It was up in the Bad Lands, I was rangin’ alone,
I first heard of this cayuse, The Ridge Runnin’ Roan.
He was fleet as a deer and as tough as a mule,
Pretty as a picture and nobody’s fool.
High headed and leggy, he was just built for speed;
The cowboy that roped him could own that there steed.
I figured the reason this bronk was still free
Was he never had crossed a mustanger like me.
So I went right to work and I got me a pair
Of the best saddle horses that ever wore hair.
I hunted that mustang and I took to his trail;
When he hit for the ridges he was packin’ the mail.
I never did head him nor turn him about,
I aimed to just trail him till I wore him plum out.
Then for five or six days I gained not an inch;
He was wearin’ no crutches and that was cinch.
He was tough as a boot and as wise as a fox;
He kept on the ridges and a-dodgin’ the rocks.
I’d trail him till dark and at dawn I’d begin.
Till I got pretty weak and my horses got thin.
I followed those tracks till I got stiff and sore,
But he stayed right in front where he kept makin’ more.
Then I got so I felt like a tired, locoed sheep
A-trailin’ that fuzztail and a-losin’ my sleep.
He went short for water, with no time to graze,
While I camped on his trail for seventeen days.
Then he got awful gaunt–he was wearin’ out fast,
Till he looked like a ridge runnin’ ghost at the last.
He was placin’ his feet like he’s walkin’ on tacks,
Till I saw he was leavin’ fresh blood in his tracks.
So I started to crowd him and turned him around,
He quit the rough ridges and hunted soft ground.
I shook out a loop when we got to a flat,
I threw a riata and it fit like my hat.
He sure gave up quick when I jerked out the slack,
Then I noticed some old saddle marks on his back.
I had done myself proud and I felt like a champ
When I got him all haltered and headed for camp.
He was strikin’, and kickin’, and plum fightin’ mad.
I could see he was spoiled and sure enough bad.
Well, I got him at home and into the corral,
I fed him some hay and some oats for a spell.
When he got fat and strong and I gave him the news,
I hog-tied him down and nailed on some shoes.
Then I put on the bridle and I fixed it to fit,
It wasn’t the first time that he’d champed a bit.
I threw on my saddle and I cinched it right down.
Then I crawled his old carcass–I was headed for town.
I drug out my quirt, ‘case to me he looked tame,
Like a twenty-two pistol on a forty-five frame.
I got a deep seat and I froze to the cantle,
I jabbed in my meat-hooks clear up to the handle.
He let out a bawl and he went from that spot
Like the ground where he stood had sudden got hot.
He topped that first jump with a shimmy and shake,
Like a-poppin’ the head from a live rattlesnake.
Then he went to sun-fishin’, he sure was a peach,
And I turned from a wild-cat into a leech.
He was mad as a hornet and I guess he saw red,
He was handy afoot and his feet wasn’t lead.
I thought I was up on the hurricane deck
Of an earthquake and a cyclone a-havin’ a wreck.
I was doin’ my best and was just gettin’ by,
But he’s doin’ better with blood in his eye.
He was duckin’, and dodgin’, and a-walkin’ the dog,
He had me so dizzy I was lost in the fog.
And then he got busy and the things that he did
Was like a volcano that had blew off the lid.
He was bawlin’, and gruntin’, a-humpin’ the hump;
He turned wring side out with every new jump.
At ridin’ bad horses I’m no crippled squaw,
But he showed some tricks that I never had saw.
With a giratin’ jump he goes over the gate,
And I grabbed for the horn, but I was too late.
He hit with a jar that ‘most shed his hair;
It busted me loose and I quit him right there.
Of all the bad horses that I ever rode,
None was like him, for he seemed to explode.
He busted me up and I’m still stiff and lamed–
That Ridge Runnin’ Outlaw will never be tamed.
The last time I saw him, he was crossin’ a bridge,
He was high-tailin’ back to his favorite ridge.
I’ve borrowed an outfit as I’ve none of my own–
My riggin’ ran off on the Ridge Runnin’ Roan.
(Curley Fletcher)
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Based on Topics: Home Poems, Sleep Poems, Water Poems, Hair Poems, Fool Poems, Madness Poems, Reasoning Poems, Dogs Poems, Media & News PoemsBased on Keywords: champ, forty-five, leavin, twenty-two, roan, hornet, lamed, corral, cinch, squaw, wearin