A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty high old silver, the Lone Ranger. His faithful Indian companion, Tonto, the daring and resourceful masked rider of the plains, led the fight for law and order in the early western United States. Nowhere in the pages of history can one find a greater champion of justice. Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear. From out of the past come the thundering hoof beats of a great horse, Silver. The Lone Ranger rides again. The nephew of the Lone Ranger had ridden a few miles from camp and reined up on the side of a hill overlooking a vast expanse of cultivated valley. Green stalks of tasseled corn, taller than any man, nearly covered the floor of the valley. But the 14-year-old boy found his attention riveted on the Indians whose hogans occupied a clearing. Dan watched while the red men chanted and danced. Then he leaped to the back of his horse, Victor. Come on, Victor! Dan urged his horse to topmost speed along the hillside until he came to the camp of his friends, the Lone Ranger and Tonto, near a small waterfall. Oh, oh, Victor! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh! Oh, steady, boy! Dan, what's the matter? You ride too hard. We stopped here for a few days to rest the horses, Dan. You took Victor out for a little hard exercise, but that doesn't fall for you. Oh, but I had to ride hard. Golly, wait until you're here. There's an Indian village north of here. And that village of Chief White Eagle. Well, the Indians are on the war path. The war path? Yes. It looks to me as if they're ready to sweep right down this valley. They'll overrun that farmhouse down below. I'm sure you're mistaken, Dan. White Eagle and his people aren't warlike. But they're going through a ceremony, a ritual of some kind. If you listen real close, you might be able to hear them. Did you hear that? That not war dance, Dan. Well, what is it? That green corn dance. Indian give tribute to Mother Corn. Mother Corn? Look at that valley, Dan. Aside from Caleb Barton's wheat field, the whole valley is up in corn. Yes. The Indians consider corn as a gift to their gods. Oh, golly. Some of them speak of growing corn in the field as if it were a living presence. Corn, plenty important to Indians. I suppose it is. I'd never thought about it. It's their staple product. When the corn is good, nothing else matters to the Indian. All Indian women bake bread, use corn instead of wheat flour. They use corn in more different ways than we can count. The crop in that valley, Dan, represents a great accomplishment in the West. Caleb Barton showed the Indians how to grow corn. He did? Well, golly, that's funny. Tano told me that when the Pilgrims came to this country, they learned about corn from the Indians. Oh, the Indians knew about corn before the white settlers, but they never had crops like you see in that valley until Caleb moved in. Oh, valley looked plenty different last year this time. Well, how's that, Tano? Well, maybe mask friend tells a story. Oh, golly, will you? This year, the corn near the Indian settlement is just as good as Caleb Barton's. But last year, Dan, it was very different. The difference nearly caused war. Oh, golly. Well, tell me about it, sir. Well, Caleb Barton came here a little over a year ago. He built a small house in the valley. Then he turned over the soil and put in a corn crop. Right where it is now? Yes. And it looked just about as you see it. But last year, Caleb had a buckwheat field north of the corn crop. Yes? The Indians had planted their corn north of the wheat field. And Tano saw it. He thought there might be trouble. But why? Well, Caleb Barton's corn looked fine. But the Indians were stunted and thin. Oh. You see, Dan, corn means everything to Indians. The germination and planting of the seed. The growth of the stalk. The formation of the silk and the tassels. Yes, even the dependence on sun and rain are all symbolized by sacred songs and ceremonies. Tano thought the Indians might be jealous of the white man's better crop. So we decided to ride into the valley and investigate. We reached a point about halfway between Barton's house and the homes of other settlers to the south. And the Indian village to the north. Stop right here, Tano. Oh, sir. Oh, sir. Oh, sir. Oh, fella. Why don't we stop here? You know Chief White Eagle, don't you? Uh-huh. Me know him. And him good Indian. Him good planter. It might be better if you call on him without me. Well, me do whatever you say. All right. Go alone and see White Eagle. Find out if he's angry with the white men. Ah. Meanwhile, I'll go south to Keela Barton's house. You know him? Oh, but I got acquainted. I'll find out if any Indians have called on him. And if so, how they've behaved. All right, Tano. Get him up, scowl. Come on, Silver. You know how it is, Dan. People think I'm an outlaw when they see my mask. Barton was no exception. Took quite a while to win his confidence. I'll bet it did. He finally realized that I meant no harm. And he was quite friendly. While we were talking, his wife came up to the porch. She stopped at the screen door and stared at me. Keela assured her that I was a friend. The mask man came here to find out about Indians, Mary. And I'd like to find out about one in particular. Look out there, Caleb. Toward the corn. There's a strange-looking redskin nosing around there. I'll