He thumped him in the shoulders and spurred him when he whirled,
To show them flunky punchers that he was the wolf of the world.
When the stranger had dismounted once more upon the ground,
We knew he was a thoroughbred and not a gent from town;
The boss who was standing round watching of the show,
Walked right up to the stranger and told him he needn't go,—
"If you can use the lasso like you rode old Zebra Dun,
You are the man I've been looking for ever since the year one."
Oh, he could twirl the lariat and he didn't do it slow,
He could catch them fore feet nine out of ten for any kind of dough.
And when the herd stampeded he was always on the spot
And set them to nothing, like the boiling of a pot.
There's one thing and a shore thing I've learned since I've been born,
That every educated feller ain't a plumb greenhorn.
Come all you jolly fellows and listen to my song,
There are not many verses, it will not detain you long;
It's concerning some young fellows who did agree to go
And spend one summer pleasantly on the range of the buffalo.
It happened in Jacksboro in the spring of seventy-three,
A man by the name of Crego came stepping up to me,
Saying, "How do you do, young fellow, and how would you like to go
And spend one summer pleasantly on the range of the buffalo?"
"It's me being out of employment," this to Crego I did say,
"This going out on the buffalo range depends upon the pay.
But if you will pay good wages and transportation too,
I think, sir, I will go with you to the range of the buffalo."
"Yes, I will pay good wages, give transportation too,
Provided you will go with me and stay the summer through;
But if you should grow homesick, come back to Jacksboro,
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.