Mission Statement:
To endeavor to bring to all residents of the Five States the most current and important news from across the entire Five States region. Never yellow, the Five States Herald vows to serve only the people of the Five States, from New Austin to Lemoyne, free of charge now and forever.
Massive bug eradication in the Five States leads to the arrival of new bugs, as predicted
By Frederick Vannesse
New bugs that swarm so aggressively one can only see black have arrived in the Five States, filling the void left by the bugs that were recently exterminated. To their horror, many are finding that these new bugs are able to completely remove one from the Five States. How this is done is a mystery, but it is being reported by many Five States residents. Once removed from the Five States the bugs appear to block reentry. Persistent cowpokes have been able to get past the nuisances and back into the Five States, but only after several attempts. Others, including many aspiring naturalists, have given up trying to get into the Five States and returned to their self imposed exiles from the region. This comes at a bad time with the the country focused on expanded employment opportunities in the Five States and unable to ignore the fleeing population.
Another new type of bug that has many cowpokes frustrated is a foul little creature folks are calling the horse earwig. These bugs are small and barely noticeable until one needs to call their horse. “I whistled and whistled, louder and louder, but my horse just never came,” said Mark Deasey, “I had to go to my horse and I checked its ears only to find mounds of bugs in there!” The clump of horse earwig bugs is believed to block the horses ability to hear and as a result blocking their ability to respond to their owners whistle. Cleaning the horses ears has proven to be a disgusting endeavor for even the most traveled and hardened cowpokes. “I’ve kill dozens, no hundreds of men, but I hope to never have to clean bugs from a horses ears again!” said one man. Equine experts suggest stuffing the horses ears with cotton balls, or even better, securing a fly mask, to protect the horse when out.
Other types of bugs have been reported as well. Most troubling, perhaps, is that some of those bugs are the same that have been reported for several months. That means that the mass extermination that took place over the entire Five States region was not entirely successful. In fact, as many bugs evaded extinction and with new ones replacing the old ones, many have already begun calling this attempt to clean up the Five States a massive failure. Small groups are still traveling across the Five States and studying the effects of the extermination program, hoping to do a better job in the future.
Naturalists come together to tag multiple wild animals
By Alois Burditt
Several animals were tagged and catalogued in New Austin this week as part of a collective effort to understand the animals in the state. “Normally, we naturalists work alone or in small groups and get samples,” said one of the participants, “but the focus here was tagging the animals for long term observations. We want to see where they go and how long do they live. Will the tags end up in the belly of a predator, for instance.” During the course of the event the naturalists came across several groups of poachers, who in a short time have come to have a reputation as some of the deadliest folks in the Five States. “Most lawmen and outlaws miss a lot, you know?” said one naturalist. “Revenue agents are pretty accurate but these poachers? They are something else.” Many echoed the sentiment, though some think poachers have just been taken lightly.
The mass animal tagging event was not disrupted by the poachers. Though two of the participating naturalists were killed the rest were able to gather a great deal of information. Harriet Davenport, who collects this information, expressed regret concerning the deaths. However, Miss Davenport followed up with elation over the number of samples that were brought in. “That woman definitely has strange priorities,” said one man, “I mean the loss of human life barely moves her but she once scolded me for running over a squirrel.”
Do you explore every nook and cranny in the Five States? Good with a typewriter and a camera? You might have what it takes to write for the Five States Herald.
Apply today!
Write about what most interests you and have your work read by hundreds of Five States residents!
Poachers massacred
By Jane Duran
A group of poachers set up in Ambarino were all killed. The shooting was heard in nearby Valentine. There were no witnesses. However, a few folks rode out to the area to find everyone at the camp dead, along with several open animal cages. “It was obvious it was a poacher camp,” said a Valentine deputy who rode with the posse to investigate. Akanowa, the famed Chickasaw tracker, arrived in Valentine while the posse was still out on the investigation. She took credit for the attack. She said she was not opposed to hunting, but that she would not tolerate poachers who are wasteful and disrespectful to the animals they hunt. When asked if he planned to arrest Akanowa given that she admitted to massacring the poachers, Sheriff Malloy said, “poachers know the risks, right? And Ambarino ain’t my jurisdiction anyway.”
