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Cowboy Poetry and Western Verse
Raja and His Chuckwagon Days
Steve Dickson
He looked real funny dressed up in them duds
when we come in to camp from the trail
Washin' tin plates in a tubful o' suds
Shiny derby hat hung on a nail
Who's this little feller we want to know
a dandy here among us old dogs
He's the new cookie, said the trail boss, Joe
as we set down on one of the logs
The old cook had died 'bout three weeks ago
We'd been livin' just mostly on beans
hell on our innards I want you to know
we near blew out the seats of our jeans
Shorty brought biscuits and set em on down
Then next up came some fine smellin' stew
we looked real close as he come back around
and poured us all some hot coffee too
Nary a word he said nothin' at all
‘Til Bob asked where the hell he was from
“I come from a village 'round old Cornwall”
we all stared at him like we was dumb
“My name is Raja and I'll be your man
Cooking fine fare daily for you gents
Now bring me your dishes and fetch those pans
So I can earn all my meager pence"
We started laughin' and near ‘bout fell down
This first time we heard Raja talkin'
Feller looked jus’ like a little ol' clown
Voice sounded like he was a squawkin'
The other bunch come in and asked around
“Is that the new cookie that Joe hired?”
Said Bob who was pettin’ his ‘ol red hound
“If he cain’t cook he’ll surely be fired
Joe said “give the rascal a fightin' chance
Townfolks said he’s the best in the bunch
He ain't much to look at on the first glance
But he’ll surely be cookin’ your lunch
We teased him, no mercy for several days
Though his cookin' sure tasted real swell
We found great amusement at his strange ways
Until he rang that ‘ol dinner bell
Raja was picky when it came to meals
most game that we brought to him, he'd snub
While serving he'd stand and dig in his heels
He got mad if we called his food grub
He wouldn't join us when we went to town
He stayed by the chuckwagon all day
Kept to himself but if some were around
He'd pull out his fiddle and he'd play
Had a fine voice and he knew some sweet tunes
That caused us hard ‘ol cowboys to cry
He sang in a language from ancient runes
That were written in days long gone by
One day Jim poured gin in his cup of tea
Raja coughed and sputtered all that day
When supper was over he came to me
This here's what all he managed to say
“You fellows have had enough of your fun
I allowed you chaps to have your play
Go choose now amongst you the roughest one
I'll knock his bloody block off, I say”
“Doggone it Raja, you're too small to fight
Most of these 'ol boys are jus’ plum mean
They'd stomp and whup you and turn out your light
I’m thinkin’ you're jus’ a bit too green”
He stared there at me with sparks in his eye
Said “I challenge your best man right now
Wager your eagles and I'll show you why
And in a few moments you’ll see how
He puffed up like a rooster dancin 'round
He was swingin but no one was there
We stood in wonder but looked at the ground
Old Jubal said “Hell, I'll take the dare”
Now Jubal's a big un o’er six foot tall
He claimed to have wrassled with a bear
He never laid hand on Raja at all
Brother, what we seen there was plum rare
Jubal went to swing but took a big lick
Seems like Raja struck twenty more blows
Our man was wheezin,' just tryin' to kick
How Jubal kept a standin', Lord knows
He finally fell over out like a light
Little Raja was still fit and fresh
You wouldn't know he'd just been in a fight
There weren’t a doggone mark on his flesh
We picked up Jubal, his bell was still rung
Said his noggin was filled with a buzz
For two hours after his head was hung
Until Raja explained who he was
He gathered us 'round down there at the camp
His bright curly red hair stickin' up
“Good fellows I tell you that I’m the champ
Of all England and still hold the Cup
I’ve been a boxer for most of me life
I learned the fine skill when just a lad
I was married but had a jealous wife
I fled when she caught me being bad
Here to the states then I made me own way
Learned culinary art at fine schools
I swore not to box unless ‘twas for pay
Me hands can also be deadly tools
Honest me hearties, I’m now on the lam
From me missus and me former foes
If they find me gents, life’s not worth a damn
Time on earth here would be full of woes
He fixed a platter of pork chops and kale
With potaters and biscuits and tea
We swore his secret was safe and this tale
Brother you didn’t hear it from me
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