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Stiltner Family Geneology
By J. V. Laswell
- Up winding roads for fourteen miles,
- Where tall and sturdy sentries smiled.
- Around a point, along a slope,
- Now cross a creek, like white-frayed rope,
- Left there among the timber.
- Since last we heard the river's voice,
- We've had no other single choice,
- Than keep on driving upward.
- Through units logged and timber dense,
- Past mountain meadow never fenced,
- We climb on, ever higher.
- Once more he swings his rig around
- A sharp right turn. We see the top.
- A few more turns, another grade;
- Our upward sojourn soon is made;
- And splendor lies before us.
- Long timbered ridges stretch away,
- Our goal is reached at break of day,
- Here above the timber.
- Light "skiff" of snow lies on the ground.
- Wupp! Wait a bit, let's look around,
- For print of hoof, or sign of bear,
- Or cougar slinking from his lair.
- It snowed last eve, in fading light.
- What did they write here in the night?
- Wide-splayed hoof prints tell of flight;
- There! Heavy pad marks to the right,
- Lead down into the timber.
Jules Verne Laswell
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