Man saved from pack of wolves
By Caylen V. Hornby
The man was riding through Ambarino when he was beset upon by a pack of wolves. He tried fleeing but his horse had other plans, bucking him to the ground and leaving him to be devoured. Fortunately for this Strawberry resident, Joel Yellowknife was in the area. Mr. Yellowknife is a half-Indian tracker and bounty hunter not seen this far east for a number of years. Little is known about Mr. Yellowknife, other than being linked to the Black Elk tribe through his mother and that his father was a hunter. After saving the man, Mr. Yellowknife offered him a ride home seeing as the poor man’s horse was long gone. While I was unable to speak to Mr. Yellowknife personally, the rescued man said that Mr. Yellowknife was on his way to Lake Isabella to search for a rare bison said to be white in color. “Don’t know that such a thing exists,” said the man, “but I’m glad that Joel was looking for it, cuz if he wasn’t, I’d be dead.” .
Disaster averted when stranger stops a runaway wagon
By Nick McCrary
Long distance wagon rides can take their toll on the driver, often requiring a stop so the driver can stretch their legs. Such a stop is normally, as one may expect, uneventful and not at all newsworthy. However, one such driver took a stretch break just east of Quaker’s Cove when the horses pulling the wagon were spooked. The horses ran forward with the carriage in tow while the passenger screamed from inside. For some, this situation may seem comical. However, a runaway wagon can lead to injury and death. Fortunately, a well meaning cowpoke intervened.
“Well, I just couldn’t let someone get hurt or killed when I could stop it,” the cowpoke said. When asked for their name, they smiled and tipped their hat, “I’m just trying to do the right thing like anyone else, my name isn’t of great importance.” Before any other questions were asked, they rode off. The carriage driver apologized profusely to their employer, who paid the stranger ten dollars for their heroics.
Naturalist furious over animal death that was “not their fault”
By Daisy Fairman
An altercation broke out northwest of Wallace Station, when a naturalist denied being responsibility for the death of a deer. “I put the damn thing to sleep! I have the damn sample!” a witness heard someone shout. The shouting was directed at Harriet Davenport, who accused the naturalist of being a murderer. The witness said the naturalist explained the situation as an accident, the deer had fallen asleep on the train tracks and they had no animal reviver on their person. Miss Davenport insisted that the death was his fault, “you may not have driven that train over that poor, majestic creature, but it was only there because of you!” Miss Davenport said. To which, the angry naturalist responded, “And I was only putting it to sleep because of you!” before storming off.
Elephant Gun Proves Dangerous to Users
By Sofia Kathleen Fairfax (Lead Correspondent)
Fairly recently, the Five States were introduced to the elephant gun. As the name suggests, it’s a massive hunting rifle used mostly to kill elephants down in Africa. Last we checked elephants hadn’t invaded New Hanover, so the use of such a weapon has puzzled some. The common assumption is that these high-powered rifles are to be used against bears or any aggressive animal while hunting. Not to preserve the pelt, but with the expressed intent to obliterate the animal.
It should come to no surprise that this gun has led to a rise in hunting-related accidents. Many do not understand how powerful the weapon is and thus suffer the consequences.
One cowpoke tried to fire at a bear while hidden in the bushes. The gun kicked so hard he missed the shot, fell on his back, and was eaten by the bear.
One hunter tried to shoot at a moose, but the kickback was so strong he fell face forward and landed on the trigger. He managed to blow a hole in his stomach so large that he looked more like someone hit by a train. It took hours for the local doctor to even figure out he had been shot.
Finally, one cowpoke lost his balance after firing an elephant gun, and fell off the cliffs near Valentine, remarkably surviving but losing all feeling in his right arm.
