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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413313" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Old Spookses' Pass</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br> WE'D camped that night on Yaller Bull Flat,--<br> Thar was Possum Billy, an' Tom, an' me.<br> Right smart at throwin' a lariat<br> Was them two fellers, as ever I see;<br> An' for ridin' a broncho, or argyin' squar<br> With the devil roll'd up in the hide of a mule,<br> Them two fellers that camp'd with me thar<br> Would hev made an' or'nary feller a fool.<br> II.<br> Fur argyfyin' in any way,<br> Thet hed to be argy'd with sinew an' bone,<br> I never see'd fellers could argy like them;<br> But just right har I will hev to own<br> Thet whar brains come in in the game of life,<br> They held the poorest keerds in the lot;<br> An' when hands was shown, some other chap<br> Rak'd in the hull of the blamed old pot!<br> III.<br> We was short of hands, the herd was large,<br> An' watch an' watch we divided the night;<br> We could hear the coyotes howl an' whine,<br> But the darned critters kept out of sight<br> Of the camp-fire blazin'; an' now an' then<br> Thar cum a rustle an' sort of rush--<br> A rattle a-sneakin' away from the blaze,<br> Thro' the rattlin', cracklin' grey sage bush.<br> IV.<br> We'd chanc'd that night on a pootyish lot,<br> With a tol'ble show of tall, sweet grass--<br> We was takin' Speredo's drove across<br> The Rockies, by way of "Old Spookses' Pass"--<br> An' a mite of a creek went crinklin' down,<br> Like a "pocket" bust in the rocks overhead,<br> Consid'able shrunk, by the summer drought,<br> To a silver streak in its gravelly bed.<br> V.<br> 'Twas a fairish spot fur to camp a' night;<br> An' chipper I felt, tho' sort of skeer'd<br> That them two cowboys with only me,<br> Couldn't boss three thousand head of a herd.<br> I took the fust of the watch myself;<br> An' as the red sun down the mountains sprang,<br> I roll'd a fresh quid, an' got on the back<br> Of my peart leetle chunk of a tough mustang.<br> VI.<br> An' Possum Billy was sleepin' sound<br> Es only a cowboy knows how to sleep;<br> An' Tommy's snores would hev made a old<br> Buffalo bull feel kind o' cheap.<br> Wal, pard, I reckin' thar's no sech time<br> For dwind'lin' a chap in his own conceit,<br> Es when them mountains an' awful stars,<br> Jest hark to the tramp of his mustang's feet.<br> VII.<br> It 'pears to me that them solemn hills<br> Beckin' them stars so big an' calm,<br> An' whisper, "Make tracks this way, my friends,<br> We've ringed in here a specimen man;<br> He's here alone, so we'll take a look<br> Thro' his ganzy an' vest, an' his blood an' bone,<br> An post ourselves as to whether his heart<br> Is flesh, or a rotten, made-up stone."<br> VIII.<br> An' it's often seemed, on a midnight watch,<br> When the mountains blacken'd the dry, brown sod,<br> That a chap, if he shut his eyes, might grip<br> The great kind hand of his Father-God.<br> I rode round the herd at a sort of walk--<br> The shadders come stealin' thick an' black;<br> I'd jest got to leave tew thet thar chunk<br> Of a mustang tew keep in the proper track.<br> IX.<br> Ever see'd a herd ring'd in at night?<br> Wal, it's sort of cur'us,-- the watchin' sky,<br> The howl of coyotes a great black mass,<br> With thar an' thar the gleam of a eye<br> An' the white of a horn an', now an' then,<br> An' old bull liftin' his shaggy head,<br> With a beller like a broke-up thunder growl--<br> An' the summer lightnin', quick an' red,<br> X.<br> Twistin' an' turnin' amid the stars,<br> Silent as snakes at play in the grass,<br> An' plungin' thar fangs in the bare old skulls<br> Of the mountains, frownin' above the Pass.<br> An' all so still, that the leetle crick,<br> Twinklin' an' crinklin' frum stone to stone,<br> Grows louder an' louder, an' fills the air<br> With a cur'us sort of a singin' tone.<br> It ain't no matter wharever ye be,<br> (I'll 'low it's a cur'us sort of case)<br> Whar thar's runnin' water, it's sure to speak<br> Of folks tew home an' the old home place;<br> XI.