He strode inter Brannigan's wavin' a gun
And swearin, declarin' red rivers 'ud run
Down Alkalai valley, and mountains o' gore
Would wash sudden death 'cross the sagebrushy floor

Then he shot a big hole inter Brannigans door!
- Bret Harte

Actually the whole poem's pretty funny, Kinda like some of Robert Services' stuff.

I reckon.

O'Meara