From the sheet music at The Maine Music Box:

NAPANEE, or MY PRETTY LITTLE INDIAN NAPANEE
A song founded on actual facts.
As sung in the comic opera success "The Royal Chef"
Words, Will S. Genaro. Music, W. R. Williams.
Chicago: Will Rossiter, 1906.

1. Out on the Indian reservation,
Far away from civilization,
Where the foot of "paleface" seldom trod,
White-man went to fish one summer,
Met an Indian girl, a hummer,
Daughter of the big chief "Spare-the-rod."
White-man threw some loving glances,
Took the maiden to war-dances,
Smoked the "pipe of peace," took chances,
Living in a teepee made of fir;
Rode with her on an Indian pony,
Gave her a diamond ring, a "phony,"
Then he sang these loving words to her:

CHORUS: You are my pretty little Indian Napanee.
Will you take a chance and marry me?
Though daddy is a chief,
'Tis my belief,
To a very merry wedding he'll agree.
True, you're a dark little Indian maid,
But I'll sunburn to a darker shade.
I'll wear feathers on my head,
Paint my face an Indian red,
If you'll only be my Napanee.

2. Sorry to say, his "con" talk caught her.
Soon he married the Big Chief's daughter,
Happiest couple that you ever saw,
Till his dream of love had faded.
Napanee looked old and jaded,
Just about like any other squaw.
Soon papooses came in numbers.
Redskin yells disturbed his slumbers.
White-man wonders at his blunders.
Now the feathers droop upon his head.
Too late now, but still he is wishing
That he had never gone a-fishing,
Or had met that Indian maid, and said: CHORUS.