<br> An' yer bound tew listen an' hear it talk,<br> Es yer mustang crunches the dry, bald sod;<br> Fur I reckin' the hills, an' stars, an' creek<br> Are all of 'em preachers sent by God.<br> An' them mountains talk tew a chap this way:<br> "Climb, if ye can, ye degenerate cuss!"<br> An' the stars smile down on a man, an say,<br> "Come higher, poor critter, come up tew us!"<br> XII.<br> An' I reckin', pard, thar is One above<br> The highest old star that a chap can see,<br> An' He says, in a solid, etarnal way,<br> "Ye never can stop till ye get to ME!"<br> Good fur Him, tew! fur I calculate<br> HE ain't the One to dodge an' tew shirk,<br> Or waste a mite of the things He's made,<br> Or knock off till He's finished His great day's work!<br> XIII.<br> We've got to labor an' strain an' snort<br> Along thet road thet He's planned an' made;<br> Don't matter a mite He's cut His line<br> Tew run over a 'tarnal tough up-grade;<br> An' if some poor sinner ain't built tew hold<br> Es big a head of steam es the next,<br> An' keeps slippin' an' slidin' 'way down hill,<br> Why, He don't make out thet He's awful vex'd.<br> XIV.<br> Fur He knows He made Him in thet thar way,<br> Sumwhars tew fit in His own great plan;<br> An' He ain't the Bein' tew pour His wrath<br> On the head of thet slimpsy an' slippery man,<br> An' He says tew the feller, "Look here, my son,<br> You're the worst hard case that ever I see,<br> But be thet it takes ye a million y'ars,<br> Ye never can stop till ye git tew ME!"<br> XV.<br> Them's my idees es I pann'd them out;<br> Don't take no stock in them creeds that say,<br> Thar's a chap with horns thet's took control<br> Of the rollin' stock on thet up-grade way,<br> Thet's free to tote up es ugly a log<br> Es grows in his big bush grim an' black,<br> An' slyly put it across the rails,<br> Tew hist a poor critter clar off the track.<br> XVI.<br> An' when he's pooty well busted an' smashed,<br> The devil comes smilin' an' bowin' round,<br> Says tew the Maker, "Guess ye don't keer<br> Tew trouble with stock thet ain't parfactly sound;<br> Lemme tote him away--best ye can do--<br> Neglected, I guess, tew build him with care;<br> I'll hide him in hell--better thet folks<br> Shouldn't see him laid up on the track for repair!"<br> XVII.<br> Don't take no stock in them creeds at all;<br> Ain't one of them cur'us sort of moles<br> Thet think the Maker is bound to let<br> The devil git up a "corner" in souls.<br> Ye think I've put up a biggish stake?<br> Wal, I'll bet fur all I'm wuth, d'ye see?<br> He ain't wuth shucks thet won't dar tew lay<br> All his pile on his own idee!<br> XVIII.<br> Ye bet yer boots I am safe tew win,<br> Es the chap thet's able tew smilin' smack<br> The ace he's been hidin' up his sleeve<br> Kerslap on top of a feller's jack!<br> Es I wus sayin', the night wus dark,<br> The lightnin' skippin' from star to star;<br> Thar wa'n't no clouds but a thread of mist,<br> No sound but the coyotes yell afar,<br> XIX.<br> An' the noise of the creek as it called tew me,<br> "Pard, don't ye mind the mossy, green spot<br> Whar a creek stood still fur a drowzin' spell<br> Right in the midst of the old home lot?<br> Whar, right at sundown on Sabba'day,<br> Ye skinn'd yerself of yer meetin' clothes,<br> An dove, like a duck, whar the water clar<br> Shone up like glass through the lily-blows?<br> XX.<br> Yer soul wus white es yer skin them days,<br> Yer eyes es clar es the creek at rest;<br> The wust idee in yer head thet time<br> Wus robbin' a bluebird's swingin' nest.<br> Now ain't ye changed? declar fur it, pard;<br> Thet creek would question, it 'pears tew me,<br> Ef ye looked in its waters agin tew night,<br> 'Who may this old cuss of a sinner be?"'<br> XXI.<br> Thet wus the style thet thet thar creek<br> In "Old Spookses' Pass" in the Rockies, talked;<br> Drowzily list'nin' I rode round the herd,<br> When all of a sudden the mustang balked,<br> An' shied with a snort; I never know'd<br> Thet tough leetle critter tew show a scare<br> In storm or dark; but he jest scrouch'd down,<br> With his nostrils snuffin' the damp, cool air,<br> XXII.