When camp is moved, at break of day,
Then comes old Packer Bill--a king
Who rules, with most despotic sway,
The while he loads the pack-mule string;
'Now, stand off, fellers, give him room!
Now, let the critter buck and pitch;
That load will stay till crack o' doom
'Cause Bill has slung the diamond hitch.'
The helpers stand in trembling awe
And watch the ropes weave round the pack;
The artist's lightest word is law