Narration 6
Maybe at times life on the range was as peaceful and poetic
As those lyrics to Home On The Range imply
There were the calm quiet nights by the fireplace or by the campfire
There was the smell of strong coffee
And the night howl of the timber wolf
And always that Saturday trip to town
And to the night-herder the herd quietly millin' around
But a cowpoke knew that even under the night shades of heaven
That any minute all hell could break loose
And start a nightmare of tons of chargin' crazed cattle
Some men may have had no fear of a six gun or a wild mustang
But just one word could chill the most calloused man
And that word was stampede
