JIM'S WHIP
27
That whip was with him night and day
When he was on the track:
I've often heard him laugh and say
That when they heard it crack,
After the breaking of the drought,
The cattle all came back.
And all the time that Jim was here,
A-working on the run,
I'd hear that whip ring sharp and clear
Just about set of sun,
To let me know that he was near
And that his work was done.
I was away that afternoon,
Penning the calves, when—bang!
I heard his whip: 'twas rather soon:
A thousand echoes rang
And died away among the hills,
As toward the hut I sprang.
I made the tea and waited, but,
Seized by a sudden whim,
I went and sat outside the hut
And watched the light grow dim:
I waited there till after dark,
But not a sign of Jim.