This was just three hunting accidents this week, while the gun is undoubtedly popular, most hunters do not fundamentally understand how to use it. It would be in the manufacturer’s best interest, if they started to sell manuals with every purchase, in hopes that the user doesn’t make a fatal mistake.
New job arrives, but have many gone away?
By Van R. Seldon
While funding for aspiring naturalists was met warmly by many, some have suggested that a nefarious plot exists. “Look, I ain’t much for studying animals, I’m a gunfighter,” said Letty Fritz. She continued, “I put my skills to work by taking jobs from folks across the Five States. Always someone who needs something doing, until now.” What Fritz is talking about is the sudden lack of jobs being offered by these strangers across the Five States. She is not alone in this observation, as many have reported attempting to get work from folks they have worked for in the past, only to be told they have nothing for them. “Angus, the man who sells train tickets, usually offers odd jobs travelers tell him about,” said Abner Pauley. “But last few times I visited the man, he said he had nothing for me.” Many of those cowpokes who are suddenly without a steady way of earning an income have cried foul and accused the BHTC and Congress of corruption.
“I’m quite sure they a pressuring strangers who offer jobs to stop offering jobs,” said a cowpoke who wished to remain anonymous. “They want to force folks to take the jobs they are funding or have no way to make money at all.” A spokesman for the BHTC dismissed these concerns. “We have received several complaints about bounty hunters not being paid, if we were forcing folks into BHTC funded jobs, would we fuck up and not fund bounty hunters?” The spokesman’s language surprised many, but revealed a growing frustration behind the scenes at the BHTC as they struggle to keep the Five States moving forward among their other priorities. Adding to the frustration is the BHTC’s apparent attempts to increase the number of cowpokes taking odd jobs from strangers across the Five States, as they have begun adding bonus gold nugget payments to cowpokes willing to take on such jobs. Unfortunately, many who would like to take advantage of those bonuses are unable to do so at this time because there are no jobs to offer. All of the so called strangers offering odd jobs to cowpokes I spoke to denied being pressured to not hire folks.
Grave-robbers ran out of Valentine
By Emery Cosberry
A quiet Valentine night was broken when grave robbers were spotted at the Valentine Church cemetery. A resident had just left Smithsfield’s Saloon when they spotted a light by the church. “Well, I got closer and saw two fellers, one holding a lantern and the other with a shovel,” the witness said. Sheriff Malloy was still on duty when the witness walked into the his office and informed of the grave-robbers. “I was hoping for a boring, quiet night,” said Sheriff Malloy, “we don’t get enough of those in Valentine. But this feller walks in and tells me folks are digging up graves, so we ran them out of town.” One of the grave-robbers spotted Sheriff Malloy and a couple of deputies coming out of the Sheriff Office and they fled. Being interrupted, the grave-robbers were unsuccessful in prying open any graves.
Bounty Arrest Gone Wrong in Rhodes
By Sofia Kathleen Fairfax (Lead Correspondent)
At around nine in the morning on Tuesday, a Scotsmen named Joseph Kinloss entered the Rhodes Parlour House. He walked over to a booth near the front door and sat across from a woman eating her breakfast. Several witnesses in the saloon reported what happened next.
Kinloss started looking at the woman intently; she was wearing a fancy dress and flowery hat. He leaned over and quietly said to come with me, and there will be no incident. She, in a quiet southern drawl, said she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Kinloss then took out a knife and brushed aside some of the woman’s hair covering her left cheek. There, he could see the outline of a knife wound, despite heavy makeup trying to cover it up. He then began to say in a louder voice.
“I know it’s you, Myra, come clean, and there will be no violence.”
The many guests that morning had no idea Myra Rose Hart walked among them. She had gotten that knife wound from a particularly rough client back in her saloon girl days. The Black Rose herself kept on eating her breakfast before also announcing.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Kinloss nodded, and right then the whole polite southern girl persona vanished, the look of content and joy in her eyes turned to contempt and hatred. She slowly took off her hat and pulled something out from under her dress. She then put a knife on the table.
