An Old West adventure novella told in verse by Quintin Peasley.
The youth was in for one long ride
done up in western style.
He removed a bison hide
from deep down in a pile.
The car was filled with rugged men.
They all had gold in mind.
A dollar earned would get you ten.
The year was forty-nine.
They would mine that yellow dust
three thousand miles away.
Chances were they’d all go bust
and then be forced to stay.
They came from every walk of life,
and soon to face the storm and strife
of harsh reality.
Each one itching for his shot
with the Devil’s dice,
not knowing that he’d prob’ly rot
in a hole with rats and mice.
Nuggets were out there galore,
buckets full in every hill.
They were deluded even more.
Each man would have his fill.