Colin F. Jones

~ One Spur And The Arrow ~

~ 346 ~

Now One Spur rode alone,
With a heavy heart of sadness
Hope for Deacon still alive
Had gone with all his gladness

~ 347 ~

The great horse tired with every mile
His limbs were cut, and wet
But in his bold stride remained a power
That would gain the township yet.

~ 348 ~

As the days long shadows fell
Man and horse went on
Soon all the suns bright light
Would fade and would be gone

~ 349 ~

Swaying tiredly in the saddle
The strength from One Spur seeped
As across the slowly cooling plain
The evening shadows peeped

~ 350 ~

And gentle words unwasted
From man to horse alone
In a land of vastly nothing
Were words from friendship grown

~ 351 ~

For friendship grows from hardship
Between a horse and man
And loses its first memory
Where this fine thing began

~ 352 ~

For here the mute and master
Faced hopelessness alone
Where many had gone before them
To shrivel to the bone

~ 353 ~

But how could courage muster
A greater thing than trust
That grows within Brave One spur
For this horse in powdered dust

~ 354 ~

For trust makes living hopeful
And dying an easier thing
Unthought of strength produces
When to life and death they cling

~ 355 ~

But the now the powerful stallion
Could barely raise a trot
And still the vast land spread
In a hundred mile lot

~ 356 ~

But slowly the miles passed by
And slowly the trail grew hard
For now the strain was telling
On the stockman and his pard

~ 357 ~

But the township now in sight
Was a spec to the watchful eye
But the eyes of One Spur could not see
Nor could he raise a cry

~ 358 ~

His head lay now in his horse’s mane
His arms just dangled down
For he had lost all sense of life
All prayers and hopes had drowned

~ 359 ~

But the valiant horse strove on
And caught the scent of Town
His ears pricked; his nostrils blew
Was this where they were bound?

~ 360 ~

The people of the town came near
To help One Spur down from leather
To revive him while he mumbled
How the three had rode together

~ 361 ~

“God speed you to poor Bigsby now
For he’s dying on the trail
Then look for Deacon and for stokes…”
Ones Spurs face grew pale

~ 362 ~

The townsmen and the doctor
Soon found the moving herd
And met Deacon on the trail
With his bay all badly burned

~ 363 ~

John stokes had returned
When his stallion Sholt had tired
And was leading out the cattle
Clean and freshly attired

~ 364 ~

So Brigsby’s life was saved
By One Spur and the Arrow
For love and trust and friendship
Was a trail not so very narrow.