I'll tell all you skinners
From John Day to Bend
That the road south o' Shaniko
Ain't got no end;
It's rut-holes and boulders,
It's alkali dust,
But the jerkliners gotta make
Maupin or bust.

They rolled out Pete Orman
A quarter past three
He never had time
To get over the spree
That he'd started at noon
Only two days before;
When the call-boy come 'round,
Old Pete was right sore.

“Now what in the hell
Are they fixin' for me?”
He wanted to know,
“Get out, let me be;
Last night my poor side-kick
Was throwed in the can,
Today we ride jerk-line
For no God-damn man!”

They rolled out Pete Orman
And bailed out McBee,
They set a stiff price
With oats and grub free;
The boys had to take it,
The contract was made,
They watered, fed, harnessed,
And then hit the grade.

The sun was just risin',
The weather was fine,
They figured clear sailin'
To the Cow Canyon line;
But while they was startin'
Up Shaniko Hill,
Orm tickled Old Tommy
With a porcupine quill.

“Put in the oats
And shovel in the hay,
We're goin' to make it through
If we can find a way;
We ain't quite as fast
As the Oregon Trunk,
But we'll pull 'em into Bend
If we are both drunk.”