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182 AMERICAN BALLADS AND BONGS
I won't pay transportation from the range of the buffalo."
It's now our outfit was complete—seven able-bodied men,
With navy six and needle gun—our troubles did begin; Our way it was a pleasant one, the route we had to go,' Until we crossed Pease River on the range of the buffalo.
It's now we've crossed Pease River, our troubles have begun.
The first damned tail I went to rip, Christ! how I cut
my thumb! While skinning the damned old stinkers our lives wasn't
a show, For the Indians watched to pick us off while skinning
the buffalo.
He fed us on such sorry truck I wished myself 'most
dead, It was old jerked beef, croton coffee, and sour bread. Pease River's as salty as hell fire, the water I could
never go,—
0 God! I wished I had never come to the range of the buffalo.
Our meat it was buffalo hump and iron wedge bread, And all we had to sleep on was a buffalo robe for a bed; |
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