A friendly conversation with a Native American

So this Injun fellow Looked at the trees And said the wind was blowing Like a war party Was marching through Sometime soon And I looked at him Like he was a dog And said there's nothing in the wind That says anything about Anyone coming this way Anytime soon Then he said, "Son, you have too much to learn Too many paths to run To think you know better than me." I said the buffalo Were only cattle With more fur and Longer horns that Didn't know what a Stockade was And this Injun fellow Turned to me like He was some great Chippewa chief And I could see The fire in his eyes That said so much more Than any of his words That's when I Pulled out my ole' Winchester and levelled it between Those burning eyes And I said, "Son, you have too much to learn Too many paths to run If you think you can stare down A man with a gun." Then he twitched And I pulled the trigger Yeah, there was a war party coming through, And I did come through, Charging like a herd of buffalo