<br> An' his flanks a-quiver. Shook up? Wal, yas<br> Guess'd we hev heaps uv tarnation fun;<br> I calculated quicker'n light<br> That the herd would be off on a healthy run.<br> But thar wan't a stir tew horn or hoof;<br> The herd, like a great black mist, lay spread,<br> While har an' thar a grazin' bull<br> Loomed up, like a mighty "thunder head."<br> XXIII.<br> I riz in my saddle an' star'd around--<br> On the mustang's neck I felt the sweat;<br> Thar wus nuthin' tew see--sort of felt the har<br> Commencin' tew crawl on my scalp, ye bet!<br> Felt kind of cur'us--own up I did;<br> Felt sort of dry in my mouth an' throat.<br> Sez I, "Ye ain't goin' tew scare, old hoss,<br> At a prowlin' cuss of a blamed coyote?"<br> XXIV.<br> But 'twan't no coyote nor prowlin' beast,<br> Nor rattle a-wrigglin' through the grass,<br> Nor a lurkin' red-skin--twan't my way<br> In a game like that to sing out, "I pass!"<br> But I know'd when I glimps'd the rollin' whites,<br> The sparks from the black of the mustang's eye,<br> Thar wus somethin' waltzin' up thet way<br> Thet would send them critters off on the fly!<br> XXV.<br> In the night-air's tremblin,' shakin' hands<br> Felt it beatin' kerslap onto me,<br> Like them waves thet chas'd thet President chap<br> Thet went on the war-trail in old Judee.<br> The air wus bustin'--but silent es death;<br> An' lookin' up, in a second I seed<br> The sort of sky thet allers looks down<br> On the rush an' the roar of a night stampede.<br> XXVI.<br> Tearin' along the indigo sky<br> Wus a drove of clouds, snarl'd an' black;<br> Scuddin' along to'ards the risin' moon,<br> Like the sweep of a darn'd hungry pack<br> Of preairie wolves to'ard a bufferler,<br> The heft of the herd left out of sight;<br> I dror'd my breath right hard, fur I know'd<br> We wus in fur a 'tarnal run thet night. <br> XXVII.<br> Quiet? Ye bet! The mustang scrounch'd,<br> His neck stretch'd out an' his nostrils wide;<br> The moonshine swept, a white river down,<br> The black of the mighty mountain's side,<br> Lappin' over an' over the stuns an' brush<br> In whirls an' swirls of leapin' light,<br> Makin' straight fur the herd, whar black an' still,<br> It stretch'd away to the left an' right<br> XXVIII.<br> On the level lot,--I tell ye, pard,<br> I know'd when it touch'd the first black hide,<br> Me an' the mustang would hev a show<br> Fur a breezy bit of an' evenin' ride!<br> One! it flow'd over a homely pine<br> Thet riz from a cranny, lean an' lank,<br> A cleft of the mountain;--reck'nin' two,<br> It slapp'd onto an' old steer's heavin' flank,<br> XXIX.<br> Es sound he slept on the skirt of the herd,<br> Dreamin' his dreams of the sweet blue grass<br> On the plains below; an' afore it touched<br> The other wall of "Old Spookses' Pass"<br> The herd wus up--not one at a time,<br> Thet ain't the style in a midnight run,<br> They wus up an' off like es all thair minds<br> Wus roll'd in the hide of only one!<br> XXX.<br> I've fit in a battle, an' heerd the guns<br> Blasphemin' God with their devils' yell;<br> Heerd the stuns of a fort like thunder crash<br> In front of the scream of a red-hot shell;<br> But thet thar poundin' of iron hoofs,<br> The clatter of horns, the peltin' sweep<br> Of three thousand head of a runnin' herd,<br> Made all of them noises kind of cheap. <br> XXXI.<br> The Pass jest open'd its giant throat<br> An' its lips of granite, an' let a roar<br> Of answerin' echoes; the mustang buck'd,<br> Then answer'd the bridle; an', pard, afore<br> The twink of a fire-bug, lifted his legs<br> Over stuns an' brush, like a lopin' deer--<br> A smart leetle critter! An' thar wus I<br> 'Longside of the plungin' leadin' steer!<br> XXXII.<br> A low-set critter, not much account<br> For heft or looks, but one of them sort<br> Thet kin fetch a herd at his darn'd heels<br> With a toss of his horns or a mite of a snort,<br> Fur a fight or a run; an' thar wus I,<br> Pressin' clus to the steel of his heavin' flank,<br> An' cussin' an' shoutin'--while overhead<br> The moon in the black clouds tremblin' sank,<br> XXXIII.<br> Like a bufferler overtook by the wolves<br> An' pull'd tew the ground by the scuddin' pack.