A loud gunshot was heard coming from the hills. A young man falls to the ground next to his shattered skull. Moments later a pair of suspiscious looking men came to loot the dead man. After having searched for valuables they disappear into the bushes.
"Empty again." said the tall one.

"Aye. Nothing but a few pounds and a mattress." said the shorter man as he sighed and sat down next to a fire.

"There are less travelers coming by here every month. Maybe we should change location, William? It would seem that they have heard of deaths in these hills and are avoiding it. Only the foolish come by here nowadays."

"Let them come! The dumber they are the easier they are to kill. I aint movin' nowhere. We have been here for 10 years and we get enough of these fools to live well. I grew up hunting here!" William said in haste and sighed. "Pappy used to take us here to hunt with him, remember? He was a horrible man."

"That he was. But he was darn good father and the best marksman thtat I have ever laid eyes on. Could shoot a mounted postman 2 miles away. Remember postmen, William? They were never empty, they always had some with them."

"That they did, George. That they did. Maybe they ran out of them? What with the cows dying and all. You never kn-Shhhhh" said the short whilst grabbing his rifle.

In the morning fog the sound of two horses galloping could be heard from afar. The fog was too thick for any of the brothers to see through so they waited. Their patience was rewarded as two minutes later two dark figures could be seen in the thick fog.

"Quick! Grab your rifle, George. We're going to take these two out at the same time. Once they're down, shoot the horses. We're running low on food." whispered the short man from behind a bush.

The two figures were clearly seen now. They were wearing black hats and black vest s with golden crests on them. They had two pouches on each side of their horses. It was clearly seen from far away that they were full.

"Postmen! Postmen, brother! Postmen! Two postmen! Oh bless our luck. We can't miss them or we're done for." Whispered the short man excitedly.

Two loud shots could be heard from the hills. Followed by two thuds and the sound of horses neighing. Two more shots could be heard from the hills. Followed by two more thuds. There lay two postmen with their horses. Shot by looters. No post was delivered that day.

From the bushes came running two men. Running with a skip in their step and a smile on their faces. The brothers jumped with joy and laughing could be heard from the hills.

"A gallon! A gallon of milk! It's our lucky day! This will sell for at least four hundred. We won't be going hungry for a while. You go to the town and sell it. I'll stay here and bury the postmen and make us lunch. Buy some rum, brother. Good rum. We're celebrating today!" Said the taller brother with a grin on his face.

So the short man set off to the nearest town riding on his donkey. A gallon of milk in his pouch and a smile on his face.

A gunshot could be heard from the hills.

The donkey and the short man lay next to each other in a pool of blood. The brother starts to laugh.

"The milk didn't spill!" Yelled the brother with overwhelming joy.

A gunshot could be heard from the hills.