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THE CROOKED TRAIL TO HOLBROOK
C
OME all you jolly cowboys that follow, the bronco steer, I'll sing to you a verse or two your spirits for to
cheer; It's all about a trip, a trip that I did undergo On that crooked trail to Holbrook, in Arizona oh.
It's on the seventeenth of February, our herd it
started out, It would have made your hearts shudder to hear
them bawl and shout, As wild as any buffalo that ever rode the Platte, Those dogies we were driving, and every one was
fat.
We crossed the Mescal Mountains on the way to
Gilson Flats, And when we got to Gilson Flats, Lord, how the
wind did blow; It blew so hard, it blew so fierce, we knew not
where to go, But our spirits never failed us as onward we did
go,— On that crooked trail to Holbrook, in Arizona oh.
That night we had a stampede; Christ, how the cattle runl
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