With an old-timer nicknamed Jake,
Who'd hired a canoe;
And with a bunch of sourdoughs[2]
Intended, e're the river rose
In flood, to push on through.
This man soon got himself disliked
As up the rapid stream they piked
And oft by rapids lined.
His overbearing ways were met
With keen expressions of regret
He'd not been left behind.
At length the crew a village saw
Of Indians who had a store
In goods where Jan did trade.
The others knew their chance at last
They could not get away too fast
When off ashore he'd strayed.
They threw his pack out on the bank,
Their late companion's health they drank
With hopes they'd never meet;
But Jan, their move when he realized,
Came hurrying greatly surprised,
And flushed with angry heat.
Some most profane remarks he made
And said that he was not afraid
To thrash the blooming crew,
Their ancestors were not forgot,
He hoped old Nick would make it hot
For any that he knew.
One parting curse did Jan call down,