Roll A Rock Down

Oh, out in the West where the riders are ready,

They sing an old song and they tell an old tale,

And its moral is plain: Take it easy, go steady,

While riding a horse on the Malibu trail.

Nearing The Pass

Jason Rich

American Cowboy artist

It's a high, rocky trail with its switch-backs and doubles,

It has no beginning and never an end:

It's risky and rough and it's plumb full of troubles,

From Shifty-that's shale-up to Powder Cut Bend.

Old-timers will tell you the rangers who made it,

Sand "Roll A Rock Down," with a stiff upper lip,

And cussed all creation, but managed to grade it;

With a thousand-foot drop if a pony should slip.

Oh, the day it was wet and the sky it was cloudy,

The trail was slick as an oil-rigger's pants,

When Ranger McCabe on his pony, Old Rowdy,

Came ridin' where walkin' was takin' a chance.

"Oh Roll A Rock Down!" picks and shovels was clangin'

And Rowdy a-steppin' that careful and light,

When the edge gave away and McCabe was left hangin'

Clean over the rim-with no bottom in sight.

I shook out a loop-bein' crowded for throwin'

I flipped a fair noose for a rope that was wet:

It caught just as Mac lost his holt and was goin',

And burned through my fingers: it's burnin' them yet.

For Ranger McCabe never knuckled to danger;

My pardner in camp, on the trail, or in town:

And he slid into glory, a true forest-ranger,

With: "Hell! I'm a-goin'! Just roll a rock down."

So, roll a rock down where a ranger is sleepin'

Aside of his horse below Powder Cut Bend:

I ride and I look where the shadows are creepin'

And roll a rock down-for McCabe was my friend.

I've sung you my song and I've told you my story,

And all I ask when I'm done with the show,

Is, roll a rock down when I slide into glory,

And say that I went like a ranger should go.

"Roll A Rock Down"

Henry Herbert Knibbs

(1874-1945)

American Cowboy poet and novelist