Sharpshootin Ellie
Lowell Arden was a world traveler, a bulk of a man at six-foot-six and two hundred-twenty pounds; no one who knew him ever expected him to marry and settle down. So when he arrived back home from his last voyage, he arrived with a wife he’d married two years prior, a Chinese cook and an East Indian house boy, of middle eastern descent.
Lowell’s wife, Ellie, was just a spit of a woman, at four- foot seven and ninety-eight pounds with bright red hair, she looked a bit like a petite fairy to the townsfolk of Tucson, but having grown up with Lowell the townsfolk welcomed them both home with open arms.
Lowell had made a fortune in shipping up north. He and Ellie moved into his late father’s home and started their cattle ranch, just outside of the town. He hired a foreman and some local men to work and with twenty-thousand head of cattle, they built a successful business.
It turned out that Ellie could rope, ride and shoot with the best of the men in Tucson, something which worried the women of the town and they quickly engaged her in the weekly quilting bee and Ellie excelled at it; her quilts became lovely artwork and it was the few hours a week that she anxiously awaited; she learned so much from the local women and reveled in the local gossip.
Both Lowell and Ellie were compassionate people, doing everything they could to help boost the town’s economy and aiding their neighbors whenever needed, which naturally won the love and respect of everyone in the town.
Ellie was always the opener at local sharpshooter competitions every year, when the townsfolk saw her shoot; there was no doubt who should have the job. It was said that she could pick the ear off of a jack rabbit at four-hundred paces, though it’s clear that the story may have been exaggerated. Her Springfield “Trapdoor”, though not a very rapid fire was always on target and the vision of such a tiny woman wielding a gun was half of the thrill of watching her shoot. Everyone could tell that Lowell was proud of his wife’s talent, as the smile on his face as he watched her, couldn’t possibly have gotten any wider.
In the summer of 1876, the town’s annual sharpshooter competition opened as usual; visitors to the town included some of the finest sharpshooters, both men and women throughout the country. Both Ellie and Lowell entered. Targets had been set up in a large open part of the countryside behind Main Street, on various trees.
Aside from Ellie’s wowing the audience, another female sharpshooter, Annie Oakley was there. So, it was no surprise when a five-foot tall Annie walked up to introduce herself to Ellie just after Ellie’s opening shot.
“The name’s Annie, Annie Oakley, Mrs. Arden. You shoot like you were born with that rifle as an arm! You should’ve entered the Cincinnati competition last year; you might’ve been a shoe’in!”
“I’m honored to meet you, Annie”, replied Ellie. I read about you out-shooting Frank Butler.”
“Yep, I did and then I married him! He’s over there, in that black hat and vest; the man with a mustache.” Annie pointed to a thin man standing near Lowell.
“He’s right next to my husband, Lowell.” Ellie responded.
“You’re sure pick’em tall honey.” Annie teased.
In no time, Ellie and Annie had become good friends. Annie and Frank were invited to stay at the ranch, anytime they were in town.
As the competition got underway, Ellie watched Annie complete another perfect record and was mesmerized. Could she actually beat Annie with her slow Springfield? Lowell encouraged her to not think about it, “Do your best babe and I’ll be proud.” When her turn came, Ellie aimed and fired every shot perfectly. Near the end, she, Annie and Mason Biggs, a shooter from Abilene, Texas were tied.
Lowell and Frank were both excellent shots but, neither could compare to their wives abilities.
With the final shooting scheduled for the next afternoon, Annie and Frank rode home with Ellie and Lowell. That evening, they dined on beef chop suey, from Lowell’s own ranch, cooked by his Chinese cook, Bingwin. The women fired off a few shots for practice, applauded by their husbands and a host of cowpokes from the bunk house. Rifles were well cleaned and a good night’s rest for all, ensured that Ellie and Annie were in top shooting form for the last shoot-off.
