V.

'Twas a fairish spot fur to camp a' night; An' chipper I felt, tho' sort of skeer'd That them two cowboys with only me, Couldn't boss three thousand head of a herd. I took the fust of the watch myself; An' as the red sun down the mountains sprang, I roll'd a fresh quid, an' got on the back Of my peart leetle chunk of a tough mustang.