<br> The herd rush'd on with a din an' crash,<br> Dim es a shadder, vast an' black;<br> Couldn't tell ef a hide wus black or white,<br> But from the dim surges a-roarin' by<br> Bust long red flashes--the flamin' light<br> From some old steer's furious an' scareful eye.<br> XXXIV.<br> Thet pass in the Rockies fairly roar'd;<br> An sudden' es winkin' came the bang<br> An rattle of thunder. Tew see the grit<br> Of thet peart little chunk of a tough mustang!<br> Not a buck nor a shy!--he gev a snort<br> Thet shook the foam on his steamin' hide,<br> An' leap'd along. Wal, pard, ye bet<br> I'd a healthy show fur a lively ride.<br> XXXV.<br> An' them cowboys slept in the leetle camp,<br> Calm es three kids in a truckle bed;<br> Declar the crash wus enough tew put<br> Life in the dust of the sleepin' dead!<br> The thunder kept droppin' its awful shells,<br> One at a minute, on mountain an' rock:<br> The pass with its stone lips thunder'd back;<br> An' the rush an' roar an' whirlin' shock<br> Of the runnin' herd wus fit tew bust<br> A tenderfoot's heart hed he chanc'd along;<br> But I jest let out of my lungs an' throat<br> A rippin' old verse of a herdsman's song,<br> XXXVI.<br> An' sidl'd the mustang closer up,<br> 'Longside of the leader, an' hit him flat<br> On his steamin' flank with a lightsome stroke<br> Of the end of my limber lariat;<br> He never swerv'd, an' we thunder'd on,<br> Black in the blackness, red in the red<br> Of the lightnin' blazin' with ev'ry clap<br> That bust from the black guns overhead!<br> XXXVII.<br> The mustang wus shod, an' the lightnin' bit<br> At his iron shoes each step he run,<br> Then plung'd in the yearth--we rode in flame,<br> Fur the flashes roll'd inter only one,<br> Same es the bellers made one big roar;<br> Yet thro' the whirl of din an' flame<br> I sung an' shouted, an' call'd the steer<br> I sidl'd agin by his own front name,<br> XXXVIII.<br> An' struck his side with my fist an' foot--<br> 'Twas jest like hittin' a rushin' stone,<br> An' he thunder'd ahead--I couldn't boss<br> The critter a mossel, I'm free tew own. <br> The sweat come a-pourin' down my beard;<br> Ef ye wonder wharfor, jest ye spread<br> Yerself fur a ride with a runnin' herd,<br> A yawnin' gulch half a mile ahead.<br> XXXIX.<br> Three hundred foot from its grinnin' lips<br> Tew the roarin' stream on its stones below.<br> Once more I hurl'd the mustang up<br> Agin the side of the cuss call'd Joe;<br> 'Twan't a mite of use--he riz his heels<br> Up in the air, like a scuddin' colt;<br> The herd mass'd closer, an' hurl'd down<br> The roarin' Pass, like a thunderbolt.<br> XL.<br> I couldn't rein off--seem'd swept along<br> In the rush an' roar an' thunderin' crash;<br> The lightnin' struck at the runnin' herd<br> With a crack like the stroke of a cowboy's lash.<br> Thar! I could see it;--I tell ye, pard,<br> Things seem'd whittl'd down sort of fine--<br> We wusn't five hundred feet from the gulch,<br> With its mean little fringe of scrubby pine.<br> XLI.<br> What could stop us? I grit my teeth;<br> Think I pray'd,--ain't sartin of thet;<br> When, whizzin' an' singin', thar came the rush<br> Right past my face of a lariat!<br> "Bully fur you, old pard!" I roar'd,<br> Es it whizz'd roun' the leader's steamin' chest,<br> An' I wheel'd the mustang fur all he was wuth<br> Kerslap on the side uv the old steer's breast.<br> XLII.<br> He gev a snort, an' I see him swerve--<br> I foller'd his shoulder clus an' tight; <br> Another swerve, an' the herd begun<br> To swing around--Shouts I, "All right<br> "Ye've fetch'd 'em now!" The mustang gave<br> A small, leettle whinny. I felt him flinch.<br> Sez I, "Ye ain't goin' tew weaken now,<br> Old feller, an' me in this darn'd pinch?"<br> XLIII.<br> "No," sez he, with his small, prickin' ears,<br> Plain es a human could speak; an' me--<br> I turn'd my head tew glimpse ef I could,<br> Who might the chap with the lariat be.<br> Wal, pard, I weaken'd--ye bet yer life!<br> Thar wan't a human in sight around,<br> But right in front of me come the beat<br> Of a hoss's hoofs on the tremblin' ground--<br> XLIV.