Nancy MacIntyre: A Tale of the Prairies

by Lester Shepard Parker

THE DISAPPOINTMENT

1 There's a feeling in my bosom, Like a hound that's lost the game, After chasing over bunch grass Till his feet are sore and lame. I am standing by her dug-out, Open stands the sagging door; Every grassblade speaks of Nancy, But she's gone, to come no more. For her father and her mother, And her brothers, late last night, Loaded up their prairie schooner, And vamoosed the ranch, 'fore light. 'Taint no use to stand here cussin', But my heart slumps down like lead When I think of losing Nancy And to know my dreams are dead. 2 It was here I held you, Nancy, When I showed you all my heart; When I told you I would always Be your friend and take your part. Oh, I thought that in life's lottery I had drawn the biggest prize, When I kissed you there that evening And looked down into your eyes; For I never had such feelin's Fill my hide clean through and through Such a hungry, starving longing, To be always close to you. But you've gone with all your family, And I'm left to mourn my loss, While the posse hunts your daddie, 'Cause he stole Bill Kelly's hoss. 3 Now, I don't know where you're roaming, And I don't know where'll you'll land; But I wish you knew my feelin's, And 'twas clear just how I stand: How the good Lord, high in heaven, Put a throbbing heart in here, But it starts to pumping backwards When it feels that you don't keer. I'm a roving old jay-hawker, Never caught like this before, But I'd give my last possession For a glimpse of you once more. If we lose your old fool father Folks 'round here can stand the loss, He was raised in old Missoura, Or he'd never stole that hoss. 4 When my mind gets to recalling All the happy times we had, Good red liquor and tobacco Gets to tasting kind o' bad. You remember on your birthday How I drove 'round kind o' late, And we went to Donkey Collins' To a dance, to celebrate? When you got up in my wagon, Bless my heart, you sure was sweet! You was bound that you'd go barefoot, 'Cause your new shoes hurt your feet. Well, I tell you, pretty Nancy, Every minute of that ride Seemed like floating through the heavens, 'Cause you set there by my side. 5 When we pulled up at old Collins', Quite a bunch was there before, You could hear the fiddler calling, And the scraping on the floor. Through the dingy sodhouse window Gleamed a sickly yellow light, Where I helped you from the wagon, Holding you so loving tight. Then they called out, "Choose your pardners, Numbers five, six, seven, and eight," And we hustled up to join in, For we knew that we were late. After starting up the music Something happened--you know what-- All because I loved you, Nancy, And their manners made me hot. 6 I just glanced around the circle, When we came to "Balance, all;" To that mess of cowhide-covered Feet that stomped at every call. Sure enough, the thing I looked for Come to pass when Aleck Rose Tried to dos-a-dosby you, dear, And, instead, waltzed on your toes. Recollect? I stopped the fiddler, And I stopped that stomping crowd, Using language that was decent, But was mighty clear and loud: "Now, you fellers from the Sand Hills, Fight me, or if you refuse You don't dance with me and Nancy While a one of you wears shoes!" 7 Yes, they took them off, Miss Nancy, In respect for you and me, Putting all on equal footing, Just the way it ought to be. And we went through all the figures That we knew in that quadrille, But it didn't seem like dancin', Steppin' round so awful still. Fiddler, even, did his calling In a sort of quiet hush-- "Swing your pardners," "Back to places," "Sounds to me like paddlin' mush." "Man in center," "Circle round him," "All join hands," and "'Way you go," "Wait fur Betsy, she's in trouble, With a splinter in her toe." 8 When I took you home, towards morning, Such a night I never saw. How the Kansas wind was blowing! Swift and keen and kind o' raw. Blew more furious every minute, Blew a hole clear through the skies; Blew so loud, like demons hissing, That the moon was 'fraid to rise. Got so fierce it blew the stars out, Saw them flicker, then go dead, While the blackness, mad and murky, Rolled in thunder overhead. Goin' with it, durn my whiskers! Hind wheels riz plumb off the ground; Goin' 'gainst it, you and me, dear, Had to push the hosses down. 9 Now and then a raindrop whistled Like a bullet past my head; And I hollered out to you, dear, "Scrooch down in the wagon bed." Then they come as big as hen eggs; Struck the hosses stinging raps, Till the frightened, tremblin' critters Leaped beneath the angry slaps. Lord a'mighty, how they scampered! While I gripped the lines in tight, As the wagon box sailed upward Like a mighty wind-borne kite. Down below us ran the hosses, While we floated through the air, But through all that roaring shakeup, You, dear, never turned a hair. 10 When the lightning flashed around us, Rabbits stopped to let us by,-- Looked as if they said by halting, "We can't race with things that fly!" Coyotes sneaked off in the slough grass, Prairie dogs stayed in their holes; We was lubricated blazes,-- Couldn't stop to save our souls. Up the hills we flew like swallows, Down the slopes, a hurricane, Bumped and jumped the humps and hollows, Dragged the ground and riz again. And I prayed, "Dear Lord, save Nancy, For a desperate lover's sake!" You was hangin' to my gallus, And I felt it strain and break. 11 Felt you holdin' to my boot-leg, Slattin' in the roarin' gale, So, to save you, I worked for'ard, Got the nigh hoss by the tail. Miles on miles we tore on blindly, Had to let the critters roam, Till, at last, they turned their noses To the north, and towards their home. We went charging down a valley, Stopped in something soft and deep; Wagon box and you and me, dear, Landed in a mixed-up heap. Both the hosses' legs was buried And I knew that that was proof We had 'lighted on the top of Old Jim Davis's dug-out roof. 12 Now, old Jim was sleeping soundly Close beside his faithful wife; Peace had smoothed his savage wrinkles, All his dreams were free from strife. He was safe from ragin' cyclones, Wolves could never force his door, All the ills of life had vanished, On his mountain torrent snore. So when our descent awoke him Sitting bolt upright in bed, With the flying hoofs above him, Kicking hair off of his head, He aroused his sleeping helpmeet; Loud his curses and abuse, "Mary, hike your lazy carcass, Hell has turned the devil loose." 13 While ole Jim was shooting at us-- Couldn't make him understand; Kept his blamed old gun a-going Till he got me through the hand-- Not a whimper did you utter, But you grabbed the hosses' heads, Coaxed and helped them in their trouble, While they strove like thoroughbreds, Lunging, plunging, you stayed with them Till they both were clear and free. Riding one, you lashed them forward, Circled round and picked up me, Helped me mount, while Jim was loading; Then we struck off through the night, Right across the storm-swept prairie, Till the East was streaked with light. 14 I was faint and sick and dizzy, From my shattered, bleeding hand, And it seemed as if the jolting Gave me more than I could stand. Once I reeled, and would have fallen, If you hadn't held me there; Put your dear arm tight around me, Whispered, "Billy, don't you care." Then you headed straight for water, Threw the lines, dismounted first, Smoothed the grass down for my pillow, While the hosses quenched their thirst. Then you bathed my throbbing forehead,-- Love and healing in the touch,-- Sayin', "Billy, pardner, listen: That there shootin' wasn't much!"

