Stagecoach
Hunting for some strays in the mountains and rolling hills
I came upon it by accident, a stagecoach sitting on three wheels
Riding down to get a better view
A chill ran down my spine, a feeling I never knew.
How the coach had gotten here, Heaven only knows
It was plain to see it arrived a very long time ago.
The morning sun was still quite low
It gave the scene before me and eerie glow
Upon walking closer, my heart did skip a beat
For before me in the early morning light
The bones of men and horses lay in the dust at my feet.
Horses skeletal remains, bits of leather, wood and chain
A brass buckle or two is all that remained
Of the horses and harness that pulled the coach straight and true.
Next to the coach two human skulls could be found
Sitting among other bones scattered all around
Approaching the coach to take a look inside
I saw it was full of holes across one side.
The window curtains were tattered and torn
The door hung on one hinge and creaked in the early morn.
On the seats of the coach were six more sets of skeletal remains
Of folks who never made it to their destiniation
To live their lives, seek their fortune, or stake their claims.
Where the coach had come from, or where it was to go
Who these folks were, these things I did not know
Not finding any clues as the past, I started digging graves,
To let these folks rest at last
As the evening twilight came, my task was finally done
Both man and beast were laid to rest from the evil that had come
I made my camp on the bluff, overlooking the coach and scene below
And I drifted off to sleep under the moon's eerie glow.
Awakened in the night by voices and horse's stomping feet
I looked over the bluff and saw an upright coach and six-horse hitch
People waving up at me!
In an instant they were gone
Thinking I must be dreaming, I went back to bed where I belong
At the dawn's early light, I broke camp to be on my way
I had a job to do; and that was hunting strays
For I would need every one to sell
To pay mortgage on my ranch and keep the bank away.
As I was riding down to the coach to take one last look-see
The image of the night before was running through my memory
I saw something under the coach that wasn't there before
A metal clad box, just behind the door.
A closer look revealed a hidden compartment
Where the box must have been sealed
Opening the box I thought this just couldn't be
For it contained 18 gold bars, six wide and three deep!
Realizing that this was what these folks had died for
And the murderers never did claim
Even though it wasn't given to me, it was mine just the same?
As if to ease my troubled mind, and the anxiousness I felt
Scratched into a gold brick, the words; Thanks for all your help!
Roger O'Neil © 2003