Pull up a stool... have a cup'a Arbuckles 'n set a spell...
No Sniveling
I've heard the long 'n windy's
Bout the wind 'n rain or drizzle
Or sun so hot 'n brutal
'Made a cowboys eyeballs sizzle
But the common thread in all these tales
Is never, ever snivel
'NO SNIVELING' reads the sign
Above the bunkhouse door
'Take your whining someplace else
Or you won't cowboy here no more'
Complainin' may be one thing
That's just what cowboys do
But to 'cowboy up' 'n do it
Is the stuff that gets you through
The how the where the what 'n why
Of 'DO IT' rests with you
You might be tired and dirty
The ground is ter'ble stuff
Them cows may not cooperate
Bein' flushed out from the rough
But this is how you earn yer pay
When the doin' part gets tough
'NO SNIVELING' reads the sign
Above the bunkhouse door
Take your whining someplace else
Or you won't cowboy here no more
Then you'll tell your long 'n windy's
Back in camp when day is done
'Tween bites of bacon, beans 'n biscuit
Of how you got 'er done
But there's never any snivelin'
Just complainin' for the fun
I reckon tho that's how it is
When you're ridin' for the brand
Carryin' your own weight 'n water
Is what makes a man a man
There's no snivelin' allowed 'round here
If you want'a be a hand
'NO SNIVELING' reads the sign
Above the bunkhouse door
'Take your whining someplace else
Or you won't cowboy here no more'
On the Trail
Stampede
Back in the days of the great trail herds
In 1875
A great calamity occurred
Few barely did survive
I was ridin' for the brand
Known as the Lazy K
The whole damn outfit hadda wreck
It happened this a'way
We was comin' outta Texas
Bound for Abilene
Near three thousand head of longhorns
'Biggest herd I'd ever seen
Gettin' all these steers to market
Will be a big relief
Feedin' all them Yankee bellies
Hungry now, for Texas beef
'Had thirteen seasoned drovers
A trail boss among the best
We figured that our coosie too
Was the finest in the west
Juan Chavez had just rode out
'Took up post as my relief
'Told him there seemed nuthin' 'round
To cause him any grief
The flankers were all movin' in
To get the herd up tight
Then nighthawks like Chavez 'n them
Would circle 'round all nite
I'd finished up eight hours
Ridin' point ahead
Doubled up with Tommy Lane on swing
Won'drin what all we'd be fed
Just ridin' in to get some grub
Then curl up in my roll
We could smell the coffee
As we passed the picket pole
Then both of us dismounted
To the line we tied the leads Nodded to the wrangler there
Who'd see to the horses needs
I saw them dark clouds early on
Didn't pay 'em any mind
We never saw the static lightnin'
That'd bring the thunder in short time
"That don't look good" I said to Tom
The words 'barely left my mouth
Of a sudden, this black cloud formed up
'n came in from the south
'Bout then we heard a crack'n boom A bolt came from that cloud
A double fork that split the air
Like a cannon shot was loud
"Oh Gawd!" we said in unison
Not ten feet from my steed
When the ground began to tremble
I heard 'em yell "STAMPEDE!"
I turned around in mid-stride
I wer'nt the only one
To my pony on the picket line
Somebody hollered: "RUN!"
