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The Old Scouts Lament
But brothers, we are failing, Our race is almost run; The days of elk and buffalo And beaver traps are gone —
Oh, the days of elk and buffalo!
It fills my heart with pain
To know these days are past and gone
To never come again.
We fought the red-skin rascals Over valley, hill, and plain; We fought him in the mountain top, We fought him down again.
These fighting days are over. The Indian yell resounds No more along the border; Peace sends far sweeter sounds.
But we found great joy, old comrades, To hear and make it die; We won bright homes for gentle ones, And now, our West, good-bye.