When the foursome rode into town that next morning, the girls were both prepared for anything and overflowing with confidence. Breakfast served at the Hotel diner was hearty though the women didn’t eat much; neither wanted to be uncomfortable for the match, as total focus was necessary.
One would think that a woman like Ellie, who shot only for the fun of it and was not big on competition, would be uncomfortable going up against Annie Oakley, but the fact is that she reveled in the challenge. Strong self-confidence was something that Ellie always had.
With three rounds, surely a clear winner would be revealed in no time, Ellie thought. Lowell and Frank watched anxiously as the girls loaded their rifles. Annie was first up and fired twelve shots that hit the target perfectly every time. Ellie was next and her shots hit the target as close to Annie’s as possible. The crowd went wild; the streets seemed to vibrate to the cheering.
Mason took his aim and fired off seven rounds, one of which missed the target. He took a few seconds to reload and refocus and fired five more, again with one missing the target completely. He grew more and more frustrated and glared at his competitors as he passed by them. They looked at one another and smiled.
The second round, was even more of a challenge, a different target, twenty paces further away saw both women consistently hitting their mark. Though Mason did his best, he missed one shot; he was growing tense. He told himself that he shouldn’t have had so many drinks earlier. He felt that he needed them to steel his nerves and now it was working against him.
Round three and Annie was up again. She fired twelve more times, hitting her mark perfectly, as did Ellie. Mason missed five shots, which left him steaming with rage. A refreshing break was allowed and everyone congregated in the saloon, except the sharpshooters.
Mason sat drinking in a corner, drowning his sorrows while sympathizers bought him drinks. Lowell and Frank sat across the room; both had a couple of beers. An hour later, the competition resumed with everyone excited to see who would win. After Six rounds of shooting with every mark being met, it appeared that the two women could be tied for days. The crowd roared; their clapping and dancing in the streets even seemed to get the horses neighing and stomping, as well. George Wylie, the bartender, donated several rounds of drinks to every onlooker in the crowd; it was the finest competition, Tucson had ever witnessed.
By this point, it was clear that the tie between Annie and Ellie must be broken at some point, at least half of the town wondered if it would be this particular day.
With the crowd elated and anxiety running high, the girls fired, but...Annie missed one shot in the first round. The moan from the crowd was shocking. Still, she wasn’t fazed; she took the rest of her shots with focus and calm, hitting her mark every time. Frank commented that, “Nobody’s perfect”, and taking out a bandanna, wiped his brow.
Ellie was rendered speechless as she stepped up, focused and fired...twelve perfect shots. Lowell beamed with pride, a smile so wide that it seemed it reached both of his earlobes. He puffed out his chest and took a long cool drink of beer.
Annie was up next and Frank yelled out, “C’mon babe, you can do it!” She loaded, took aim and fired twelve perfect rounds right into each target. As she passed Ellie she uttered, “Good luck honey.” The next thing that happened, no one could believe. Ellie, slow but sure, hit every single mark!
Lowell, cried out, “That’s my wife! Drinks for everybody on me!” Ellie stood dumbstruck as Annie walked up to her and gave her a big hug. “Ain’t no doubt about it, you were born with a rifle for an arm!” Both laughed heartily as Mason staggered from the bar and fell face down in the street; he lay there passed out while Ellie accepted her reward.
She was Two thousand dollars wealthier and she proudly made a speech and announced that she was donating her winnings to Jenny Langdon, who ran the local orphanage. Jenny cried with elation at the generous and unexpected contribution. Again, Lowell’s breast swelled proudly as he watched his wife, knowing that it was the most money the orphanage had ever received in any year.
While there were some who speculated that Ellie might have revealed to Annie that she was donating the money to charity and perhaps Annie had thrown the competition, for the children's sake, no one knows for certain. What is certain, is that Annie and Frank made regular trips to visit their new friends in Tucson, always having a fantastic time. Annie even gave Ellie a few pointers on trick riding and received one of Ellie’s finest handmade quilts, as a thank you.
Copyright, 2019, M.L. Kiser
Comments