The story of California Joe is true. While romanticized in this telling the basic facts are there and I won't sully the songs with the less virtuous information I found about this scout. Someday, I'm going to write a novel based loosely on this song. It always tugged at my heart. When it comes to music, I am a romantic. I just never seemed to be able to extend it to any other part of my life.
California Joe
Now mates I don't like stories
Nor am I going to act
A part around this camp fire
That's not a truthful fact
So fill your pipes and listen
I'll tell you let me see
I believe it was in fifty
From then to sixty-three.
You've all heard tell of Bridger
I used to ride with Jim.
And many a hard day's scouting
I've done by the side of him.
Well once near old Fort Reno
A trapper used to dwell
We called him old Pap Reynolds
The scouts all knew him well
One night in the spring of fifty
We camped on Powder River
We killed a calf of buffalo
And cooked a slice of liver
While eating well contented
WE heard three shots or four
Put out the fires and listened
We heard a dozen more.
We both knew old Pap Reynolds
Had moved his traps up here
So picking up our rifles
And fixing on our gear
We moved as quick as lightning
To save was our desire.
Too late the painted heathens (please no offended PC comments... this is from the 1800's)
Had set the house on fire.
We unhitched our horses quickly
And waded up the stream
While close beside the water's edge
I heard a muffled scream
And there among the bushes
A little girl did lie
I picked her up and whispered
I'll save you or I'll die.
Lord, what a ride Ol' Bridger
Had covered our retreat
Sometimes the child would murmur
In voices low and sweet
Poor papa God will take him
To mama up above
There's no one left to love me
There's no one left to love.
The little girl was thirteen
And I was twenty-two
Said I, I'll be your papa
And love you just as true.
She nestled in my arms there
Her hazel eyes so bright.
Looked up and made me happy
Though close pursued that night.
One month had flown and Maggie
WE called her hazel eyes
In truth was going to leave me
Was going to say goodbye
Her uncle Matt Jack Reynolds
Reported long since dead
Had come to claim my angel
His brother's child he said.
What could I say, we parted.
Matt Jack was growing old.
I handed him a bank note
And all I had in gold.
They rode away at sunrise.
I went a mile or two,
In parting said, "we'll meet again
"May God watch over you."
Thirteen years later
By a spreading dancing stream
A little cottage stood
And weary from a long day's ride
I spied it in the wood.
A little valley stretched beyond
The mountains towered above,
And near it's willow banks I
Heard the cooing of a dove.
It was one grand pleasure
The brook was plainly seen
Like a long thread of silver
In a cloth of lovely green
The laughing of the water
The cooing of the dove
Was like some painted picture
some well told tale of love.
While drinking from the canteen
And resting in the saddle
I heard the gentle rippling
Of the dipping of a paddle
And turning to the water
A strange sight met my view.
A lady with her rifle
In a little bark canoe.
She stood up in the center
The rifle to her eyes.
I thought just for a moment
My time had come to die.
I tipped my hat and told her
if it was just the same
To drop her little shooter,
For I was not her game.
She dropped the deadly weapon
And leaped from the canoe.
Said, "Sir I beg your pardon
"I thought you were a Souix.
"Your long hair, your buckskin
"Looked warrior like and rough.
"My bead was spoiled by the sunshine
"Or I'd killed you sure enough."
"Perhaps it'd would've been better
"If you'd dropped me then," says I.
"For surely such an angel
"Would bear me to the sky."
She blushed and dropped her eyelids
Her cheeks were crimson red
One half-shy glance she gave me
And then hung down her head.
I took her little hand in mine
She wondered what it meant.
And yet she drew it not away
But rather seemed content.
We sat upon the mossy banks
Her eyes began to fill.
The brook was running at our feet.
And the dove was cooing still.
I smoothed her golden tresses
Her eyes looked up in mine.
She seemed in doubt though murmured,
"It's been such a long long time!"
Strange arms were thrown around me,
"I'll save you or I'll die!"
I clasped her in my arms there
My long lost hazel eyes.
The rapture of that moment
Was almst heaven to me.
I kissed her 'mid the teardrops
Of innocence and glee.
Her heart near mine was pounding
When soberly she said,
"My dear, my brave pursuer,
"They told me you were dead."
"But those parting words Joe
"Have never left my mind.
"You said, 'WE'll meet again Maggie'
"And rode of into time.
"But oh, how I have prayed Joe
"For you who saved my life
"That God would send an angel
"To guide you through all strife."
We found the old man sleeping
"Hush, Maggie let him rest."
And the sun was slowly sinking
In the far off golden west.
And though we spoke in whispers
He open wide his eyes.
"A dream, a dream he murmured
"Alas a dream of lies."
She drifted like a shadow
To where the old man lay
"You've had a dream dear uncle
"Another dream today?"
"Oh yes I saw an angel!
"As pure as mountain snow
"And near her at my bedside
"Stood California Joe."
"Now I am not an angel
"Dear uncle that you know
"My arms are brown, my hands too
"My face is not like snow.
"But listen while I tell you
'for I have news to cheer.
"Hazel eyes are happy
"For Joe is surely here."
It was a few days later
The old man said to me.
"Joe she is an angel
"As good as angels be
"for three long months she's hunted
"And trapped and nursed me too.
"God bless her Joe I'll leave her,
"She's safe along with you."
It was one year later
When Mag my wife and I,
Went riding through this valley
The teardrops in her eyes.
One year ago today Joe
I saw that mosssy grave
That lay beneath the daisies
My uncle good and brave.
And comrade every springtime
Is sure to find me here
There's something in this valley
That's always fresh and fair
Our newly love was kindled
While sitting 'neath that stream
And two fond hearts united
In love's sweet happy dream.
| 