Ever wonder a few years hence,

What they may say about you gents?

Well read below and you shall see,

The specter of the things to be!

By Fancy Pants

Ole Fancy Pants, a gambling man,

Was called upon, to show his hand.

Five aces held, would surely win,

And beat them lowlifes, and their kin.

But as he raked in that big pot,

They cashed him in, that sorry lot!

They say that lonesome Deadwood Jake,

No single man could ever take.

But on the prairie he did nap,

And in his favorite wooly chaps.

So when some bison came around,

Why Jake got trampled in the ground!

Gus Kennedy always, dressed in black,

For his convenience, that is a fact.

When pesky outlaws, he did kill,

He'd dressed to bury'um, on Boot Hill.

But when they laid him down to rest,

He looked real sharp, he looked his best!

Dakota Lil, she had a flare,

Pearl handled shooters, she would wear.

And every peddler knew her name,

So far and wide, did spread her fame.

And to this day, the town folk say,

That gal just had a shopping way!

Fast on the trigger, fast on the draw,

Doc Monday lived, outside the law.

A short trail to glory, a short trail to fame,

He live by the gun, and died by the same.

Big Gabby John, bellied up to the bar,

"Draw me a beer," for I've ridden a far.

But "draw" was the only word heard that night,

The outlaws figured, John's looking to fight.

They drew in a flash, their six guns did roar,

John won't be drinking, with them boys no more!

He rode the Badlands, and Drifted to town,

A'lookin fer them, that were just low down.

He found those lowlifes', a'sipping a beer,

Said drink up real quick, your end is quite near!

His guns they blazed left, then back to the right,

His "pendulum sweep", a'ended the fight!

All of us cowpokes, we always did ponder,

From where in the world, came Wiggley Down Yonder?

Saints n' begorrah, Shamus Beirne he might be,

But that Irish scoundrel,  a'swung from a tree!

Fer sure and fer certain, it wern't " down under,"

Where women they glow, and men they do thunder!

It must be the "West", with its glitter and gold,

Way out "Down Yonder," where they're bad and they're bold!

Charlie was sheriff, of his frontier town,

The Clantons a'braced him, called him lowdown.

They stepped in the street, "Said go for your piece!"

"We're gonna sort out, the men from the meece!"

But Charlie just pulled, his ole scatter gun,

Said "OK you boys, I ain't gonna run!"

They looked at each other, they scurried around,

Their noses a'twitched, they rode out of town!

A card shark known both far and wide,

The chips they fell at Dixie's side.

With just one hand, she held her cards,

The other held, "Hot Lead" my pards!

The cowpokes said, "Don't chance yer fate,"

She'll clean you out, without a wait.

Don't catch her look!  Don't take her dare!

Less you be caught, in Deadeye's Lair!

Awesome Cactus Jack, in the road did stand,

Pulled smoke wagon, dynamite in hand.

His mustache bristled, as the stage drew near,

The driver reined in, a'shaking with fear!

"Throw down the strong box; the gold you can keep!"

I'm branding that chest, with things that are "neat."

His wood burning deeds, soon spread through the land,

This "Jack-and-the-box," with his outlaw brand!

Confederate Colt was a Rebel you see,

At slinging hot lead, he was quick as could be!

Them bad outlaw boys, always gave him wide berth,

For fear of him plant'n, them there in the earth.

His Pa always said, look'um straight in the eye,

Then pull them smoke wagons, and let the lead fly.

But now in his prime, a long shadow he casts,

Better watch it ole man*, he's getting real fast!

*Cactus Jack

Ole Wylie De, a man of chance,

He took a bet, and lost his pants.

So for penance, he had to fair,

As a lady in women's wear.

Now as we wince, at what we see,

One ugly gal, is Wilma De!

Ms. Oakley Mouse had, quite a knack,

With sweets and cakes, now that's a fact.

The cowpokes loved, to gobble down,

Why everything, she brought around.

