Mountain Man Jeb Carlyle

I came upon the small shack in the middle of the woods that one, fine day. The sky was blue with nary a cloud in sight, and I could hear the birds singing their delight and praise of such a wonderful day. I couldn't help but smile as I noticed how agreeable the weather was. As a traveling writer I had seen my share of foul weather, after all. I had braved my share of rain and snow storms, howling tornadoes and everything in between.
I got off my horse and approached the cabin's front door. I calmly walked towards the door and was about to knock when I got a very rude and unwelcome surprise. I heard the unsettling sound of a gun chamber clicking. It came from behind my head, and I realized that someone was pointing a gun right at the back of my head. Whoever this was, could fire at my head and blow it up like a ripe melon in less than a second now.
This was definitely not the kind of welcome I had expected, nor wanted."Get your hands up where I can see 'em Partner."There was nothing I could do, but simply comply. I raised both hands up to the sky. A trickle of cold sweat dripped from my forehead and I felt genuine fear and panic run up my spine. I wanted to wipe the sweat from my forehead, but I dared not make any sudden moves.