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for this song is also available
The Homesick Trapper (Stanley G. Triggs) There's a twisting trail a-winding to my trapline in the mountains Where the silky-pelted marten love to play. There's a bitter north wind blowing, but I'm packed up, so I'm going To those lonely mountain valleys far away. I hear the Red Gods calling from where the cricks are brawling And their voices stir me to the very core. And I cannot crush the longing for that little old log cabin Where the virgin forest grows beside my door. When the bear comes out of hiding down the trail I'11 come a-striding Till I reach the icy waters of the lake. And you'll know that I'm a-coming when you hear my outboard humming As it leaves a trail of bubbles in its wake. So I'11 see you in the springtime when the ice goes down the river And the noisy geese are winging o'er the bay; To those secret trysting places in those wide and open spaces Up the muddy Duncan River far away. Copyright Stanley G. Triggs RG
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!