Collected by Irene Carlisle
transcribed by Mary C. Parler
March 20, 1951
Reel 106, Item 6
The Maiden That Lived on the Plains
I once knew a maiden who lived on the plains;
She helped me to herd cattle through slow studdy rains.
She helped me one season, one whole year's roundup,
She would drink red liquor from a cold bitter cup.
I learned her the cow trade, the ranger's command;
I learned her to handle six-shooter in right or left hand.
I learned her to handle six-shooter and never to run,
And never fear danger while a bullet's in a gun.
We camped in a canyon, in the fall of the year;
We camped in a canyon, with a bunch of fat steer.
The Indians broke in on us at the dead hours of night;
She rose from her warm bed, a battle to fight.
Then out roared the thunder, and down come the rain;
Along come a bullet, and crushed out her brain.
"Now rise, ye cowboys, let's fight for our life,
For these wretched redskins have murdered my wife!"
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