An Outlaw's Christmas Eve Greeting

© Craig MacDonald

The following is reprinted with permission from the acclaimed book, "Old West Christmas-Tales with a Twist" by Pulitzer Prize nominee Craig MacDonald and artist Bill Anderson. Much of this anonymous poem reportedly was found under an old building in Placerville, CA, long ago. Many think it may have been penned during the Gold Rush Days. Craig refined it to its present form for your enjoyment.

Once upon a time, All through the camp, Wasn't a miner a-stirring, They was out like a lamp.

Their six guns were hung, By the beds with care, In case Big Red, Soon would be there.

The posse was nestled, All snug by the trail, Fearing an attack, On the Overland Mail.

But Big Red was coming, In kerchief and cap, To shoot up the diggings at Whisky Dog Flat.

Down in the draw, There rose such a clatter, The sheriff vamoosed, To see what was the matter.

Away to the hills, He flew like a flash, For Big Red was regarded, Sometimes down right rash.

The moon on the breast, Of new fallen dust, Showed I was alone, To face what I must.

When what to my wondering Eyes should appear, But a bearded old bloke, Showing no fear.

Riding his horse, His spurs all a-jungle, I knew in a moment, Big Red's coming to mingle.

More rapid than eagles, His curses they came, As he bellowed for miners, And called them by name.

"Hey Rueben, Hey Chris, Hey Ron, Hey Gene, Come out of hiding, I've got you some green!"

But these men in terror, Remained in their sacks, Too afraid to reach, For their nearby gats.

Figuring their fate, They decided to fly, No time to grab stuff, Never waving Good-bye.

Heading due South, Like jackrabbits they flew, Gone from camp, And the outlaw, too.

Leaving me alone, To deal with Big Red, I eyed him closely, "Howdy," he said.

He was dressed all in red, From his head to his toes, And a highwayman's kerchief, Covered his nose.

A bundle of loot, He had flung off his back, Looking like a peddler, Just opening his pack.

His eyes how they glared, His features how scary, His cheeks were like poppies, His nose not so merry.

But a wink of his eye, And a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know, I had nothing to dread.

He said no other word, But went straight to his loot, Dumping some gold dust, In each miner's boot.

I realized at once, Big Red wasn't cruel, Just giving the boys, His version of Yule.

He sprang to his horse, Slipped on his cap, And away Big Red clattered, From Whisky Dog Flat.

But I heard him yell, As he fled in the night, "Season's Greetings to all—The damn posse's in sight!"

Editor's Note: For the last several days, seecalifornia.com has been featuring wonderful, unknown holiday stories from Historian and Author Craig MacDonald. The response from our subscribers has been phenomenal. Many want to know how they can get more of these incredible Christmas stories. You can receive an author/artist autographed copy of the acclaimed book, "Old West Christmas-Tales with a Twist," written by Craig and illustrated by internationally-known artist, Bill Anderson, by sending a $25 check made out to "El Dorado Museums Foundation" to Anderson Art Gallery, P.O. Box 1710, Sunset Beach, CA 90742. As a bonus, you can request the artist to draw a horse in each book you purchase. He's famous for his horse art. The books make a great gift year-round.