Disclaimer:



I found this on Read & Review and enjoyed reading it. You've captured the suddenness and intensity of a summer storm sweeping the plains. I've been in similar storms in Montana. You might want to add a sense of how quickly such a storm can dissipate. Sometimes the sun returns and almost mocks the fright that was felt only minutes before.

In general, I think this piece would benefit from white space between paragraphs and a larger font to improve readability. You might try using a line spacing of 1.4.

I also picked a few nits, just for you!

I offer these suggestions (in bold blue) for your consideration:


Climbing the bluff was nothing like climbing the trees at home. It took all of his concentration as he analyzed every hand and foothold that was available to him for it’s its viability. “Hurry up, slowpoke!” Looking up, Jacob realized he was almost at the top and Bradley was lying face down and looking over the ledge, holding out a hand to him. With a heave, Jacob threw himself upwards and caught the outstretched limb and together they managed to get him over the lip.
As Jacob sat on the ground, swinging his feet over the ledge, he gazed at the magnificent view of the way they had come. He could faintly see a line of wagon wagons dotting the landscape as the they meandered their way across the Great Plains. They seemed so insignificant compared to their surrounding landscape. Towering over the road, he could clearly see they the brock formations they had already passed, Courthouse, Jail and Chimney Rocks, looking all the more magnificent for being able to see them at a distance. It seemed impossible to remember that they had already traveled all that distance and had thought it to be boring. In reality, it was a wilderness that was breathtaking in its complexity.
“Jake!” He exclaimed softly. “You have to look at this!” Carefully, Jacob pulled away from the ledge and got to his feet. As his gaze followed the ridge, he startled started at the loud rumble that seemed to come from above it. Gazing heavenward, he saw the dark, ominous thunder clouds that seemed to be swiftly headed their way.
“Come Bradley, we need to warn the others. Looks like a storm is headed our way.” Quickly, the two men started to make their way down the rock face, at times just sliding and at others hazardous finding hazardous holds to cling to. In record time, they made it to the bottom and sprinted to the wagons. Behind them, the roar of the storm seemed to chase them as they made their way to the front.
“Captain Nedry, I recommend we circle the wagons and recall everyone now. There is a huge storm coming.” Jacob told him, getting straight to the point.
“I am sure that the rain will pass and a little mud hasn’t slowed us down before.”
“With all due respect, sir, I have heard of the storms here on the plains, they are fearsome in their approach and devastating in their onslaught.” Suddenly Jacob was interrupted by a crack of thunder so monstrous, that all stood still in fear. Following it was a silence so profound that nothing dared interfere, not even the stubborn cattle. Then the heavy downpour came, drenching the men within seconds.
“I believe you are correct, Jake. It may be too late to circle the wagons. Warn everyone to batten down their canvas and take cover. Hopefully this will blow over soon.” Captain Nedry acknowledged as he hastened to follow his own directives.
Soon, the entire wagon train was hunkered down in their wagons, or under them as some were so full there was no room for a body inside. Jacob hunkered down with Roger, Rigel and Bradley, each gazing out of the flaps of the canvas as the devastating storm raged. Suddenly, a huge bolt of lightning lit up the sky, seeming to touch down as it tore through the heavens in its rage. Looking to his wagon mates, he could see how much nature’s frightening face was bothering them and Jacob was thankful for the shelter of their wagon.
And then, the torrential rain turned almost deadly. As though in response to their weary positivity, the clouds opened up and started tossing deadly hail at them. They could hear it pounding down on top of the wagon. From outside, the frightening screams of the cattle rose above the storm as they had no protection from the walnut-sized chunks of ice. Their bellows of pain made him cringe, but at the moment there was nothing he could do to help.
And then the canvas broke open. Quickly they all grabbed anything they could reach to try to protect themselves. “We should get under the wagon!” Rigel shouted above the din, wearing a kettle over his head.
“Wouldn’t do much good,” Roger replied. “The ground is flooded!” Rigel was protecting himself as much as possible with a pail while Bradley Was just covering his head with his arms.
“Here, Brad, use this!” Jacob said as he handed him his saddle. Jacob wrapped himself in his quilt to try to protect his shoulders and covered his head with his saddle bags. They hunkered down and hoped that it would be over soon.
It was about two hours later that the storm finally passed over them. They didn’t leave however, as the wagon and all the others as far as they could see, was under standing in two feet of water.
“Ho the wagon!” Called a voice from outside. Peeking outside, they saw Homer, a nice man they occasionally went hunting with. “How are you holding up??
“We’re downright wet,” Bradley replied, “but otherwise alright. How is everyone else?”
“That was quite the storm and I am glad that we didn’t’ try to travel in it. There are some head wounds and even a broken arm, but otherwise, no major injuries. The wagons took heavy damage though. Lots of broken bows and ridgepoles, not to mention the canvases that are torn to shreds. No, the biggest worries are the poor cattle. They had not no protection. We are going to have to stay the rest of the day to hunt down the ones that ran away and tend their many injuries. They are in no shape to pull wagons at this moment.” After delivering the news, he then turned away. Jacob looked at Roger, it was going to be a long evening, but they would make it through, like they always do did.


overall, a good read. Keep writing!


Words Whirling 'Round

A poet merely pens a mirror, the reader brings the reflection.

                       

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