have a look. I'll go with you, Caleb. I've been going from one corn stalk to another, breaking off a few tassels here and there. He's still there. Yeah, sure enough. Seems like a mighty old Indian. He is. You know him? It's the medicine man from White Eagle's tribe. The medicine man, huh? His name is Egoa. What's he doing here? It's hard to tell. Is that your wheat crop off to the north? Yep. But the redskins don't seem to be interested in wheat. Yeah, they're ready for harvest, aren't you? That's right. It's a mighty fine stand of buckwheat, too. Why is it the redskins are interested in our corn and not in the wheat? Corn is very special. To the Indians, it's life and death. It's a matter to me, then, they don't learn more about raising it. If they wasn't so lazy, they could have just as good a stand as I got. Trouble is, they don't prepare the soil. They just go along with a pointed stick, poke a hole, and drop in a couple of seeds. Can't get a good crop that way. You've got to prepare the soil. Plow her up, kick it around, get the weeds out, and keep it well turned to get a good stand of corn. I hope you're not going to have trouble. You think I will have? I don't know, Caleb. Well, what can we do to avoid it? I'm going to see what can be done to avoid it. In the meantime, Caleb, you better call on the other white men in the valley and have them ready to meet, whatever may come. When I left Caleb, I returned to our camp here on the hillside. Meanwhile, Toto was in White Eagle's village. You were there when Igor returned from Caleb Barton's field, weren't you, Toto? Ah, that's right. Indian village makes ceremonials to gods. Ask them for better sun, better rain to make corn grow tall. White Eagle complained about Egoa. Maybe Egoa magic is no longer good. White Eagle. Maybe white man magic better. White man used different tools to grow corn. Egoa, come here now. Gee, White Eagle. Oh, Egoa. Oh. You come from tall cornfield? That's right. Egoa there. Egoa there. Egoa there. Egoa there. Egoa. White man crop. Bad medicine. Indian corn. Good medicine. Why white man corn? Bad medicine. White man break up ground. White man interfere with work of sun and rain. This made gods angry. Egoa, you not speak truth. Golden tassel of corn speak to Egoa. Message of corn say, God's angry at white man. You, great chief, you see. Perhaps golden tassel of corn tell you white man way of planting is better than way of Indian. No. Mother can't tell Egoa how to plant. Egoa tell you. Indian way best. No, come it all. So the song. Make it all so suitable. So the song. White Eagle was angry with Egoa. He thought the old medicine man was a fake and told him so. He blamed Egoa for the poor crop because he had followed Egoa's planting instructions. Oh, that must have made Egoa pretty mad. It did. He said the gods had told him that Barton's corn would never be harvested. That the gods were angry with Barton and they would destroy his crop. Oh, golly. When Tonto brought word that Egoa had promised that the crop would be destroyed by fire or flood, by the god of the sun or the rain, we thought we'd better keep an eye on things. Me know Egoa. Him plenty smart. Him smart like fox. Tonto expected Egoa to do something to hurt the white man. And did he? Yes, he certainly did. It came in the middle of the night. Tonto and I were both asleep in our camp. It was Silver who wakened us. He went in and poured the ground. Tonto and I were wide awake in an instant. What's the matter, Silver? Steady boy. What matters, Silver? I don't know, Tonto. Tonto, he doesn't act this way. If he tries to warn us of someone's approach, he would be... Tonto, I smell smoke. That's right. Something's burning. We'd better look around. Sit down there in Valley. Barton's wheat. And that's what's burning. And how it catch fire. I don't know. Saddle up right away. Here, Scott. Here, fella. That wheat is brown and dry. It'll burn fast. Maybe medicine has to start fire. That'll be hard to prove. Steady there, Silver. And what we do? We've got to help Barton fight that fire. You'll need all the help you can get. Are you ready to ride? Be ready now. Steady big fella. Come on, then. Get up, Scott. Save the house. Bring out to it. We reached Caleb's ranch. A number of neighbors had already arrived. The wheat field was doomed, so we concentrated on trying to hold the fire in check to keep it from spreading to the house. Fire's coming closer. Pass more water to the roof. Get water up here. Get me more water. The sparks are landing on the roof faster than I can put them out. Hurry up. Fire's starting on the roof. The house once started, burned like kindling wood. Tons of flame leaped up from the roof in half a dozen places at the same time. Get down, Caleb. Get down from there. You've done all you can. Caleb got to the ground. For the next few minutes, it was a mad race to salvage as much of the furniture as possible. Don't try to go in there again. Don't go into that house. The roof is due to fall in any minute. She's right, boys. Stay back. Stay back from that place. Well, she's done for. Corn is all that's left for Caleb. Come on. We've got to save that. You can try it. Come on, boys. Let's go to that corn. Let's save what you said. Caleb. Caleb, there goes the roof. Caleb, that's the end. It's the end of everything. Our wheat is gone. Our home is gone. We're through. The West we counted