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Testamony of an Indian Guide

Some years ago I was talking to an Indian guide that had got lost on the desert. His name was Tim Coy, very well-known guide. And he got lost out on the desert in the Arizona's, and he couldn't find his way back. And his horse...

If you was ever lost... I've been lost. The nose becomes raw and bleeds where the sand boiling up. Your tongue becomes so thick you can't speak, your lips turn upside, inside out and crack all over. You go down the road and you look like you see water. When you get there it's not water. Tim said that he come down. He was a Christian man, a very renowned Christian man. He said, "I got off my horse; I prayed and I prayed for water." Said, "I'd lost my way and I couldn't find nowhere." Said, "After while I come up on a path where it looked like either buffalo or something had run."

And said, "My old horse, her name was Bess." And said, "She begin to nicker, and I got up on her, tried to ride again, and she was too weak to pack me." And said, "I'd walk a little piece following this..." Said, "I was told that sometimes them paths led to a water hole."

And said, "I started to ride her; she was too weak." And said, "Then I was all excited and trying to get down the path," and said, "The first thing you know, I--I found myself stumbling and falling. I was too weak. I was gone." Said, "I climbed back into the saddle again, started."

And said, "Over to my right, there was a little dim trail that led off to the right." Said, "My old horse Bess tried to take that trail." Said, "I said, 'Come out of there, Bess. You can't take that trail. This is the trail. It's wider. It's better. More of them went this a way. This goes to the water.'" And said, "She started nickering and trying to go the other way."

Said, "I had a pair of wheel spurs on. Before I knew it, I was just cutting her to pieces with these wheel spurs, trying to make her go down that broad path." And said, "Then she started; she stumbled and got to her knees." And said, "I jumped off of her, and I looked at her. She was standing there about ready to perish, looking down that little trail, and was nickering, and the blood running out of her sides where I'd cut her with those spurs..."

Said, "I stood there a little bit, and I thought, 'Oh, what will we do. We're no better off.'" Said, "I rubbed her on the face, and I said, 'Bess, I have often heard that animals had instinct and maybe the big wide path don't lead to the spring.'"

He said, "Bess, you carried me through this desert, and we've been buddies together. And you've carried me safely this far; I'll trust you the rest of the way."

She started down the trail. Said he hadn't went five hundred yards until he plunged into a great stream of water, set there enjoying the blessings of water. Said he jumped into the water, him and the horse both, throwing water over their head and screaming to the top of his voice. His life was spared. Said he took the old horse and washed its nose out and everything; just it was such a blessing. She had brought him safely to the water.

Said while he was enjoying this, getting refreshed, him and his horse, he heard someone speak. And he looked around, and there stood a man intoxicated. And he looked and there was some smoke come up. He said, "Who are you?"

And he said, "Come out of the water." And he come out. Took him over to the camp, they had some venison cooked. And he said, "I'm Tim Coy, the Indian guide. I've been lost for several days out here, and my horse just led me to the water."

He eat the venison, enjoyed it. They were all drunk, four of them. Well, they said, "We thought this was the fourth of July we were celebrating." Said, "We've been over here on the Sanabar Mountains. We struck a claim and we got gold here with us, plenty of it. We're going back to be rich men."

He said, "Celebrate with us, Tim. Get the jug, Shorty." And they got the jug of whiskey, pulled the stopper out, said, "Have a drink, Tim."

He said, "No, I don't drink, sir."

And he said, "Oh, you don't?"

He said, "Sir, I never took a drink in my life. Thank you for the venison, but I'll be going on." And said, "It's not the fourth of July anyhow."

And he said, "You mean you never drink?"

He said, "I never drank in my life."

He said, "What do you say, boys? Let's make this Indian guide take his first drink with us.

So one fellow, little crooked legged cowboy, picks up a thirty- thirty rifle and jacks a shell into it, took the jug in his hand; he said, "Tim, if our venison's good enough to eat, then our whiskey is good enough to drink." He said, "You either take a drink of whiskey, or take what poison we got at the end of this thirty-thirty."

. Tim said, "Boys, I don't want your whiskey, but before you pull the trigger let me tell you my story. "He said, "I hail from the bluegrass country of Kentucky." Said, "Many years ago in a little old log house," said, "a little bed laying in the corner of the house with fence rails made a bed and shucks for the mattress," said, "as the morning light creeped across the bare floor of a little cabin, a mother lay dying."

And said, "A little barefooted boy of only five years old toddled around in the house, the only person there when a godly Christian mother was going to meet her Maker."

And said, "My mother called me to the bed, put her arms around me, and said, 'Tim, God will send somebody here to you sooner or later. Mother's going home. And I want you to promise me something, Tim. Your father died with his boots on. He died a drunkard. And that's the reason we've been in poverty. But promise me, Tim, as your mother, that you'll never take a drink as long as you live.'"

And he said, "When the breath left her body, and I pulled my little baby hands from her clenched hands," said, "sirs, from that time to this, I've never tasted whiskey. But I've served the Lord with a pure heart." Said, "Now, if you want to shoot, just go ahead."

And about that time, a pistol roared, and when it did, the jug in the hand of the man bursted. Out of the canyon just behind, stepped a little fellow, well-scarred and beaten, tears running down his cheeks, both guns sticking out.

He said, "You don't know me, Tim, but I know you." Said, "None of you know me." Said, "There's a price on my head. I'm an outlaw." Said, "I followed you all the way from the Sanabar range, and watched you here with that gold. And I thought when you got drunk enough, instead of putting a bullet in you, I'd just go down and knock you everyone in the head and take the gold. I was waiting till you passed out drunk, but, Tim, I also come from the bluegrass country of Kentucky."

Said, "I promised a dying mother the same thing, but I'm sorry I broke the vow." But said, "I'm sure she heard my pistol as it echoed through the big canyons of heaven; I signed a pledge. From this hour I'll never take a drink, Tim." And with the group of outlaws and the prospectors together, converted that whole bunch of drunks to the Lord Jesus Christ.

As narrated by Rev. William Marrion Branham

The Cowboy's Meditation

Last night as I laid on the prairie,

I gazed to the stars in the sky;

And I wondered if ever a cowboy,

Could drift to that sweet by and by.

There's a road to that bright happy region;

But it's dim there, a trail, so they say,

But the broad one that leads to perdition,

Is posted and blazed all the way.

They speak of another great Owner,

And He's never over stocked, so they say.

He'll always make room for a sinner,

That'll drift on that straight narrow way.

They say He will never forsake you,

And He knows every action and look,

For safety we'd better get branded,

Have our name on His great tally Book.

For they say there will be a great roundup,

When cowboys like dogies will stand,

To be marked by the riders of judgment

That's posted and knows every brand.

Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to day, and for ever

Hebrews 13:8