leave you out here alone. I would have been too bored at our house anyways. You know I would never miss out on a great adventure like this. You would never believe what has happened.” I went on like this for some time, chatting about my experiences and encounters. He told me a little and I told him a little and in this way, we both learned each other’s stories in great detail.
“I see you have brought Matilda,” he said.
“She didn’t want to miss out on the adventure either,” I exclaimed.
April 4, 1862
After a good night’s rest, my father and I were off. We decided to keep looking for my brother. So far it has been a long and tiring journey but I know I can do it with my father’s help. All we know is that the outlaws have taken him West towards the more broken down towns.
“I hope he is alright,” I told my father. “I don’t know I would what I would do if he was harmed.”
“Me too, honey. Me too.”
Michel
The store clerk woke with a start.
“Who be there?” he yelled out of surprise.
“It’s just me looking to buy some supplies,” I said.
“Oh yeah,” the store clerk said. “And what will that be.”
“Uhh,” I said looking around. “Just three leather saddles, I guess.”
“Coming right up,” the store clerk said to me.
While he was getting his supplies Michael looked around ‘Cowfolk Plus’. There were boxes of various items piled up against the walls. On the shelves, there were cans and bottles filled with different kinds of liquids. Cowboy hats were hung on the walls and saddles were displayed in cases.
There was even glass in the few windows of ‘Cowfolk Plus’.
“How are you going to pay for all of this?” the store clerk asked.
“I… uhh… umm. Well… I was thinking I could… um,” he stammered.
“I guess if you can’t pay I will have to cut your order,” the store clear warned.
“Oh no… I will figure out something,” he answered.
April 6, 1862
My dad and I have been riding around the West together for about two days. It has been ten days since I have seen my brother. I miss him dearly. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever see him again. For now, I should just worry about the future. No matter what happens just keep on riding. Riding, riding, riding. On and on. Endlessly.
Wait a second! A little ways off, in the very far distance, was a quaint little town. We couldn’t see much from here but we knew it was a place to stay the night.
April 7, 1866
This little town was full of nothing. There were almost no people and an especially small amount of buildings. We had our eye on one that advertised shelter and food for a low price.
“Look father!” There is a little well we can get a drink out of,” I exclaimed.
I walked over to the well with my diary in hand. There was little water but it was enough to slake our thirst.
“There is not much water,” I told my Father.
“Hold your horses,” a man yelled from behind me. “That is private property!”
“Oh, sorry sir,” I said looking over the edge one last time. It was at that moment that I dropped my book.
April 8, 1866
WET, Wet, wet.
My entire book is soaked from cover to cover. It is drooping like a wilted flower that has been very overwatered. Oh well, it’s not the first time I’ve dropped it.
Four years later
The most amazing things have happened in these four years. First of all, I am going to be a sheriff. Ol’ gunslinger Rick says I might be the first female sheriff. I hope I am. Rick has been teaching me for a few days and I have improved a lot. He says he will give me my badge in a few days. In the time I have been training, my father has been looking and asking around for my brother. No luck so far. Once I get my sheriff’s badge I hope to help him find my brother. Hopefully, I will be more helpful after I am sheriff.
“Camille, are you writing in your diary again?” asked the old gunslinger.
“Sorry sir,” I said jumping to my feet.
“Now Camille. Can you tell me how to load a rifle since you are paying so much attention?” Rick asked.
“Uhh…” I said. “I”m sorry sir. I wasn’t paying attention”.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, writing something down.
I lowered my head, embarrassed. The rest of the day I didn’t touch my diary at all. (I am writing this after supper). I really want to be a sheriff. To me, the risk is worth it. Here in the Wild West the average age for a sheriff is anywhere from 25 to 35. With me being only 18 I am very young for a sheriff. My father tells me it a bad idea. Me being only an 18-year-old girl on such a dangerous job.
“I’m home,” my father said while peeking his head through the door.
“Father!” I yelled.
My father had been gone for several weeks, looking for hints on where Michel could be. He rarely comes back to our little home and when he does it is only for a short amount of time.
Michel
There came a noise from the back of the shop. It was the sound of something breaking.
“Who’s there?” the store clerk asked.
The noise came again. This time it came distinctly from the storage area behind the counter. The store clerk went to the room behind the counter. I followed him. Once I had entered the big room I opened my mouth in surprise. Where all the items for sale should have been, there was nothing at all! All the boxes that should have been filled to the brim with shipments of items to buy were gone. There was not a single thing in the big room.
“Where is everything?” I asked.
The store clerk didn’t answer. He was still shocked.
All of a sudden he snapped out of it.
“Did you know about this?” he asked again, quiet but deadly.
“I don’t think so sir,” I answered.
“What do you mean, you don’t think so?” he asked growing red with anger.
Before I could answer and the man was still looking up at the ceiling trying to calm himself, I felt an arm close around my chest and over my mouth. I tried to scream but nothing came out. The strong arms pulled me out of the room and onto the back of a horse.
The strong arms finally let go of me. I looked behind me at my captive and saw that it was one of the outlaws that had told me to go into that store. Soon the rest of the gang caught up with us.
“Did you rob that store?” I asked.
They grunted and nodded at me, then gestured to makeshift wagons full of things you might find at a store called ‘Cowfolk Plus’.
“Wow,” I said impressed. “Do you think you could teach me to do that?”
April 12, 1866
Sorry I haven’t been able to write for the last few days. I have been busy learning to be a better sheriff. By the way, I finally have my badge! I am finally free of this little town. Of this little house.
