John Coulter, and Kit Carson, and Jedidiah Smith
Name’s loom large in history, proportionate with myth.
But when it comes to Mountain men, there’s one outshines them all-
To hear him spoken of, my friend, you’d think him ten feet tall.
He went West as a youngster, apprenticed, ran away...
And knew the country from the North, far South to Sante Fe-
Compared to him the others seemed so civilized and tame-
Old Gabe was what they called him, Jim Bridger was his name.
He trapped the streams for beaver, and caught them, not a few-
And played a second hand to none, when comes to taking plew..
The Indians knew and feared him, and from his path fought shy-
His skill was monumental, to face him was to die...
They say he spoke to Custer, And told him very plain,
“The Sioux’ve riz up agin you, to face them is insane”.
Custer brushed aside advice from this old mountain man-
And fighting Gall, and Crazy Horse; he lost his whole command.
I guess the arrow wasn’t fletched, nor bullet molded, friend-
Which could fell Jim Bridger and bring about his end-
But that great equalizer, the heavy hand of time....
Put a stagger in his step, a fog within his mind.
His like we’ll never see again, they weren’t like me and you-
I’d like to think they all have gone to that great “Rendevous”-
He loved those Rocky Mountains, and gave to them his life...
A trusty Hawken rifle, and a keen Green River knife.
But as you drive the freeways, and climb the grades today-
Remember well that men like Jim, and Jed once paved the way.
Visit My Home Page