The Storm Testament (Ch 21, 2nd paragraph)         Beaver George and I were riding up a little valley, scattered ponderosa pine on either side and willows, alder and aspen in the bottom where the small stream wound its way from beaver pond to beaver pond. It was a winding valley, and we couldn't see very far ahead. It was early afternoon; the deep blue of the Rocky Mountain Shy made a sharp contrast to the scattered puffy white clouds. The sun was warm, but not uncomfortable, thanks to a fresh breeze coming gently down from the mountains ahead of us.