I got down from my horse
to make a small fire, to cut the chill.
Watching the herd,
from the crest of a small hill,
cold wind blew down from
the snow packed peaks above.
I turned my back to the ones I love.
The fire, always friendly, made
my mind drift to our start.
Swung up into the saddle
breaking my loving, brides heart.
My boys were by her, one on each side,
"Take care your Mama!" I cut my turn,"Let's ride!"
One last look and I saw the tears,
"You Boys may be ready, this time next year."
A tip of my hat brim,
her smile started to fade,"Sooner we get started, quicker, I'll
be home, in the shade!"
Lander, sat by the fire, always at my side.
"You remember ole Boy? When we started this ride?"
First glow, first light, the buttes in silhouette.
We scrubbed the fire, "We ain't made it, yet."
Back in the saddle, we came down to the herd.
Jack and Jenny were 'round and passed us,
all in a blur.
Yellow eyes watched from the scrub at the river.
Lander alerted, his shoulders shivered.
Jack and Jenny held, their own positions.
All night, the coyotes had waited,
to make their decision.
Lander met two and to both, death delivered .
Jack and Jenny scrambled, and calmed,
the nervous herd.
Old Tom came a runnin', shot three without word.
Lander returned, no worse for the wear.
Tom rode up and nodded, " Pretty quite
tonight, out there."
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