Billy Walker - Patanio The Pride Of The Plains Chords

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You look at the picture with a wondering eye

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And then at the arrow that's hanging close by

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Say tell a story as there's one I know

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Of a horse I once owned down in New Mexico


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He was swift as an antelope and black as a crow

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With a star on his forehead as white as the snow

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His arched neck was hidden by a long flowing mane

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And they called him Patanio the pride of the plains 


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The country was new then the settlers were scarce

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The Indians on the warpath were savage and fierce

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Scouts were sent out everyday from the post

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But they never came back so we knew they were lost

  
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One day the Captain said someone must go

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For help to the border of New Mexico

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A dozen brave fellows straight way answered here

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But the Captain he spied me and said son come here


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Patanio beside me his nose in my hand

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Said the captain your horse is the best in the land

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You're good for this ride you're the lightest man here

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On the back of that mustang you've nothing to fear


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I'm proud of my horse sir I answered you know

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Patanio and I are both willing to go

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They all shook my hand as I mounted the black

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Patanio sped forward and I gave him his slack


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For eighty long miles over the plains we must go

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For help to the border of New Mexico

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The black struck a trot and he kept it all night

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Till just as the east was beginning to light


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When back from behind me there came a fierce yell

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We knew that the redskins were hot on our trail

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I rose up and jingled the bells on his rein
 
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And I stoked his neck softly and I called him by name


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He answered my touch with a toss of his head

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And his black body lengthened as onward he sped

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The arrows fell round me like showers of rain

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When in my left leg oh I felt a sharp pain


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The red blood was flowing from Patanio's side

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But he never once shortened his powerful stride

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Patanio poor fellow I knew he was hurt

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But still he dashed onward and on to the fort


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By good care Patanio and I were soon well

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Of his death long years after it hurts me to tell

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They write songs about him the cowboys still sing

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The legend lives on of his long flowing mane


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So look at the arrow that hangs on the wall

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It was shot through my leg boot stirrup and all

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On many fine horses I've since drawn the reins

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But none like Patanio the pride of the plains