So it should come, as no surprise,

That all us hombres, gained a size.

Though slower shooters, we may be,

Ms. Mouse is always, nice to see!

The ole Cowford Kid, rides shotgun a lot,

The bad guys a figur'd, a "double" he's got.

Two men we may lose, a'robbin that stage,

But we'll get real rich, we'll make the front page!

They put on their masks, said "Toss down your poke,"

But "Kid" had a "pump," and it was sure stoked!

So robbers beware, this stage full of trouble,

If he's got that "pump," "You're gett'n it double!"

Ole Delta Glen, and long Tall Q.,

Rode into town, to have a brew.

Crooked Bob was there, Big Jim was too,

Kid Romeo, to name a few.

Their Fort White gang, known far and wide,

They had a bounty on their hide!

"Throw out your guns," the law had said,

Wiregrass replied, "You'll take us dead!"

So in the bar, they made their stand,

They shot it out, to their last man!

J Bird's shooters, oft were heard,

They sung a tune, just like a bird.

Sweet was the sound, to good cowpokes,

Like "chalk on slate" to outlaw folk!

He kept the law, both sure and true,

He kept the peace, this J Bird Blue!

With toothpick and grin, he traveled to town,

Rode in with both guns, slung low and tied down.

The outlaws they knew, their time was at hand,

For Jessie Toothpick, was no ord'nry man!

They went for their guns, too little --- to late,

The Toothpick's fast draw, had just sealed their fate.

So lowlifes beware, his grin with it's pick,

He upholds the law, and does it real quick!

Fred was a dealer, of horse flesh that's true,

Said trade in your horse, "We need some more glue!"

And ride off my lot, on a "brand name steed,"

Turn eyes of them gals, and have lots of speed.

You won't run the risk, of coming up lame,

You'll be right in style, with comfort and fame.

So good guys and bad, all traded their gold,

And dealt with Ole Fred - - - "Gentleman of Ole's."

They called him Mad Dog, and not out of spite,

Why this dude was bad, a spoiling to fight!

His eyes they would glare, he'd snarl and he'd bite,

Why two marshals died, from pure simple fright.

So the posse they rode, to catch this outlaw,

And that was the last, of 'um, anyone saw.

So Mad Dog's out there, a waiting you see,

But if'n you're smart, you'll just let him be!

Deadwood Woody and his Sassy Lady,

A'braced lowlifes who were somewhat shady.

With spurs and fringe chaps, big kerchiefs and hats,

They rode for the "good", slung lead at the "rats".

They did it in style, while dressed to the nines,

They did it real quick, they did it real fine.

They showed the bad guys, with whom not to toy,

This "Classic Cowgirl" and "Classic Cowboy"!

A tougher cowboy, never seen,

Why Cactus Gene was, just plumb mean.

Shot a man for simply sneezing,

Even plugged a man for breathing.

So quick forthwith, two rangers went,

That "Prickly Pair," made Gene repent!

He rode like the wind, that Ole Buffalo,

Chased by Apaches and Geronimo.

He slipped in their camps, just like a quiet breeze,

To "Bravely" count coup, and all with such ease!

They whooped and they yelled, they really got mad,

This "prairie blow hard" sure made them look bad!

So if'n you ask, why In'juns are red,

They're chafed by the "Wind," or so it is said!

Ranger John Paxton, a' rode into town,

The Dalton's a'wait'n, to have a showdown.

Called him a coward, to step in the street,

Said he was yeller, right down to his feet!

The Ranger replied, "My time and my place!"

Sunrise at Boot Hill, we'll meet face to face.

Came with  his shovel,  his Colt forty-five,

He buried them boys, not one left alive!

Tennessee Tonto and sweet Dixie Heart,

They rode together, were seldom apart.

Purveying their duds, to cowpokes of old,

Were welcomed by all, wherever they rolled.

He came to be known, as just TNT,

He called sweet Dixie, his Kemosabe!

So keep a sharp eye, on trails that you ride,

For see them you may, at each other's side.