on so much has double-crossed us. The curtain falls on the first act of our Lone Ranger story. Before the next exciting scenes, please permit us to pause for just a few moments. Now to continue our story. At a hillside camp overlooking the homestead of Caleb Barton, surrounded by tasseled corn that spread as far as the eye could see in a fertile valley, the Lone Ranger was telling Dan Reed, his nephew, about the fire in that valley a year ago. You said Caleb Barton was just about wiped out. He thought he was, Dan. His buckwheat crop and his house were completely destroyed by the fire. Well, the neighbors stayed around until daybreak. Many of them offered their homes to Caleb and his wife. The brave couple wanted to stay near their crop of corn. Were you in town all there? We left a little while before daybreak. It was daylight when we returned. Caleb and his wife had fashioned a tent for shelter. Barton made a brave attempt to smile and waved his hand warily. You rode away before I could thank you for all the help you gave us last night. I'm afraid we didn't accomplish much. We saved our corn. If you and those others hadn't cut a path, the fire would maybe have spread to the corn. I doubt it, Caleb. The corn was too green to burn. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. We're through. There's nothing left for us but to go back east. If I could only figure out what started that fire. We know what started fire. It's bad Indian. An Indian? Is that right? We're quite sure it was a medicine man named Egoa. Oh. The man you saw examining the tassels on the corn. See, Chief White Eagle is unhappy because your corn is better than the Indians. That's why they said fire to my crop. White Eagle and his men had nothing to do with the fire. Egoa started it to save his reputation. He told White Eagle that the gods had whispered to him that you would never harvest your crop. White Eagle will be angrier than ever if he knows Egoa started the fire. But it was the buckwheat he said on fire, not the corn. The wheat was dry. The corn wasn't. Now, unless we expose him, the corn may burn later. We can't fight anymore. We're licked. Those awful scheming savages. Oh, please, Mrs. Barton, don't blame all the Indians for what Egoa has done. White Eagle is a good Indian and a fine leader. Indeed. If he knew that Egoa had set fire to your crop, he'd do everything he could to make amends. He wants peace with the white people. He asks for nothing but peace. Good hunting and a good stand of corn. I hope to show White Eagle the truth. But how can you do that? I want you to bring your nearest neighbors, some of the men who helped fight the fire last night. Why, I can do that. But I don't see how it'll help. You will see. We're going to let the tassels of the corn point out the man who started the fire. This afternoon? Yes, Caleb. I'll get Jim and Hank and some of the others here. Get them as early this afternoon as possible. But what'll I do when they get here? What are you going to do? You and I are going to put on an act for the benefit of the superstitious Indians. Now, here's what we're going to do. What did you mean when you said the tassels on the corn would point out the man who started the fire? I had a plan in mind, Dan. A plan that I hoped would reveal Egoa for just what he was. A scheming faker who would stop at nothing to maintain his position of power in White Eagle's village. What did you do? Tonto and I told White Eagle our suspicions. First, he wouldn't believe us. Then Tonto told him that he and all his people were suspected by the white men. He looked troubled. He knew that suspicions of this sort could easily lead to war. He finally agreed to go to the scene of the fire and take Egoa and a dozen hunters. When we got back to Caleb's place, we found that Caleb had done his part, too. There were a number of men from the nearby farm seated around a campfire. Mary Barton looked angry. Hatred for the Indians showed in her face, but she said nothing. Caleb, who is this smash man anyhow? What's his interest in this business? I don't know, boys. But after the way he and his Indian friend helped us last night, I consider him a friend. Thanks for that, Caleb. I hope before the day is over, you'll look upon White Eagle in the same way. I doubt that. You think people of White Eagle make fire? I don't know who else would want to destroy my crops. It looks to me like you redskins hankered to drive us out of here before we can harvest our crops. It would be mighty nice for you if we'd clear out and leave everything ready to ripen and harvest. Indian, not want white men driven out. Indian, want white men stay in valley. Maybe teach Indian how to win favor of gods. Teach Indian how to grow tall corn. White Eagle, please tell your braves to sit down on the ground. Come on, come on. You sit right here. Eagle? What you want? You sit here next to your chief. You not tell Eagle where I sit. Eagle, you do what tall men say. Thank you, Chief White Eagle. Eagle, you've been a medicine man for a good many years. That right. You've told Chief White Eagle that the earth, the mother corn, the winds and rains had messages for you. Is that right? That's right. You said the white man's crop of corn was bad. That the white man made the gods angry. And that the gods would punish the white man. That's what Eagle will say. Did the tassels of the corn tell