One night, when the moon was as big and as yellow as cowboy pancakes, the Milkybar Kid unrolled his blanket beneath the desert stars. The call of a distant coyote startled him.

"The desert at night is no place for city folk," he mused. "It'd scare the pants off them."

This was Navajo country; the home of his magnificent and fearless friend, Chief White Eagle. Loved by his people and loathed by the greedy white men who came to steal his lands, White Eagle had a weakness. He could not resist the chocolate bars that the Milkybar Kid always brought him.

At sunrise the Kid set off for White Eagle's village. He rode for many hours through the searing desert heat till he reached a shady, tree-lined creek where he could shelter from the worst of the midday sun. The Kid took his saddlebag containing the precious Milkybars and hung it from a branch above the cool water.

"They'll not melt now," he thought.

Suddenly he noticed a plume of dust rising from the horizon. Through the shimmering heat he could see a horse galloping at breakneck speed towards him. Horse and rider drew closer: it was the young Navajo warrior, Sparkling Stream, daughter of White Eagle.

"Come quickly," she cried, "my people need your help. Come at once and I will explain."

Within seconds the Kid had remounted his horse and was racing on across the desert.

"Evil men have come looking for gold," explained Sparkling Stream. "They use dynamite to break the rocks and are destroying our beautiful country."

By the time they reached the Navajo settlement, the Kid had made his plan. He told White Eagle to despatch fifty braves into the desert in search of rattlesnakes.

"As many as they can find," he urged.

At sunset the braves returned; each with a wriggling, rattling, seething sackful of deadly snakes. Then, under cover of darkness, the Milkybar Kid led them towards the gold diggers' camp. He guessed that these city people would be unused to life in the desert.

"Rattlesnakes," he laughed, "that'll rattle them."

While the gold diggers slept, the Navajo braves crept forward. Each laid his sack gently down, untied the string, then silently withdrew. From a nearby hill they watched and waited as fifty slithering sacks discharged their hissing contents.

Voices could soon be heard. The voices turned into shouts, and with the shouts came gunfire, panic, and chaos. Men ran, shouted, and shot in every direction; hooves stamped and wagon wheels rolled. The Kid smiled to himself as the shouts, shots, hooves, and wheels rattled outwards into the desert night, fading at last into the distance.

The Navajo cheered wildly. Chief White Eagle stepped forward, licked his lips, cleared his throat, and declared that such a famous victory should be celebrated properly…with chocolate. Everyone fell silent.

"The Milkybars are on me!" shouted the Kid.