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W INDY BILL was a Texas man,— Well, he could rope, you bet. He swore the steer he couldn't tie,— Well, he hadn't found him yet. But the boys they knew of an old black steer, A sort of an old outlaw That ran down in the malpais At the foot of a rocky draw.
This old black steer had stood his ground
With punchers from everywhere;
So they bet old Bill at two to one
That he couldn't quite get there.
Then Bill brought out his old gray hoss,
His withers and back were raw,
And prepared to tackle the big black brute
That ran down in the draw.
With his brazen bit and his Sam Stack tree His chaps and taps to boot, And his old maguey tied hard and fast, Bill swore he'd get the brute. Now, first Bill sort of sauntered round Old Blackie began to paw, Then threw his tail straight in the air And went driftin' down the draw. 381