Old Spookses Pass | Page 4

free tew own.?The sweat come a-pourin' down my beard;
Ef ye wonder wharfor, jest ye spread?Yerself far a ride with a runnin' herd,
A yawnin' gulch half a mile ahead.
XXXIX.
Three hundred foot from its grinnin' lips
Tew the roarin' stream on its stones below.?Once more I hurl'd the mustang up
Agin the side of the cuss call'd Joe;?Twan't a mite of use--he riz his heels
Up in the air, like a scuddin' colt;?The herd mass'd closer, an' hurl'd down
The roarin' Pass, like a thunderbolt.
XL.
I couldn't rein off--seem'd swept along
In the rush an' roar an' thunderin' crash;?The lightnin' struck at the runnin' herd
With a crack like the stroke of a cowboy's lash.?Thar! I could see it; I tell ye, pard,
Things seem'd whittl'd down sort of fine--?We wasn't five hundred feet from the gulch,
With its mean little fringe of scrubby pine.
XLI.
What could stop us? I grit my teeth;?Think I pray'd--ain't sartin of thet;?When, whizzin' an' singin', thar came the rush?Right past my face of a lariat!?"Bully fur you, old pard!" I roar'd,?Es it whizz'd roun' the leader's steamin' chest,?An' I wheel'd the mustang fur all he was wuth?Kerslap on the side of the old steer's breast.
XLII.
He gev a snort, an' I see him swerve--?I foller'd his shoulder clus an' tight;?Another swerve, an' the herd begun?To swing around.--Shouts I, "All right?"Ye've fetch'd 'em now!" The mustang gave?A small, leettle whinney. I felt him flinch.?Sez I, "Ye ain't goin' tew weaken now,?Old feller, an' me in this darn'd pinch?"
XLIII.
"No," sez he, with his small, prickin' ears,?Plain es a human could speak; an' me--?I turn'd my head tew glimpse ef I could,?Who might the chap with the lariat be.?Wal, Pard, I weaken'd--ye bet yer life!?Thar wasn't a human in sight around,?But right in front of me come the beat?Of a hoss's hoofs on the tremblin' ground--
XLIV.
Steddy an' heavy--a slingin' lope;?A hefty critter with biggish bones?Might make jest sich--could hear the hoofs?Es they struck on the rattlin', rollin' stones--?The jingle of bit--an' clar an' shrill?A whistle es ever left cowboy's lip,?An' cuttin' the air, the long, fine hiss?Of the whirlin' lash of a cowboy's whip.
XLV.
I crowded the mustang back, ontil?He riz on his haunches--an' I sed,?"In the Maker's name, who may ye be?"?Sez a vice, "Old feller, jest ride ahead!"?"All right!" sez I, an' I shook the rein.?"Ye've turn'd the herd in a hansum style--?Whoever ye be, I'll not back down!"?An' I didn't, neither,--ye bet yer pile!
XLVI.
Clus on the heels of that unseen hoss,?I rode on the side of the turnin' herd,?An' once in a while I answer'd back?A shout or a whistle or cheerin' word--?From lips no lightnin' was strong tew show.?'Twas sort of scareful, that midnight ride;?But we'd got our backs tew the gulch--fur that?I'd hev foller'd a curiouser sort of guide!
XLVII.
'Twas kind of scareful tew watch the herd,?Es the plungin' leaders squirm'd an' shrank--?Es I heerd the flick of the unseen lash?Hiss on the side of a steamin' flank.?Guess the feller was smart at the work!?We work'd them leaders round, ontil?They overtook the tail of the herd,?An' the hull of the crowd begun tew "mill."
XLVIII.
Round spun the herd in a great black wheel,?Slower an' slower--ye've seen beneath?A biggish torrent a whirlpool spin,?Its waters black es the face of Death??'Pear'd sort of like that the "millin'" herd?We kept by the leaders--HIM and me,?Neck by neck, an' he sung a tune,?About a young gal, nam'd Betsey Lee!
XLIX.
Jine in the chorus? Wal, yas, I did.?He sung like a regilar mockin' bird.?An' us cowboys allus sing out ef tew calm?The scare, ef we can, of a runnin' herd.?Slower an' slower wheel'd round the "mill";?The maddest old steer of a leader slow'd;?Slower an' slower sounded the hoofs?Of the hoss that HIM in front of me rode.
L.
Fainter an' fainter grow'd that thar song?Of Betsey Lee an' her har of gold;?Fainter an' fainter grew the sound?Of the unseen hoofs on the tore-up mold.?The leadin' steer, that cuss of a Joe?Stopp'd an' shook off the foam an' the sweat,?With a stamp and a beller--the run was done,?Wus glad of it, tew, yer free tew bet!
LI.
The herd slow'd up;--an' stood in a mass?Of blackness, lit by the lightnin's eye:?An' the mustang cower'd es something swept?Clus to his wet flank in passin' by.?"Good night tew ye, Pard!" "Good night," sez I,?Strainin' my sight on the empty air;?The har riz rustlin' up on my head,?Now that I hed time tew scare.
LII.
The mustang flinch'd till his saddle girth?Scrap'd on the dust of the tremblin' ground--?There cum a laugh--the crack of a whip,?A whine like the cry of a well pleas'd hound,?The noise of a hoss thet rear'd an' sprang?At the touch of a spur--then all was still;?But the sound of the thunder dyin' down?On the stony breast of the highest hill!
LIII.
The herd went back to its rest an' feed,?Es quiet a crowd es ever wore hide;?An' them boys in camp