The man raised his finger to his lips, requesting for silence which was granted to him by the rest of the men in his party. As the man listened, the noises of the countryside ran through his ears. The lone coyote howled at the full moon, a group of owls hooted back and forth, and the cool waters of the Colorado river trickled in the gorge. As he came too, he noticed that the fire in the hearth had grown low. He slowly arose from his rocking chair and walked across the aged floor of his cabin home to place more wood on the glowing embers. As he returned to his seat, his mind again wandered to his last night in Independence sixty years earlier. He remembered the man from the corner of the salon who he stopped to talk to. He remembered
