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Show Then Merry, our foreman, tells about OF Hellion an' Silent Dave- How Dave was shoein' his Greybird hoss an' Greybird wouldn't behave An' Dave gits sore an' says to him, "Dammit, stand still, d'yuh hear?" Then he heard a scream an' glanced around an' his heart fair froze with fear For Marty, the boss's daughter, came screamin' toward the corral, OF Hellion chargin' behind her to gore her shore as hell. Unless pore Dave could reach her an' get her out o' the way. Then, around the end of the stockyard flashed a furry shape of gray. Straight for the nose of OF Hellion, Dave's dog Smokey flew, Sharp teeth slashed at nose an' flanks, heels an' belly too. An' the mad cow whirls an' goes fer Smoke with murder in her eye- An' Silent Dave reaches Marty with a sobbin' sort of sigh. He picks her up an' holds her tight an' makes tracks fer the gate. OF Hellion turns from Smokey, her eyes ablaze with hate, An' bellers her defiance when he worries her again, Kicks up her heels an' runs full speed after the two, an' then Dave reached the gate, helped Marty climb, an' turned to face the cow. Her lowered head an' tossin' horns are one yard from him now. He crouches low an' as she prods he leaps clean past her head, But one sharp horn ripped through his flesh an' pore Dave dripped red From a jagged wound below his knee clean up to his thigh. He tried to run, his leg give out, OF Hellion thundered by. Marty screamed an' hid her eyes from the awful sight she saw, But Smokey's teeth have found a hold behind OF Hellion's jaw. An' Dave, for all his failin' strength, manages to roll His self beneath the fence as her horns plow a hole Where he had been. Dave was safe but Smokey didn't know, OF Hellion's wicked poundin' hooves had laid pore Smokey low. Marty tumbles off the gate cryin' "Dave, Dave, are yuh dead?," Runs to his side an' shakes him an' tries to raise his head. But Dave lies still, face drawn an' white an' neither sees nor hears. Then Greybird, rope a-trailin', teeth bared an' flattened ears, Ignorin' Hellion's bloody horns, lets fly with his heels. He beats a tattoo on her sides an' she, ribs broken, wheels An' streaks it up the canyon bellerin' all the way. An' Greybird turns, head droopin', to the spot where Smokey lay. Cowboy Poetry From Utah 83 |