Them storm clouds over yonder
Just moved in mighty fast
Only took one clap a'thunder
Now them cows was comin' fast
'Saw two cowboys at the gallop
'Tried to haze with hat 'n gun
Just disappeared before my eyes
As they were overrun
Trail Boss hollered'; "Save Yourselves" That was his dyin' word
This wasn't just a section spooked
It was the whole damn herd
'Never did untie my pony
'Cut the lead loose with my knife
Then swung into the saddle
'n was ridin' for my life
The whole remuda just took off
I saw the wrangler fall
Just a kid about fifteen
'Went down, horse and all
Horses on the picket
Pulled stakes where they was tied
Got tangled up, no time at all
Then stumbled, fell 'n died
I reckoned if I flanked 'em
'n not ride straight ahead
I'd have a whole lot better chance
Of livin', than be dead
I put them spurs into my horse
Tho there may not been a need
She knew her own predicament
'n put on extra speed
I lost sight of Tommy
When it began to rain
Chavez was spurrin' straight ahead
I knew that was in vain
I could see the wagons canvas
Then I saw it shake 'n fall
Anybody still around it now
Stood no damn chance at all
Them cows was like a livin' river
Flowin' fast upon the ground
Overunnin' everything
God help any who went down
An awful sound came from the herd
Like the Devil had a voice
No force on earth could turn 'em now
Escape's my only choice
The pounding of twelve thousand hooves
Was transferred up my spine
A maddened, snortin' monster now
Was closin' fast behind
Appearin' just ahead a'ways
Was this little hump of hill
I think the Lord just put it there for me
I think I always will
Standin' in the stirrups
I galloped to the crest
Reinin' in my pony then
'n prayin' for the best
Them cattle split around it
I was firin' off my gun
The only thing that I could do
There was no place else to run
Then suddenly it's over
I set my saddle just the same
As a few more strays came runnin' by
I tried to see what all remained
I could hear some horses screamin'
A few cows were lowin' round
Lookin' for lost calves I'd guess
Upon this trampled ground
I never saw where Chavez went
When he ran on ahead
I didn't see him ridin' back
So I reckoned he was dead
I rode back thru the carnage
Of trampled men 'n crippled horse
Used my rifle twice in passin'
Endin' screams to my remorse
The hoodlum was all shattered
The chuck wagon on its side
Surrounded there by cowboys
Some, in their bedrolls where they died
I could only see their sad remains
All pounded in the mud
Not makin' out their features
In dark water mixed with blood
My pony was all nervous
Her eyes wide in her head
As we rode slowly thru the wreckage
And the carnage of the dead
My "Hallooo's" went all unanswered
Was I the only one?
T'was then I tried to signal
By firin' off my gun
The last shot I fired was answered
Tho, from very far away
Was it just an echo
Or had some survived this fray?
Then I heard another shot
I rode in that direction
There surely must be others
With whom I'd make connection
I holler'd out one more "Hallooo..."
T'ward the direction that it came
"Sweet Jesus, help me": 'came a voice
'T'was my partner, Tommy Lane
I found him then under his horse
Where that animal went down
Tryin' hard to raise his head
From the mud where he could drown
I dallied up my gut line
Snaked a hoof with a fast loop
I'd have to drag that horse off him
'Fore he drowned in that mud soup
"I don't think nuthin's broken" he said
"Nuthin's busted but my pride"
As I helped him up there from the mud
Then we both stood there 'n cried
"Lord God, are we the only ones?" I said I thought we were
"I need my roll 'n saddle bags": he said
"Help me get 'em off'a her"
It was black as pitch 'n rainin'
Thru lightin' flashes we could see
There were just some cows still millin' 'round
Of the hands... Just him 'n me
He shook his fish out in the rain
We used it for a tent
No tellin' where that herd was now
'n didn't care much where it went
Our outfit 'been run over
There's nuthin' left at all
We lit our pipes together 'n hardly talked at all
"Hallooo..." we heard a holler
"Can anybody hear?"
"Yeah we hear ya... come on in!"
I fired my last shot in the air
A yellow shadow then appeared
To hover in the rain
A drover with his slicker on
It was Elijah Paine
"I was ridin' drag; just comin' in
Never it seen it go that fast
I been ridin' for an hour now
For some sign of life at last"
"I got a horse behind me here
'Looks like your'n is done
I think it's Charlie Tanners
It was loose 'n on the run"
The rain was runnin' off his hat
'n drippin off his beard
T'was then I told him of the worst
Which he most likely feared
I found another slicker
In Tanners saddle roll
Tho I couldn't get much wetter
I was gettin' kind'a cold
Lane got up on Tanners horse
"Which way?" came out his mouth
We'd passed a ranch a day ago
"I reckon we'll head south"
We had to scavenge thru the camp
For things that we would need
Without committin' robbery
To that we were agreed
'"Too many here to bury
We'll haf'ta let 'em be
We gotta ride 'n get some help
First opportunity"
We never had a morning sun
Just a dismal, foggy light
To a scene most like a battlefield
A most disturbing sight
All of us were vet'rans tho
We'd seen such sights before
'n hoped to never see again
Since back then in the war
'Found some paper and a pencil
Thought best to leave a note
"3 survivors heading south!"
