Virgil Scott and his best friend Roy Sheffield left their horse ranch and were making one of their routine runs to Denver to deliver thirty-two horses. But the short trail drive proved to be anything but routine when late that first night, they were set upon by men wielding deadly clubs and Virgil found himself face down in a quickly flowing creek taking him downstream to what would surely be his death. All he could feel was the icy cold water and excruciating pain. He had given up and there was nothing he could do.