The Brave Ones

Plunging down the Colorado
In dark canyons every day
It was pleasant an old timer
To meet along the way.

Dropping gold pan there he hailed us
“Come ashore boys, what's the news?
Is but two all of your party,
Or what number did you lose?”

So we anchored, as t'was evening
And the information gave
Then he slapped us on the shoulder
And said, “Boys, you're mighty brave.”

“I've had comrades,” he continued,
“That in yonder waves were tossed
And I'm working now alone boys,
Needn't tell you they were lost.”

“Yes, 'tis wicked,” I admitted
“But should this water be our grave,
There are others of our party,
And 'tis they you should call brave.”

Now imagine if you're able
This grim old timer's look
As I handed him a picture
I had kept in my note book.

“Ah, the brave ones!” said the miner,
“I understand the tale
' Tis an anxious wife and baby
Waiting at Bright Angel Trail.”

Emery C. Kolb