“But Lord! You ortn’t be so careless! Don’t you know you ain’t nothin’ but jest a target? Why don’t you keep out o’ sight a little? You come a-shinneyin’ up to nine out o’ ten men ‘long the river like this, an’ your purty, coaxin’, palaverin’ way won’t save a feather on you. You’ll get the little red heart shot plumb outen your little red body, an’ that’s what you’ll get. It’s a dratted shame! An’ there’s laws to protect you, too. They’s a good big fine for killin’ such as you, but nobody seems to push it. Every fool wants to test his aim, an’ you’re the brightest thing on the river bank for a mark...

Well, if you’ll stay where you are, it ‘ull be a sorry day for any cuss ‘at teches you; ‘at I’ll promise you, Mr. Redbird. This land’s mine, an’ if you locate on it, you’re mine till time to go back to that old fellow ‘at looks like me." (Song 49-50)