Billy Walker - Patanio the pride of the plains

^CYou look at the picture with a ^G7wondering ^Ceye And then at the arrow that's ^G7hanging close ^Cby

Say tell a story as ^Fthere's one I ^Cknow Of a horse I once owned down ^G7in New Mexi^Cco

He was swift as an antelope and ^G7black as a ^Ccrow With a star on his forehead as ^G7white as the ^Csnow

His arched neck was hidden by a ^Flong flowing ^Cmane And they called him Patanio the ^G7pride of the ^Cplains

The country was new then the ^G7settlers were ^Cscarce The Indians on the warpath were ^G7savage and ^Cfierce

Scouts were sent out every^Fday from the ^Cpost But they never came back so we ^G7knew they were ^Clost

One day the Captain said ^G7someone must ^Cgo For help to the border ^G7of New Mexi^Cco

A dozen brave fellows straight ^Fway answered ^Chere But the Captain he spied me and ^G7said son come ^Chere

Patanio beside me his ^G7nose in my ^Chand Said the captain your horse is the ^G7best in the ^Cland

You're good for this ride you're the ^Flightest man ^Chere On the back of that mustang ^G7you've nothing to ^Cfear

I'm proud of my horse sir ^G7I answered you ^Cknow Patanio and I are both ^G7willing to ^Cgo

They all shook my hand as ^FI mounted the ^Cblack Patanio sped forward and I ^G7gave him his ^Cslack

For eighty long miles over the ^G7plains we must ^Cgo For help to the border ^G7of New Mexi^Cco

The black struck a trot and ^Fhe kept it all ^Cnight Till just as the east was ^G7beginning to ^Clight

When back from behind me there ^G7came a fierce ^Cyell We knew that the redskins were ^G7hot on our ^Ctrail

I rose up and jingled the ^Fbells on his ^Crein And I stoked his neck softly and ^G7I called him by ^Cname

He answered my touch with a ^G7toss of his ^Chead And his black body lengthened ^G7as onward he ^Csped

The arrows fell round me ^Flike showers of ^Crain When in my left leg oh I ^G7felt a sharp ^Cpain

The red blood was flowing from ^G7Patanio's ^Cside But he never once shortened his ^G7powerful ^Cstride

Patanio poor fellow I ^Fknew he was ^Churt But still he dashed onward ^G7and on to the ^Cfort

By good care Patanio and ^G7I were soon ^Cwell Of his death long years after it ^G7hurts me to ^Ctell

They write songs about him the ^Fcowboys still ^Csing The legend lives on of his ^G7long flowing ^Cmane

So look at the arrow that ^G7hangs on the ^Cwall It was shot through my leg boot ^G7stirrup and ^Call

On many fine horses I've ^Fsince drawn the ^Creins But none like Patanio the ^G7pride of the ^Cplains