Hello there, buckaroos. This is Ken Maynard and Tarzan.
In the tack room at the Diamond Cay.
Tarzan, will you stop nibbling at my cay shirt?
I've already told you that as soon as they can knit one big enough for you, you're going to have one of your own.
Won't that be a picture, buckaroos?
No offense, Tarzan.
Well, buckaroos, considering the number of years folks have been scratching and sifting the old earth's surface for easy wealth,
you'd think there wouldn't be anything left except gravel.
How would you like to have lived back in the days of El Dorado?
There was real adventure and action.
In those days, and I'll tell you more about it right quick like, in just a minute.
From the tack room of Ken Maynard's Diamond Cay Ranch, we're bringing you stories of adventure.
Stories of circus life, fascinating transcribed 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 here in the tack room, I just want to put in my dollars worth for a minute.
You must have guessed I'm talking about the dollars and dollars worth of entertainment you get with a Diamond Cay record album of western stories,
told by that champion of Hollywood's western stars, Ken Maynard, and told only as Ken can tell them.
But all you have to do is send one dollar to get your very own personalized Diamond Cay record album.
Now that's a pretty big value buckaroos.
You get two complete Wild West stories and a beautiful full color album with pictures of Ken and Tarzan right on the front and pictures and a story about Ken on the back.
Now you can't buy this album in any store because Ken only sends these to his friends of the Diamond Cay.
So for some real western fun, send your name and address and a dollar bill to Records in care of this radio station.
And wait till you hear Ken say hello to you personally right on the record and call you by name.
He'll say, hello Tom, this is Ken Maynard with a story just for you.
And your record is personalized.
These are fine records too, made of pure vinylite, the finest most expensive material that money can buy.
That's so that you can't break them and you can play them over and over again and you won't wear them out.
And it's just as easy as falling off a corral fence to get one buckaroos.
Simply send your name and address and a dollar bill to Records in care of this radio station.
But be sure to send your name so Ken can call you by name and send right away.
And your album will be mail postage prepaid.
That's right, we'll pay the postage from here in Hollywood.
Now here's Ken to tell you about the lure of the El Dorado.
El Dorado, that's the name they gave the gilded king.
The fellow must have had a great dislike for clothes.
Anyway as the story goes, every morning he had a special lot of servants put oil on his skin.
Then these fellows would take a barrel of gold dust and just blow the stuff all over the king's body.
Until he had a farm fitting suit made out of solid gold.
Now this king was mighty particular.
He'd never wear the same suit longer than one day.
At night he'd take a bath in his own private lake and go to bed.
Next morning they repeated the whole thing, spraying on a new coat of gold.
Now this had been going on for years and years, each king repeating the custom of his predecessors, those fellows that came before.
You can right well imagine that a heap of gold must have washed down at the bottom of that lake.
Considering the size and stature of the average man, because kings were supposed to be bigger than all other men.
The royal dignists certainly needed an inexhaustible supply of gold to keep their king decently dressed.
There wasn't much work for the royal tailors thereabouts.
And I'll bet more than once they thought of picketing the castle, be that as it may.
Stories of the El Dorado fellow made folks set up and take notice all over the world.
And adventurous souls from England, Spain, Holland, and many other places were racing each other across the sea to see who'd find this fabulous kingdom first.
Of course, very few people take to mind, especially those with a taste for gold, an adventure that maybe this gilded king was quite content with things the way they were.
And he certainly didn't want to miss a stranger's coming in on him and peeling his clothes off.
It would prove downright embarrassing, even though they say a king can do no wrong.
Now, don't let that fool you. A king can catch cold just like anybody else, and having to run around without any clothes on is a quick way of doing it.
I don't know what it is that makes people think they have a right to kill and steal to get what they want.
Remember right in your hometown, the cop on the beat of the sheriff is doing or trying to do his job to keep someone from running off with something of yours.
One thing you notice in common about these fabulous cities and golden kings, no one knows right well exactly where they are.
And the stories about them would continue telling why sometimes a fellow can't rightly tell where to begin hunting them through the years.
And as things go nowadays, bad times come along, and those who once had plenty of the gleaming stuff probably have nothing left.
An aldorado may have found things so tough that he had to go around dressed and cast off silver.
Anyway, all this is a sort of a roundabout way of getting to the real heart of our story.
Give a listen for a moment or two to something I'm mighty proud to be associated with, then I'll go on with our story.
But now let me tell you about something that you don't need to wonder about. I'll only take a minute and then I'll finish the story.
You don'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 a K-shirt, the colors and the way they fit.
And I'm sure Mama will like the way they wash and need no ironing unless she wants to.
The K-shirt, like I wear, is made buckaroo size for you in 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, or 12, whatever size you wear.
Awfully easy to get one, too. Just send me your name and address and size and I'll see that one's mailed right out to you.
Send your name, address, and size to K-shirt and care of this radio station. Send right away.
Now let's get back to our story.
Well, buckaroos, when no one was able to locate the hide or dust, gold dust that is, of this El Dorado fellow,
the name El Dorado became associated with all mythical stories of unattainable wealth.
And for hundreds of years searching parties marched from one end of the country to the other, cleared the tip of South America, and that's sure covering territory.
Could be this golden king lived in Mexico. Montezuma was real enough, and he surely packed a heap of wealth.
It kept that fellow Cartes busy for a long time just hauling the stuff to his boats on the Gulf of Mexico to be shipped back to Spain.
And the wrecks of those treasured galleons are spread along the coast clear to New England.
Now maybe this El Dorado fellow lived down in Peru where an Inca named Atahualpa filled a room some 22 by 17 feet with gold to the height of 9 feet.
