I rode a horse, a dappled bay,
Coal-black his mane and tail,--
A horse who never needed spur,
Nor curb, nor martingale.
And by my side three others rode,
Sun-tanned, long-haired, and grim,
Wild men led on by Edmondson,
Jim Polk, you’ve heard of him.
Behind us galloped, four by four,
A swarthy, mottled band
Of reckless fellows, chosen from
The bravest in the land.
Whither away on that fair day?
Oh, just a dash for fun.
To speed our horses, and keep up
With Jim Polk Edmondson.
Behind our backs we left the hills;
We crossed the Salliquoy;
My right-hand comrade smiled and said,
“I fished here when a boy.”
Then from the rise at Hogan’s house,
I saw, as in a dream,
Reed-fringed, and silver-blue, and deep,
The Coosawattee gleam.
A shot rang out! A bullet split
The air so close to me
I felt the keen hot puff; and then
A roar of musketry.
A wind of lead blew from the wood;
We took it at a run:
We sped so fast along the lane
The worm-fence panels spun.
A horse went down, a dying face
Scowled darkly at the sky;
A bullet clipped my comrade’s hat
And lopped the brim awry.
“Come, boys; come on!” our leader cried.
Pellmell we struck the line;
My comrade’s pistol spat its balls,
And likewise so did mine.
A swirl of smoke, with rifts of fire,
Enveloped friend and foe;
Death, so embarrassed, hardly knew
Which way his strokes must go.
The fight closed in on every side,
And tore one spot of ground;
There was not room to swing an arm,
Or turn your horse around.
A moment thus, and then we broke
The circle of our foes.
Old Hogan, in his doorway, heard
The crunching of our blows,
The while we used our pistol-butts,
As swords, on many a head;
And yet, and yet, down in that wood
We left our leader,--dead.
So, now you know just how it was
We had our little fun,
Speeding our horses to keep up
With Jim Polk Edmondson.