He sat at the bar, he twirled his mustache,

With each of his guns, he was Deadly fast.

"Go for your shooter," the sheriff did say,

Or hit the ole trail, and have a nice day!

So Deadly he rode, right out of that town,

But a new sheriff, will have to be found!

So lawman beware, this wily ole cooter,

Don't mix it up with, Deadly Sharpshooter!

They called him Smokey, quick and sure,

They called him honest, called him pure!

But to the "Darkside" he did turn,

For that blackpowder, he did yearn.

Now like a spider with no "Web",

He changed his name, that Johnny Reb!

So if you chance some smoke to see,

It may just be ole Gen'ral Lee!

Ole Charlie and his Yankee Belle,

They shot together, looked real swell.

He was the fastest with his gun,

But in her sights, you'd better run!

A tale of woe, the outlaws tell.

Of Charlie and his sweetie Belle!

His pistols had a real Lightload,

For outlaws this did not well bode.

He shot them once, then twice then thrice,

For their misdeeds, they paid the price!

Why can't you kill us, they all said,

This hurts much more than being Dead!

So nervous as a horny toad,

The outlaws watch for ole Lightload!

"Per mare per terram", the outlaws said,

Ole Semper Fi will see us dead.

"Fortitudine Vincimus" is his code,

And "Semper Fidelis" is how he rode!

So outlaws gave him quite a berth,

Less they get buried in the earth!

*Ask a Marine to translate

They said ole Jake, was hard to shake,

For outlaws that, were on the take.

He caught 'um quick, they had no chance,

The hangman's noose, was their last dance.

But Augustine, she took dead aim,

And on Jake Harden, laid her claim.

So all you cowpokes, bad and bold,

Take heed this story, that is told.

Don't steal the gold, much less a heart,

Or with your freedom, you will part!

He asked the mirror, on the wall,

Who is the fastest, of them all?

Who is it slings, the slowest lead,

Who is it cowboys, all do dread?

Who is it dresses, to the nines,

Who is a legend, in his time?

The mirror said, "Oh, Romeo,"

Why must thou ask, what thou dost know!

Sloughfoot Sally and Jake Rivers

Sloughfoot Sally, and long tall Jake,

Together what, a pair they make.

She shoots 'um low, he shoots 'um high,

It just ain't right, the outlaws cry.

There ain't no place, to hide or run,

What we don't look, right down their gun.

Sloughfoot Sally, and Jake Rivers,

Give us outlaws, cold cold shivers!

When something went wrong, that beat all you saw,

The city folk say, "It's just Murphy's Law!"

But in the old west, they had their own name,

For things gone a'muck, and who was to blame.

If it was just small, they said "No Big Flap,"

Completely messed up - - - was "Major Mishap!"

The Bandit and his Lady J,

Were known through out the west they say.

Their reputation with a gun,

Earned them respect from everyone.

The lowlifes knew to tread with care,

Be careful of this silent pair.

For when they talked, they talked with lead,

T'was best to listen,  lest be dead!

Kateri was a lovely lass,

But with her guns, she was real fast.

The cowboys knew to treat her right,

With this young gal, don't pick a fight!

So if you choose to cross her path,

Step easy friend, don't raise her wrath!

"Broken Arrow"  means, "come in peace,"

To ranchers, farmers and Cochise.

But folks out West, they came to know,

Ole Broken Barrel's, tale of woe.

His guns they always, had a hitch,

Some kind of trouble, or a glitch!

 So now his name means, "on the fritz,"

"He comes in piece, apart, and bits!"

Ole Redeye Roy, and his One Eyed pard,

Were two tuff lawmen, a'riding real hard,

They came to be known, as the "one eyed jacks,"

And catching outlaws, was matter-of-fact!

Them hombres got caught, in Redeye's cold stare,

Then Bullseye plugged 'um, while still in his glare!

So bad guys take heed, of this wild eyed pair,

'Cause jail or the noose, is the best you'll fare.

