Their hoof-beats were ringing loud and clear,
As the great black stallion's herd drew near.
He turned them left and he turned them right
And over the hill and out of sight.
There was the crack of whips and the sound of a gun
And the horse-wrangler's spurs gleamed bright in the sun:
The stallion shrill-whinnied and tossed up his head
And galloped away to the range dead ahead.