Cowboy Songs, and Other Frontier Ballads - Various

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you'd know there was whiskey wherever he'd land.

      My hoss throwed me off at the creek called Mud,

      My hoss throwed me off round the 2-U herd.

      Last time I saw him he was going cross the level

      A-kicking up his heels and a-running like the devil.

      It's cloudy in the West, a-looking like rain,

      And my damned old slicker's in the wagon again.

      Crippled my hoss, I don't know how,

      Ropin' at the horns of a 2-U cow.

      We hit Caldwell and we hit her on the fly,

      We bedded down the cattle on the hill close by.

      No chaps, no slicker, and it's pouring down rain,

      And I swear, by god, I'll never night-herd again.

      Feet in the stirrups and seat in the saddle,

      I hung and rattled with them long-horn cattle.

      Last night I was on guard and the leader broke the ranks,

      I hit my horse down the shoulders and I spurred him in the flanks.

      The wind commenced to blow, and the rain began to fall,

      Hit looked, by grab, like we was goin' to loss 'em all.

      I jumped in the saddle and grabbed holt the horn,

      Best blamed cow-puncher ever was born.

      I popped my foot in the stirrup and gave a little yell,

      The tail cattle broke and the leaders went to hell.

      I don't give a damn if they never do stop;

      I'll ride as long as an eight-day clock.

      Foot in the stirrup and hand on the horn,

      Best damned cowboy ever was born.

      I herded and I hollered and I done very well,

      Till the boss said, "Boys, just let 'em go to hell."

      Stray in the herd and the boss said kill it,

      So I shot him in the rump with the handle of the skillet.

      We rounded 'em up and put 'em on the cars,

      And that was the last of the old Two Bars.

      Oh it's bacon and beans most every day,—

      I'd as soon be a-eatin' prairie hay.

      I'm on my best horse and I'm goin' at a run,

      I'm the quickest shootin' cowboy that ever pulled a gun.

      I went to the wagon to get my roll,

      To come back to Texas, dad-burn my soul.

      I went to the boss to draw my roll,

      He had it figgered out I was nine dollars in the hole.

      I'll sell my outfit just as soon as I can,

      I won't punch cattle for no damned man.

      Goin' back to town to draw my money,

      Goin' back home to see my honey.

      With my knees in the saddle and my seat in the sky,

      I'll quit punching cows in the sweet by and by.

      Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya,

      Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya.

      JACK DONAHOO

      Come, all you bold, undaunted men,

      You outlaws of the day,

      It's time to beware of the ball and chain

      And also slavery.

      Attention pay to what I say,

      And verily if you do,

      I will relate you the actual fate

      Of bold Jack Donahoo.

      He had scarcely landed, as I tell you,

      Upon Australia's shore,

      Than he became a real highwayman,

      As he had been before.

      There was Underwood and Mackerman,

      And Wade and Westley too,

      These were the four associates

      Of bold Jack Donahoo.

      Jack Donahoo, who was so brave,

      Rode out that afternoon,

      Knowing not that the pain of death

      Would overtake him soon.

      So quickly then the horse police

      From Sidney came to view;

      "Begone from here, you cowardly dogs,"

      Says bold Jack Donahoo.

      The captain and the sergeant

      Stopped then to decide.

      "Do you intend to fight us

      Or unto us resign?"

      "To surrender to such cowardly dogs

      Is more than I will do,

      This day I'll fight if I lose my life,"

      Says bold Jack Donahoo.

      The captain and the sergeant

      The men they did divide;

      They fired from behind him

      And also from each side;

      It's six police he did shoot down

      Before the fatal ball

      Did pierce the heart of Donahoo

      And cause bold Jack to fall.

      And when he fell, he closed his eyes,

      He bid the world adieu;

      Come, all you boys, and sing the song

      Of bold Jack Donahoo.

      UTAH CARROLL

      And as, my friend, you ask me what makes me sad and still,

      And why my brow is darkened like the clouds upon the hill;

      Run in your pony closer and I'll tell to you the tale

      Of Utah Carroll, my partner, and his last ride on the trail.

      'Mid the cactus and the thistles of Mexico's fair lands,

      Where the cattle roam in thousands, a-many a herd and brand,

      There is a grave with neither headstone, neither date nor name,—

      There lies my partner sleeping in the land from which I came.

      We rode the range together and had rode it side by side;

      I loved him as a brother, I wept when Utah died;

      We were rounding up one morning, our work was almost done,

      When on the side the cattle started on a mad and fearless run.

      The boss man's little daughter was holding on that side.

      She rushed; the cattle saw the blanket, they charged with maddened fear.

      And little Varro, seeing the danger, turned her pony a pace

      And leaning in the saddle, tied the blanket in its place.

      In leaning, she lost her balance and

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