you these things? Can't you answer me? Answer, Eagle. Tassels of corn speak truth. You're right, Eagle. The tassels of the corn do speak the truth. And they're going to speak the truth again. Otto, go to the corn and bring back many tassels. Ah. Eagle. What he aimed to do, mister? Now, Mary, you let the masked man handle things. It's your turn to speak, Caleb. All right. I'm to talk up just like you said. Is that it? Yes, Caleb. Well, gents, I'll tell you why I wanted you to come here to this meeting. We aim to find out who set fire to my wheat. Who's to blame for the burning of my house? You don't think it could have been an accident, do you, Caleb? No, sir. It was no accident. That fire was set on purpose. You just heard the Indian medicine man say that he got messages from the tassels of the corn, didn't you? That's right. I reckon that should be proof enough that there's a plenty of magic in corn. It's a kind of magic that the masked man can handle. He's going to make use of it right now to find out who started the fire. Now, look here, Caleb. If you suspect any of us... That's right, Caleb. We singed our whiskers helping you fight the fire. That's right. You had no call to bring us here for a showdown like this. Now, now, take it easy, gents. I haven't made accusations against anyone. I'm just asking you to go along with me and the masked man and see what turns up. No one would set fire to your buckwheat without having a good reason. Now, what reason could anyone have for it? Don't you think it could have been an accident? Maybe a spark from the chimney or something? It might be. Then again, it might not be. Here comes Tonto with the corn tassels. We can make the test now. Let me have them, Tonto. We get plenty tassels. More than we need, but it's all right. I am going to put all these tassels into a hat and pass it around. Here. You can borrow my hat. Thanks, Caleb. There we are. You take the first tassel, Caleb. Reach into the hat. Uh, just one? That's all. I got it. Mrs. Barton, will you please take a tassel? Why, sakes alive, you don't think I set fire to the wheat? No, I'm sure you didn't. Neither did Caleb. But we must all take part in this test. All right. I've got a tassel. White Eagle, will you pass his hat among your people? No, no, no. Me take him. White Eagle passed the hat to each of the Indians, and each in turn took one tassel. Several of them showed signs of apprehension. Egoa was visibly nervous. His hand trembled as he reached into Caleb's hat, drew out his closed fist, and held it in his lap. Then the hat was passed to the settlers, and everyone took a golden tassel of corn. I reckon this is a kind of magic that's sort of new to you, isn't it, Egoa? Uh, it's not good medicine. I think you'll find that you're mistaken, Egoa. Has everyone a tassel of corn? Mother Corn knows who is evil. Mother Corn will point out the one who started fire. Each one of you has taken a tassel from the hat. These tassels are of different lengths. Some are long, and some are short. There was one that was longer than all the others. He who holds the longest golden tassel, the longest golden hair from the head of Mother Corn, is the one who started fire. The gods will make it so. White Eagle, will you examine the golden tassels your people hold in their hands? Uh, me look. Come on. Now look, Mary. Each of the redskins is holding up the tassels. You don't look a little worried, if you ask me. All but Egoa. Look at the grin on his ugly face. Chief White Eagle. When I spoke a moment ago, I should have said more. The evil one who started fire would try to hide his guilt by making sure the tassel he held would not be longer than the others. He would show his guilt by breaking off part of the tassel. Look, then, White Eagle, for he who holds the shortest tassel... You trick Egoa! That's right. He's got a knife, Mr. Nixon. You drop knife. Drop it. Enough. Stop. Egoa, you bad. You destroy crops. You burn house. Chief White Eagle. Me, old man. Egoa, plead for mercy. Egoa, listen to bad spirits. Make prisoner of Egoa. He returns to village for punishment. Don't go on. You sure showed him up for what he was. Take Egoa away. Me, sorry, Indian make trouble. Me, pay great debt. People of White Eagle Village build new house. Help plant new crops. Gosh, that's pretty square. That's more than I'd have expected from a redskin. May I speak for you, Caleb? You sure can, mister. You've done all right so far. White Eagle, if you'll help these people build a new house, they'll show you the white man's way of planting corn so the gods will be pleased. And in another harvest, you too will have good crops. You'll do that? You'll bet we will. Won't we, boys? Yes, sir. We'll show you how to turn over soil and bust up clouds and plant a corn crop. Why, Dad ratted with the soil you got here in this valley. We can make the Kansas Territory grow the tallest corn in this here country. Can we, boys? I can. That's right. There it is, Dan. That's the corn crop down in that valley. Steady there, Silver. Golly, it sure looks as if the Indians and white people have been at peace since last year. Where are you going now, Kemosabe? Steady, big fella. Easy. Not a turtle. You too, Dan. Steady. We'll visit White Eagle and watch his harvest dance. Come on, sir. Come on, Victor. The story you have just heard is a copyrighted feature of the Lone Ranger Incorporated.
