-
Title
-
Scottsbluff Narratives, 1937_038
-
Alternative Title
-
1937 Scottsbluff Narratives
-
Date
-
1937
-
Creator
-
Frank Shoemaker
-
Description
-
Frank Shoemaker - Sandhills Narratives
-
Identifier
-
321301
-
Transcription
-
3 Then, again to our spring-gosh, how we hark back to water, on these warm days! Our Bad-Lands are a splendid play-ground; and how we love to follow their crumbling crests; or to traverse a deep cut, 40 or 50 feet in depth, with many such tortuous turns that no Fatty might pass! Time and again, the going is so hard that we must pass to those above, our luggage 0 so that we may have free use of every limb, to ascend a six-foot hazard. Side-cuts lead off; and in these it is our wont to hid; and if our following party passes us without noting our presence, it is quite within ethical bounds to hoot at them-to impress them with the fact that they are mere blind gropers, not fitted to cope with the intricacies of this new play-ground, with a surprise beyond every bend. . . It is fine, s plendid-even uniq ue; but it takes its toll. Tho today we had no major calamities, I treated with iodine, three minor hurts-to hand, foot, and lower leg; the latter bordering on serious.-One must cautious, in these treacherous Bad-lands; the footing is insecure; the surface is hard enough to really injure one who slides too far, and too fast. But youth loves risk; and every participant in today's daring will remember it thro the years.-Often we find notable things: fossil turtles, sometimes 15 to 20 inches long; and-the geologists tell us-about thirty million years of age. . . We paw over such a turtle; and try to conceive the meaning, of thirty-million-years. Not one of us can do it; so, after a suitable pause, while our own brief personal knowledge of Time is trying to sense the meaning of such a vast period, we give; some one makes a remark quite in keeping with our own period; the spell is broken; and we go on. Well, away back there, I said. . . again to our spring. The swimmers had emerged so slowly that our time was short; it was too late to roast more wieners; we must beat it, right smart, for home. So I went, with a volunteer lassie to keep me company, to our cache, near the site of our earlier fire, to retrieve our provisions. . . Believe it or not-the cows had found our cache-had overturned our heavy pressed-board box intended to ward off magpies-had scattered our provision over three square yards of surface-had trampled several of our wieners-and had eaten every banana!-and half of our buns.-Twice before, the magpies have robbed us sending us home hungry; and now, the cows have done it. . . We were famished; so we simply did for remaining wieners, without roasting, as we made our way homeward. Gaining to the edge of Scottsbluff, we cut south of Terry's to follow the crooked rutted road eastward, along the rails; which would save us several blocks' walk. . . At the railroad and Fifth Avenue, a cruising Lincoln Cab. . . "Looky here, feller,' I said to the taxi driver, "it's only a little more than a half-mile to Overland Park; but these kids are tired; so let's go." Again, eleven kids packed in; arriving at their home area in a pair of minutes. Vast eclat in parting; the lids had loved, the day, and told me so. I rode back in the taxi to Mrs. Shuck's (where I had a dandy square meal, an delivered the three quarts of currants). . . "What's the damage, old-timer?" I asked the taximan. "Oh, nothin'" he responded; "this is on me."-Again, I proclaim, these boys are good !
-
Rights
-
To inquire about usage, please contact Archives & Special Collections, University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries. These images are for educational use only. Not all images are available for publication.
-
Is Version Of
-
frank_h_shoemaker_321301-01078.jpg
