And, a plantain blade on his brow for a shade,
even Phil Blood look'd mild.
Well, back, jest then, came our hunting men,
with the Panther at their head,
Full of his fun was every one, and the Panther's
eyes were red,
And he skipt about with grin and shout, for he'd
had a drop that day,
And he twisted and twirled, and squeal'd and
skirl'd, in the foolish Injin way.