Show In the Bend or Blue Creek When Ephraim Danielson chose his farm in Blue valley his judgment was good Pioneer comrades had gone farther down the valley where the lay of the land was more level Eph had wisely shaken his head and held to the rolling upper Thirty-fiv- e country years had proved his judgment correct His place now situated on one side of the beautiful valley looked more like a picture than the active moneyHis making plant that it was house lay well below the center of his expanse of wheat fields nestled as it were in an arm of Blue Creek The creek at this olace made a sort of half circle and Eph big young had hopeful one evening long before brought there a thin pink cheeked slip of a girl scarcely reaching to his shoulders The two had stood at the bend of Blue Creek and with a love light in their eyes and the scent of new plowed ground in the air they had chosen this spot for a nest In the glory of an Oregon sunset they had gazed over the waving fields of grass toward the west and dazed by love and the glorious sun had talked hopefully of the future The girl lived farther down the valley She was Henderson’s girl Henderson was thirty years Danielson’s senior but a pioneer with Eph in the conquering of this new broad-shoulder- ed country A few years later Eph again stood with the girl where he had stood before He had not changed He was still the same large and young looking standing over six feet light haired and broad shouldered a true type a glorious offspring of his Viking ancestors They had battled with forests and conquered them battled with an angry sea battled for existence in the cold Northland and had told the same story to their blue eyed sweethearts as Eph had told to this red cheeked dark eyed daughter of David Henderson pioneer Eph was not to conquer forests he was not to struggle for existence hunting cod on a treacherous arctic sea His life work had been to conquer a dusky sea of sagebrush stretch' ing back back to the hills above Grass and sagebrush now were gone In their stead was a waving ever moving breathing expanse of yellow grain the blessed scent of ripening wheat was in the air where then had been the scent of fresh earth Eph kissed the girl — then the girl but now rounded into the glorious curves of western womanhood — and led her a bride of a few hours into the nest the nest they had chosen when he first told his story when they stood and gazed at the sunset the little nest in the bend of Blue Creek Forty years had told their story |