“I’ll make a deal, if you can grab this knife before I can, not only will I go quietly, but I’ll show you where I keep my money. It’s probably worth more than me.”
Kinloss liked the suggestion, everyone in the saloon looked on intently. One of the waitresses began to count down from ten to one at Hart’s suggestion. Both combatants kept one hand on the table and one under the table. At the one second mark, Kinloss went for the knife, but Hart had other plans.
She pulled the tablecloth back, revealed a pocketknife hidden in her other hand, and jammed it into Kinloss’s right hand. The bounty hunter screamed like a steer being branded. Hart then got up and took her original hunting knife.
“You men are all the same; greed overpowers all rational thought. If you were smart, you would have gone for your gun the moment we met. Now stay still.”
She went up to Kinloss, who was still crying out for his momma. She grabbed him by the hair and put the knife to his throat while softly saying.
“Shhhh, you may hunt people, but you don’t know how to take a life. A life is taken gently and slowly, like this.”
She then slowly cut the poor bounty hunter’s throat from end to end. The Black Rose then grabbed her hat and slowly walked out, with none daring to follow her.
I know who the Smoking Gun is, soon so will you
By Ela Q. Asken
For nearly a year now I have tracked a serial killer across the Five States. To all of you, that serial killer is known as the Smoking Gun. To me, he is known as my adversary. I do not know why I became so entrenched in my desire to learn about and expose the Smoking Gun killer, but it overtook me early in my investigation. I was kindly allowed to give up my regional area and follow the Smoking Gun wherever he went. From state to state the Smoking Gun killed men and women indebted to powerful people. And from state to state, I followed. I was always, of course, a day or two (and a state) behind. I could only react to what was done and hope that the Smoking Gun left behind more evidence than before. I started to learn about the man, however, in a most unusual way. I began to understand him without quite knowing how I began to understand him.
In my search, I have been in the same town or city as the Smoking Gun on multiple occasions. While I stayed in Saint Denis and Strawberry, so did he. He killed people in those places while I was there! How frustrating the hunt became! But now, my dear readers, I have finally figured out the Smoking Gun’s identity. I was fortunate enough to come across a trove of information from a private investigator in Strawberry and combined with information I was able to gain on my own, I am nearly certain I have identified the Smoking Gun. However, professionalism demands I not levy accusations at someone until I am completely certain and so that reveal will have to wait, but not for long. I will be confirming my suspicions this week.
Next week, my dear readers, I will expose once and for all who the Smoking Gun is. As this very paper hits the stands next week, so to will authorities be tipped off. The Smoking Gun will have no place to hide. He will be brought to justice not by a uniformed police officer or gun wielding bounty hunter, but by the persistence of a reporter. Next week, my dear readers, you will all know who the Smoking Gun is. And to the Smoking Gun, I offer you a final warning in this game you and I have been playing: run!
Malcolm Whitman finally victorious US National Championship in Men’s Tennis
By Rutherford X. Downing
After graduating from college, Malcolm Whitman was believed to be destined for tennis greatness. However, despite skilled performances, Whitman could not get passed the quarterfinals in the US Nationals for the last two years. It turns out that 1898 might be the year Malcolm Whitman turns it all around. Whitman overcame Dwight F. Davis in the finals to claim his first professional championship win. He celebrated by promising to be the best tennis player in the world for the foreseeable future.
Mountaineering accident takes the lives of physicist and half of his his children
By Ivy Seager
John Hopkinson, a celebrated physicist and engineer, has died in a terrible accident. Mr. Hopkinson was involved in a patent dispute 10 years ago regarding a method used for electric railway. He had a British patent already, but his method had been patented in the US before he could do so, leading to a legal battle. Mr. Hopkinson and three of his six children had been traveling on the Petite Dent de Veisivi mountain in the Pennine Alps when the accident happened. What caused the accident is still under investigation as the family mourns the loss of four beloved family members.
The Five States Herald 