And all across the continent the endless campfires glowed.
We've taken land and settled but a traveler passed by-
And we're going west tomorrow- Lordy, never ask us why!
We're going west tomorrow, where the promises can't fail.
O'er the hills in legions, boys, and crowd the dusty trail!
We shall starve and freeze and suffer. We shall die, and tame the lands.
But we're going West tomorrow with our fortune in our hands.
From 'Western Wagons', Stephen Vincent Benet
Tansys in the air.
At the end of California Creek, so named by the 49ers who moved to the ranch at its headwaters in the late 1800s.
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