Ole Lone Wolf Johnson, a cunning young lad,

Turned to the Darkside, and went to the bad.

A fight he would pick, with some poor cowpoke,

And shoot him while hidden, in big clouds of smoke.

Then out stepped a sheriff, one blustery day,

The smoke and ole Lone Wolf, got blown away!  

He fought the Cossacks, Trocaderos too,

Tarters and Polocks, just to name a few.

He crossed the Phosgene, saw Viagra Falls,

Custer In'jun School, with its hallowed halls.

He saved garlic mines, and small Madame Peep,

But at Pasta Gulch, he go in too deep.

Ivan Innaccurate, a known fatalist,

Wouldn't quit while ahead, he wouldn't desist.

Barbarians caused, him to meet his fate,

Ivan Innaccurate --- now Ivan the late!

Ole Sunshine Bandit, a "Grumpy Grand Pa,"

Changed his alias, to out smart the Law.

The posse chased him, all over the West,

They tried to catch him, they gave it their best.

But Grand Pa had changed his name and his way,

Now he fought outlaws, for most of his days.

The Governor said, "Reclaim your proud name,"

So Sunshine is back, with "pardon" and fame!

Red Connors is, a frontier man,

To shoot with him, you need a fan.

To blow away, that cloud of smoke,

That emanates, from this cowpoke.

The Injun's think, he talks a lot,

They often read his smoke, they spot.

But smokey guns, don't bother Red,

What bothers him, is "What they said!"

Sky Marshal always, gave lowlifes a chance,

To turn themselves in, and not take a stance.

Buf if'n them varmints, they put up a fight,

He gunned them all down, be day or be night.

When asked why he shot'um with only one hand,

He simply replied, "Cause I be the Man."

Peace for the living, in our town,

But not Boot Hill, on hallowed ground.

For Rotten Ralph, though filled with lead,

Can't help but aggravate the Dead!

Sweet Teal Blue, shot straight and true,

With six guns, and shotgun too.

It should come, as no surprise,

Bad guys feared, her steely eyes.

So them boys, when on the prowl,

Kept their distance, from this gal!

The deadly eyed, Just Wild Bill,

Looking for that, one big thrill,

Woke one night, to meet his fate,

From a pair of 38's.

And She had a gun too!

The ladies would come, and the ladies would go,

Miss Maggie's Millinery, made some real dough.

The bad guys a'figured, why rob the dern bank,

With pickings so easy, shoot'n fish in a tank.

They put on their masks, "It's a Hold Up they said,"

Miss Maggie just smiled, and then filled them with lead!

Big Red was a come'n, word spread thru the town,

The marshal was scared, a walk'n his rounds!

For Red was a'fixin, the town to ignite,

The folks they complained, "It simply ain't right".

"A mess of this town," he's made in the past,

Now he's start'n a fire, and it's spread'n real fast.

Then out came his chocolates, marshmallows galore,

And graham crackers for, his messy ole s'mores!

With gooey hand prints, he's a'painting the town,

To then slip away, and never be found!

'Cause Market Hunter, shot fast and true,

Them outlaws always, gave him his due.

But when he chanced, that Mother Lode,

Them lowlifes down, upon him rode!

Too late they found, a  Forty-Niner*,

Ain't no wussie, gall dern miner!

*Category of Shooter

Chili Ray was a teacher, of men bad and bold,

On them he'd throw down, admonish and scold.

He learn't 'um some manners, in the blink of an eye,

For robbing, and killing, or just telling lies!

So the bandits arranged, an ambush you see,

To get rid of Chili, "How sweet it would be!"

His "red pepper" kerchief, a warn'd of his bite,

On me "Do not Tread,"  with me "Do not Fight!"

The outlaws they paid him,  "no heed" what at all,

And that's why Boot Hill, is a filled to the wall!

To even the score, with Southern Fried Bern,

Five outlaws drew straws, to get the first turn!

