Brenn Hill


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We were trailin' cattle down the blue fork to the
One hot, dry, sunny August afternoon
It hadn't rained for days and the heat was
The cattle needed water soon
We heard the horses whinny at a new scent on the air
It came rollin' off the sagebrush on the ridge
It was a ghostly, driftin', burnin' breath of death
that made us rein up there
And see flames engulf the Curtis River Bridge

And we yelled, "Ride for the river, boys!
Run for your lives!
Stampede these cattle, or leave 'em here to die
There's hellfire runnin' on the mercy of the wind
So ride like you will never ride again."

The canyon roared like thunder as we crashed down
through the pines
A half a hundred cows and all our crew
As the flames ate up the meadow we'd left just a mile
We knew that there was nothin' we could do
But break for that blue river at the bottom of the
And pray the wind was slower than our horses
It was each man for himself, spurrin' flanks 'til they
were raw
Headin' hell-for-leather down each of their courses


Like a blessing, we all whooped and crashed and
splashed into the water
As the smoke filled up the canyon above
And through the haze we counted off and with every man
We turned to see what is become what was
A whole canyon's worth of pasture gone in seconds of
the wind
Now only ashes scar what little grass remains
A blistered, smokin' eyesore of the beauty that had
Too long without the healin' summer rain

"Ride, or you may never ride again."