"Stampede" Is all I wrote
The Devils Cantina
'Twas off the road aways a bit
A few miles from Tucson
It had some shade tho from this sun
As the day was gittin' on
I never noticed it before
When e're I passed this way
But I just had a certain urge
Right curious I'd say
It really didn't look like much
Just a flat adobe shack
A hitchin' post right in the front
With a stable 'round the back
I could hear a fiddle playin'
As I turned off that road
There was four horses saddled up
'n one with a full load
A trough was filled with water
'Neith that hitchin' rail
With a little roof to shield the sun
For these horses off the trail
I hitched my horse 'longside 'em all
'Went thru the single door
Blinkin' in the sudden darkness
I traversed the bare dirt floor
The bar as such, was just a plank
Between old barrels there
That fiddle kept a playin'
Tho I couldn't tell from where
I couldn' see for nuthin'
As I stood there in the gloom
No lantern nor a candle
Was lit inside that room
That fiddler was a playin' tho
Like his fiddle was on fire
It just kept on gitten faster
'n the pitch was gettin' higher
Then of a sudden it just quit
The silence was a shock
The only sound that I could hear
Was the tickin' of a clock
Then a figure stood before me
Dunno where that he'd come from
'Gave me such a start that I
Was reachin' for my gun
"Theres no cause for that, cowboy.."
The gloomy figure said
The clock I'd heard stopped tickin'
"'Don't you know you're dead?"
"It's time to pay the fiddler
I hope you liked the tune... Then suddenly I was aware
Of others in this room
There was a pair of cowboys
Outlaws like as not
They both had rope burns on their necks
'n looked like they'd been shot
Then I saw the woman
She sat there all alone
Her throat'd been slashed from ear to ear
The wound went to the bone
Another was a soldier
He stood against the wall
An arrow stickin' from his chest
A scene that said it all
"I'm dead... the hell you say..."
My hand went for my gun
I may as well'd been grabbin' air
I turned around to run
But now there seemed no way out
The doorway'd disappeared
An icy chill went up my spine
My anger turned to fear
"There's no way out now cowboy"
The figure had a book
"This is the ledger of your life
Would you care to take a look?"
It's time to pay the fiddler
Here's your whole life as told
This ledger contains full accounts
The payment is your soul
I could see the book now
My name on top of every sheet
Every good thing I ever done
'n all the bad, complete
"Just wait a bit, I'll count 'em up..."
"Now you hold on" I said
"I come in here to get a drink
Now you tellin' me I'm dead?"
"Oh yes!" he said quite slowly
Two bullets in the back
You never knew what hit you
In that ambush attack"
"It's quite alright to feel surprised' Said the soldier by the wall
"At least I saw it coming
But it didn't hurt at all"
All I wanted was a drink
A whisky or a beer
Y'all have had your Gol'durn laff
Now let me outt'a here
"Ya better let him read the book
Or else you'll miss the stage
That's what we're all a'waitin' for..."
My anger turned to rage
My gun hand worked in earnest now
But passed thru my pistol clean
Then I swung my fist with all my might
At the figure I first seen
T'was like swingin' at a shadow
Fog was made of sterner stuff
"I dunno what the hell is goin' on
But I believe I've had enuff"
The woman was the next to speak
She made a gurglin' sound
"Take it easy cowboy... Just listen and sit down"
The figure at the bar began
To tally my accounts
Counting up the good 'n bad
'Assigning the amounts
I saw him nod his head a bit
Still starin' at that book
Then he raised his face to me
A horrifyin' look
From under that sombrero
Gleamed red and evil eyes
Then I knew this was no human
And this was no disguise
You've come to the right place
There's nothing more to do
You'll take a seat within my coach
You'll pay the fiddler too
"Who the hell's this fiddler
And what am I to pay?"
"The fiddler would be me, cowboy...
