11

Felt you holdin' to my boot-leg,
Slattin' in the roarin' gale,
So, to save you, I worked for'ard,
Got the nigh hoss by the tail.
Miles on miles we tore on blindly,
Had to let the critters roam,
Till, at last, they turned their noses
To the north, and towards their home.
We went charging down a valley,
Stopped in something soft and deep;
Wagon box and you and me, dear,
Landed in a mixed-up heap.
Both the hosses' legs was buried
And I knew that that was proof
We had 'lighted on the top of
Old Jim Davis's dug-out roof.


12

Now, old Jim was sleeping soundly
Close beside his faithful wife;
Peace had smoothed his savage wrinkles,
All his dreams were free from strife.
He was safe from ragin' cyclones,
Wolves could never force his door,