"Heup ! Git along there !" yelled the lanky built wrangler astride the paint. The young horse stood there legs stiff and unmoving, unwilling to let the cattle go back to the water hole.. Well sir, ole paint knew what was a comin next. The saw the long piece of leather snake past his ear and out towards the cattle who still weren’t moving to either’s satisfaction.

A sound like a rifle was transferred from that long leather snake to the ears of the paint and the cattle also. "CRAACCK !" The wrangler now had the attention of all the animals. All except one that is. The lead steer was an ole transplanted brahma. Sometimes he, well actually all the time he was totally stubborn and obstinate. Today was no different.

Now this ole bull was different in one way. He was just about the only red brahma around. Now red being the color that most bulls dislike, he seemed to dislike all the other cattle in the herd. Being the biggest he was also the meanest. Which however did not quite make him the smartest by any means. He must have thought to himself that this sweet grass really was good this year, so little or no attention did he pay to the warning sound of the whip. A big ole mouth full of sweet grass sure tasted good and he was really enjoying the taste when the second crack of the whip caught him just behind the right ear. The red swallowed the grass completely unchewed, head reared back and he tried to let out a bellow but was cut off due to a mouthful of grass stuck in his throat, But that grass didn’t stop him from a moving. No Sir. Off he bounded through the palmettos and other underbrush trying to escape that awful sting. But that was the reward he got by not listening to the first attention getter.

There was only one problem with all this activity however, in that the rest of the herd followed the red bull wherever he went. So, thirty or more head of cattle were now tromping through the underbrush and a heading only God knew where. Now ole paint saw what was happening even before his rider did, for you see he was well trained and knew just what to do. Off he galloped around the scrubs and beyond the stampeding cattle. Effectively cutting them off from their forced route of travel. He knew that there was an old marl pit over the next rise that was never filled up and if the herd continued they all would plunge to their death.

Reaching the edge of the pit, ole paint planted his feet well apart, locked his knees and stood directly in the path of the red bull and the rest of the herd would have to take. The rider heard them coming and stood up in the stirrups, uncoiling the big black leather whip he started whipping it around and around over his head. About that time the red bull emerged from the palmetto scrubs. "CRAACCK " went the whip, its leading edge caught the red bull on the tip of his nose. Again with a mighty bellow, but this time he stopped dead in his tracks. He wanted no more of that stinging lathe whip from the rider. It would be a long time before he would forget just what that rider was capable of doing.

Many of us are like the ole red bull. We go a charging off in all directions until something or someone becomes either a stumbling block or a direction maker in our life. Ole paint and the rider became the direction maker for the red bull. He now knew just what he had to do, and that was anything the rider wanted him to do. As long as he carried that black leather extension of his arm.

Jesus rides his ole paint, as the Holy Spirit. The bible is his extension and the word is the whip. They call the rider a "Cracker". God Bless, we’ll be talking to you again.