Prospector And Burro Photographed In About 1900
Adventurer’s Luck
Did you ever go a-trapping
Where you knew the fur was plenty,
Where a year ago you could have
Made a bunch of ‘jack’?
Next fall you got in early,
Built your cabin in a hurry, -
Then didn’t even find a weasel track?
Did you ever go prospecting
Where the gold was found in millions,
And even every musher
Had made a pile of wealth?
And you worked just like a beaver
Cause you felt you couldn’t leave ’er,
And all you got was badly broken health?
Did you ever go a-fishing
When the weather, - it was perfect!
And you gathered up your tackle
And had it fixed just right:
And you whipped the streams and bait-fished
And maybe swore a little,
And then you never even got a bite?
Did you ever go a-hunting
When the woods were damp and gloomy,
Where everything was stillness
And everywhere a trail,
And you traveled over ridges,
Through the hollows, round the ledges
And then you never even glimpsed a tail?
But such is luck I find it,
And the fellow who stays by it
Will at last succeed and win the day:
Be he trapper, or prospector,
Be he fisherman, or hunter,
I have always found it
That it’s pluck that wins the day.
By James W. Whilt
James William ‘Jim’ Whilt was born on 8 January 1878 in Benton County, Minnesota, United States of America. In 1900, he moved to Fort Benton, Montana, and became a cowboy. He worked for 30 years in Glacier National Park as a guide, a caretaker, a trapper, and a dude wrangler. There, he recited his poetry for tourists. He eventually became a cowboy poet, known as ‘The Poet of the Rockies.’ He later lived on a ranch in Eureka, Montana. Among his works are “Rhymes of the Rockies” (1922), “Mountain Memories” (1925), a children’s book called “Our Animal Friends of the Wild” (1927), “Giggles from Glacier Guides” (1935), and “Mountain Echoes” (1951). James William ‘Jim’ Whilt passed on at 89 years of age on 10 March 1967 in Kalispell, Montana, United States of America.
Did you ever go a-trapping
Where you knew the fur was plenty,
Where a year ago you could have
Made a bunch of ‘jack’?
Next fall you got in early,
Built your cabin in a hurry, -
Then didn’t even find a weasel track?
Did you ever go prospecting
Where the gold was found in millions,
And even every musher
Had made a pile of wealth?
And you worked just like a beaver
Cause you felt you couldn’t leave ’er,
And all you got was badly broken health?
Did you ever go a-fishing
When the weather, - it was perfect!
And you gathered up your tackle
And had it fixed just right:
And you whipped the streams and bait-fished
And maybe swore a little,
And then you never even got a bite?
Did you ever go a-hunting
When the woods were damp and gloomy,
Where everything was stillness
And everywhere a trail,
And you traveled over ridges,
Through the hollows, round the ledges
And then you never even glimpsed a tail?
But such is luck I find it,
And the fellow who stays by it
Will at last succeed and win the day:
Be he trapper, or prospector,
Be he fisherman, or hunter,
I have always found it
That it’s pluck that wins the day.
By James W. Whilt
James William ‘Jim’ Whilt was born on 8 January 1878 in Benton County, Minnesota, United States of America. In 1900, he moved to Fort Benton, Montana, and became a cowboy. He worked for 30 years in Glacier National Park as a guide, a caretaker, a trapper, and a dude wrangler. There, he recited his poetry for tourists. He eventually became a cowboy poet, known as ‘The Poet of the Rockies.’ He later lived on a ranch in Eureka, Montana. Among his works are “Rhymes of the Rockies” (1922), “Mountain Memories” (1925), a children’s book called “Our Animal Friends of the Wild” (1927), “Giggles from Glacier Guides” (1935), and “Mountain Echoes” (1951). James William ‘Jim’ Whilt passed on at 89 years of age on 10 March 1967 in Kalispell, Montana, United States of America.
