For my good six-shooter behind in my belt,
Down came the mustang, and down we clinging together.
What is the rest? A body has spread itself on my breast,
Two lips so close to my lips were pressed.
And then came thunder into my ears
And over us surged “a sea of steers,”
Blows that beat blood into my eyes,
Two arms are shielding my dizzy head,
And when I could rise, Lasca was dead.
I gouged out a grave a few feet deep,