Descendents of Floyd & Grace Lytle

Ken Thompson's Unofficial Medicine Lodge Website

This page is devoted to stories about things that happened in the Gyp Hills. Some of them may be true and some of them may not be true. You be the judge. Table of Contents Talking with William There ain't no gold in them Gyp Hills The Early Dwellings at the Medicine River Read this story first to understand the story about the Cavalry. The Cavalry comes to town Medicine Lodge needs Buffalo Bill! The Day Muck-Muck Got His Wish Deacon Jim How Willie the Cripple Got His Nickname The Chestnut Mare Every chance I get, I'll publish a new Tall Tales of the Gyp Hills story, so check back often. The Great Blizzard of '71 A short story by Norman E. Thompson

Outlaw Hank Clinton winced as his Stetson blew into the old cedar tree along the trail. "Damn it's cold!" he thought as he led his horse to the tree and pulled his hat out of the branches. He was glad he didn't lose that hat to the wind. He just got it last summer when the gang rode into Wichita for supplies. A grin came on his face, in spite of the cold, as he thought about going in to get supplies, and nobody even knew that he had robbed 4 banks in southwest Kansas.

He led his horse back onto the trail and could make out the cabin up ahead. The horse trudged through the snow that was still a foot deep even though it had been a week since the last snowfall. "It's November and we've already had 3 or 4 deep snows like this," Hank thought to himself. "Coldest dam Winter I can remember." He got off the horse and pulled her inside the lean-to, took her saddle off, put a blanket over her, and poured some oats in the trough. It was cold but at least she'd be out of the snow and wind.

Ned Clinton, Hank's younger brother came out of the door. "So yer back!" he yelled when he saw Hank in the lean-to. "If'n it keeps snowing like this we're gonna run outta firewood perty soon! Soon as this storm breaks we better git to cuttin' some more!" Ned said to Hank as he load about 6 split logs into his arms. Hank followed Ned in the door and shook the snow off his coat. He hung his coat and Stetson on a hook along the wall and walked over to the fireplace. Hank's other brother Cecil was sitting at the table, eating something.

"What's for supper, Ned?"

"Beans 'n coffee. What'd ya expect, buffalo steak?" Ned answered.

"Hell, we got all that venison stored away! Dammit, go git some!" Hank yelled.

"Okay, okay, calm down. Save yer fightin' words for our next bank!" Ned grinned as he opened the door and went back out into the snowstorm.

Ned made his way through the cedar trees up the side of the hill. The path was covered with snow but Ned had followed it dozens of times when they set their venison up for Winter. He remember the nice warm sunny day last March when they found this canyon that made a perfect hide out in the Gyp Hills. The gang spent the whole summer cutting down elm trees and dragging them to the canyon so they could build the cabin. Then they built the lean-to to protect their horses. When Fall came, there were a lot of deer grazing in the area, so they shot several and put the meat up for Winter. About 30 feet up the side of the hill they dug down about 3 feet and made a square area and lined it with logs. Then they made a wood cover for it, and covered that with moss. Each time they got some deer cured, they wrapped it in butcher's paper and packed it down in the hole and kept it covered to keep for Winter. Ned brushed the snow off the cover, pulled the cover up and reached down in for a package of meat. As he pulled the meat up, a mouse ran out of the hole. "Dam, I hope we ain't got a buncha mice in our meat!" he thought to himself. He watched the mouse run off through the snow, and noticed something. That mouse ran up a snowbank and right up onto the roof of the lean-to. Then the mouse jumped off the roof right into a stack of haybales on the side of the lean-to. "Dam, that mouse ran right on top of the snow without fallin' in! Helluva deal!" he thought out loud. He couldn't see anymore mice in the hole so he put the cover back on and made his way back to the cabin.

Inside, Ned put the meat on the hearth, shook the snow off his coat and hung up his hat. As he unwrapped the meat, he said, "Hank, there's some mice making a home in our meat. One of 'em ran along the snowbank and ran all the way up on the roof o' the lean-to without fallin' in the snow. I wonder if'n a man could do such a thing?"

