The sun creeps behind the Slick Hills of Western Caddo County near Cook Creek just North of highway 58. The faces of nearly 100 eager campers begin to gather around a huge bond fire which shoots flames nearly 20 feet in the air. Spontaneous gasps can be heard as the campfire slowly crumbles sending glowing embers heavenward, racing to freedom as they escape their mother source but are eventually consumed by the vastness of the encompassing twilight.
Not one camper speaks, and those just arriving encircle the campfire quietly, enthralled with the beauty. Many of these campers are city kids who have never before seen a campfire like this. Some of the youngsters live in Lawton because their dad or mother is in the Army while others from Altus are Air Force children, temporarily Oklahomans by assignment only.
The fire's strength wanes, and the campers become restless.
Suddenly the sound of hoof prints are heard, and the excitement mounts.
"Indians! Indians!" The whisper is soon spread among all campers.
A horse can be seen silhouetted against the distant trees. Anticipation can be felt even by the adult leaders. The faceless rider rides into the campfire's glow. He's faceless no longer and his painted horse is recognized by some.
The adults have knowing smiles on their faces as if they have exprienced this before. Neophytes are spellbound. Silence reigns supreme.
The rider dismounts and silently pulls a rope, no a lariat off the saddle. Quickly he makes a small loop and begins to whip it around in a circular motion, letting more rope out gradually until the circle is huge. Again gasps as the elderly gentlemen jumps in and out of the rope.
The artisan begins to speak, and his benefactors listen carefully. He tells about roping. He tells about horsemanship. Some have heard the stories before, but they listen.
A volunteer! He wants a volunteer. Volunteers are everywhere. One is chosen and must stand many feet away. The cowboy makes a lasso and whips it around his head. The rope's circle is seen moving through the air to its victim. The young camper feels the rope tighten around his arms. Quickly the old man runs over to the volunteer and ties the rope around his feet, making a loop which the cowboy extends around the campers neck.
"An Oklahoma cowboy's doggie is now ready for branding," the man says above clapping hands. The cowboy mounts his horse and rides back toward the trees. He's gone.
Everet Cook is 80 now and has been entertaining and instructing scouts at Camp George Thomas, in Southwestern Caddo County nigh on to 55 years. George Thomas, a Chickasha businessman, donated the land to the Boy Scouts of America back in 1935. Cook then lived across the road and up the creek that now bears his name.
Cook is an Oklahoma original and has never tried to commercialize his artisanry; no it's been too important for that. How many campers has he influenced? Who knows? Tens of thousands may be a rough estimate, but not even he knows or cares.
For many years, Everet and his wife Ruby lived on the camp ground, maintaining the area for the Scout enthusiasts; his children, Kieth and Linda (both deceased) were reared in Scouting.
These days at 80 his memories of past Summer camps are vivid, and he can remember many of the old scoutmasters by name. Most seasons find the elderly gent in Apache tending a garden, writing memories, and enjoying a semi-retired lifestyle. But when camping season roles around, Everet Cook gets the old cowboy itch and wants to spread that itch among a lot of Tenderfoot scouters just a few miles down the road.