Hello there friends. It's a mighty nice day here at the Diamond Cay Ranch. The door of the
tack room is wide open so why don't you come on in. This is Ken Mayden in Tarzan.
Bringing you another 15 minutes of Western adventure. You know we're never too busy here
at the Diamond Cay to stop and visit for a while. Say you know some folks said to me a while back,
Ken what's a tack room? We've heard you talk about it but we've never been on the ranch so we're kind
of what you call tenderfoot. Well I'm gonna tell you right now that a tack room is a sort of a hangout
where the Cowboys can sit around relax. They keep their saddles, bridles, chaps, well all their
riding gear and souvenirs in there. It's sort of a bunk room too. The living room rolled into one
and I'm telling you this much, it's a mighty cozy place to do some storytelling. I've got a little
yarn for you now called Thunder Valley. From the tack room of Ken Maynard's Diamond Cay Ranch,
we're bringing you transcribed stories of adventure, stories of circus life, fascinating
tales of the Old West where Cowboys still follow the cattle trails, stories of rodeos and parades,
colorful legends of the Red Man, hidden gold and buried treasure. The exciting tales from the Diamond
Cay are told by Hollywood's champion of Western stars, internationally famous Ken Maynard. Now
while Ken's kind of getting you visitors all comfortable in the tack room, I just want to put
in my dollars worth for a second or two. You must have guessed I'm talking about the dollars and
dollars worth of entertainment you get with the Diamond Cay record album of Western stories,
told by that champion of Hollywood's Western stars, Ken Maynard. All you have to do is send
one dollar to get your very own personalized Diamond Cay record album. That's a pretty big
value buckaroos. You get four sides, two complete Wild West stories in a beautiful full-color album
with pictures of Ken and Tarzan on the front. Now you can't buy this album in any store, no sir.
Ken only sends these to his friends of the Diamond Cay. So for some real Western fun,
send your name and address to Ken Maynard and care of this station and the close of one dollar bill.
And just wait till you hear Ken say hello to you personally right on the record and call you by
name. He'll say, hello Harvey, hello Tom. And in that way your album is personalized and it's just
as easy as falling off a corral fence to get one. Just send your name and address to Ken Maynard
at this station and enclose a one dollar bill. Now Ken's all wound up and ready to go with his
newest tale of adventure. I'm sure in a fine story mood today. Did you ever get that lazy feeling when
the warm summer rolls around? Well I do. I like to get out on the highway and just ride and ride.
No matter where you go there's always something interesting to see. I guess we're all a little
like Huckleberry Finn just looking for adventure. Well sir, along the highway you see signs that say
historical marker 1,000 feet ahead. Did you ever stop and read any of them? You should. You'll find
some mighty interesting facts about this wonderful country you live in. True stories about the men
and women who followed the ox carts across the wilderness and then built cities and towns in a
land where nothing grew except sunflowers and sagebrush. Of course not all the markers are where
folks can find them unless they do a little searching like the one I found on an old dirt
road somewhere in the Red River country a few miles from the Mexican border. I'd been following
the river for about 10 miles trying to find a place where the water was shallow enough so I could
cross without a lot of trouble. Well I drew rain on a sandy knoll and looked around this desolate
country. You know there are times during man's travels that he'd give most anything just to have
someone to talk to and this was one of them for me. As I looked around I noticed the weather
beating old marker by the roadside half buried in the sand. I dismounted and tried to make out if
it was a tombstone or a signpost. Near as I could read it said Thunder Valley hunting ground of the
Comanche. There was an arrow pointing towards the north. I'd always been interested in Indian lore
so before the sunset I was many miles into the land where the red men had once roamed. In the far
off distance I noticed the outline of some sort of buildings so I decided to head for there and
make camp. Well I spent the night there. Turned out to be called Sonata, a ghost town that lay at the
base of Tucson Pass. I nosed around a bit looking into some of the deserted buildings then I found
I wasn't alone in this town. That was when I got acquainted with Charlie Skinner, the one-legged
stage driver who lived in the back room of Hadley's abandoned liver stable. That evening as Charlie
boiled a pot of stale coffee grounds I heard the strange story of Thunder Valley. Charlie, being
the his homemade crutch against the chair, and motioned toward the empty buildings that had once
been the little town of Sonata. Yes sir, mister, he said. I reckon you can call this a ghost town
in more ways than one but for the first time in 70 years folks are starting to move back here.
Mister, I remember when this was quite a little town. Then folks started moving out like scared
rabbits and it was them Indians that done it. Yep, it was them Indians all right. It was them Comanche
Indians. Charlie leaned forward as he reached for the coffee pot and his voice was raspy like a
fiddle string off key. He said maybe you noticed the boxed canyon to the east. Got more colors than
a rainbow when the sun hits it just right. Well the Comanche camp was just at the base of the
canyon. You know mister, he said, them Indians was a friendly tribe. No matter what you might have
heard. Chief Thunder Eagle made a treaty with the government and I reckon he meant to keep it.
But you know how some whites are? Greedy. Yes sir, greedy. They weren't satisfied to take the land
which I sort of figured rightfully belonged to them Indians. No sir. They wasn't satisfied with that.
