"Yahoo!" cried the Red Indian. He had just come across a pretty young tourist whose car had run out of gas in the Nevada desert.
The handsome young brave offered to give her a lift to the nearest gas station on the back of his horse. She climbed aboard and they set off. She was intrigued at his continual habit of letting out loud crazy "Whoopee!" It must be an Indian custom, she thought.
When they got to the gas station, she dismounted. "Whee! Yahoo! Whoopie!" yelled the Indian as he rode off into the desert.
"He seemed pretty happy," said the gas station owner. "What did you do?"
"Nothing," she replied, "I simply rode behind him with my arms around his waist, hanging onto the saddle horn."
"Don't you know that Indians ride bareback?" said the owner.
The handsome young brave offered to give her a lift to the nearest gas station on the back of his horse. She climbed aboard and they set off. She was intrigued at his continual habit of letting out loud crazy "Whoopee!" It must be an Indian custom, she thought.
When they got to the gas station, she dismounted. "Whee! Yahoo! Whoopie!" yelled the Indian as he rode off into the desert.
"He seemed pretty happy," said the gas station owner. "What did you do?"
"Nothing," she replied, "I simply rode behind him with my arms around his waist, hanging onto the saddle horn."
"Don't you know that Indians ride bareback?" said the owner.
