Page:Slabs of the sunburnt West.djvu/17

 lean hands of wagon men put out pointing fingers here, picked this crossway, put it on a map, set up their sawbucks, fixed their shotguns, found a hitching place for the pony express, made a hitching place for the iron horse, the one-eyed horse with the fire-spit head, found a homelike spot and said, " Make a home," The hands of men took hold and tugged And the breaths of men went into the junk And the junk stood up into skyscrapers and asked: Who am I? Am I a city? And if I am what is my name? And once while the time whistles blew and blew again The men answered : Long ago we gave you a name. Early the red men gave a name to a river, the place of the skunk, the river of the wild onion smell, Shee-caw-go.