The Chase

There were only five of them that day

A horseback on the crew.

A puncher and two young ropers,

The rancher and a buckaroo.

Out gathering a few wild cattle

They had missed along the way.

Less than a dozen of them total.

It ought'nt to be a long day.

But that's the last and famous words By many a man my friend,

That leaves a wife a cookin dinner

And says he'll be back by then.

'Cause she knows all too good and well

That since the clock's invention,

They ain't a cow could tell the time

And a cowboy has no intention.

So off they go with horses and gear

To the place they was last seen.

It was desert country mostly,

rocky canyons hard and mean.

They set them up some portable corrals

In which to catch the cows.

But though they knew they could do the job,

They weren't exactly sure how.

They rode and rode for what seemed like miles.

No cows but plenty of tracks.

Some went this way and others that

'Til they just about quit and went back.

Then all of a sudden the puncher seen 'em,

"Twelve o'clock" he said.

But the cows ran like deer,

and the riders followed,

An' givin' the horses their heads.

They were off like a race as fast a can be

Through breaks and rocks and rills.

Many a young cow puncher would thrive

To ride for such a thrill.

But the cattle kept runnin for over a mile,

Like rebels at an inserection

But the riders followed on as fast as could be.

After all, they was headed the right direction.

When they jumped off a cliff the horses just followed.

Each rider was holdin his breath.

They knew that if by chance they should stumble,

it surely would mean life or death.

Up and down then up again,

The ground flashed by in a blur.

Pounding of hooves, blowing of nostrils,

Creak of leather and jingle of spur.

Then all of a sudden the cattle pulled up

To breathe at the top of the rise.

Though struck with relief by the short little break,

They couldn't believe their eyes.

Still catching their breath, but to their dismay

The cattle returned to the race.

The riders were off like a shot as before

Running hard with the wind in their face.

As horseshoe hit rocks how the sparks would fly.

The puncher's horse almost went down.

And though he recovered the puncher was thinkin',

"I may take a job back in town".

Then the smallest of calves bushed up in the shade

A shakin and heavy of breath.

The rancher and puncher both stopped there too

A fearin they'd ran him to death.

So the ropers and buckaroo rode on ahead

and followed the rest of the bunch.

"They'd get 'em all loaded before too long",

The puncher had him a hunch.

So for two more hours, they nursed the calf along

With his head and fore leg through the rope.

But the heat and the dry was gettin to the point

Where the horses would be dog food or soap.

After a while moving steady and slow

'Cause the calf stopped often to rest,

They figured that if they were back home by supper

Alive they'd be doing their best.

So, when they got close enough back to the truck,

The rancher rode on ahead.

The puncher held on to the rope as that calf

Just laid down and rested his head.

Finally returning they loaded the calf,

And their horses, and headed for home.

They were just glad they had stuck with the fight

And didn't leave the calf there alone.

They did get back home with food on the table,

All cattle and horses on hay.

They slept good that night a little worse for the wear,

But ready to start a new day.

I've rode 'cross this country for many a year

And I'm proud to say I've rode with the best.

But on that fine day,

I'm not ashamed to say,

"I'm sure glad that calf stopped to rest."