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Show Joe Moulton in the center, Drove a combination team, The leaders, they were horses, And he fed them upon beans; The wheelers they were oxen, and very hard to pass, The wagon was a Mitchell, The driver was an ass. When we reached the Dry Gulch, We met an aged squaw, She walked up to Bill Bowman, And held out her wrinkled paw, Saying: "Maybe so we marry, And raise a Wyne seed." So they started out for Los Pinos To draw their rings and beads. And now my song is ended, Our trip is ended, too I hope you like the words I've writ, Because you know they're true. Our empty rigs we'll trail back home, All trusting to our fate, The Indians are on the War path, and the Season's getting late. Another excellent example of the poetic output of nineteenth century Utahns is the work of a second immigrant pioneer, Hans Peter Iverson. One of his poems, an autobiography in verse, is printed in another section of this volume. His work, along with the cowboy poetry that was eventually written by his grandchildren, illustrates that in some Utah families, poetic reminiscences have developed into a family tradition. Cowboy poets in Utah, like folk poets everywhere, write about what they know best. Many of Utah's cowboys are familiar with range work, particularly those from southeastern Utah or the Arizona Strip, and some of the cow-punchers have had experience with trail drives. But, since Utah is not known as a range cattle state, the majority of Utah's cowboys gained their experience working in situations where farming and even dairying or sheepherding comple- Cowboy Poetry From Utah 17 |