15 From your skirt you tore a piece out, Dressed my wounds so neat and quick, That I felt the Lord had sent you Just to soothe and heal the sick. Bringing back a hat of water, Through the dim light and the rain, Thought I saw your face turn paler, Like you felt a twinge o' pain; But as you knelt down beside me I could hear you humming low Some mysterious song, stopped short by, "Billy, man, we sure must go!" And the sun turned loose his glory, Through the tempest-riven sky, Till it touched us like a blessing From the Father there on high.

16 I am standing by her dug-out; Open swings the sagging door, Every grassblade speaks of Nancy; But she's gone, to come no more, For her father and her mother, And her brothers, late last night, Loaded up their prairie schooner, And vamoosed the ranch, 'fore light. There's the bed poles and the stove hole; Not a thing is left for me, As a keepsake of my Nancy, Anywhere that I can see. What! a paper, pinned up yonder, Kind o' folded like a note! It has writin', sure as blazes! It is somethin' Nancy wrote. 17 "My dere billy, you will wunder Why I ever rote you this; I am sorry I am leevin Daddie needs me in his biz. I don't reely like this quiet Kind of sober farmer life; I like something allus doin, But for this, I'd be your wife. I got two of old Jim's bullets, Didn't like to let you know, Cause the one that you was luggin' Seemed to fret and hurt you so. Daddie cut them out that evenin; I don't mind a little such, But, dere billy, don't you worry, Old Jim's shootin wasn't much."