Chip Colfax

Ellsworth, my faithful canine companion and I were up the canyon early in the morning, checking on the spring that fed the creek. Everything was fine as far as the eye could see. The creek ran past the cabin that my pa and I had built on the ranch three years before. As I reflected on why I had found myself in this predicament at all, Ellsworth began licking my head as persistently as he would slurp down salt pork.
I tried to sit up and focus on the situation that had developed. Whatever had happened, it wasn't good.