Stole the Indians ponies and what few cattle they had. There were some had an idea that the Comanches
had a treasure of gold hid. Charlie got worked up as he told me the story. Paused for a minute and
then said, sounds kind of strange don't it mister? White men stealing and plundering from the red
man? But that's the way it was. Why they forced them Comanches back against the rim of the canyon
and during one of their raids an Indian brave got killed. By ding mister, he said, that was enough to
start a war. Well sir, folks, old Charlie was getting kind of excited by the sound of his own
voice. I reckon he hadn't used it much for years. Then he took a sip of black coffee to clear the
frog in his throat and continued. You know mister, Charlie said to me, Chief Thunder Eagle was too
smart to start a war. He figured out something else. Them Indians had a big powwow back there
somewhere in the Box Canyon. You could hear the drums beating for days. They lighted fires at
night and called on the great spirit. Well them fires lighted up the whole valley. Folks here got
kind of uneasy. They built barricades and forts and they figured the Comanches would strike any
minute. But they were wrong. Instead Chief Thunder Eagle rode into Sonata with a dozen braves and
spoke his piece. The folks in Sonata sort of took it as a joke. Some of them wanted to start war
right then and there, seeing as how they were already. But they ruled against it and Chief
Thunder Eagle rode back to camp and the powwow and drums continued for another week. Charlie told me
that what the Chief said that evening has been told thousands of times. As near as he could remember
it went something like this. The Chief said the great spirit was very angry at the white brothers
who had killed and stolen the red man, and that a curse had been placed on the land that once belonged
to the Indian, and that when the moon was gone the night was dark, the wind would blow in from the
east and the earth would rumble and shake, and if they did not flee from this land the great spirit
would become angry and many would die. Charlie got up from his chair and hobbled across the room and
opened the door. He peered out and the night he said, you know mister, it was such a night as this
that it happened. A black night, not a single star, a night of terror for Sonata. You know folks,
this has always been one of my favorite stories. It's a dog gone full of suspense. I kept wondering
what was going to happen, but now let me tell you about something you won't have to wonder about.
Only take a second and then I'll finish the story. You won't have to wonder whether you're getting
your money's worth when you stand in for a K-shirt. Now maybe you think that sounds conceited, but I'm
not the fellow that makes them. I just wear them because they're made special for me, and I honestly
think they're a real big value for only a dollar. I think you young buckaroos will really like this
K-shirt, the colors and the way they fit. I'm sure mama like the way they wash and need no iron,
lest she wants to. The K-shirt like I wear made buckaroos size for you in two, four, six, eight,
ten, or twelve. Whatever size you wear. Awful easy to get one. Just send me your name and address and
write K-shirt and then close just one dollar bill and send it to this station. Be sure to send your
size so the fellow can make it to fit you. Well now getting back to the legend of Thunder Valley,
the shadow of fear crossed Charlie Skinner's face as he told me what happened that fateful night in
Sonata. The gentle wind that started in the east, just as Chief Thunder Eagle had prophesied,
grew into a roaring howl and it grew and grew till a tree shook themselves loose from the ground.
The earth rumbled like distant thunder and the houses shook. Dishes fell out of the cupboards
and broke. Barns blew down and cattle stampeded and the people clutched anything as the wind
roared and the ground shook. Charlie said, I reckon the great spirit was really peeved that night.
When the next morning came, there were some folks who survived who said it was just a natural
earthquake that had crossed the valley and wouldn't believe Chief Thunder Eagle had really been able to
put a curse on the land. Charlie said, but his voice was scarcely above a whisper as he continued,
but here's something kind of strange mister. That was only the first time. Every night that the moon
was gone, the sky was dark, the wind came in from the east, the earth rumbled and the houses shook.
Day after day you could see ranchers and town folks packing what few belongings they had
and getting ready to leave. And there standing alone high on the Tucson pass, Chief Thunder Eagle stood
watching the settlers cross the valley and disappear along the riverbed.
And year after year the legend grew until the white man was afraid to come into Sonata.
Charlie finished his story with, like I said mister, there were some folks who thought it was just a
series of earthquakes, but myself, I go along with them who realize that there are a lot of mysteries
in this world we've never been able to figure out. Well, that was the end of Charlie's story.
I really didn't know what I thought about the tale of Thunder Valley, but as I left the little ghost
town of Sonata the next night, I turned in the saddle and looked at the mighty cliffs of Tucson
Pass. And for a moment I thought I heard a far distant rumble like thunder and felt a sudden
tremble in the earth as it crossed the valley. And as I rode towards the banks of the Red River,
I wondered about Chief Thunder Cloud and the mysterious tale of Thunder Valley. My goodness,
Ken, that was, oh boy, that really had my hair standing on end. What a thriller. And folks,
Ken will be back in just a minute or two to tell you about his next exciting Diamond K. Tale.
And while he's deciding which one it's going to be, I want to tell you young buckaroos about another
thrill. You know the one I mean, the thrill of hearing yourself called by name when Ken says
hello to you personally on his Diamond K. record album of Western Tales. Now everybody will know
it's your album because they'll hear Ken talk to you and say hello personally. The album contains
two wild and woolly Western Tales told as only Ken can tell them from his true experiences.
Why, you'll have more fun than a circus playing them for all your friends, and I'll wage a mom
and dad will kind of listen in too. You know how to get this album, don't you? Just send your name
and address to Ken Maynard in care of this station and enclose a one dollar bill. Send your name
and address to Ken Maynard. See, I'm going to spell that for some of you. If you don't already
know, you should. That's K-E-N for Ken Maynard, M-A-Y-N-A-R-D. Ken Maynard in care of this station
and enclose a one dollar bill. No fooling, it's the biggest value in a record I ever heard of
for a dollar, and I think you'll agree. So send for yours today. Now let's just rope Ken in here
for a few words. Well folks, it's time to bring our story round up to a close. This is Ken Maynard and
Tarzan closing up the tack room at the Diamond K. Ranch till I see you next time when I'll see you
the story of the great stampede. We'll be looking for you, and in the meantime, get them one dollar
bills in the mail now for some real western fun. One for the K-shirt and one for the Diamond K
record album. So long, folks. You've been listening to Tales from the Diamond K, transcribed stories
of adventure told by Ken Maynard, internationally famous cowboy and Hollywood's champion of western
stars. Tales from the Diamond K was produced in Hollywood.