Free Nan Ryan by Written in the Stars

his Stetson, the Colonel hailed his adoring gallery. The white stallion pranced, strutted, cantered, and danced to the music, leaping softly in the light.
    So entranced was the crowd by the old master showman and his trained white stallion it took a minute for them to realize that other performers had followed the Colonel into the arena.
    Colonel Buck Buchannan’s Wild West Show was officially under way, the extravaganza opening with a colorful Grand Review. The fast-paced spectacle left the audience breathless. Featured performers galloped into the ring and pulled up sharply on their horses right in front of the packed stands. Some mounts reared as the Colonel’s white stallion had done. Others bowed. Still others pranced back and forth.
    The smiling, waving stars made a full circle around the arena and followed the Colonel out into the darkness as the rest of the cast entered. First came the big bell wagon, all bells clanging loudly, the heavy wagon being pulled by the renowned Belgian horses weighing- a ton each. Next the old-time chuck wagon, making a perfect figure eight in the arena. Then the gilded lion cage, bars close together, tawny mountain lion snarling and pacing inside. Other cages decorated with mirrors and gold gilt and housing wild animals paraded into the ring.
    Then in rode the Indians, led by Ancient Eyes in colorful war bonnet, his lance raised. Feathered and painted and shrieking war hoops, a contingent of Utes and Pawnees and Arapahos rode their bareback paint ponies into the light.
    After the Indians, dozens of Mexican vaqueros in bright, colorful serapes and oversize sombreros. Next the Cossacks and Bengal Lancers, all in native costume. Then the Rough Riders and charros. And suddenly the big arena was filled with cowboys, on foot and on horseback, herding along steers, buffaloes, mules, and horses.
    The shouts of the riders, the whips’ lashes, the neighs, bellows, and snorts of the animals, the creak of saddle leather, the colorful costumes, the stirring music—sounds and sights of the magnificent spectacle. With remarkable precision and pace, hundreds of men and animals moved around the arena and back out into the dark recesses outside.
    Right on their heels a special carriage rolled in, carrying the famed female sharpshooter, Texas Kate. She was smiling and waving, basking happily in the loud applause. Her graying brown hair was tightly curled around her broad, beaming face. She wore a fringed blouse and shirt, bolo tie, and boots. The front of her blouse was covered with marksmen’s medals.
    The carriage stopped in the arena’s center. Texas Kate stepped down into the spotlight with pistol, rifle, and shotgun. She was always first on the program. Years ago the Colonel had designed the show to graduate in excitement. Aware that shooting and shouts might unnerve the women and children in the audience, he brought on Texas Kate very early in the performance.
    Kate started very gently, shooting only with a pistol. It worked perfectly. The young children and the nervous women in the audience saw a smiling, harmless woman out there and soon relaxed. When Texas Kate had their total trust, she switched to the rifle and gradually increased until she was shooting with full charge. Skillfully she prepared the audiences for any frightening act that might come later.
    For a good half hour the trigger-talented Texas Kate put on a shooting exhibition unlike anything the paying crowd had ever seen. Bullets cracked and objects exploded as the smiling sure-shot female marksman hit stationary targets, moving targets, flying targets. Texas Kate beat her own record when she hit a total of forty-nine out of fifty glass balls tossed into the air. At thirty paces she hit the narrow edges of playing cards. She perfectly plugged silver dimes tossed into the air.
    The finishing segment of her routine was the crowd’s favorite. Texas Kate’s quiet assistant, the skinny little cowboy who had driven her carriage into