The Appaloosa

He rode into Laramie just before dawn

while the streets were still quiet and bare

Just a vague silhouette on the grey eastern sky

Wore a tall cowboy hat and long hair

He cared for his mount first as he always did

At the livery he rented a stall

Then he walked up the street to the Kuster Hotel

When dismounted he didn’t look tall

After breakfast and coffee it was back to the stall

His four legged friend calmly waited

As he groomed the fine stud he looked all around

Saw a fat horse that looked quite stiff gaited

He spotted some ponies just in from the range

They were not too bad looking it seemed

Saw a fine thoroughbred with a banker astride

His black coat surely glistened and gleamed

All day long he took stock of the horseflesh in town

And at sunset walked out in the street

Up Front Street a ways sat likely saloon

There was someone he wanted to meet

He spotted the banker at a table in back

And he bought him a cold beer or two

After a while the talk turned to horses

As westerners’ talk seems to do

“Quite a mount you got there Sir”, he said with a smile

“I saw you bout noontime today

Looks like he’s a good one, at least for these parts

Would you like one more beer by the way?”

As the banker took stock of the young saddle tramp

Who seemed a bit full of himself

“How bout a small wager Son, just for a laugh?’

And he took his hat down from the shelf

A few ears then perked up when a wager was mentioned

And a hush fell down over the crowd

“Well I don’t know, Boss” stammered the youngun

“Aww come on now boy”, yelled a fella quite loud

“Mr. Baxter’s big black can run like the wind

You been runnin your mouth all night long”

And now when it comes time to show what you got

Seems you’re singin a whole brand new song”

Well I don’t know Boys” said the young buckaroo

All I got is these nuggets to bet

Don’t know what they’re worth, probly not much”

And the Banker said, “Now son don’t fret”

“I reckon I might could allow you about...

Oh, a hundred dollars or so”

And he smiled like a cat who had just found a mouse

As he gazed at the nuggets’ soft glow

The cowboy looked nervous but he wouldn’t back down

As he laid his small bag on the table

“That a boy” said the banker and put down his cash

“We’ll race now if you think you are able”

“Well I reckon that’s fine” said the cowboy quite slowly

And they all left the friendly saloon

The cowboy walked back down the street to the livery

In the light of the Laramie moon

Mr. Baxter climbed up in the saddle (with help)

And awaited the drover’s return

“This won’t be no race Boss” said the onlookers laughing

“That poor cowpoke won’t make the first turn”

But their laughter soon faded as they gazed up the street

As the thunder of hoof beats drew near

Then into the lamplight rode the young long haired stranger

And the Banker’s eyes might have shown fear

He was mounted up proud on a 15 hand stud

The horse stood there calmly and proud

He was light grey up front and spotted behind

“Appaloosa!”, murmured some in the crowd

He sat tall with no saddle, just a blanket of red

No big stirrups, no fine silver bit

Had a light hand-made bridle that didn’t look new

Just a few glass beads woven in it

His long hair tied back and a smile on his face

The youngster said “Let’s run this race”

And the banker harrumphed and blustered a bit

You could see beads of sweat on his face

They lined up in the street and a pistol was cocked

And the moonlit contest was begun

Both horses took flight up Front street to the west

As if they were fired from a gun

Three blocks they raced and then turned to the north

Dead even, when they made the next turn

Then the cowboy looked over and showed a slight grin

But his dark eyes  somehow seemed to burn

With a word to his mount and a flick of his quirt

A gap opened between the two men

Appaloosas have wings when they see the north star

And they feel the caress of the wind

The young man in the saddle gave a shout high and shrill

Like he did when he was just a boy

And he rode the fast ponies in his grandfathers herd

The Nez Perce tribe’s strong pride and joy

Bred for the battle and for speed and for strength

The App knew no equal it seems

From the plains of old Persia to the streets of Cadiz

To the Northwest’s cold mountains and streams

As they made the last turn and hit Front Street again

The banker was nowhere in sight

And in Laramie, sometimes the talk will return

To the race that was run on that night

The young man took his winnings and rode out of town

As he spoke there was pride on his face

“My name is Joseph, it’s my grandfather’s name

The Snake River’s my ancestor’s place”

“Appaloosa’s the king of all horses that live

He’s the spirit that you can not kill

And when all of my tribe has at last turned to dust

Appaloosa remembers us still”

Just outside town he slid off his horse

And built a small fire by the trail

And he burned the greenbacks that the banker’d laid down

In the distance the coyotes wailed

Then he road out of sight as his words softly faded

No one saw him or that horse again

But up by the Snake River, they say he still rides

You can still hear his words on the wind

© 2009

Robert De Groff

Photo by Tex Jones aka Jerry Maravegias

©2011