Allow me now to play"
A fiddle came from nowhere It gleamed like campfire coals
His bow was just a blur of sparks
"This tune is for your souls"
And then the fiddler plucked that bow
And played like one possessed
He made it scream 'n howl so loud
My mind was in arrest
I dunno how long that hellish wail
Went screamin' in my ears
But every note that fiddler played
Just magnified my fears
Of a sudden that foul music stopped
I heard my own loud scream
I sat there bathed in awful sweat
It all had been a dream
I broke camp 'n packed my roll
Threw the coffee on the fire
'Saddled up my horse 'n rode
The hell away from thar
T'was gettin' close to dark again
That's when I heard it plain
The sound of that damned fiddle
Off the road there once again
I saw that same Cantina
The horses tied outside
That's when I spurred my horse's flanks
As fast as I could ride
I made it into Tucson
Where folks there told the tale
Of a young cowboy found murdered
Out yonder, on that trail
Somebody paid the fiddler
I'm glad it wasn't me
It was I learned much later
Mistaken... identity
They caught the man that did it
'Fore they hung him all he'd say
He just was sorry for the fact
He'd killed the wrong cowboy that day
� William E. Shaw 19 Sept. 2009
Picture Rocks, Arizona
I can't go back to Mexico
She said; 'Via Con Dios' with a grin
As I climbed into the saddle
While her daddy's whole damn outfit
Was lookin' for me for a battle
So how was I to know her daddy
Was some Mexican Grandee
I just had her for a night
They're all the same to me
Just some fun at the Fiesta
Down around Nogales
I didn't know she was a Spanish princess
From some Casa Grande Rancho palace
I thought she's prob'ly twenty
'Come to find out she's fifteen
Somebody told her daddy
Her brothers too, so it would seem
Oh, there's no doubt about it
This cowboy'd not go to any jail
'Best I could hope for was a bullet
With those loco charro's on my tail
I reckon I'm a scoundrel
'Plied her up with cactus juice
All that Mescal 'n Tequila
Would make a saint get loose
Oh, a bunch of 'em come at me
A'yellin' 'n a'shootin'
I lit outta there right quick
I really was a'scootin'
Well, I fin'ly crossed the border
Somewhere west of ol' Lochiel
Got up on that Royal Road
'n got quit of that ordeal
I can't go back to Mexico
I can never take that chance
For all I know, the Federales
Would make me do the hanged mans dance
So, I'll stay in Arizona
For all my sportin' life
'Determine if they're old enuff
'n not somebody's wife
'Ain't no drought of sportin' women
Ya gotta just know where to go
But no matter the temptation
I'll stay outta Mexico
Perry Owen was a real Arizona Sheriff in Holbrook. Hollywood couldn't have invented a more dashing figure of a frontier Sheriff than Perry Owen.
There were no SWAT Teams, negotiators, or the like. There was only guts 'n determination. This event is real.
'Commodore Perry Owen'
Tall 'n lean with long hair flowin'
To the Blevins house he was a'goin
A Warrant in his pocket 'n badge a'showin'
Rides the Sheriff Perry Owen
Arizona lawman
At a livery stable 'cross the way
He left his horse
And walked away
Hist'ry would be made that day
He had no way to know
The Blevins house had two front doors
He knocked on one as a matter of course
Who'd know that knock'd be met by force
He didn't hesitate
Perry Owen backed away
His Winchester came into play
He blew the gunman in the door away
There'd be three more to go
Women screamed and babies cried
A whole family of 'em lived inside
A shooter from a window tried
(That was .... Blevins 'n he damn near died)
Shot thru the wall where he tried to hide
From Sheriff Perry Owen
A figure jumped thru the kitchen window glass
Gun in hand 'n runnin' fast
A horse was felled by an errant blast
Then Owen fired and killed his ass
Dropped him like a stone
The Blevins boy grabbed his daddys gun
Out the front door, he made his run
To avenge what Perry Owen done
His momma screamed "Don't do it son"
He ran past her anyway
Didn't matter 'he's 15 or not
Owen fired a single shot
Killed him dead there on the spot
That was the finish of the lot
For Sheriff Perry Owen
Death of Johnny Ringo
Johnny Ringo was an outlaw
Leader of a cowboy gang
His death is still a mys'try
Never shot 'n didn't hang
No, the hist'ry books all tell us
That wasn't how he died
The official cause of death presumed
Was one of suicide
Shot himself with his Colt pistol
Serial number, 722
I think that there's another cause
Frank Leslie might'a too
Y'see these two'd been drinkin'
And... in some backstreet Chinese den
They might'a both been smokin' dope
Opium, was legal then
They'd both been seen together
Onna binge for 'bout a week
'Fore they found Ringos dead body
Down 'round Turkey Creek
I figure they was camped out
Near where his corpse was found
'Cause Ringo had his boots off
His foot, a rag was wrapped around
