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Updated: May 8, 2025
But the fool mules don't care; it's ecstacy to simply know she's livin' an' that mule's cup of joy is runnin' over who finds himse'f permitted to crop grass within forty foot of his old, gray bell-bedecked idol. "We travels all day, followin' glimpsin' that flea-bitten cayouse at Tramperos. But the mules can't think or talk of nothin' else.
"'James' is my bronco's name; an' the evenin', followin' the vision of that Tramperos gray mare I makes onusual shore 'that James stays with me. Not that gray mares impresses James him bein' a boss an' bosses havin' religious convictions different from mules or is doo to prove temptations to him; but he might conceal other plans an' get strayed prosecootin' of 'em to a finish.
"One by one, I overtakes the team strung all along between my camp an' Tramperos. Peter, the little lead mule, bein' plumb agile an' a sharp on hobbles, gets cl'ar thar; an' I finds him devourin' the goddess gray mare with heart an' soul an' eyes, an' singin' to himse'f the while in low, satisfied tones.
It's a month later on my next trip back, an' I'm camped about a half day's drive of that same locoed plaza of Tramperos. As I'm settin' in camp with the sun still plenty high I'm compilin' flapjacks at the time I sees eight or ten ravens wheelin' an' cirklin' over beyond a swell about three miles to the left.
He even quits bitin' an' kickin' Tom, an' that lovin' beast seems like he's goin' to break his heart over it, 'cause he looks on it as a sign that Jerry's gettin' cold. "But thar comes a day when I loses both Tom an' Jerry. It's about second drink time one August mornin' an' me an' my eight mules goes scamperin' through a little Mexican plaza called Tramperos on our way to the Canadian.
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