roves his worth.

Cascade was king of the mountains, Puget was lord of the sea;
Though Paul Bunyan took their orders, mightiest of all was he.

He dug the Sound for old Puget, he built the Peaks for Cascade,
Like the last great dream of a Painter, the Olympic Mountains he made.

But he was gyped by St. Helens on plans for a mountain mold,
So he pastured his ox and traveled to the north in search of gold.

He stopped at the mighty Yukon, it looked like a likely stream;
He never looked to his tailings, he was only after the cream.

But his plans were too ambitious and they'll tell you to this day
Of how Bunyan panned the Yukon but couldn't make it pay.

But about that time came rumors which he soon found were true,
How two friends took a contract and could not put it through.

It seemed that Joe McFrau and his friend, The Terrible Swede,
Had started to earn a grub stake on which they stood in need.

They started to level the Prairies, but their knowledge was not an iota,
So soon the two were stranded in the Bad Lands of Dakota.

They wrote to old Paul Bunyan and asked if he would bring
His old Blue Ox and help them finish the job in the spring.

So Bunyan took his Blue Ox and started on his way,
Right in the dead of winter, for he wanted to finish in May.

But hills and plains were buried full two squaws deep in snow,
And Passes were filled to the summit, so they told him 'twas foolish to
go.

But Paul would not listen to reason; he had too much faith in his bull,
He swore that the snow couldn't stop him e'en though the Great Basin was
full.

But as they reached the Rockies and camped by a pile of rocks,
The snow came down so thickly that he couldn't see his ox.

The temperature dropped swiftly, it seemed a hundred below;
The coals from the fire were frozen before they had ceased to glow.

You've often heard of blue cold and wondered if it was true,
But it got so cold that winter that even the snow was blue.

The Blue Ox froze and Bunyan was never the same again,
He wandered, God knows whither, away from the haunts of men.

But clear to the end of history and wherever the loggers may go,
You'll hear how perished the Blue Ox in the year of the great Blue Snow.

RIDING SUNSET FALLS

This story is one of the minor cycle, dealing with Bunyan's helpers, but
one in which Bunyan himself does not figure. It is the absence of the
gr