Bill Hendriks walked into an indian village,
Where the smallpox plague had done it's dirty work,
He was turning round to go when a little Navajo,
Reached up and tore a button from his shirt.
The smallpox plague had left no mark upon him,
No One lived except this little baby boy,
And when Bill made sure that he had no fever,
His lonely heart was filled with peace and joy.
He took him home and mother Hendriks fed him,
And she quickly learned to love him too,
With charity and patience they both led him,
Down the road of life with Bill and Sue.
One day Bill said to Sue I'm going huntin',
I've noticed that our fresh meats getting low,
She said I think you should and take him with you,
It's time you taught the woods to Injun Joe.
By nightfall they had killed two deer and skinned 'em,
And then a blizz-ard started in to blow,
They couldn't find the trail that brought them up there,
Bill finally said I'm lost Injun Joe.
And then a strange thing started in to happen,
Through the snowflakes Bill could see Joe's slender form,
He gathered wood and quickly built a campfire,
But he didn't build it just to keep 'em warm.
He watched the smoke and soon found their di-rection,
And he led Bill home right through that ice and snow,
Be-cause Bill spared a life his life was given,
Back to him by Little Ingun Joe.