Gabe gazed with mixed emotions at the odd shaped object that sat on top of the mounted poles.

He felt admiration, irritation and also a sense of shame. He knew that his proud attitude would have cost them so much even though he hated to admit it.

He had derided Smoking Grass when the young Indian scout came up with the idea of constructing a reservoir from the tough hides of the dead Buffalo instead of allowing it to go to waste.

He had felt that it was highfalutin nonsense.

‘What did the young blade know?’

He could trust Smoking Grasses riding, hunting and tracking skills to a large extent, but that was as far as he was willing to go.

However, from the look of things, the young lad had proven him wrong, yet again.

The thick reservoir sat there proudly collecting the falling rain.

Finally, the rain had come just as the boy predicted.

They had not seen a drop of rain for the past seven hot months and the wells had gone bone dry.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Inlinkz

In response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you Sonya for the photo and Priceless Joy for this challenge platform.