They tried an "ambush," and then there were four,

They tried a "dry gulch," and then lost two more.

They tried a "hold-up," and then there was one,

He tried a "shoot-out," and then there was none.

So hombres beware, this marshal called Bern,

Un'lessen a grave, on "Boot Hill" you yearn!

Big Buckskin Jack, was long and lean,

The quickest guns, you've ever seen.

The law they tried, to chase him down,

But leather fringe was all they found.

They put a bounty on his head,

Dead or Alive, was what it said.

But they ain't caught him, that's a fact,

They don't know squat, "They don't know Jack!"

The lawmen they cornered, ole Scorpion Jack,

They boxed him right in, now that is a fact.

But Jack only smiled, a glint in his eye,

Cause scorpions fight, not "lay down and die!"

His six guns they roared, the hot lead it flew,

Them lawmen weren't ready, they hadn't a clue!

He scattered that posse, all over the trail,

They mounted right up, and quickly turned tail!

"Ole Irish" traveled, thru-out the ole West,

At catching outlaws, he surely was best.

He searched them all out, both high and both low,

And to the gallows, they surely would go.

So even outlaws, who really were mean,

At Traveler's feared name, would simply turn Green!

 An "hombre of iron," as Dutch was oft known,

Had two holstered Colts, the triggers were honed.

A Schofield "break top," just under his vest,

A Sharp's "pepper box," to go with the rest.

A Henry he kept, real close to his side,

A Browning "high wall," in scabbard was tied.

Shotgun in one hand, a knife in his boot,

I tell you my friend, he's one tough galoot!

When asked why so armed, he simply just smiled,

"Them bad guys make sure, they don't get me riled!"

She fought for the tribe, that Renegade Squaw,

No use for "white eyes," no use for their law.

In Buckskin and beads, she always did fare,

A gleam in her eye, and braids in her hair.

Then by the Blue Coats, she finally was found,

They sent her to see, that big hunting ground!

Marshal was lawman, of the old Badlands,

Fought lots of killers, and mean In'jun bands.

When asked how he kept, from being killed dead,

He simply replied, "You pack lots of lead!"

Then you out shoot'um, from morning till night,

And round 'um all up, on morrow's first light.

So that's why he shoots, so long and so steady,

And that's why he's called, ole Marshal Leadready!

His family came west, to tame the outlaws,

Gramps was a Ranger, and so was his Pa.

Sweet little Granny, was quick on the draw,

And only a fool, stood up to his Ma!

The bandits all say, "It just ain't no fun,"

Law dogs for kin, he's One Son of a Gun!

Tough as boot leather, Matanzas was bold,

Chased down them outlaws, and laid them out cold.

He rode with a star, pinned right to his chest,

I tell you that's tough, without shirt or vest!

So after their heists, the outlaws would pray,

"Lord keep us safe from Matanzas today!"

Flamingo Joe, just used one gun,

Stood on one leg, for just plain fun.

Stared bandits down, with squinted eye,

And asked them how, they'd like to die!

Should it be quick, should it be slow,

"Just speak right up, and let me know."

Not one of them, did stick around,

To have him plant, them in the ground.

They all turned tail, for as you know,

He weren't no ordinary Joe!

Ole Zack McGee, with Sharps in hand,

Went riding through, the harsh bad lands.

He found some in'juns, that's a fact,

Who tried to lift, his scalp intact!

Some bad outlaws, that stole his loot,

And tried to string, him up to boot!

Some buffalo, that ran him down,

And tried to pound, him in the ground!

But if you ask, how was his day,

"Ordinary!" is what he'll say!

Hardtack Jack is as tough as a nail,

Catches outlaws and sends them to jail.

Cut all his teeth on his forty-four,

Plugging lowlifes just once and no more!

Chewing hardtack from dawn until dark,

Watch for his bite it's worse than his bark!

He guides wagon trains, through bad in'jun lands,

Through bandits galore, and hot burning sands.

