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Posted 4/05/16 (Tue)


Now that Easter has ended, calving is rolling along, farmers are currying the ground, and Shirley is watering her tulips, I can officially declare that spring is dang sure here. And rain is just over the ridge and headed this way. I hope.
It’s pretty dang dry in our neck of the woods. Farmers, ranchers, mallard hens, and catfish are hoping things turn around and we get some needed moisture in the upcoming weeks.
And that got me to thinking about water.
And when you think of water, one of the first places that comes to most people’s minds is the Little Missouri River. The Little Mo starts in Wyoming near Devils Tower. It cuts across the corner of Montana by Alzada and bends into South Dakota and runs through Camp Crook.
In its early stages you can step across it. Often in spring runoffs it jams up with ice and can become treacherous.
The story I heard takes place in the middle of summer when the river is flowing gently through this beautiful country.
There was a traveling minister that was preaching the gospel in an area that really needs it. Harding County. And he decided he would hold a baptism in the Little Missouri River at Camp Crook.
 The ranchers all came into town to witness this wondrous event. Well, actually many of the ranchers were still in town, because there was a prime rib supper at the “Over the Edge” bar and grill on Saturday Night. And friends don’t let friends…
Anyway the minister had Matt and Eric and Ivan and several others down at the river washing away their sins.
People were Amening and Alleluiaing and so forth when one old cowboy that was still a little full woke up behind the Corner Bar and wandered down to the river.
The minister saw this poor devil, grabbed him by the arm and led him into the water. He took him by the back of the neck, forced his head under water, and lifted him back up.
“Have you found the Lord?”
The cowboy spit out some water and said, “No.”
The minister forced his head under water, held him down for two minutes, and brought him back up.
“Have you found the Lord?”
The cowboy spit out a bunch of muddy water, stammered a little, and said, “Nope.”
The minister forced his head under water, and held him under for four minutes!
“Now have you found the Lord?”
The cowboy spit out about a quart of silty Little Missouri water, looked at the minister, and drunkenly replied, “No, are you sure this is where he went down!”