" The Adventures of Cherokee Joe "
It was in the year of 1908
It doesn't seem that long ago
There was an old man in our town
His name was Cherokee Joe
I remember people saying
Joe had always been around
Living in his old weathered shack
That set in the woods just out of town
Some doubted he was even Cherokee
Saying he was more likely Blackfoot or Crow
But all I ever heard him called
Was simply, Cherokee Joe
I was just a child
And I suppose I was a pest
But I loved to hear Joe's stories
About the old wild and woolly west
Joe would always get a smile
As he spoke of life out on the trail
And it would get your heart just pounding
The way Joe would spin a tale
Most thought his stories were just fiction
But it was the excitement that he gave
When Joe would lean back in his rocker
And tell of his exploits as a brave
Like when Joe made his great escape
From that frightful Trail of Tears
Or when he battled Gen Custer
And outwitted the calvary all those years
He spoke of living off the land
With just his trusty bow
And riding across the plains
While tracking buffalo
Adults felt he was harmless
Saying his stories were only play
But all their jokes and laughter
Would end on a cold and frosty day
For a child had wandered off
She was no more than three or four
Then a northern started blowing
And the icy winds began to roar
Her search was called off at nightfall
When the snow began to blow
All believed her fate was lost
Except for Cherokee Joe
I watched him dawn his bow and arrow
As others said a prayer
He wrapped himself in buffalo hide
Then placed a feather in his hair
The others shouted, Don't be a Fool
But Joe ignored their warning
And as he disappeared out in the storm
Most felt he would freeze to death by
morning
He braved the fury of the storm
That by now had grown so wild
Finally word came back at sunrise
Cherokee Joe had found the child
Some still rolled their eyes and scoffed
As Joe told a frightening tale
Saying that he killed a large silver wolf
That was stalking the child's trail
But when the storm had finally cleared
Found where the river makes it's part
Lay the body of a large silver wolf
With Joe's arrow through it's heart
Joe passed away a few years later
At the age of ninety three
But our Joe he died a hero
For all the world to see
Joe's stories were not forgotten
But since his death they've grew
But that's not to surprising
As legends often do
Were his stories true or false
I guess we'll never really know
Yet there is nothing I'd still rather hear
Than the " Adventures of Cherokee Joe "
Written by:
Robert PledgerŠ
5/19/08
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