Two mountain men came a ridin' or the hill.

One was a pilgrim and the other a graybeard.

They roamed and trapped and hunted beaver ,mink and deer.

They loved the mountains.How could they disappear?

They always would be here.

There were trees and streams and lakes and game and all were in a plenty.

There were buffalo on land so far and wide.

They were free to roam and be alone

And loved the beauty of it.

But danger grew and each man knew that it might not remain.

One foggy morn while they were checking all their traps

Ten Blackfoot warriors yelled vengeance and attacked.

They scalped ol' graybeard and left pilgrim there to die.

What was the reason?

He wondered with a sigh.He wondered with a sigh.

Could it be because the whites had come and killed off all their brothers?

Or is it because they chased of all their game?

Would it be because the trees are gone and all the beauty of it?

He wondered which ... Or all of it.... But he was not to blame.

One mountain man comes a ridin' or the hill

Once he was a pilgrim but now he is a graybeard.

He roamed and trapped and hunted beaver mink and deer.

He loved the mountains.

How could they disappear?

How soon will he die here?

Linda Pritchard 1973