Trailing West

     Arriving in the Dakota Territories the cowboy found that most of the small railhead towns had simply dried up, the people moving on further west with the railroads or returning east with broken dreams. They had found that while this country would support the sheep herder or the large ranchers it was not a farmer’s lands. Laying in the rain shadow of the great Rockies to the west, the best a dry farmer could expect was one crop in three. This land was not gentle to the farmer with one horse and a plow. And many a farmer failed in the long cold winters, giving up their dreams they just moved on...

     It took the old cowboy two weeks to find someone who remembered the Russian farmer and his family, someone who could only tell things he didn’t want to hear. The dry hot summers and two cold winters was all the man could bear, then word spread of the gold in California and up in the Klondike country and that was excuse enough for him to cut and run. He gathered his family and they left headed west. Cowboy could find no one who could give him an address or destination but neither he nor his horse had any quit in them, so without further thought he made ready to trail on west...

     He sold his extra mare and her pack saddle in Dakota, bought fresh supplies and headed west across the lands of the Lakota and into the Big Horns with his remaining two packs, the mare and old dog. He jaw was set, his eyes on the vision of that beautiful Russian immigrant girl, the one he had shared his soul with so many years before. He muttered to himself, with just the dog and the girls to hear, as sure as there is a God in heaven I will hold my soul mate in my arms once more before I die...


© 2003/2010 ~ David L. Griffith

For My Special Lady.

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"Once I realized my wishes were never coming true I traded them in for dreams."

Text © by PalletMaster's Workshop®.
Graphics by Martyca

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