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pert? pi *;? r? 3 t ujbui eq+ ,._X0 0j!lBl(C|)9v.i- M p t g r io u ' axe n<3f 4 / y / Y *. ^ z ' . a , / / V & § 22 0 Q'.Way r BPv? i V € f* 'tar. Tp| v *,(&?*jSj^^-r?*- - Y OU have heard the stories, so often told, Of the '‘boomer” trails, in the days of old; Of stretches of cactus and dwarf mes-quite j And waterless -valleys and blinding heat; Of fairy peaks in a phantom West, With opal flashes upon their crest And taunting ribbons above it all, Like splashes of gold on a mystic wall. 'Forty-nine and a wagon train, Winding its way through a cheerless plain— A quick alarm and a circle swung By the plunging beasts at the wagon tongue; Fitful flashes from hot carbine At feathered heads on the desert screen; A shattered stave in ,a water keg And the fluid drained to a single dreg. jtfany a brave of a copper hue, Answered the call of his Manitou* Many a steed of a mongrel strain, Sprawled in the dust with a scream of] pain. Of a mother, dead at the smoking wheel; True to the urchin his hand caressed, Cooing its glee on the silent breast; And he tells of a grav%e in the desert sand And “ taps” to the honor of Buck Du­rand! * • * * * . * * * It is out there yet, in a "pasture” sink, That tepid pool at the canyon’s brink; But white-faced cattle, as fat as moles, Wander afar to the sweeter holes And the brown mescal and the dwarf mesquite Have- vanished away in the march of wheat; And the echoes awake, in the flush of morn, To the blatant shriek of a motor horn. Straight as a die— from East to West— In a smooth up-lift to the mountain crest, The white trail crosses the blue divide, To the mystic lures of the other side. Scarce out of sight of a village spires, Or the trailing plumes from a “ Mogul’s” fires; Mapped in the blood of an early day When the whiter man fought for the Right O’ Way! 4wt > ? W m m Suddenly, sharp through the crash of Up from the wreck on the littered ground, . . ,, . Comes the rending plea in a mother s s| n fiig And the plaintive wall of a baby's cries. Heart stone cold as his hand caresf1? f , The fevered babe at it s mother s W orld gone red as he swapped carbine For the battered shell of a dry canteen. Scene now shifts to a stretch of sand And the burrowing figure of Buck Du- Moleing his way to a canyon s brink That shelters a pool m a desei t sink. He chooses the dip of a shallow swal~, ^ d inches his way like a creeping _i g jxeil Unnoted by all, save a buzzard's eye, In narrowing circles against the sky* A s yet, unseen in the sweeping view From the look-out posts of the lurking Now, as his* nostrils greet the stench Of the pungent damp in his narrow trench; Nnw. as hia fingers grope afar And dig, deep jjQwn. in the .slgaming H i s w r i s t i s c l u t c h e d b y a. s t r a l _ G r i p p i n g a n d h o t a s a n i r o n h a n d . ! L i f t i n g fils h e a d In a s ta r t le d graze. He sees a face in the vapored naze, Leering and cruel, a face from Hell, Disputing his right to the desert well. Ana, on beyond, in the canyon s bed, Is a spotted pony, with drooping head; A Sioux, adrift from his warring band, Han challenged the courage o f Buck Durand, The battle Is fought In a voiceless wrath, White man and red, in a mooted path; Red man of sinew, white of brawn, Issue of death, while the son looked on The red man fights for a scalp of hair, The white man answers a mother a prayer; _ . .___ One with the lost of a beast Insane, One for his kind at the wagon train. a d H a lf * H o u r ? ??'f-rag8 B y Chiis, B. Clark, Jr. The buzzard, aloft, with his watchful ' eye, ? . . Narrows hhii*s ssw* ing In the copper sky; For ther n the ec of the desert la spring, u*1 igear made from a turkey’, n wing. Wond cr' \vhy I ftt 1 to restlest; c IvfoGm it i) linin' still and br attic aII iS fcarin' easy. But 1 JUII can't sleep tonigbi A in't rin caICttjit in rnv blanket*, Don* kn«)\Y why they feci so X Os ||' % W arblin* Jim a->ingin "All! It 4i l a uf If out 0hi guar Hard Hl A ^ I L . S a s % 1 a* sm m s a , 1 Am