Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs By Walter Thornbury. Illustrated by J. Whistler, F. Walker, John Tenniel, J. D. Watson, W. Small, F. Sandys, G. J. Pinwell, T. Morten, M. J. Lawless, and many others |
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A Rifle Duel in Arkansas.
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 | Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs |  |
A Rifle Duel in Arkansas.
He'd slandered my mother, who was born free,
So I swore I would drop him or he drop me:
We met with rifles near Cedar Creek
'Bout sundown, yesterday was a week.
So I swore I would drop him or he drop me:
We met with rifles near Cedar Creek
'Bout sundown, yesterday was a week.
The buzzards sat on a sassasfras-tree,
Croaking and gloating and waiting for me;
The rattlesnakes moved in the cotton-wood copse,
The night wind sighed in the cane-brake tops.
Croaking and gloating and waiting for me;
The rattlesnakes moved in the cotton-wood copse,
The night wind sighed in the cane-brake tops.
He patted his rifle, barrel and breech,
He clicked the trigger: no waste of speech.
He pulled out slowly his powder-horn,
Then greased a bullet, and whistled in scorn.
He clicked the trigger: no waste of speech.
He pulled out slowly his powder-horn,
Then greased a bullet, and whistled in scorn.
He loaded slow, but he fired right smart,
With much goodwill, yet not much art:
The bullet it splintered and chipped the tree,
A coppery cedar, close to me.
With much goodwill, yet not much art:
The bullet it splintered and chipped the tree,
A coppery cedar, close to me.
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I fired, and the well-greased ball went true,
Cutting the skunk's old felt hat through,—
An inch too high, but it raised his hair,
And made the buzzards flap in the air.
Cutting the skunk's old felt hat through,—
An inch too high, but it raised his hair,
And made the buzzards flap in the air.
He bit his lip till the blood sprang out,
Then leaped up twice with a yell and a shout;
“Old coon,” he cried, “when I fire again,
I'll drill a hole in your Yankee brain.”
Then leaped up twice with a yell and a shout;
“Old coon,” he cried, “when I fire again,
I'll drill a hole in your Yankee brain.”
He rammed down the lead with an acid grin,
And his black smeared hand moved over his chin;
Then fired, and hit me close by the knee.
“Hallo!” he shouted, “that's one to me.”
And his black smeared hand moved over his chin;
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“Hallo!” he shouted, “that's one to me.”
But I poured in the powder, coarse and large,
Jammed down the cone of smooth-greased lead
(I'd measured him out my largest charge),
Then fired, and shot him clean through the head.
Jammed down the cone of smooth-greased lead
(I'd measured him out my largest charge),
Then fired, and shot him clean through the head.
| Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs | |