The River Riders

Winter closed early over the great desert of the Northwest, and the first dense snow lay on the banks and covered dark trees with a white mantle. Ice formed under the river banks, and its huge layers crumbled under the sound of a choking stern wheel and rattled like broken glass on a track. In the snowy forest thickets, neither human dwellings nor living creatures were visible. The still air was bitter from the frost, and a dull red sun fell behind the distant hills.