Wherein the Big Wall Dragon Brings Rain to the Plains
As told to Wendy Beye by Moria Milton Perez
During the drought years of the late 1980s, ranchers in the Musselshell basin were longing for enough rain to grow even meager crops of hay and grain. The Big Wall Dragon, who always kept up on current events by reading the local newspaper, knew that many families were considering giving up their agricultural lifestyles and moving away. Their livestock herds had been sold off to save feed, and there was no harvest to haul to the local grain elevators in the autumn. The dragon loved helping out in such situations, because there generally were pleasant rewards for him following the resolution of problems.
Dragon visited with the Miltons to come up with a plan to deal with the drought. It seemed that Pacific storms bearing buckets of rain had been rolling in to the western part of the state, but the fearsomely high Rocky Mountains had been blocking their passage to the eastern plains. Heavily-laden clouds were squeezing out their precious moisture on the western slopes of the high mountains. Only light, airy fair weather clouds were left to race across the plains.
It had been a few years since Dragon had to employ his fiery hot breath to do anything other than roast the occasional marshmallow, so he had a good head of coals saved up in his gizzard. He offered to fly west to look the situation over, and if he could find a suitable area, he would blast a new pass through the mountains to allow the storms to move through to the east.
On a warm day in mid-June, Dragon packed a lunch and took off against the wind. He had to work hard to gain altitude against the down sloping zephyrs coming off the Rockies, but eventually, he was high enough to look for a likely spot to use his blast furnace on the Continental Divide. (Of course, his ability to fly high was not helped at all by the weight he packed because of gobbling those roasted marshmallows.)
He landed on the flat plateau east of Goat Mountain to rest and eat his lunch. After swallowing a sticky peanut butter and grasshopper sandwich he needed a drink. He hovered off the edge of the plateau and gulped several barrels of water from the cataract that gushes right out of a rock wall there. Refreshed, he squinted at Goat Mountain and decided that if he removed the peak, clouds would be able to slip through the gap and move east.
Dragon heaved his giant green scaly sides that acted like bellows to fire up his furnace. Then he gave a mighty belch and a flame nearly a quarter of a mile long shot from his mouth. His aim was off a little, but he melted some rock on the south side of Goat Mountain, causing a small landslide. He tried again, adjusting the direction of the flame, and knocked of a larger chunk of granite. He worked hard all afternoon, and was just about out of coals when the last bit of the peak tumbled down.
He lay in the grass, too exhausted to fly home. In the evening, he saw billowing clouds building to the west, and sure enough, they came rushing through the new pass he had created, and he watched them head straight and true for the Musselshell.
The next morning, Dragon awoke stiff, cold, and hungry, but with the assistance of a tailwind, he was able to fly home to Big Wall. He noted with pleasure that the grass was already beginning to look greener in his home territory, and when he gently settled on to a boulder near his cave, there was a happy crowd of ranchers there to greet him.
The men brought wheelbarrows full of coal to replenish the supply in his gizzard, and the women had brought covered dishes and all his favorite desserts to help him regain his strength. The drought has been broken, and by late summer, everyone in the neighborhood harvested plentiful crops, bought more cows, and had a wonderful Christmas.
Dragon visited with the Miltons to come up with a plan to deal with the drought. It seemed that Pacific storms bearing buckets of rain had been rolling in to the western part of the state, but the fearsomely high Rocky Mountains had been blocking their passage to the eastern plains. Heavily-laden clouds were squeezing out their precious moisture on the western slopes of the high mountains. Only light, airy fair weather clouds were left to race across the plains.
It had been a few years since Dragon had to employ his fiery hot breath to do anything other than roast the occasional marshmallow, so he had a good head of coals saved up in his gizzard. He offered to fly west to look the situation over, and if he could find a suitable area, he would blast a new pass through the mountains to allow the storms to move through to the east.
On a warm day in mid-June, Dragon packed a lunch and took off against the wind. He had to work hard to gain altitude against the down sloping zephyrs coming off the Rockies, but eventually, he was high enough to look for a likely spot to use his blast furnace on the Continental Divide. (Of course, his ability to fly high was not helped at all by the weight he packed because of gobbling those roasted marshmallows.)
He landed on the flat plateau east of Goat Mountain to rest and eat his lunch. After swallowing a sticky peanut butter and grasshopper sandwich he needed a drink. He hovered off the edge of the plateau and gulped several barrels of water from the cataract that gushes right out of a rock wall there. Refreshed, he squinted at Goat Mountain and decided that if he removed the peak, clouds would be able to slip through the gap and move east.
Dragon heaved his giant green scaly sides that acted like bellows to fire up his furnace. Then he gave a mighty belch and a flame nearly a quarter of a mile long shot from his mouth. His aim was off a little, but he melted some rock on the south side of Goat Mountain, causing a small landslide. He tried again, adjusting the direction of the flame, and knocked of a larger chunk of granite. He worked hard all afternoon, and was just about out of coals when the last bit of the peak tumbled down.
He lay in the grass, too exhausted to fly home. In the evening, he saw billowing clouds building to the west, and sure enough, they came rushing through the new pass he had created, and he watched them head straight and true for the Musselshell.
The next morning, Dragon awoke stiff, cold, and hungry, but with the assistance of a tailwind, he was able to fly home to Big Wall. He noted with pleasure that the grass was already beginning to look greener in his home territory, and when he gently settled on to a boulder near his cave, there was a happy crowd of ranchers there to greet him.
The men brought wheelbarrows full of coal to replenish the supply in his gizzard, and the women had brought covered dishes and all his favorite desserts to help him regain his strength. The drought has been broken, and by late summer, everyone in the neighborhood harvested plentiful crops, bought more cows, and had a wonderful Christmas.