"Ned, you're stupid. You idiot!" Cecil said with a mouth full of beans.

"Well at least my name ain't Cecil!" Ned grinned. Cecil reached for his Colt .45.

"Cecil, put yer gun away and shut yer mouth. You're just as stupid as yer stupid brother!" Hank said trying to keep order. "Now we gotta start plannin' how we're gonna get to that safe in the bank in Medicine Lodge. Now, when I got to Medicine today, it was snowin' and blowin' so hard nobody even looked at me, so I rode on past the bank and took a good look. They put bars on all the windows. We're gonna have to git some dynamite to get inside." Ned put the venison in a frying pan and hung it over the fire while Hank explained his plans to him and Cecil.

The next morning the storm had broke and the sun was breaking through the clouds. There was another 6 inches of snow on top of the earlier snow. Hank went out and fed the horses in the lean-to while Ned cooked some oats for breakfast. Cecil took a broom out and cleared the snow off the front of the cabin door and made a path to check the venison for mice.

"We better go cut some firewood. We're getting low," Cecil said to Hank.

Hank hauled in an armload of firewood and followed Cecil back into the cabin. While the breakfast cooked, Hank and Cecil sharpened their axes on the grindstone wheel in the lean-to. Back inside, they ate their oats for breakfast, had some coffee, and saddled up the horses to go look for firewood. They rode out of the canyon and towards a stand of elm trees where they got lots of their logs for the cabin. They looked for dead trees that would be dry enough to burn. Hank picked out some dead elms, and the three brothers got to work cutting the trees down with their axes. They drug the trunks back to the hideout and then started cutting them into smaller pieces.

A week later, after several days of firewood cutting, Hank spoke up. "I got an idea. When I went through Medicine it was snowin' and blowin' so hard nobody paid no attention to me. I rode right down Main Street in front of the bank and nobody bothered even lookin' at me. So the next time a storm comes up, we're gonna hit the bank of Medicine Lodge."

The next morning, it clouded up, and the wind started blowing. The brothers loaded their rifles and six guns, saddled up the horses, and put several sticks of dynamite in each saddle bag. When Hank saw the first snowflake coming down, they rode out of the canyon and headed for Medicine Lodge.

The snow was getting heavier and heavier and they could only see about 10 or 15 feet in front. Suddenly a clap of thunder shook everything and the horses spooked. A bolt of lighting flashed but they couldn't see where it was because the snow was so heavy. "I ain't never seen no thunder and lightin' in a snowstorm, Hank," Cecil said. "And it's gettin' mighty cold. I cain't feel my toes anymore. I don't know if'n I can move my fingers to pull the trigger on my gun."

"Me too," Hank said. "I'm thinkin' maybe we better turn back. This is one hell of a storm."

"I got me an idea, Hank. Was there bars on the upstairs windows of that there bank?" Ned asked Hank.

"Naw, I never even noticed. But it's too dam cold for bank robbin'. We're turnin' back before we freeze to death." Hank nodded to Cecil and Ned.

"You guys go on back. I got myself an idea," Ned told the others.

It took several hours to make his way through the snow and fighting the wind, until Ned reached town.

Sure enough, just like Hank said, the people didn't even pay any attention to Ned. There were just a few people on the streets, all bundled up, holding their hats so the wind wouldn't blow them away. As Ned came around the corner of Kansas Avenue onto Main Street, he saw the banker, Henry Bartlesville, lock the door to the bank and head off to the north. "I'll bet he's goin' home to wait this storm out," Ned thought to himself. "And there ain't nobody on Main Street now. I got that bank and that safe and all that money all to myself. Hank'll make me split it 3 ways but what the hell, it's easy money anyhow."

