Soul Stance River - 20

The late may sunlight is bathing a monument of Nature so colossal in sculpted vertical structure that it may very well be the palace complex of forgotten supermen, stories from my childhood pastor of biblical Petra discovered by Crusaders, or the Temple of Ramesses in Egypt emerge in my mind as we course through this valley of watered chisled fascades, sandstone worked by the trickles of centuries has created craftsmanship of rusticly romanesque grandeur, pillars, cornices, porticos, grotesque statuary invites the imagination into the architecture of antiquity and the legacy that looms in the landscape of divine forces, these are the White Cliffs of America born from the bone of Divinity and worked by the water of will, Coming out of the Atlantis precinct as Clark calls it a fork in the river confronts us like a new religion a pathway heretofore unknown to our shadowed souls, the Hidatsas mentioned nothing of this avenue, I am angered hot by this suprise of doom if we choose the wrong river we find only dreadful failure, both waterways are mighty , broad, and of a similar depth, one goes northwest the other southwest, I swear my brain is gonna burst, Clark is bracing himself against a tree as if he is waiting for a heart attack, nobody knows blue from black at this juncture and the guys are gettin hyper as horses amid thunder, after discussing the odds he and I return to camp as professional officers, no doubts, only orders, two small detachments , one led by me, the other by Ordway will traverse on foot one river each up to forty miles examining clues like owls on a mouse's trail, each party is on extra alert for bear and Indians, grizzlies have become a common monster lately sometimes requiring 12 shots to subdue, they are infamous for their zombie qualities having freakish endurance and bloodlust while being injured, as for the natives, one only knows after eyes are shown, J.A.B.