BILLY STEELE: KID RANGER

THE AMAZING, ACTION PACKED ADVENTURES OF BILLY STEELE, KID RANGER

"The savages are ripe for the taking. Their gold will soon belong to us and they will have the honor of being our slaves when they mine it for our cause-- us," Captain Diablo slithered to his ugly, uniformed underlings.

He greedily watched the peaceful Native Americans from his safe vantage point hidden in the thick underbrush.

It is the vast, unspoiled, glorious American frontier of the early 1800s. But it has been invaded by an evil presence. The wicked Captain Diablo and his renegade troop of Mexican soldiers have deserted their duty to their country in order to make a pirated fortune from the legendary lost mine located on the land of a nature-worshipping Indian tribe.

"Many of the men have left," Diablo the snake-like Diablo sneered to his mongrel followers, "Now is the time to attack them."

Their sinisterly sleek uniforms were covered in the filth once they trespassed on sacred ground. The wicked Captain twirled his spiked beard over his razor thin lips as he plotted his attack upon the innocent tribe camped next to the pristine waters where the teenaged brave White Eagle and his noble tribe, have built their Utopia in the wilderness.

Sixteen-year old White Eagle, tall and muscular and adorned in glorious feathers of honor, saw to it that his snow-haired elderly mother and 12-year old, hazel-eyed young sister were safe before he followed his tree-tall father and the rest of the hunting party. In his nightmares, White Eagle envisioned an ominous cloud of doom engulfing his people and loved ones. His mothers need for fresh meat caused his momentary lapse in judgment. He ignored his instincts to stay behind and decided instead to join his fathers hunting party.

As White Eagle said farewell to his family, gunfire alarmed his ear. He suddenly turned in horror to witness Captain Diablo, and his army of merciless mercenaries, attack the tribe. The horrific horsemen stampeded onto the tribe as if they were the ravagers from Hell itself. They looted the tepees of the tribes golden sacred treasures and jewels of their culture before they turned the tents into a raging inferno.

The screams of the tribes women and children pierced the skies like the entire universe was on its death throes. The tribesman returned quickly from the hunt. And both young and old braves repelled the unprovoked invasion. But the braves bows, arrows, spears and tomahawks were devastated by the Mexican renegade soldiers barrage of firepower.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Tiny lead meteors from Diablos muskets, pistols and a humongous balls of cannon fire reduced the ten thousand year old civilization to inanimate mounds of human debris as the stench of gunpowder is creepily entwined with the unmistakable smell of rotting corpses.

The rifle butt of a crazed Mexican soldier brutally leveled the young White Eagle from behind, mere seconds before he drew his dagger in defense of his home and family. Upon regaining consciousness, the teen brave saw his mother and sister being dragged away by Captain Diablos chief aides. Albeit, his eyes were still fuzzy from the blow, White Eagle never the less heard the unmistakable sound of his mother and sisters screams as the devil himself lustfully satisfied his appetite.

"Go to the ancient one, go to the ancient one," was his mothers final words to White Eagle before she and her daughter were bound and enslaved by Diablos renegades to work the lost mine.