White Water

     It had been a hard ride from the Mormon settlement at Ogden west across the northern portions of this Utah country and the high deserts of Nevada. As much as possible the old cowboy had avoided all contact with man. In Immigrant’s Pass; just after entering into Nevada, he had caught up with, then passed a slow moving wagon train of new settlers headed for California…

     At the rate they were traveling it was awfully late in the year for the pass over the Sierras they faced ahead. The old cowboy cautioned the wagon master; a man named Donner, that if he didn’t increase his pace the pass would be snowed in before they could get over. But he was a tenderfoot trail boss, leading a tenderfoot train, and was not one to listen; so old cowboy just continued to travel ahead…

     Finally he came to the country just north of the silver mining camps at Silver City and Carson City; here was the entrance to the pass into California. The pass had been cut by the Truckee River in its snow-melt rush down out of the mountains and was only open four months of the year. Old dog didn’t like the cold water but they had to cross back and forth several times as they spent two days in toil up the pass...

     After the desert trail, cowboy was in awe of what the hand of God had built! For here, right to the edge of the white water, was heavy forest and wild game was everywhere. In many places the rushing stream was almost roofed over by the beautiful growth. The higher up the pass the forest blended into pine and red cedar, and further still, into redwoods. Once again the cowboy was hearing the old Irish tunes of his youth, and he again was one of the Killarney Boys of Pleasure, as his mind held her vision before him…


© 2003/2010 ~ David L. Griffith

Mail To The Cowboy

          

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

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

            AWARD