There's a two inch hole in Ringos skull
Goin' in 'n comin' out
Not half inch, like a .45 would do
That's what this poems about
A piece of scalp was missin' too
I reckon that's a clue
That fatal wound was near to what
A miners hammer, ought'a do
An ore hammer's kind'a like a pick
Some have a chisel blade on one side
But the pointy end is on the other
That's how he must'a died
The pick end on them hammers
Was 'bout two inches square
I figure that's what made the hole
'n the blade end took the hair
Now, Ringo was a gunman
That was, a given fact
The killer had to use surprise
To carry out this act
Could'a been some kind'a argument
Maybe neither one was heeled
Could be, he's passed out sleepin' on the ground
At the time his fate was sealed
Maybe it was Buckskin Frank
Who made that fatal whack
A glancin' blow took that chunk of scalp
Then the pick end, in that attack
'Could be, that it was wildly swung
'n might'a cracked his skull
'Course that effect we'll never know
There was no exam of that, at all
Then the coup de gras delivered
Struck with force, deliberately
Leavin' there a two inch hole
As those findin' him would see
Now Ringo had some vi'lent friends
From whom, Frank Leslie couldn't hide
This can't look like a murder
So he faked a suicide
Prob'ly murdered in the dark
'Cause when Ringos body's found
The one odd thing they noticed
Was his gun belt upside down
I reckon that the killer
Buckled that gun rig on, in haste
Reversin' there the buckle
That was fastened at his waist
Oh, Ringo had been shot alright
There was brains stuck in that tree
But that shot was thru the same damn hole
That pick made previously
Whoever done it, propped him up
Then shot him thru that hole
The motive wasn't robbery
There wasn't nuthin' stole
His body posed there with the gun
Hung up in his watch chain
His finger on the trigger
With that big hole thru his brain
Them .45's recoil is harsh
In his lap it'd never land
'Spec'ly if he shot himself
It'd kicked clear of his hand
By the time they found the body
It'd turned black 'n thick with flies
No coroner was summoned
It's hot in mid-July
But this was Johnny Ringo
No doubt they're glad he's dead
Didn't matter much he's murdered
Or how that hole got in his head
Not far from the tree they found him in
They dug a shallow hole
Dragged what's left down into it
'n God have mercy on his soul
This here's my own theory
Not one I've heard around
T'was a miners pick, not suicide
That struck John Ringo down
The idea for The Gunman just came to me outt'a the blue. I was fortunate enough to have a pen 'n some scrap paper handy and put a few lines together. It happens that way... Can't explain it. It didn't begin with the ending it has in mind... 'Can't explain that either. I began visualizing this little story while tryin' to go to sleep one nite. 'Jumped outta bed 'n started writing longhand. It happens that way. This one is my wife's favorite.
The Gunman
When this boy was barely 17
He'd vowed to make a name
So he practiced as a gunman
A quick sure way to fame
One day when he was ready
He rode on into town
He'd find who was the fastest
And then he'd gun him down
So then he hailed a fella
Hollered it right out
"Who's the fastest gun in town?"
"I want him pointed out"
So the cowboy laughed and told him
Pointed to the bar
"I saw him just go in there
So he can't be very far"
He hitched his horse then at the rail
Went thru those swingin' doors
Pushed on past the gamblers
The cowboys and the whores
Striding straight up to the bar
For the man he's lookin' for
Found him drinkin' whiskey there
'n knocked his hat off to the floor
The fella turned and looked at him
Like he'd grown another head
The bar crowd fell into a hush
To listen what was said
The fella pushed his long hair back
'n reached down for his hat
Placed it back upon his head
Drained his glass just after that
"I don't know what you're thinkin' son
But this advice I'll give
Just leave now 'n walk away
You've just begun to live"
That youngster then assumed the stance
His hand above his gun
"You're the one who killed my brother!"
(Tho he never had a one)
He was all a'tremble
From his fingers to his wrist
But he never could imagine
The speed of that mans fist
Those cowboys then just picked him up
And threw him in the street
'Tossed his hat out after him
And laughed at his defeat
Embarrassed at his actions
With the long haired man that day
He packed his roll 'n saddlebags
Then swiftly rode away
His ideas of a gunman
Were left there in the dust
Now that gun hangs on the mantle
Dull with age and rust
His grandchildren play at his feet
He has a loving wife
It could have ended all that day
When the long hair spared his life
Whatever was he thinkin'
It still gives him a shock
The day he went in that saloon
'n knocked the hat off Bill Hickok
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