He crossed the Cheyenne Plain Where Gordon had gone on before,

Along with Doc. Tremaine.

Sam Lawyer -- arms a flappin'

And floppin' like a sail Went foggin' and a fannin' up

The Dim and Dusty Trail I faintly hear an anvil,

And ringin' blacksmith tools : I wonder if Jack Hilton's there

A shoein' Spanish mules.

Bronson left the Deadman's\ creek

A "Ghost" upon the Wind. Doc Graham went from Agate

A followin' close behind. Bill Kelly went from Pumpkin creek

A trailin' old Tom Kane And Newman's quit the Lodgepole

To lead the Turks again.

Dick Bean could drive a herd of steers

Across the river Styx. But drivin' harnessed bronchos

Got him in a regular fix. When horses, harness, wagon,

They had all begun to "mill," Why Dick, he up and leaves them

On the Old Ash Hollow Hill.

With old association gone

Bratt didn't care a hoot 'Bout things along the Birdwood,

So they run him through the Chute With Keith and Barton on One Range

And maybe A. B. Hall, Or Chas. McDonald on another

Wouldn't do at all.

So Bratt, he said, no Bogy

Could scare one of his stamp, If he had men like Cody

Or Likens, in his camp. He'd hunt the scattered Dogies

And as he found his pals, He'd round 'em up and drive 'em in

To his Home Ranch Corrals.

I wonder if the old boys.

Join in the "round up mill :" I wonder if the bronchos

Are linin' the corral: And girls with merry laughter.