Back in the gully,
morning bright and still sunny,
hides pegged and soon scraped.
Thoughts run towards town,
coins jingling in his pocket,
good hunt, great Whiskey!
Thinking back again,
that gully seemed to work well,
told my Pard I'd go again.
He shook his head slow,
said "It ain't to be this time,
the herd jist moved South.
The rails have split them,
some went North and some went South.
You'll do better North."
'Hell's Bells!" I uttered,
"Jist when things was gettin' good!
There goes that new Sharps!"
Don't fret none," he said,
"the rail crews still gotta eat,
there's plenty to shoot.
They even got smart,
some engineer got lazy,
built a rolling 'Stand'!"
"That ain't right," says I,
"it jist ain't right! Jist too easy!
Buffler won't hold still!"
"That ain't the point, Pard,
the rail boss says 'Shoot and eat!'
So we shoot and eat."
"It still jist ain't right,
I'll be damned if I do it,
no sirree! Not me!"
"Well Pard, don't say no,
at least til ya hear the pay,
they say its double!"
"Double?", I blurted,
"Yep, meals a bed and Whiskey!
Hard to top!" he said.
"Hell," says I, "I'm in!
Where do I sign, the railhead?
Probly the saloon."
"Yep, and soon bucko,
the line is movin' on now,
so don't drag yer feet!
Yer old bones will smile,
hot grub, warm bed, good Whiskey.",
he said with a grin.
So the two went off,
off in search of a cold brew,
and plans for warm nights.
But alas, so sad,
their best laid plans got outdone,
Mother Nature won.
In all her power,
weather and suchlike it seems,
the Buff last long.
And so it continues...
'Ol Gabe
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