BG has grown quite a lot. New characters have joined the plot. What will this new volume hold in store. You have to check it out if you want to know more.
A Collaboration of authors from around the globe. A western written in poetry and prose. Wher...
In response to Bart's question, Denver began to talk of a time when a river of sticks and stones had come to his crew's rescue after they had encountered some unmovable boulders blocking entry and exit to a remote canyon they were surveying.
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Except for Jhonny, most were secretly rolling their eyes and thinking, oh my God, here we go again, yet another of his long, tall mining stories, and wondered how long it was before the first of them began yawning.
Their behaviour was, to say the least, just a little disrespectful, so it was no surprise when Missy noticed, that she was soon frowning.
The Canyons exit was a steep-sided narrow gorge, and the use of explosives was not viable, and it could bring the whole gorge tumbling down, making things a whole lot worse. They were at a loss when the bird lover, Tern Tide, came up with one of his typically crazy ideas, but he wasn't daft, and they listened with interest. There was some sniggering and a lot of serious debate before reaching an agreement, and the opposition took some swaying.
They went high up the canyon to the tree line, and here fallen timber was abundant, and there was no shortage of loose rocks and shale, which suited their plan to build a temporary dam and fill it to the brim. After weeks of hard labour, nothing new to a team of work-hardened miners, they constructed a makeshift dam by hand, and it was now time to execute the next stage of their planning.
The mood was a little sullen, and there were shades of disappointment, for this was the cleanest they had been for as long as they could remember. It had become more of a holiday resort whilst they waited for it to fill, sunbathing, boozing, and swimming a wonderful treat for all those weary muscles and bones that were decaying.
However, all good things must come to an end. The gorge had been cleared and readied for the detonation, and the dynamite planted at the foot of the dam was fused, and everything was ready to go, so there was no time left for dwelling.
The whole crew stood and watched as the handle of the detonator was depressed. Simultaneously every last one took a long deep breath. There was no time for another gasp, well, not until an almighty explosion took away their breath, and with it, a small piece of their hearts, the feeling of loss was damming.
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In a matter of moments, the whole dam collapses as planned, sending a gigantic wave surging down the Gorge tearing up everything in its path as if it were sticks and stones. When reaching the narrow pass, the pressure of the rising tide increases the flow to lightning speed. The raging torrent smashes into the boulders so hard and tosses them aside, just as if they were pebbles, depositing them in rows on either side of a newly formed lake. Beyond which it deposits a high mound of sand and stone, conveniently obscuring visibility of the lake and the Canyons entrance, which from a security perspective was relieving.
In a matter of days, a new mining outpost, aptly named Deep Pool, is born, as its first cabins and shacks are erected, using debris from the burst dam, and for some inexplicable reason, it felt like each stick and stone was worth saving.
