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Last update, Aug 25, 2010

Play song 3:21
Windows Media
sung by Don Edwards
Album: Saddle Songs, Vol. 1
Artist biography

I'll tell you a story that will thrill you I know
Of a horse I once owned a long time ago
You will gaze at his picture with wondering eyes
And then at the arrow, that hangs by his side

He was swift as an antelope and black as a crow
With a star on his forehead as white as the snow
His arched neck was covered with a dark flowing mane
And I called him Patonio the pride of the plains

The country was new and the settlers were scarce
The Indians on the warpath were savage and fierce
Though the scouts were sent out everyday from the fort
Yet they never returned and we knew they were lost

One day the captian says someone must go
Across the dark borders of New Mexico
A dozen young fellows straightaway answered here
But the captain spied me I was standing right near

Patonio was by me his nose in my hand
Said the captain your horse is the best in the land
You're good for the ride your the lightest man here
On the back of that mustang you have nothing to fear

Then proud of my pony I answered you know
Patonio and I are both willing to go
For speed and endurance I'll trust in my black
Then they all shook my hand and I mounted his back

Turned down the dark pathway turned his head to the right
The black struck a trot and he kept it all night
When far back behind me I hear a shrill wail
I knew that the Indians were hot on my trail

I jingled the bells at the end of his rein
Spoke his name softly and stroked his dark mane
Patonio he answered with a nod of his head
His dark body lengthened as faster we sped

We were leaving the Indians the story was plain
The arrows fell round us like torents of rain
Patonio he stumbled I knew he was hurt
But still he raced onward and into the fort

I delivered the message then turned to dismount
But the pain in my foot was so bad I could not
The arrow you see hanging there on the wall
Had passed through my foot saddle stirrup and all

With good care and patients Pat and I were soon well
Of his death many years later I will not try to tell
Of all the fine horses I rode o'er the range
The was none like Patonio the pride of the plains

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