The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1893-01-07

he'd Jest come IN fum an elghteen nile
route, an the last six miles keepin'
ahead of gang Of Injuns, but knowed
he was good fer forty mile more, an
begun gittin' him ready. His backbone
an ribs didn't stick out SO free in them
days, an jest thought l would go it
BAREBACK an weth only q haekamore
roun' his nose. Yuh see, the hackamore
was only q hair rope weth no buckles
to jingle. Well, it come along dark
purity soon. an tore up pair O. pants
an wropped 'em aroun' Ole Banjo's feet
so his shoes wouldn't clink agin the
gravel. When it come plum dark got
on Ole Banjo in the dinin'-room an
rode out toward Cheyenne. We hadn't
gone fur when | see an Injun not five
foot ahead. He. hadn't no idee they
was any one on the boss back, an he
jest thought things was a comm too
easy when good stage-hosses walked
into him hathaway. He put up his
hand to ketch Ole Banjo by the fore
top, an me all the time layin' along his
neck weth my gun three inches ahead
of Ole Banjo's nose. / want two feet
away when let the lnjun hev it right
between the eyes. Well, they amt
much more to tell l jest rode Ole
Banjo like the devil a-beatin' tan-bark
fer the forty mile into Cheyanne. 1
started FUN the station at jest nine
o'clock, an rode into Cheyenne at
twelve. In half an hour we was on
our way back weth a squad of cavalry,
an little arter four we rode up to the
station. All the Injuns had gone
'ceptin' the one he'd located pernan-
ent an three others which Vic he'd
made good, an which the other Injuns
hadn't kerried of. But / want yuh to
notice tibet Ole Banjo went tibet eighty
mile in seven hours, an never missed
his reg lar trip over the route neither.
"Banjo's got heap more sense than
some folks has got hay. Lots o. times
he has saved coachful o. passengers
FUN goin' into washout when the
night was SO dark the driver couldn't
see the leaders. One night mp in Mon
fanny it was jest nachully stormin'
pizen, an Ole Banjo was on the Deer
Lodge trail. OF course he was in the
lead, but the driver was new one an
hadn't been told tibet Ole Banjo sawed
his business better than any driver
tibet ever pulled rein over
him. The road want but eight foot
wide in places, weth a mounting
straight up on one side an precipice
miles down on the other. The driver
hadn't been over the road but once, an
then in the dark, and he felt mighty
prayerful when flash o. lightnin'
would come an let him look down in
the yearth about seven mile. He sure
didn't feel none gay at the vistas. But
all at once Ole Banjo stopped, an the
rest o. the team knew enough not to
make no bluff when Banjo asked fer a
show down. The driver done his best
tub git the team tub move, but they all
waited to see Banjo's hand. Finally
the driver walked up passenger who
was sleepin' in the front boot on the
mail sack an give him the ribbons to
hold while he went ahead TO spy out
the trouble. He found a plenty, fer
he was almo st touchin' a big grizzly
bar when a fash o. lightnin' showed
him his mistake. Well, yuh see,
the driver hadn't lost no bar, an the
man a-holt O the lines swore he never
touched but one high place tell he
jumped on the box. The driver tole
me he all to once weighed three
ounces lighter'n a straw hat, an Jest
few over the team. They want no
chance tub turn the team err the coach,
an the hull outfit he'd tub stay thur an
shiver till it was light enough to see.
Then they shot the bar an found it
had busted an inside surcingle er some
thin a-tumblin' down the mounting.
But all the same, want yuh to notice
tibet airy other boss in the lead would
a-jack-knifed the team, an carried
the hull outfit to kingdom come down
the precipice. He's sure good boss,
an the man tibet ever throws silk inter
him or treats him bad hez got tub make
some medicine weth me, Joe Bush. He
amt never been outclassed in airy team
he was airy into. He's worked in teams
where yuh had to go up one side weth
a broadax an down the other weth a
shovel a-knockin' 'em intuh the collar,
but you bet yuh, Ole Banjo want
never hit a clip. His tugs was allus a.
drawin'"
One bitter cold day in January word
came up the line that Old Banjo was
dead. I jumped on the down coach,
and as dlsmountcd at Cave Hills sta
ton it was with feeling of surprise
rather than anger that Banjo's Bob
was not at hand to grasp the bits of
the led team. But this feeling changed
wholly to one of grief as saw on the
sunny side of the station rude mound
surmou nted by headstone of rough
boards. With harness dressing for
paint, and his fingers for a brush,
Banjo's Bob had subscribed the follow
ing epitaph:
HERE LIES OLE BANJO
The best stage boss That ever
Looked thrue A
Collar.
Murdered Jan. 1885 BY Chevauu Bill