He was trailin' o'er The Ridge.

The Maycock brothers, John and Joe,

Each passed along The Way. John dropped in from the sagebrush,

And Joe from Canada. And boys, a waitin', millin' 'round.

For calls to come up higher. Saw Colonel Pratt fade up The Trail

A settin' her afire.

Then from the Runnin' Water

Went the Earnests -- Jim and Wilse, And from the Mitchell valley

Went a ridin' John R. Stilts, Peg Wiggins went from Torrington,

And Extract Smith, be blowed With Gunnysack Pete, thru the dusk

A burnin' up The Road.

Then Wright, who lived on "Pumpkin Cieek'

We always called him "John," Said, "Boys, I guess it's quittin' time

And I'll be movin' on." And Sandy Ingraham spread his hand

HISTORY OF WESTERN NEBRASKA

And guessed he'd quit the game, While Peters cashed his checks in, And said he'd do the same.

They saw a shadow foggin'

And a fannin' up The Vale "It's Johnny Boyle," they shouted,

"That's the way he hits The Trail." Then Haig, he quits the Two-bar,

To travel on The Road, A lookin' for old Snodgrass,

McShane and Mark M. Coad.

He'll find them sittin' in the game

In good old fashioned style, And, maybe, lookin' on, he'll find

His neighbor, Milton Byal. There's Tusler, and~Sam Fowler,

And Laing, who lived upon The "Lorren's Fork" a plavin'

With old Doc Middletom

It sure is quite an outfit

Of saddle boys that goes. Jim Brantner, of White river,

And little Tim Montrose. And they have caught Lew Saunders