I dare say you all know about the Wild West. But what many people don’t know is that there were two Wild Wests, and the wilder one by far was in Britain. Of course, this rough, tough, rip-roaring, gunslinging place I’m referring to is Wales, and to prove it, here is the story of Police Constable Bryn Bunyan, the fastest truncheon west of the River Severn.
The town of Llandanffwnfafegettupagogo was very small, and hardly on the map at all,* until the Great Coal Rush of ’81. No sooner had an old prospector come running down the High Street with a lump of coal in his hands, shouting, “Coal! It’s coal! There’s coal in them there hills, look you!” than the town was packed with people eager to strike their claim.
Soon it had three pubs, a billiard hall, and a brand-new Temperance Hotel.
And every night there were fights between the sheepboys (like cowboys, only this is Wales) and the prospectors. Soon the place became known as “the toughest town in the West.”
And so it remained for nigh on a hundred years.
Then one day, with the sunlight glinting on the silver star on his helmet, a tall figure in blue pedaled down the High Street of Llandanff.
The people in the public bar of the Lump o’ Coke peered round the door as the stranger dismounted and tied his bike up outside the old police station.
“It’s a policeman!” hissed Davies the poacher, gulping down his beer and hurrying off to hide his ferrets.*
The news spread like wildfire. Soon it reached the ears of Big Dai Evans,† sheep stealer, poacher, and thief, who was playing billiards. He was the biggest bandit in Llandanff (which is saying a lot), and people wondered how he would take the news.
It also came to the notice of Gorsebush Jones, a young sheep farmer and poacher.
Later that day there was a knock on the police station door.
“What can I do for you?” asked PC Bunyan as a rather scrawny lad entered.
“Look you,” said Gorsebush hurriedly. “Big Dai Evans is after you. . . .” He looked quite frightened, and the wispy hairs on his chin were quivering.
Now Gorsebush knew there was a reason why Dai Evans didn’t want any police around. He was planning to rob the noon train to Cardiff as it went through Llandanff Halt!
Poor old Gorsebush knew about this, and his old granny was on that train and he didn’t want to see her get hurt. Pausing every few moments to peer over his shoulder, he told the policeman all about it.
PC Bunyan listened hard and made some calls. Then he decided to go and see for himself. Ask a few questions.
And there was more trouble to come. Because when PC Bunyan made his rounds a few minutes later, with Gorsebush following him, he happened to go past the Lump o’ Coke.
There was a bike outside. Swiftly testing it, the policeman found that neither the brakes nor the lights were working. He went in to find the owner, while Gorsebush sat trembling outside, then turned tail and scuttled off. You see, he knew that bike belonged to Big Dai.
There was dead silence as PC Bunyan pushed open the door.
There, leaning on the bar, was Big Dai, enjoying a glass of leek beer and a packet of crisps. People began to edge away and one or two scrambled through the door, suddenly remembering important business elsewhere. Jones the bottle collector ducked down behind the till. Someone stopped playing the piano.
“Is that your bike outside, sir?” asked PC Bunyan. You could have heard a pin drop.
“Yes,” said Big Dai.
“I must warn you, sir, that the brakes don’t work, and it has no lights. You cannot ride it after dark unless you get it repaired.”
Everyone looked at Big Dai. No one had ever talked to him like that before, ever told him what to do.
“Thank you, Officer,” he said at last. “Then I won’t ride it home tonight.”
Well! They were expecting a punch-up at least!
Dai called his rascally bandits together after the policeman had left. “Don’t you see, look you,” he hissed. “We don’t want any trouble with the police, not with the train robbery and all.”
Then the gang crept out through the back door, to where the rails of the railway track gleamed under the rising moon.
PC Bunyan went back to the warm police station. There was a large sheepdog in front of the stove, and from the sound of it, there were sheep in the cells.
Gorsebush Jones had been making himself at home.*
“Gorsebush!”
“Yessir!” said Gorsebush.
