Big bold Injun brave loves a little copper colored squaw,
His foes capture her along the Highway.
He does whoop and rave, calls his mighty tribe to go to war;
Heap much scouting, war whoops shouting,
Out to do or die, all skulking in a sly way.
Dark night out for fight, swooping down the valley from the hill,
Comes that mighty tribe without a warning.
Wigwam soon they storm fighting with the enemy to kill,
Bravely battling, Gun shots rattling,
Big chief rescues squaw and weds her in the morning.
Creeping on the enemy sleeping,
wily warriors sweeping,
Soon leave those red men dead men,
fly away to hide and soon the maiden,
'Neath the moonbeams fading,
Little heart love laden,
is the Indian's bride.
Big bold Injun brave held his little Princess on his arm,
Dashed off madly on his little pony.
Left his foes to rave, while he took her safely out of harm,
Heap quick marrying, no use tarrying,
Sweet Miss, big kiss Just to steal the ceremony.
Big row all done now, Ev'ry Injun wears a little smile,
Big Chief never ugly any more now.
Wars cease, pipe of peace firewater plenty all the while,
Big owls hooting,Each night scooting,
All time make big Injun dream about a pow-wow.