Christmas Comes to Line Camp

Christmas Comes to Line Camp
By Rod Nichols
(C) 2000 All Rights Reserved

There’s nuthin’ more lonesome, nor ragged, nor cramped
than a back-country line shack on a long winter camp,
but that was the choice made by old Miller Tige
Who worked as a rider for the 1-Lazy-Y.

Each season that followed the final fall drive
we’d pack up our gear ‘fore the first snow arrived,
and head for a warm place as winter set in
‘cept for the cowoy who stayed now and then.
He’d have to make do in a small wooden shack
and see to the cattle ’til the spring brought us back.
most of the boys tried to put off that day
‘cept for old Miller who liked it that way.

And so for the five years we’d know Miller Tige
he’d stayed on at line camp with no questions why,
’cause none of us hankered to trade for his spot
we liked creature comforts for the small pay we got.

Now that was the subject on many a night
Old Miller’s line job which didn’t sit right.
The boys often wondered ’bout a man all alone
out there in that old shack and left to his own.

So that’s how it happened that one night you see
we upped for a visit to be company,
and being near Christmas we cut a small fir
to bring him some peace and goodwill on this earth.

Well the ride was a long one before we arived
and the cabin was empty so we just stepped insie,
Old Miller was somewhere out ridin’ the line
so we made ourselves cozy and bided our time.

Then one of the boys who was nosin’ a bit
found a half-finished letter and began readin’ it.
He read it out loud so that all of us heard
and we sat there in silence at these humble words.

Dear Martha the letter went on to explain
It’s winter alreaady and I’m here again,
I’d like to be with you but we still need the pay
for just gettin’ by as we do day to day.

With little Bill’s illness and doctors and such
it takes all my wages and that ain’t that much,
but I ain’t complainin’ the Lord’s good to me
without this here job I don’t know where we’d be.

Give Billy a hug, dear, and try to explain
that Christmas won’t happen this year once again,
he’s a good boy, our Billy, and he’ll understand
why daddy can’t be there for his little man.

Somehow we’ll get through this I just know it, dear
til then I’ll keep workin’ adn stayin’ on here,
but one day I promise a place of our own
for you and our Billy a real proper home.

That’s where the note ended but that was enough
five years in a line camp and times had been rough,
five years without Christmas and fam’ly or home
five years every winter out here all alone.

Things might of stayed silent but old Bucky said
we’d best saddle up boys it’s a long ride ahead.
We left without lettin’ him know we were there
picked up our gear left his note on a chair.

We didn’t say much on that ride back to town
the snow slowly covered our tracks on the ground.
When finally we stepped down at Omar’s saloon
a silence had filled every man in that room.

We sat there a long time each lost in his thoughts
til Louieremember’d some lumber he’d bought,
and roofin’ and nails and then other things too
then each of us added some things we could do.

A whole plan was laid out by dawn’s early light
with one little detail to do the thing right,
the owner, od DK, would have to agree
and he weren’t the type to do nuthin’ for free.

But when we recited that letter we’d read
he took just a moment then said go ahead,
in fact that old son did much more than his share,
he threw in a deed and then ten head to spare.

By the time it was finished we had quite a load
of supplies and equipment and livestock all told,
and twelve loads of groceries all paid for and clear
by the store keep, Miss Bette, for the rest of the year.

Then we headed back up there to old Miller’s shack
but the ride seemed more cheerful than when we’d come back.
We’d buld him a real place with stock of his own
A place that his missus and Bill could call home.

Couse that would all happen much later that spring
but now after five years it was Christmas again.
The boyus would each spell him to be with his kin
a gift from the heart of that small band of men.

We found Miller Tige by the time we arrived
he sort of went speechless with tears in his eyes,
the best he could tell us was God bless you all
but the look on his face is the thing I’ll recall.

For the first time I felt it and so did the men
the meaning of Christmas had come back again,
the message of angels we first heard as boys
behold we have brought you great tidings of joy.

There’s nuthin’ more lonesome, nor ragged, nor cramped
than a back-country line shack on a long winter camp,
‘cept for one cabin on the 2-Lazy-Y
that’s owned by one family and their son, Billy Tige.