<br> Steddy an' heavy--a slingin' lope;<br> A hefty critter with biggish bones<br> Might make jest sich--could hear the hoofs<br> Es they struck on the rattlin', rollin' stones--<br> The jingle of bit--an' clar an' shrill<br> A whistle es ever left cowboy's lip,<br> An' cuttin' the air, the long, fine hiss<br> Of the whirlin' lash of a cowboy's whip.<br> XLV.<br> I crowded the mustang back, ontil<br> He riz on his haunches--an' I sed,<br> "In the Maker's name, who may ye be?"<br> Sez a vice, "Old feller, jest ride ahead!"<br> "All right!" sez I, an' I shook the rein.<br> "Ye've turn'd the herd in a hansum style--<br> Whoever ye be, I'll not back down!"<br> An' I didn't, neither--ye bet yer pile! <br> XLVI.<br> Clus on the heels of that unseen hoss,<br> I rode on the side of the turnin' herd,<br> An' once in a while I answer'd back<br> A shout or a whistle or cheerin' word--<br> From lips no lightnin' was strong tew show.<br> 'Twas sort of scareful, that midnight ride;<br> But we'd got our backs tew the gulch--fur that<br> I'd hev foller'd a curiouser sort of guide!<br> XLVII.<br> 'Twas kind of scareful tew watch the herd,<br> Es the plungin' leaders squirm'd an' shrank--<br> Es I heerd the flick of the unseen lash<br> Hiss on the side of a steamin' flank.<br> Guess the feller was smart at the work!<br> We work'd them leaders round, ontil<br> They overtook the tail of the herd,<br> An' the hull of the crowd begun tew "mill."<br> XLVIII.<br> Round spun the herd in a great black wheel,<br> Slower an' slower--ye've seen beneath<br> A biggish torrent a whirlpool spin,<br> Its waters black es the face of Death?<br> 'Pear'd sort of like that the "millin'" herd.<br> We kept by the leaders--HIM and me,<br> Neck by neck, an' he sung a tune,<br> About a young gal, nam'd Betsey Lee!<br> XLIX.<br> Jine in the chorus? Wal, yes, I did.<br> He sung like a regilar mockin' bird,<br> An' us cowboys allus sing out ef tew calm<br> The scare, ef we can, of a runnin' herd.<br> Slower an' slower wheel'd round the "mill";<br> The maddest old steer of a leader slow'd;<br> Slower an' slower sounded the hoofs<br> Of the hoss that HIM in front of me rode.<br> L.<br> Fainter an' fainter grow'd that thar song<br> Of Betsey Lee an' her har of gold;<br> Fainter an' fainter grew the sound<br> Of the unseen hoofs on the tore-up mold.<br> The leadin' steer, that cuss of a Joe<br> Stopp'd an' shook off the foam an' the sweat,<br> With a stamp an a beller--the run was done,<br> Wus glad of it, tew, yer free tew bet!<br> LI.<br> The herd slow'd up--an' stood in a mass<br> Of blackness lit by the lightnin's eye;<br> An' the mustang cower'd es something swept<br> Clus to his wet flank in passin' by.<br> "Good night tew ye, Pard!" "Good night," sez I,<br> Strainin' my sight on the empty air;<br> The har riz rustlin' up on my head,<br> Now that I hed time tew scare.<br> LII.<br> The mustang flinch'd till his saddle girth<br> Scrap'd on the dust of the tremblin' ground--<br> There cum a laugh--the crack of a whip,<br> A whine like the cry of a well pleas'd hound,<br> The noise of a hoss thet rear'd an' sprang<br> At the touch of a spur--then all was still;<br> But the sound of the thunder dyin' down<br> On the stony breast of the nighest hill!<br> LIII.<br> The herd went back to its rest an' feed,<br> Es quiet a crowd es ever wore hide;<br> An' them boys in camp never heerd a lisp<br> Of the thunder an' crash of that run an' ride.<br> An' I'll never forget, while a wild cat claws,<br> Or a cow loves a nibble of sweet blue grass,<br> The cur'us pardner that rode with me<br> In the night stampede in "Old Spookses Pass!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Isabella+Valancy+Crawford">Isabella Valancy Crawford</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413313" data-title="Old Spookses' Pass de Isabella Valancy Crawford" data-description="I. WE'D camped that night on Yaller Bull Flat,-- Thar was Possum Billy, an' Tom, an' me. Right smart at throwin' a lariat Was them two fellers, as ever I see; An' for ridin' a broncho, or argyin' squar With the devil roll'd up in the hide of..."></div> </div> </div>
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