Through buffalo herds, and high mountain trails,

Through hard driving rain, with thunder and hail!

On boundless prairies, he thinks of the sea,

As grass moves in waves, the wind blowing free.

A Hi Seas Cowboy, a'sailing the plains,

On prairie schooners, and feeling no pain!

Lone Ranger Frank Bones, thought single life swell,

Until he met sweet, Miss Dixie Leah Belle.

The bad guys a'figur'd, he'd settle right down,

Just leave them alone, and move into town.

He asked them lowlifes; (that whole thieving lot),

"Would you please drop by; watch me tie the knot!"

But as they arrived, he hog tied that gang,

To lock them all up, where they'd later hang.

He caught them outlaws, by wedlock you see,

But he won sweet Belle, in matrimony!

When under the gun, he's called Swamp Fox Fire,

Cunning and clever, if you raise his ire.

Young guns that brace him, are strong and quite skilled,

Their lack of instinct, is what gets them killed!

So varmints beware, this Fox and his dare,

Don't step in the street, you'll be in his lair!

They called him high smell'n, they called him low down,

Called him a varmint, what lives in the ground.

Said, "Mongo you crawl, back into your hole,"

And don't show your face, until you are told!

But lowlifes beware, this prairie law dog,

Who looks like a meek and pudgy groundhog!

With pistols a'blaz'n, he pop's out of holes,

A'shoot'n outlaws, until they are cold!

*Fancy Pants' black tailed prairie dog

    b. 2000, d. 9-15-2005

Cuervo Craig, and his buzzard gang,

Around the bank, would always hang.

They robbed that bank of cash and gold,

So many times, they grew right bold!

Them buzzards "plucked," that poor old town,

Until the bank, just plumb shut down.

"We've all their money," Cuervo swore,

We'll rob this bank, quote "never more!"

*cuervo - Spanish for raven/buzzard

They called him tuff, they called him mean,

They called him fastest ever seen.

They called him wrong, they called him right,

They called him when there was a fight.

They called him to, uphold the law,

They called him when lowlifes they saw.

They called him Butch, they called him Dennis,

They called him son of that there menace!

Bushwhackers say he's Double Ott,

Cause with them loads they all get shot.

Robbers say that feller Dennis,

Ain't no count he's just a menace.

Rustlers say he's just plain trouble,

Cause he plugs 'um with that double.

Outlaws say don't go to town,

Or on Boot Hill you'll soon be found!

Tony Montana, a'rode the big sky,

Canyons and Bad Lands, with pools alkali.

Valleys and deserts, so hot and so dry,

Indian nations, where most cowboys die!

Rode with ole Loving, and Charlie Goodnight,

A blazing the trails, with all of his might.

Some call him legend, and some say folklore,

But he's still a'riding, till he can't no more!

They called him Vaquero, down Mexico way,

Said he was Evil, with little to say.

Eyes cold as steel, and quick with a gun,

The men that he faced, all wished they had run.

So if'n you see, a big Sombrero,

And if'n Boot Hill, you don't want to go,

Don't ask and don't tell, you don't want to know,

Might be ole Evil, that lone Vaquero!

Sandy was firing, on all cylinders,

Lightnin' was shooting, with hands quick and sure.

The match it raged on, till late in the day,

The winner of which, why no one could say.

They called on the Judge, "Decide who has won!"

He glanced at them gals, their hands on their guns!

"In honor of sweet, Miss Lilly Langtry,

I call it a draw, The drinks are on me!"

It booms like thunder, that noise he makes,

When he goes a hunt'n, why everyone shakes.

Loads up his "High Wall," with one-twenty grains,

You hear him sling lead, all over the plains!

His Browning a'spits, black powder and flame,

To load any less, is simply too tame.

Says "If it don't bump, it ain't worth its gold,"

So "Bumper" he's called, by young and by old!

Home

Match Scores

Cowford News

Cowford Photos

Cowford Map

Shooting Category