Dec 2019
An Encounter on Muleshoe Bend
Chapter 1 – Meeting Mr. Russell
September 2015.
Walking past the upper geyser basin, I stop for a moment to watch the rising sun give way to a buttermilk sky. Its late Fall in Yellowstone and I’m headed to the Madison River to wet a line before winter sets in.
My eyes scan the field dotted with cow elk and the ever elusive bull over looking his harem from the cover of a quaking aspen forest. He keeps a close eye on me as I cross the field towards the river. The cows continue to graze without moving and my eyes are now focused on a tree that’s felled across the Firehole River. I see what appears to be a person straddling the fallen tree that extends over the entire width of the river.
As I move closer to the river my thoughts are confirmed as I see a man sitting on the fallen tree with one leg propped upon a branch right there in the middle of the river. His horse, grazed in the adjacent field. His shoulder length hair and beard were snow white; he was dressed in buckskin fringed pants and buckskin shirt and wore a wonderful hat that had a turkey feather stuck in on an angle. I cupped my hands around my mouth and called out to him, “Hey old timer good morning to ya”.
He immediately shouts back “Good day to you sir and I’m no **** old timer”!
I walked hesitantly to the edge of river as he puffed on his clay pipe and said to him “Hey, ah, sorry if I offended you, I certainly didn’t mean to be disrespectful”.
“Make no never mind of that” he replied.
I climbed out on the tree next to him and extended my right hand, “Hi my names Tom Murphy”.
He kind of half heartedly shook my hand answering “My names Osborne, Osborne Russell”.
I said “Well Mr. Russell it’s a pleasure to meet you”. “This is one hell of a view you have from this tree”.
He said “Well I’ve been coming to this very spot for over 150 years!
“150 years” I exclaimed, “How old are you” I asked.
He acted he like didn’t even hear me. He looked at me with these piercing blue eyes and asked “What’s your business up here son”.
“Well I hope to catch a few trout today sir and you’re welcome to join me if you like”.
“OK he said, I suppose I should keep an eye on you just in case we run into those ornery Nez Pierce Indians”.
I kind of chuckle to myself and say “Ok Mr. Russell, If I’m going to catch any fish this morning we better get a move on”.
END CHAPTER ONE
Chapter 1 – Meeting Mr. Russell
September 2015.
Walking past the upper geyser basin, I stop for a moment to watch the rising sun give way to a buttermilk sky. Its late Fall in Yellowstone and I’m headed to the Madison River to wet a line before winter sets in.
My eyes scan the field dotted with cow elk and the ever elusive bull over looking his harem from the cover of a quaking aspen forest. He keeps a close eye on me as I cross the field towards the river. The cows continue to graze without moving and my eyes are now focused on a tree that’s felled across the Firehole River. I see what appears to be a person straddling the fallen tree that extends over the entire width of the river.
As I move closer to the river my thoughts are confirmed as I see a man sitting on the fallen tree with one leg propped upon a branch right there in the middle of the river. His horse, grazed in the adjacent field. His shoulder length hair and beard were snow white; he was dressed in buckskin fringed pants and buckskin shirt and wore a wonderful hat that had a turkey feather stuck in on an angle. I cupped my hands around my mouth and called out to him, “Hey old timer good morning to ya”.
He immediately shouts back “Good day to you sir and I’m no **** old timer”!
I walked hesitantly to the edge of river as he puffed on his clay pipe and said to him “Hey, ah, sorry if I offended you, I certainly didn’t mean to be disrespectful”.
“Make no never mind of that” he replied.
I climbed out on the tree next to him and extended my right hand, “Hi my names Tom Murphy”.
He kind of half heartedly shook my hand answering “My names Osborne, Osborne Russell”.
I said “Well Mr. Russell it’s a pleasure to meet you”. “This is one hell of a view you have from this tree”.
He said “Well I’ve been coming to this very spot for over 150 years!
“150 years” I exclaimed, “How old are you” I asked.
He acted he like didn’t even hear me. He looked at me with these piercing blue eyes and asked “What’s your business up here son”.
“Well I hope to catch a few trout today sir and you’re welcome to join me if you like”.
“OK he said, I suppose I should keep an eye on you just in case we run into those ornery Nez Pierce Indians”.
I kind of chuckle to myself and say “Ok Mr. Russell, If I’m going to catch any fish this morning we better get a move on”.
END CHAPTER ONE
