The American cowboy is an icon of the Old West
The American cowboy is an icon of the old west. An icon that becomes real and is kept alive in the minds of youth and age alike as dreams help each of us live again an era that largely began after the end of the Civil War or as it is known in the south, The War of Northern Aggression, and by the mid-1890s would find much of the land fenced and railroads reaching farther, bringing an end to the cattle drives that required large numbers of men and horses.
The lure of the old west probably lives in the minds of us old timers more than it ever will live in the minds of today’s youth. And though we experience occasional resurgence of that almost magical time, thru county fairs, rodeos, and sometimes a new movie about the west or cowboy life, the excitement tends to wain pretty quickly.
Yet, the day of the cowboy has an allure that captivates the soul of the world.
The child-like hero worship is exhibited in young and old as we visualize ourselves astride a spirited horse pounding across waving grassland prairies, the wind blowing in our face as it tugs at our hat. And in the distance, a herd of wild horses with nostrils flaring tumble over the crest of a nearby hill into their safe haven valley below, or the smell of wood smoke that signals an Indian camp hidden in the maze of canyons beyond the horizon, or finding yourself slapping the dust from your hat and vest that accumulated there as you trailed a herd up the Chisholm Trail.
These and many more scenarios play out in our fantasies, allowing us to justify our love for an American Icon. Though the era of the cattle drive cowboy was short-lived, the impact would prove to be far reaching and long lasting.
This poem was inspired by a Marless Fellows painting that showed cowboys riding in the dust of a cattle herd they were moving up the trail
It’s The Cowboy Way
It’s a dang good life! But…
What’s on a cowboy’s mind? As he’s ridin’ behind
a slow movin’ herd, with his vision a bit blurred.
Just what is he thinkin’?
Could it be what’s up ahead, as that dust stirs up red
out toward that water hole, just past the knoll.
Make yore eyes go to blinkin’.
Probably some wild mustangs, way that ol’ dust hangs,
an’ I got a hunch, it’s a dang shore big bunch,
that’s down there a-drinkin’.
Just our dern bad luck, more’n likely churned it to muck,
but these ol’ cows won’t shrink away from a muddy drink,
‘cuz they’ve worked up a thirst!
That ol’ lead cow’s a-shufflin’, an’ she shore ain’t a- bluffin’.
When it’s water she smells, you can say yore farewells,
‘cuz she’s gonna get there first!
Yep! She’s a- runnin’ pell mell, ‘spect they’ll drink fer a spell.
Give me time fer a breather, got no choice neither,
they was purty dry.
Wonder where them ponies go? Somewhere on that plateau
would be my guess. That notch gives them access.
I know they didn’t fly.
Last time we rode out here, when we was huntin’ fer deer,
I seen ‘em comin’ outta that bole, near the water hole, we took a stand nearby.
Dang! Them cows are startin’ to roam, ‘bout time to head ‘em home. Be late time we get there. Glad I’m ridin this ol’ mare ‘cuz she ain’t gonna bail.
Some of that trail is rough, but, it ain’t gonna be that tough, tho its gettin’ hard to see, we’ll foller that ol’ Cherokee ‘cuz he shore knows this trail.
Wal, that ol’ suns a-beamin’ an’ I’m sorta dreamin’,
just sittin’ here a-straddle, rockin’ in my saddle.
Shore hard to wake up.
But I hear that noisy ol’ windmill, jest over that hill,
we’ll soon be gettin’ in, run them ol’ cows in a pen,
an’ I‘ll pour me a hot cup.
…I’m shore glad we’re done!
© Ol’ Jim Cathey
It’s pretty awesome what a daydream will bring to mind!
Join us at First Baptist Church Marlin, Sunday morning.
God bless each of you and God Bless America!