Post by wildfire on Jan 25, 2005 1:15:15 GMT -5
Big Jake the Line-Back Dun
The cowboy came out of nowhere, and I shall not forget!
His chaps and shirt all caked with dirt, his face streaked blood and sweat!
The story goes; his bride was stolen by Apache braves.
And Gus vowed that he’d never rest, ‘til they lay cold in their graves!
He pushed his big dun, day and night, with fears that he would fail
And suddenly as though Fate decreed, he rode across their trail
The warpath traveled north and west, straight toward the Mogollons,
and Gus gave Big Jake all the rein, and urged him steadily on!
Then suddenly a war cry, like thunder filled the land!
He saw the red man bearin’ down, his arrow creased his hand!
Gus realized his chance to live, was surly slim to none!
And then he saw Floe between two braves!
The odds were 6-1!
But the big dun seemed to understand, t’was the last race he would run.
And as he lengthened his mighty stride;
Gus prayed . . . and unsheathed his gun.
The Indians’ ponies, desert bred would test the big dun’s heart.
And Gus knew, Jake was worn and tried, before the race would start.
But Jake seemed nigh immortal as he thundered or the ground,
and Gus wheeled in his saddle, and cut three red men down!
Three braves now pressed him onwards, as he slowed Jake just a bit
the arrows rained about him, but not one scored a hit.
He checked the big dun once again, to lure them closer so,
to bring ‘em into better range, to keep from hittin’ Floe.
Why, he knew that he could lose those braves, if he let the big dun fly!
But to win the race . . . was to lose a fight . . . and let a loved one die!
Big Jake was wet with salty sweat, and his lather flew like rain!
His mighty gait did not abate, over miles of rough terrain.
In fact he leaned against the bit, as though he thrilled to race!
He staggered, stumbled, almost fell, but then regained his pace.
A sharp pain shot through Gus’ frame, would this be his last ride?
An arrow had driven through the flesh of his leg, and deep into Big Jake’s side.
Gus could see that Jake was wounded deep, the blood gushed from the dun.
He knew t’was now or never, as he brace to quit the run.
He twisted in his saddle, as an arrow creased his face.
And much to his surprise, he saw just two braves in the race.
He tore the arrow from his leg, the blood gushed from the dun.
His empty carbine, cast aside, he drew his holstered gun.
The big gun bucked heavily in his hand, the dust boiled all around,
Big Jake fell with a mighty force, and lay still on the ground.
Silence fell across the land, far off the thunder rolled
Gus and Floe stood there alone . . . two warriors lay stone cold.
In Gus’ arms, Floe freely wept, and yes, a cowboy also cried
as they knelt and stroked Jake’s noble head.
And they watched him, as he died.
The cowboy came out of nowhere, and I shall not forget
chaps and shirt all caked with dirt, his face streaked blood and sweat.
Tears of joy for danger past, was shed at setting sun.
Tears of sadness too were shed . . . for Big Jake the line-back dun.
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
This is Josey and Dunny
The cowboy came out of nowhere, and I shall not forget!
His chaps and shirt all caked with dirt, his face streaked blood and sweat!
The story goes; his bride was stolen by Apache braves.
And Gus vowed that he’d never rest, ‘til they lay cold in their graves!
He pushed his big dun, day and night, with fears that he would fail
And suddenly as though Fate decreed, he rode across their trail
The warpath traveled north and west, straight toward the Mogollons,
and Gus gave Big Jake all the rein, and urged him steadily on!
Then suddenly a war cry, like thunder filled the land!
He saw the red man bearin’ down, his arrow creased his hand!
Gus realized his chance to live, was surly slim to none!
And then he saw Floe between two braves!
The odds were 6-1!
But the big dun seemed to understand, t’was the last race he would run.
And as he lengthened his mighty stride;
Gus prayed . . . and unsheathed his gun.
The Indians’ ponies, desert bred would test the big dun’s heart.
And Gus knew, Jake was worn and tried, before the race would start.
But Jake seemed nigh immortal as he thundered or the ground,
and Gus wheeled in his saddle, and cut three red men down!
Three braves now pressed him onwards, as he slowed Jake just a bit
the arrows rained about him, but not one scored a hit.
He checked the big dun once again, to lure them closer so,
to bring ‘em into better range, to keep from hittin’ Floe.
Why, he knew that he could lose those braves, if he let the big dun fly!
But to win the race . . . was to lose a fight . . . and let a loved one die!
Big Jake was wet with salty sweat, and his lather flew like rain!
His mighty gait did not abate, over miles of rough terrain.
In fact he leaned against the bit, as though he thrilled to race!
He staggered, stumbled, almost fell, but then regained his pace.
A sharp pain shot through Gus’ frame, would this be his last ride?
An arrow had driven through the flesh of his leg, and deep into Big Jake’s side.
Gus could see that Jake was wounded deep, the blood gushed from the dun.
He knew t’was now or never, as he brace to quit the run.
He twisted in his saddle, as an arrow creased his face.
And much to his surprise, he saw just two braves in the race.
He tore the arrow from his leg, the blood gushed from the dun.
His empty carbine, cast aside, he drew his holstered gun.
The big gun bucked heavily in his hand, the dust boiled all around,
Big Jake fell with a mighty force, and lay still on the ground.
Silence fell across the land, far off the thunder rolled
Gus and Floe stood there alone . . . two warriors lay stone cold.
In Gus’ arms, Floe freely wept, and yes, a cowboy also cried
as they knelt and stroked Jake’s noble head.
And they watched him, as he died.
The cowboy came out of nowhere, and I shall not forget
chaps and shirt all caked with dirt, his face streaked blood and sweat.
Tears of joy for danger past, was shed at setting sun.
Tears of sadness too were shed . . . for Big Jake the line-back dun.
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
This is Josey and Dunny
