DEATH OF A MAIDEN FAIR "Obtained from Miss Rachel Tucker, Varnell, Georgia, December, 1930. Miss Tucker is the granddaughter of Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Harmon, formerly of Cade's Cove, Tennessee.
1. There was a fair maiden; She lived on the plains; She helped me herd cattle Through the cold rain and snow.
2.She help me herd cattle The year in and up; She would take a drink with me From the strong whisky cup.
3. She drink as strong whisky That effects a man's soul; She help me herd cattle Through the cold rain and snow.
4.I learned her the cow trade, A ranger's command, How to hold a six-shooter In a neat little hand.
5. How to hold a six-shooter And never to run As long as she had a bullet Or a load for her gun.
8. We camp by the canyon In the fall of the year; We stood there one season With a herd of fat steers.
7. The red skins broke on us In the middle of the night.
8.She arose from her bed With a gun in each hand: 'Come, all of you young cowboys, Let's win this fair land.'
9. Loud roared the thunder And down came the rain; In come a stray bullet And blew out her brains."
10. I jumped in my saddle And this was the cry: "Come, all of you young cowboys, Right here we must die, For these redskins has murdered My dear, darling wife."
Theodore Garrison. "Forty-Five Folk Songs Collected from Searcy County Arkansas," Mid-America Folklore, Vol. 30, Fall 2002, pp. 167-168:
THE FAIR LADY
Sung by Mrs. Daisy Turner of Zack, Arkansas, in July, 1942.
There was a fair lady, Lived out on the plain; She'd help me herd cattle Through slow, steady rain.
She'd help me heard cattle All through the round-up; She'd drink her red liquor From a full, brimming cup.
She'd drink her red liquor; It would affect her own soul. There was a fair lady As white as the snow.
We camped at the stock yard In the fall of the year; Stayed all of the winter In the herd of the steers.
The Indians would attack us Mid-hours of the night; She owuld rise from her warm bed The battle to fight.
She would rise from her warm bed; Now loud she would cry, "Come, all you brave cowboys, Right here we must die!"
Loud roared the thunder, Down poured the rain. Then came astray bullet And dashed out her brains.
I sprang to my saddle With a gun in each hand. Come all you brave cowboys, Let's win this fair land.
We'll win this fair land If it costs me my life, For the Indians have murdered My darling sweet wife.
Shining bright rifles, We fed them cold lead, Till many an Indian Lay round that shack dead.
Otis Pierce, born 1902 in Douglas Co., Mo., recorded a version he called "Fair Maiden on the Plains" on the LP "Every Bush and Tree" (Bay 102, 1975).
I've ordered "Two-Gun Cyclone" through my library. Stay tuned.