Thunder On The Prairie.

<bgsound src="thunderrolls.mid" loop="1"> <body> <p align="center"> <EMBED SRC="thunderrolls.mid" loop="1" width=50 Height=30 autostart="true">                                                                                                    <img border="0" src="thunde1.jpg" width="567" height="389" align="middle"></p> <p align="center">                                                                                                                       <br> <u><i>Thunder On The Prairie</i></u> by Frederick Remington</p> <p align="center"> <span style="font-size: 10.0pt; font-family: Arial"><i>   </i><b><br> <br> </b> </span><u><span style="font-family: Arial"><font size="5"><span style="text-decoration: overline"><b>THUNDER ON THE PRAIRIE</b></span><br> <br> </font></span></u><strong style="font-weight: 400"><font size="3"> <span style="font-family: Arial"> It happened down in Kansas<br>  in the cattle drive that year.<br>  We'd driven several thousand head<br> and Dodge was drawing near.<br> The men were feeling frisky<br> and the herd was movin'fine.<br> Ahead was Dodge and whisky--<br> woman, poker, wine.<br> <br> </span></font><span style="font-family: Arial"><font size="3">The cattle all were travelin' good.<br> Each paunch was filled with grass.<br> The stock had watered three hours back<br> at Conestoga Pass.<br> Cows are ploddin' animules;<br> but scare 'em, they get fast.<br> A thousand hoofs will jump as one<br> then swiftly thunder past.<br> <br> Some folks say a cowboy sings<br> to calm the skittish steers.<br> Others say a cowboy sings<br> to simply please his ears.<br> But put a cowboy in the dark<br> and like as not, he'll sing.<br> The reason matters little.<br> His song's a soothin' thing.<br> Rawhide Smith was singin'<br> as he circled on his rounds.<br> The cattle seemed t' cotton<br> to Rawhide's mellow sounds.<br> <i> "Whoopee ti yi yea. Git along little dogies.<br> It's your misfortune and none a' my own."<br> <br> </i></font></span></strong><span style="font-family: Arial"><font size="3"> <strong style="font-weight: 400">The night had cooled the prairie down.<br> It baked the whole day long,<br> but now the dust was kickin' up;<br> the wind was growin' strong.<br> Overhead and to the west<br> ominous black clouds<br> had formed above the skyline<br> and draped the moon in shrouds.<br> <br> </strong></font></span><strong style="font-weight: 400"> <span style="font-family: Arial"><font size="3">The storm was still a long way off;<br> its rumble barely heard.<br> The cattle all were layin' quiet;<br> with very few that stirred.<br> Save for streaks of lightening<br> showing cattle now and then,<br> you'd not have known two thousand steers<br> were there beside the men.</font></span></strong></p> <p align="center"><strong style="font-weight: 400"> <span style="font-family: Arial"><font size="3">Then a slashing bolt of lightening<br> gave the sky a ragged tear;<br> and a crashing jolt of thunder<br> exploded in the air.<br> Rawhide Smith was singin'<br> "<i>a whoopee ti yi yea</i>."<br> but while the man was singing,<br> he was prayin' all the way.<br> Blinding rain came pelting down,<br> obscuring all the herd.<br> You couldn't make out Rawhide;<br> and his song was barely heard.</font></span></strong></p> <p align="center"><strong style="font-weight: 400"> <span style="font-family: Arial"><font size="3">The thunder shook the country.<br> The herd jumped up as one;<br> and then, without exception,<br> each steer began to run.<br> The rain came down with fury,<br> bombarding every steer.<br> Rawhide Smith was caught up front;<br> with cattle in the rear.</font></span></strong></p> <p align="center"><span style="font-family: Arial"><font size="3"> <strong style="font-weight: 400">We looked around for Rawhide.<br> His slicker caught our sight.<br> He was trying to outrun<br> eight thousand hoofs in flight.<br> The lightening cast an eerie glow<br> upon each racing steer.<br> The prairie shook from pounding hoofs;<br> while I just shook from fear.<br> <br> Not till daybreak did we stop;<br> with Rawhide's fate unknown.<br> The trail looked like the wreckage<br> left  by Texas 'clones.<br> The cattle all were smeared with mud,<br> with tongues all lolling out.<br> Soon they started feeding<br> and milling all about.<br> Where was Rawhide?  Not around!<br> We couldn't find a trace.<br> It wasn't hard to track in mud;<br> and we searched everyplace.<br> <br>  And then we saw some yellow<br>  from the slicker Rawhide wore.<br>  We looked and found poor Rawhide<br> concealed by mud and gore.<br> Rawhide was a prairie man.<br> we buried him out here.<br> Lonesome--yet, not quite alone--<br> with echoes sounding everywhere.<br> <br> <i>"Whoopee ti yi yea. Git along little dogie.<br> I've unpacked my bedroll <br> and found a new home."<br> <br>                               Bette Wolf Duncan<br>                                   copyrigh1999 <br>     </i></strong></font></span></p> <p align="center"><font face="Arial"><a href="crstagecoach.htm">HOME</a>                <a href="ridingthewind.htm"> NEXT PAGE</a></font></p> </body>