Speakin' of wimmen on hunting trips. I once took a group of "Hollywood folks" antelope huntin' on the ranch.

Spotted some goats a couple of miles away headin' north. We drove to a hill point where I thought the critters might pass in time. When we arrived, we got out and crawled up a little pass to where I thought they might get some shootin'.

Well, we met those antelope head on. Those goats went right between us and those clowns opened fire at less than 25 yards.

I hit the deck to avoid the cross-fire. When the ruckus was over they had knocked down three head within 50 yards of us.

They started dressing out their game. I noticed another one down about 150 yards away. I said I would go see what was what. Well this fine lookin' blonde that "belonged" to one of those fellers that claimed he was a director or something, tagged along with me.

The goat was dead, so I started dressing it out.. The blonde said "My it's hot out here!" I din't pay no attention I was busy with blood and guts.

When I paused for a moment, I discovered the "starlet" had ditched her blouse and bra.

Now this might seem like a neat deal, but when you're 18 years old and your sittin' out there on the prairie next to some feller's gal and she is topless and he is settin 150 yards away with a scoped rifle, the "pucker factor" plumb ruins the moment.

I durn near cut my thumb off tryin' whilst carefully not lookin' at anything but the goat I was workin' on. I finished the job and said we needed to get back over there to help those fellers with their goats.

She finally put her stuff away and we went back to where they was still butcherin', and never a word was said.

I din't quite calm down until them folks was loaded up and gone.

Now I kinda wish I had paid a wee bit more attention to what was going on around me. I do remember that the panorama out there on the Wyoming prairie sure was spectacular that day.