And from Wellman's John the Balladeer:

“Friends," I said, “let me try a song they call ‘Murder Bull.’ I learnt it from a Texas man, who said the thing truly happened in
his part of the world."
I struck a chord, then another chord, to make sure I was sure of the tune, and started out:
         

"When the night is dark and stormy
And the ghost wind moans and chills,
They tell about the Murder Bull
That roams the Texas hills.

“It was at that big roundup
In eighteen eighty-four,
Two riders claimed a stray bull calf
On the old Red River shore.

"He wasn't much to fight for,
But Jillson's hate was black;
He fired a shot through Graham's chest
And it came out the back.

"Graham drew his bowie knife
And struck in Jillson's side,
And both fell down, and no one knew
Which was the first that died."

"Ohh,” I heard a pretty-dressed lady say from the front log as I went on:

"The others at the roundup,
They gathered round and said,
"There's none of us will claim that calf,
Now both of them are dead.”

"A running iron they heated,
The calf they roped and tied,
And in big, burning letters
Spelled MURDER on his hide.”

I heard the whole listening bunch draw in their breath.

“They drove him out to roam the hills,
And when his time was full,
He grew up big and terrible,
The maverick Murder Bull.

"And many a year's been born and died,
But still he prowls at night
With MURDER branded on his flank
In letters red and bright.

"If you live in East Texas,
Be always on your guard,
Because some night the bull may come,
Walk right into your yard.

"While you sit in there, watching
The fire that dulls and dies,
He’ll come up to your window
With MURDER in his eyes.

"Then turn and look the other way
And hold your frightened breath,
For if you face the Murder Bull
His eyes will give you death.”

I finished and laid my palm on the guitar strings to make them quiet. Then I bowed and waited.
There was dead silence all over, for while I counted about half a dozen ticks. Then they broke out with their racket. I walked off, and Brooke Altic met me as I came down the steps from the stage. He grabbed my hand in his thin, strong one and shook it.
         
“That was magnificent, John,” he said. “Listen to them applaud.”