“I’m not sure if I can do this, but I’m going to make you a temporary special constable. You better wear my spare helmet—it’s a bit big for a lad your size, but it will keep your ears warm. Keep your knees warm too,” he added with a chuckle. He handed Gorsebush a police helmet.
“What about Blodwen?” came the muffled voice from under the helmet. “She’d make a good police dog, wouldn’t she?”
“Very well. But she’ll have to do without a helmet. Now come on, we must get to the railway station. I aim to tidy up this town.”
And so two men and a dog left Llandanffwnfafegettupagogo on one bicycle. In the distance, PC Bunyan heard a train whistle and knew that it was the Cardiff train. What devilish scheme did Dai Evans have in mind for stopping it?
Gorsebush jumped off the bike and examined the ground. “Some bikes went by here not two hours ago, boyo,” he said.*
“Riding without lights, eh?” muttered PC Bunyan. “And I warned the scoundrel of that!”
Swiftly they pedaled onward. The Cardiff train would have to slow down as it passed Llandanff, and that’s where Big Dai would ambush it.
“Look you, down in the valley,” shouted Gorsebush above the rushing wind. “We’re too late, boyo!”
There, shining in the moonlight, was a great heap of coal, right across the railway track. Big Dai was going to derail the Cardiff Express!
Up on the hill PC Bunyan thumbed his three-speed gears into top gear and pedaled like mad! With a twang! both brake cables snapped. . . .
In the warm cabin of the engine, Driver Tommo Lloyd-George and Fireman Davies were enjoying a nice hot cup of cocoa, freshly brewed on the firebox.
“Now there’s something you don’t often see,” said Fireman Davies, looking out of the cab windows.
Down the hill, waving and screaming, came a policeman, a young lad in a large helmet, and a barking sheepdog, all on one bicycle. With both axles glowing red-hot in the darkness, the bike drew level with the cabin.
“What are they saying?” said the driver.
“It sounded like ‘Stop the train!’, Tommo,” said the fireman.
Gorsebush and PC Bunyan were shouting themselves hoarse, and the bike was gradually losing speed. The train began to slip past them.
“Gorsebush,” shouted PC Bunyan. “Would you care to jump onto one of the carriages and pull the communication cord?”
“I can’t afford the five-pound fine,” moaned Gorsebush.
“I’m sure they’ll overlook it. Hurry up!”
Closing his eyes tightly and standing up on the swaying saddle, Gorsebush took a deep breath and launched himself into space. Clunk! He hit the side of the last carriage and clung to a door handle.
“Excuse me, lady, but I ain’t got time for no manners,” he said as he reached in through a first-class compartment window, grabbed the cord, and tugged it downward. Screech! The train braked suddenly and slid to a halt just a few meters from the ambush.
A few seconds later PC Bunyan and Blodwen whizzed up on the bike, crashing right into the bushes where Dai Evans and his gang were hiding.
Gorsebush leaped off the side of the train and ran over too. He began tackling everyone as a shrill police whistle split the air. Over the hill galloped a squad of mounted policemen, summoned earlier by PC Bunyan.
It was all up now for Big Dai Evans. Blodwen the sheepdog herded the bandits together, and they were marched off for a long spell in jail.
And that’s about the end of it. PC Bunyan was promoted to Police Sergeant Bunyan for his part in foiling the train robbers. And his assistant in the village was—you’ve guessed it—PC Gorsebush Jones, who got into the force by standing on tiptoe and lying about his age. He still went poaching, only now whenever he caught himself, he arrested himself, charged himself, and let himself go after a stern warning.
Blodwen became Police Dog Blodwen and soon had the most law-abiding flock in South Wales.
Oh, and Gorsebush’s granny arrived safe and well. Only to tell Gorsebush off about the language she had heard him using. And to make him shave off the wisps of “beard” on his chin.
And that was how the town of Llandanffwnfafegettupagogo was cleaned up, due to the fastest truncheon in the West, PC Bryn Bunyan . . . and Gorsebush Jones, of course.