With Heffer I went in search of game,
Which led to that deed I dread to name.
When poor John Hight, on that fatal day,
To the plantation came that way,
I owed him no spite, I tell you true,
It was but his duty he did do.
I know you Rutter, poor John Hight said,
Those words filled my mind with dread,
To secure my safety, I did him kill,
And his precious blood on the ground did spill.