And all this is a ransom to that Pizerro conquistador, as they call those adventurous chaps from Spain who'd come across the ocean to relieve any unlikely candidate of some or all of his wealth.
Getting nearer our times, the gold strike in California, and the discovery of silver in Nevada was a farm of treasure hunting.
In fact, getting right down to brass tacks, the reason most of us do any work at all, outside of wanting to keep our stomachs full and some reason we find we can close our own backs,
they don't have to be made of gold dust, the reason we do any work at all is to accumulate our own personal treasure that we bank somewhere and possibly sit back and enjoy some time.
There are many who will say it's just a waste of time to let yourself go daydreaming about El Dorado and such, but the fellows who built this country,
those rugged boys who had the stamina to get out and do some prospecting, not necessarily for gold or silver, were most of them dreamers.
They were the boys who explored the vast wastes where no one had been before.
They were men who built the railroads, dug the oil wells, and did so many other things that helped make this country what it is today.
The world can use all kinds of people, those with imagination.
They blast away for fellows who follow with their wives, the merchants who supply their needs, the men who have patience and skill to build the towns and the industries,
while the pioneers shove on for new frontiers to conquer.
So buckaroos, do your jobs, and do them well, but take a little time for dreaming too.
It won't do you any harm and may keep that brain of yours more active.
You know, I had a letter the other day from a boy down in Texas, Mission, Texas. It was my hometown.
This young pope was bemoaning the fact that there's nothing left to do. Everything's been invented and discovered. He said there's no West to pioneer.
Why, buckaroos, there's so much left for you all to do. There'll always be frontiers.
Maybe I've been going off the deep end, am I? But I think El Dorado is being discovered every day.
Flights are through the air in a streaking jet, and the high tails are through the stratosphere in the atomic-powered spaceships of the future.
There's more buried treasure to be found today with all our accumulated learning than was ever to be found, even back in the days of the gilded king.
Dreaming, buckaroos, doesn't always mean letting your eyes spray away from the textbook in class to that squirrel in the tree outside the window,
or to that cloud that looks just like a mountain at the base of which the treasure lies buried, according to X on the map.
Six paces north of Rustler Spring, the real treasure is to be found in the textbook.
And if you'll do a might-of-concentrated digging, you'll find your El Dorado for sure.
Oh, well, Ken, that was certainly a different kind of story.
And folks, Ken will be back in just a minute to tell you about his next exciting diamond-k tale.
But first, I'd like to tell you, buckaroos, about another story I'm sure you won't want to miss.
Now, you know what I mean.
The stories Ken tells you in his album of Diamond K. record album of Weston Tales.
And most important is the thrill of Ken calling you by name right on the record.
That's right. Everybody will know that it's your album, because Ken will begin the story by saying,
Hello, Jess, or whatever your name is. Yes, Ken will say, Hello, Jess, this is Ken Maynard with a story just for you.
And Ken will tell you two Wild West stories, stories that you haven't heard on this series.
They're special stories written especially for your Diamond K. album.
There's one on each of the big eight-inch pure vinyl-like unbreakable records.
Why, you'll have more fun than a three-ring circus playing them for your friends.
And I'll bet mom and dad will listen in too and say, When your friends hear Ken Maynard talking to you personally,
boy, you'll be the envy of the entire neighborhood.
Now, you know how to get this album, don't you?
Just send your name, address, and the dollar bill to records in care of this radio station.
Why, it's the biggest value in records that I've ever heard of.
Two big, wonderful eight-inch records with pictures of Ken and Tarzan right on the front and pictures on the album too.
And it's all in full color.
Now, these records are absolutely unbreakable.
They're high-quality records made of pure vinylite, the finest material that money can buy.
You can play these records year in and year out, buckaroos, and don't worry about wearing them out.
So if you haven't already sent for your Diamond K. album, do it today.
But be sure to send your name too so Ken can call you by name right on the record.
Send your name, an address, and the dollar bill to records in care of this station.
Now, here's Ken to tell you about his next story.
Well, buckaroos, I sort of got carried away, I guess, by yarn spinning today.
But that letter from Tex Wilson down in Mason sent me to thinking,
would you write and tell me if you got something out of it?
I'd be glad to hear from you.
You just write me, Ken Maynard, in care of the station you're listening to,
and they'll see the letter gets into the mailbox by the road at the Diamond K. Ranch.
You might also tell me how you like your personalized records in those K-shirts of mine.
Are your pals asking you where you got them?
If you pass along the information, Tarzan and I will consider it a personal favor.
Say, Tarzan, what did you think of our story today?
Does it make horse sense to you?
Horses whinny
Well, he's nodding his head, so I'll take his word for it.
Tarzan always was a smart horse.
Getting along about that time now, so until next time when I tell you the story of Yankee Dan.
So long, buckaroos.
Horses whinny
You've been listening to Tales from the Diamond K.
Stories of adventure told by Ken Maynard in the nationally famous cowboy
and Hollywood's champion of western stars.
We hope you're one of the regular visitors to Ken's tack room.
The door is always open here at the Diamond K. Ranch every weekday at the same time.
Invite your friends to come along for a trip into the adventures of the wild, wild west.
And we bet that mom and dad will enjoy these stories too.
You know, Ken's a real, ridin', ropin', shootin' cowboy who's traveled all over the world,
looking for excitement and lost treasure, starring in circuses and rodeos and motion pictures.
And he's just chock full of rootin', tootin' stories.
Ken will be lookin' for ya.
Will you be with us?
Tales from the Diamond K. was transcribed and produced in Hollywood.