Classic Poem

Sad and dismal is the tale
I now relate to you,
'Tis all about the cattlemen,
Them and their murderous crew.
They started out on their man hunt,
Precious blood to spill,
With a gang of hired assassins
To murder at their will.

God bless poor Nate and Nick
Who gave their precious lives
To save the town of Buffalo,
Its brave men and their wives.
If it hadn't been for Nate and Nick
What would we have come to?
We would have all been murdered by
Frank Canton and his crew.

Poor Nate Champion is no more,
He lost his precious life,
He lies down in the valley
Freed from all care and strife.
He tried to run the gantlet
When they had burned his home
And Nick was lying lifeless,
Lips wet with bloody foam.

The run was made; his doom was sealed,
A fact you all know well.
They left his lifeless body there
On the slope, above the dell.
No kindred near to care for him,
To grasp his nerveless hand;
A braver man was never faced
By Canton's bloody band.

The very next name upon the list
Was that of brave Jack Flagg.
Frank Canton must have surely thought
That he would “fill his bag.”
Jack and his stepson came in view
A-riding round the curve;
“Throw up your hands! By God they're off!”
Frank Canton lost his nerve.

“Red Angus” next, the “Canny Scot,”
Was marked for Canton's lead;
But Angus, warned by bold Jack Flagg,
For aid and succor, sped.
The countryside now swarmed to life,
The settlers armed in haste;
Soon “Red” had hundreds at his back
Who Canton's minions faced.

To Crazy Woman's winding bank
The cowed invaders fled.
With K. C., blazing in their rear,
And Ray and Champion dead.
Here, held at bay the cravens halt
Till soldiers come to aid;
And now secure in jail they rest,
The debt of blood, unpaid.