Ho for California!
Fanfare in Unapologetic CMaj7
Ho! California bound!
Say goodbye to your town
Donners and the Reeds, through thick and thin
Lonely Grandma Keyes without her gin
Wagons rock and rolling cross the Plains
Ho! California bound!
Soon to cross holy ground
Dry up all your tears, we’ve said goodbye
There’s plenty on the road to make you cry
Don’t look back, we’ve left it all behind
Wagons ho! the Promised Land
Where ocean waves crash upon sand
I hear thunder rattling my dreams
Soon I’ll baptise in your golden streams
Wagons rock and rolling ‘cross the Plains
California, here we come!
It’s all you, Lord, Thy will be done
Fare thee well, my friends, may we meet again
Time will tell where or when
Hold us in your hearts, this wagon train
I’s only 12 but I remember it well
I’s only 12 but I remember it well
Misfortune etched in my mind
Of perils and hardships a tale I could tell
Of scoundrels and men who were kind
The morning we left Missouri, our life
A cold wind blew from the west
We loaded our wagons, trusting the Lord
In his infinite mercy we’d rest
Our wagons were drawn by oxen and steer
With provisions for six months a-journey
Little did we know, our fate was foretold
And our sufferings would triple their earnings
My mother was weak, declining in health
My good father he was a builder
In the darkest of hours my mother grew brave
And fought off what wanted to kill her
The stories we heard from old Grandma Keys
Of Indians, their dreadful crimes
I listened enraptured, my back to the wall
And feared encountering their kind
But Caws River, Kansas, they ferried us ‘cross
I prayed they wouldn’t sink us midstream
Watching them close, scarcely drawing a breath
But some things are not what they seem
By late end of May our dear Grandma Keys
Gave out what life she was saving
A coffin was hewn from a cottonwood tree
John Denton, he done the engraving
Platte River valley shone emerald green
Wildflowers I gathered by hand
The waters ran clear, shallow and wide
Our wagons rolled ‘cross the land
Mr Hastings claimed a new route was found
Running round the southern Salt Lake
His cut off would shave near 300 miles
So the cut off we voted to take
We later found out Bridges and Vasquez
Who shouted their praise for the route
Were employed by Hastings, a fact undisclosed
And left us troubled with doubt
Icy wind blew again from the west
We flinched at the slap to our faces
I turned to look back at the trail we’d carved
But the Lord’s hand covered our traces
We gotta move on, away from the life
We’ll cherish in memory at last
The sun’s run off, darkness has come
And loneliness is coming on fast
Billy
When I was child, a mere seven years old
I was gifted a treasure so kind
A pony named Billy, a beauty he was
Far across the plains we’d ride
We encountered the Sioux near Fort Laramie
They’s enchanted by Ma’s looking-glass
Desired my pony and bargaining hard
Buffalo robes and ropes of grass
Beaded moccasins laid at my feet
Made signs they wanted a trade
Father just smiled and shook his no
My Billy was a promise he made
We ranged and explored, Billy and me
A new world spread o’er the plains
Wildflowers I gathered and gave to my Ma
A pretty way to help ease her pain
But then came a day with no pony to ride
The poor fellow’s heart must have failed
Endless travel he couldn’t endure
We left him alongside the trail
I cried for hours, till I was ill
My sad heart broken and sore
I watch my Billy grow so small
And then I could see him no more
Please Mr Hastings
Please Mr Hastings will you show us the way?
Going to California there can be no delay
We don’t mean the Tao Te Ching
And this ain’t a Frampton song
Would you please Mr Hastings if you please
Get us ‘cross the Plains before the freeze
We heard about the Cut Off yesterday
With August round the bend we couldn’t wait
Hastings’ men wore southern smiles
Said we’d shave three hundred miles
Get on the trail now and don’t be late…
O Momma this don’t feel right…
Coyotes used to cry in the twilight
Haven’t heard a thing last two nights
Donners, Reeds, Murphys heading west
McClutchen, CT Stanton, and the rest
Forty miles and we’d be through
Desert dry, Salt Lake blue
Heartily believing we were blessed
Chorus
It seemed the hand death was on the land
Forty turned to eighty through the sands
Not a living thing was seen
Thirsty horses getting mean
We hadn’t figured dying in the plan
O Momma this don’t feel right…
Coyotes used to cry in the twilight
Haven’t heard a thing last four nights
Please Mr Hastings what the hell did you say?
Ain’t no cut-off we can see but suffering and delay
We don’t even pray no more
Our foolishness is plain
Mr Hastings when you’ve got the time
Shove this cut-off where the sun don’t shine
Twenty Wells, Utah
Beyond Twenty Wells, when the third night fell
Could we survive? No one could tell
Barren wasteland, piercing cold...
Oxen tumbling, crazed by thirst
Unhitch the wagons, spared the worst
We laid our heads upon the desert floor
Suddenly in the scream of night
Fatigue was banished, turned to fright
Young steer charged unforgiving
Father’s gun drawn, holding a child
The beast turned east, red eyes wild
Darkness hides a curse inside a prayer
Cold day broke, a five dog night
Losing fast the will to fight
Father forged ahead for water
Abandoned the wagons, hard to bear
Our cattle gone we knew not where
Mother wrapped her shoulders in a shawl.
Eight hundred miles from California...
Divided our provisions, what little we had
What we didn’t need, or couldn’t carry
We buried in the earth for another day
Onward we rolled, time rolling away
Hope we fluttered like a thread in the wind
Humboldt Sink
I’m gonna tell you just one more time
Hell is closer than you think
See the river just disappear
My friends, that’s the Humboldt Sink
South around the Rubys, worn down to the core
Papa done killed a man back at Gravelly Ford
Exiled to the wilderness to even the score
Sixty-eight days of heartache and pain
We followed the river west
So much lost with every mile gained
No time, there’s no time to rest
You think the Devil’s done with you?
Dip your tin, take a drink
The bitter river flows soundlessly
And dies at the Humboldt Sink
The Paiutes spoke some English, what little they knew
Joined us all for the night, and shared some stew
Morning comes the oxen gone, and Grave’s shirt too
Now we remember old Grandma Keys
And the words she held so true
Desolation blowing on the breeze
A desert forty miles to get through
Snow melt in the spring forms a lake
Sparkling so pretty makes you blink
But when you wait September’s end
All you get is the Humboldt Sink
October 1846 (instrumental)
At the end of the Great Basin itself, and its 40-mile desert, the
Donner Reed party reaches the Truckee River. Clean rushing
water. Grasses for the oxen. The first trees they’d seen in weeks:
“red and gold leafed aspens and cottonwoods waving from its banks.”
Come the Night, the Dreaded Snow
Come the night, the dreaded snow
Whirling flakes, their icy glow
Three miles from summit, we turned back
An Indian stood under the trees
Seemed to know that we would freeze
Wrapped himself in blankets, watched all night
The cattle killed, preserved in snow
How long we’d eat, we didn’t know
Snow was falling, falling without end
A rescue party, Forlorn Hope
Fifteen brave climbed the slope
Set off to California to save the rest
Of those brave and strong of heart
Only seven made John Sutter’s Fort
Horrors endured no pen will ever tell
Winter fierce and Christmas near
For the starving no comfort here
Mother then revived our failing souls
A few dried apples, some tripe so lean
A piece of bacon, scattered beans
A feast she saved for her own
We watched the cooking carefully
Mother said “Children, eat slowly
For this one day you can have all you wish.”
Every Christmas I go back to Donner Lake...
Never Take No Cutoffs
Oh, Mary
I’ve not wrote you half of the trouble we've had
But I have wrote you enough to let you know what trouble is.
But thank God
We are the only family that did not eat human flesh.
We have left everything, but I don't care for that.
We have got through with our lives.
Don't let this letter dishearten anybody.
Remember, remember...
Never take no cutoffs and hurry along as fast as you can.
That Was All So Long Ago
That was all so long ago, but spring arrived at last
Under the snow at Donner Lake, hard times now have passed
But Sacramento valley, as broad as all world
Would be our home, our cherished land, our flag at last unfurled
Napa Valley afternoon in shade we stopped to rest
A lovely little knoll I found, I wandered by myself
Wildflowers I gazed upon, green valley full of trees
And in the branches high above, the birds would sing for me
The blessed sun a smile
A benediction pure
How could we have come this far
Without His guiding hand?
I felt so near to God that day, His breath upon my cheek
My kisses flew to heaven’s light, all in thanksgiving
I heard Papa calling me, “Daughter, where’ve you gone?
Come child, we’re ready now, sing for us a song.”
The friends we love, the friends we lost
Remembering us home.
