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American Ballads and Folk Songs
And the other tricks took an even six, And we needed them all that night.
And to quench our thirst we had dared the worst
And fought for a nester's well; But he had a girl with a witching curl,
And she cast a golden spell. So our shots went wide from the sinner's hide
As he faded from our view, And the charming miss blew old Red a kiss
And smiled as his pony flew.
'Twas a pretty play, but he spurred away,
His face like a prairie blaze. And he hit the dirt as he plied his quirt
Till lost in the friendly haze, While the bawling shrilled as the cattle milled,
And their eyes grew shot with fear— For they knew right well that a merry hell
Lurked in the gathering smear.
In the north black clouds like funeral shrouds
Rolled down with an icy breath, And we faced a fight on a brutal night
With odds on the side of death; For a trailing herd when it's rightly stirred
Is a thing for a man to shun, And no coward band ever holds command
When the norther's on the run.
In the ghostly hush that precedes the rush
Of the wild wind-driven flood, We made our dash to the thunder's crash,
Spurs set till they drew the blood j
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