“Camille, are you writing in that journal of yours again?”
“Of course I am, father,” I answered. “I want this here world to know about me someday.”
“Well we better get a move on if we ever want to find your brother,” my father answered.
“Father, is this hopeless?” I asked him. “Man, he got kidnapped more than five years ago. Should we just forget about this and live our lives in peace?”
“You should be ashamed! I mean he is only five and out there among the willows.”
“He is nine now.”
“As if there was a difference!” he yelled. “I just want my son back.”
He stormed out of the room and I started to pack up for the long journey.
April 18, 1866
We have been traveling for six days now. My father thinks that writing in my diary is a waste of time. I haven’t written in it for a week. Today I finally broke down. We have sold our little house and are staying in this here town.
“Camille, can you go to a store to get us some food?” he asked.
“Sure father,” I answered. I pushed open the door to our temporary home and got onto the back of Matilda. She still had no saddle and only a rope around her neck. It is because I do not have enough money to pay for a new one.
I rode up to a store called ‘Cowfolk Plus’. I tied Matilda up and walked inside.
“Excuse me, sir,” I said to the store clerk. Do you have some food for me and my donkey?” I asked.
“Sorry miss, I got nothing,” he said in a sad voice. “I be robbed just a few days ago.”
“Robbed! By whom?” I asked.
“A little boy and his outlaws,” he said.
“Oh, my! Well as you can see I am a sheriff,” I reported. “What did this boy look like?”
“Well he looked about ten, dressed in tattered clothes and a red bandana,” he answered. “ I didn’t see the outlaws. I think they were using the boy for a distraction.”
A sudden realization swept over me. “I think I know who our little bandit is. I will be back soon, sir, with your stolen goods!”
“I sure hope so,” the store clerk said under his breath.
April 18, 1866
“I have to go find my brother,” I said to myself, denying the fact that he might be a thief. “All I know is he was here and now all I need to do is ride West where they must have gone.”
I decided not to tell my father because I felt like I owed something to my brother for not getting home in time. The note I left for my father was small and undetailed, but it would have to do. Once Matilda was ready and I had packed food and supplies we rode west into the sunset.
Michel
After many nights of riding and pondering I have decided to be an outlaw. The outlaw life seems so exciting and so carefree. No worrying about getting lost or paying taxes. All you have to do is ride and steal.
I decided to announce this to my new colleagues. “Hey outlaws, I was thinking and… well I want to join you. Is that ok?”
Michel looked around. ”Uh, hello. Is that a yes?”
A few grunts.
“Ok then.”
A few hours later the outlaws and I rode into a little town. There were a few dozen little houses and a few pastures of grain. But the most intriguing thing about the town were the geysers. There were three of them which seemed to be the main source of the water for the crops. One of the outlaws pointed his finger at an old shack at the edge of the town and held up three of his fingers.
April 21, 1866
After three days of riding, I have finally reached a little town. There are a few dozen houses and a few pastures of grain. Though, the most amazing thing about the town were the geysers. It seemed like they were the main source of water for the crops of wheat.
“Wow,” I exclaimed. “ This is the first time I have ever seen a geyser. Oh look, Matilda, over there is a perfect little shack at the edge of town for us to stay in.”
We started to ride towards the shack. As soon as we got close to the little building and were about to walk in, we were surprised to see a gang of people, one of which a little boy, walked out. At first, I was surprised and asked if they lived here. Then I realized that I recognized the little boy.
“Michel!” I yelled and gave him a big hug. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”
“How ya doin’ Camille,” he answered. “Ya look different.”
“Why are you talking like that Michel?” I asked. “Nevermind, That’s not important right now. We have to get you home to father.”
“But I can’t leave my colleagues,” he whinnied.
I looked up and for what it seemed like the first time noticed the outlaws.
“Oh no,” I said. “Michel get behind me, these are dangerous outlaws. I am going to have to arrest them.”
“You’re a sheriff? Wow. And no they aren’t,” Michel defended. “They are my friends.”
“What are you talking about?!. These are the people who kidnapped and used you!”
“No, they are not. They are my friends,” he said. “And I am one of them too.”
Camille gasped. “Michel, no! You have to come home with me.”
“I can’t. I am an outlaw now and if you are going to arrest them then you are going to have to arrest me. But not without a fight,” he added.
“If that is the way you want to do it, fine,” I said.
I pulled out my pistol I had gotten from Ol’ Rick and he pulled out the rifle the outlaws had given him, just in case. I pulled the trigger and out came a bullet. Michel, luckily, had time to react. The bullet hit the ground next to him. Sand sprayed up everywhere. He cried out in shock and stepped away from the spot the bullet had hit.
“No more fighting,” I said rushing to his side. “You are coming with me and the outlaws are going to jail once and for all.”
“Ok sis,” He said holding back tears. “I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. Sometimes people like that can reel you in and make you think you are something you are not,” I said. “Wait a second. We have forgotten about the outlaws!”
“It’s fine sis,” he said. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Yes it does,” I said jumping on Matilda. “I have to avenge you and bring them to justice.
He nodded slowly, as if still trying to figure out what he believed. I put my hand around his shoulder and we walked to the donkey. Michel jumped on. He instinctively hugged her neck.
It was like this–Michel on the front of Matilda, his arms wrapped around her and me on the back with my arms around Michel, holding the donkey’s mane–that we rode off into the sunset (of course) looking to arrest some outlaws.
