Old Spookses Pass | Page 3

through the grass,?Nor a lurkin' red-skin--'twan't my way?In a game like that to sing out, "I pass!"?But I know'd when I glimps'd the rollin' whites,?The sparks from the black of the mustang's eye,?Thar wus somethin' waltzin' up thet way?Thet would send them critters off on the fly!
XXV.
In the night-air's tremblin', shakin' hands?Felt it beatin' kerslap onto me,?Like them waves thet chas'd thet President chap?Thet went on the war-trail in old Judee.?The air wus bustin'--but silent es death;?An' lookin' up, in a second I seed?The sort of sky thet allers looks down?On the rush an' the roar of a night stampede.
XXVI.
Tearin' along the indigo sky?Wus a drove of clouds, snarl'd an' black;?Scuddin' along to'ards the risin' moon,?Like the sweep of a darn'd hungry pack?Of preairie wolves to'ard a bufferler,?The heft of the herd, left out of sight;?I dror'd my breath right hard, fur I know'd?We wus in fur a'tarnal run thet night.
XXVII.
Quiet? Ye bet! The mustang scrounch'd,?His neck stretch'd out an' his nostrils wide,?The moonshine swept, a white river down,?The black of the mighty mountain's side,?Lappin' over an' over the stuns an' brush?In whirls an' swirls of leapin' light,?Makin' straight fur the herd, whar black an' still,?It stretch'd away to the left an' right
XXVIII.
On the level lot;--I tell ye, pard,?I know'd when it touch'd the first black hide,?Me an' the mustang would hev a show?Fur a breezy bit of an' evenin' ride!?One! it flow'd over a homely pine?Thet riz from a cranny, lean an' lank,?A cleft of the mountain;--reckinin' two,?It slapp'd onto an' old steer's heavin' flank,
XXIX.
Es sound he slept on the skirt of the herd,?Dreamin' his dreams of the sweet blue grass?On the plains below; an' afore it touched?The other wall of "Old Spookses' Pass"?The herd wus up!--not one at a time,?Thet ain't the style in a midnight run,--?They wus up an' off like es all thair minds?Wus roll'd in the hide of only one!
XXX.
I've fit in a battle, an' heerd the guns?Blasphemin' God with their devils' yell;?Heerd the stuns of a fort like thunder crash?In front of the scream of a red-hot shell;?But thet thar poundin' of iron hoofs,?The clatter of horns, the peltin' sweep?Of three thousand head of a runnin' herd,?Made all of them noises kind of cheap.
XXXI.
The Pass jest open'd its giant throat?An' its lips of granite, an' let a roar?Of answerin' echoes; the mustang buck'd,?Then answer'd the bridle; an', pard, afore?The twink of a fire-bug, lifted his legs?Over stuns an' brush, like a lopin' deer--?A smart leetle critter! An' thar wus I?'Longside of the plungin' leadin' steer!
XXXII.
A low-set critter, not much account?For heft or looks, but one of them sort?Thet kin fetch a herd at his darn'd heels?With a toss of his horns or a mite of a snort,?Fur a fight or a run; an' thar wus I,?Pressin' clus to the steel of his heavin' flank,?An' cussin' an' shoutin'--while overhead?The moon in the black clouds tremblin' sank,
XXXIII.
Like a bufferler overtook by the wolves,?An' pull'd tew the ground by the scuddin' pack.?The herd rush'd oh with a din an' crash,?Dim es a shadder, vast an' black;?Couldn't tell ef a hide wus black or white,?But from the dim surges a-roarin' by?Bust long red flashes--the flamin' light?From some old steer's furious an' scareful eye.
XXXIV.
Thet pass in the Rockies fairly roar'd;?An sudden' es winkin' came the bang?An rattle of thunder. Tew see the grit?Of thet peart little chunk of a tough mustang!?Not a buck nor a shy!--he gev a snort?Thet shook the foam on his steamin' hide,?An' leap'd along--Wal, pard, ye bet?I'd a healthy show fur a lively ride.
XXXV.
An' them cowboys slept in the leetle camp,?Calm es three kids in a truckle bed;?Declar the crash wus enough tew put?Life in the dust of the sleepin' dead!?The thunder kept droppin' its awful shells,?One at a minute, on mountain an' rock:?The pass with its stone lips thunder'd back;?An' the rush an' roar an' whirlin' shock?Of the runnin' herd wus fit tew bust?A tenderfoot's heart hed he chanc'd along;?But I jest let out of my lungs an' throat?A rippin' old verse of a herdsman's song,
XXXVI.
An' sidl'd the mustang closer up,?'Longside of the leader, an' hit him flat?On his steamin' flank with a lightsome stroke?Of the end of my limber lariat;?He never swerv'd, an' we thunder'd on,?Black in the blackness, red in the red?Of the lightnin' blazin' with ev'ry clap?That bust from the black guns overhead!
XXXVII.
The mustang wus shod, an' the lightnin' bit?At his iron shoes each step he run,?Then plung'd in the yearth--we rode in flame,?Fur the flashes roll'd inter only one,?Same es the bellers made one big roar;?Yet thro' the whirl of din an' flame?I sung an' shouted, an' call'd the steer?I sidl'd agin by his own front name,
XXXVIII.
An' struck his side with my fist an' foot--
'Twas jest like hittin' a rushin' stone,?An' he thunder'd ahead--I couldn't boss
The critter a mossel, I'm