Ned used the reins to lead his horse to the alley running behind the bank. In between the blasts of wind and snow he couldn't see any people but he could just barely make out the buildings. Between two buildings he could see a narrow passageway going to a door, and the passageway blocked the wind and snow. He dismounted and led his horse into the passageway to keep her safe while he did his job. He looked in the window of that door and couldn't see any lights or movement and figured everybody went home to ride out the storm. "About 3 buildings down the alley oughtta be that bank," he thought as he stuck his foot into a snowdrift. That snowdrift was a couple of feet high and he sunk in to his knees. Just then a blast of wind came up and blew him back on the seat of his pants. The snowdrift held his legs in place so he was just laid back in the snow. "Dam that wind! I can't feel my toes anymore either. I gotta get my money and git outta here!" he thought. He stuck his hands behind his back and pushed himself up on his feet and started making his way down the alley.

"Hot dam!" Ned said as he saw a big snowdrift leading up to the second floor of the bank. "I couldn't of asked for a better situation," he thought as he put his foot onto the snowdrift. This time it held. He put his weight on it, and it held him up. He could see some sand and dirt that turned the snow brown, and realized that this was old snow that was crusted over. "Hot dam!" he said again, grinning. He put his other foot ahead and carefully put his weight on the snowdrift, and it held. Then a gust of wind came up and blew him down on the ground. "Dammit," he yelled out, but nobody heard him through the wind. "I gotta make this work. I can just see that money now." On his second try, he put his knees on the snowdrift and bent over to put his hands down to. He carefully crawled a foot up the snowdrift, huddling close so the snow wouldn't blow him over again. This time it worked. He moved his hands and feet up a step, made sure the snow felt solid, and slowly put his weight on the snowdrift. Then he did it again, taking another step up the snowdrift. Very slowly, he made his way up that snowdrift. At the top of the snowdrift, he could see the balcony for the second floor of the bank, and he knew there would be windows where he could break right into the bank. He went on ahead and took another careful step up the snowdrift.

Back at the hideout, Hank and Cecil put the horses up in the lean-to and hurried inside. Cecil stoked the fire and threw on some more logs. Hank shook off the snow and hung his coat and hat up.

"You think Ned'll find a way to climb up a snowdrift and break into the bank?" Cecil said.

"I don't know. It's just too dam cold out now for that. If he does then it'll be some perty easy money. I'll just let him have it all instead of makin' 'im split it with us. He better git back here before it gets too dark," Hank said.

The storm raged on for another day. Ned never did show up back at the hideout. Two days after Hank and Cecil left Ned and returned to the hideout, they saddled up.

"We better go scout around. Maybe he lost his way in the storm. He knows these parts perty good and coulda made a shelter against a canyon wall or in some trees," Hank said.

"Remember that place along the canyon wall where the snow was drifting real deep? He probly hollowed out a hole in the snowdrift like a igloo! He used to do stupid stuff like that," Cecil said.

The two brothers spent all day searching but didn't find their other brother.

It was February and finally the snows of the harsh Winter were melting off. Underneath the grass was turning green. The banker walked up on the plank sidewalk to the door of the bank. "Morning, Mrs. Stanton," he yelled out to a lady passing by. He stuck the key in the lock and opened the door for the day's banking. A minute later, the teller came in. "Morning, William. Better grab some firewood and warm it up in here."

"Sure thing," the teller said. The teller hung his hat and coat on a hook and walked through the bank to the back. He fidgeted with the lock, opened the door and trudged through what was left of a huge snowdrift. It was still about 3 feet deep at the top even though it had been melting for a month. He smelled something rotten. "Mr. Bartlesville, I think we got a dead mouse or something in the firewood. It really smells bad out here," he yelled back in through the door. As he bent over to pick up a log, he saw something red sticking out of the other side of the snowdrift. He put down the firewood and with a stick he poked the red material.

"Mr. Bartlesville, it's a man, buried in the snow! You better call the doctor!" the teller yelled. The banker came running. He took the stick from the teller's hand and started prodding in the snow.

"Dam, it's a man. He's half frozen and half rotten!" the banker yelled. The two men looked at each other, and realized that the man had frozen in the storm and was rotting as the snow melted. They vomited.