Jeff Warner has this version on his Website:

River Driving
Text collected by Jeanne Robert Foster, ca. 1916.

River driving on the Sacondog,
Floating on the slippery logs,
Sleeping in the frozen bog,
My girl’s waiting for me.

Hard-boiled eggs three times a day,
Wet as beavers we hit the hay,
Not much sleep, but great good pay,
My girl’s waiting for me.

Big French Joe and I went out,
To break the jam when I heard him shout,
“Prenez garde!” and the jam went out,
My girl’s waiting for me.

Big French Joe, the logs drowned him,
He had no chance to fight nor swim,
With the logs jammed up to the river’s rim,
My girl’s waiting for me.

His girl comes to me and cries,
“If he’s dead then I shall die,
‘Ma petite,’ he used to sigh,”
My girl’s waiting for me.

We will find him down below,
Around the bend where the water is slow,
Floating with his pike in tow,
My girl’s waiting for me.

“Ma petite” will wring her hands,
As we scrape away at the yellow sand,
And bury him by the river’s strand,
My girl’s waiting for me.

One more night and one more day,
And the logs will reach the river bay,
And I’ll skin off these togs and I will say,
My girl’s waiting for me.

http://jeffwarner.com/JTlyrics.html