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RACES WITH GRIZZLY
by Verlin Pitt
©2000
I was ridin' fence lines in the high mountain pines,
when I ran across this
bear.
As big as a wall and just as tall,
he stood there sniffin' at the mountain
air.
That old Griz' called the area his
and he was in no mood to barter.
If he was lookin' for a fight in the mornin' light,
then he would have to
start 'er.
The horse I was on spun around and was gone,
cuttin' a trail through the
trees.
We were headed for a wreck when a branch caught my neck,
and I landed on my
knees.
I was all alone with my horse now gone,
that is, except for that bear.
It hit my mind that I was in a bind
in the form of jaws and hair.
Those razor sharp claws at the tip of his paws
gave him a real edge.
I'd be fightin' for my life without a knife,
it was a bet I couldn't hedge.
It's a fearsome trail with a bear on your tail
and your rifle's tied to the
saddle.
A thousand pounds against you and sharp teeth too,
guess who'll win the battle.
With no weapons at hand to make a last stand,
I made a hasty retreat.
If you ain't aware about the speed of a bear,
well, bears are hard to beat.
I was movin' fast and there at the last
I had delusions I just might win.
The foul breath on my back proved he was narrowin'
the gap and closin' in.
Still in the lead I increased my speed
and then I saw a tree.
To make my case it was big at the base
and where I needed to be.
At my high speed pace I barked my face
'cuz I was climbin' before I arrived.
That bear wanted me but I was high up a tree
and thankful that I'd survived.
Old Ephram was mad and gave it all he had
tryin' to knock that piney down.
I gave a rebel call as it began to fall
and I was runnin' when I hit the
ground.
Settin' the pace in a whole new race,
my life was on the line.
Right about here with the bear gettin' near,
I received a heavenly sign.
My hand brushed my hip and I felt the grip
of a Colt forty four hangin' low.
From a Grizzly bear's dinner to a sudden winner
can give you a warm fuzzy glow.
In the sudden onslaught I had clean forgot
about that old forty four.
One shot to the heart gave that bear a start
and I followed it with five
more.
That bear went down runnin' from all of my gunnin'
and came to a stop in a
pile.
Where that bear lay dead it could be me instead
'cuz I'd never have made another mile.
Three Indians on a hill were sittin' real still
and they'd watched the whole darn show.
When they figured it was done they came down on the run
and then rode in kinda slow.
They rode single file and the leader had a smile
and spoke English pretty
good.
They'd seen my gun and yet I'd tried to run
against the King of the piney
wood.
They thought me brave for the chance I gave
that bear before I went and used
my gun.
But If I'd remembered that gun was there,
I wouldn't have
played fair and tried to run.
To my eternal shame they gave me an Indian name
for my brush with the Reaper.
"Races with Grizzly" is the name that they give me,
and I suppose I'll have to keep 'er.
One thing I know from this grizzly show
is bears are mighty fast.
It will be your ruin if you're racin' with a bruin
and you come in last.
DOG SOLDIER
by Verlin Pitt ©2000
He once stood there in the cool night air
and sang his ancient battle song.
When the eagles fly it's a good day to die
and be aware that life's not long.
He makes his stand on the prairie sand,
but the odds are five to one.
When he rides away on another good day,
five men lay dead in the sun.
On a high hill's crest he will face another test
for he sees the Longknives
there.
Three men ride hard as he sets his guard,
and the odds just don't seem fair.
The first to arrive is no longer alive
and he faces the other two.
All three lay dead as the sand turns red,
and he did what he had to do.
He lives by the law of fang and claw
and knows that he'll die free.
On some good day he will pass away
but that day is yet to be.
He'll guard his health by using stealth
and he moves without a sound.
The "Spirit Horse" will guide his course
to the happy hunting ground.
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