My eager hands to the gunstock ran,
And I dropped fresh priming in the pan.
His savage work was speedily through;
He raised and gave the scalp-halloo;
Sure aim I took, and the trigger drew.
Off to its mark the bullet sped;
Leaped from his breast a current red;
And the slayer of honest Dirck was dead.
Upon us closer now they came;
We formed in circles walled with flame,