You look at the picture with a wondering eye
And then at the arrow that hangs by its side
You ask for the story you know there is one
Of a horse named Plantonio the story's begun.

The west was new and settlers were scarce
Indians on the war path were savage and fierce
Scouts were sent out every day from the fort
But they never returned and we knew they were lost.

Then one day the Captain said "Someone must go,
For help to the border of New Mexico"
A dozen brave men raised a hand and said "Here"
But the Captain just spied a black horse standing near.

Plantonio was beside me with his nose in my hand
The Captain said "Your horse is the best in the land.
You're best for the long ride, you're the lightest man here,
On the back of that Mustang you've nothing to fear."

I shook all their hands and mounted my horse
Sped down the dark pathway and turned his head north
He answered each touch with a toss of his head
His black body lengthened as onward he sped.

Plantonio kept that pace all through the night
Til the sun in the east was beginning to light
We were beating the redskins the story was plain
And the arrows fell round us like showers of rain.

We were beating the redskins the story was plain
Then, in my leg I felt a sharp pain
An arrow brought blood from Plantonio's side
But he never once shortened that powerful stride

Plontonio old fellow I knew he was hurt
We dashed up the trail and into the fort
On many fine horses I've since drawn a rein
But none like Plantonio the pride of the plains.