Here's a tall tale, just the way the old timers used to tell them. Pecos Bill was the roughest, toughest shootingest cowpoke that ever lived. Any story about Pecos is bound to be strong medicine. Maybe it's best to sashay into it gently. Shades of night are falling As the wind begins to sigh And the world is silhouetted Against the sky Blue shadows on the trail Blue moon shining through the trees And the plaintive wail from the distance Comes a-drifting On the evening breeze Move along, blue shadows! Move along! Soon the dawn will come And you'll be on your way But until the darkness sheds its veil There'll be blue shadows On the trail Move along, blue shadows Move along Move along Soon the dawn will come And you'll be on your way On your way But until the darkness sheds its veil There'll be blue shadows On the trail Shadows on the trail Uncle Roy, what makes the wolves howl like that? Wolves? Those are coyotes. Yes, Bobby's right. They howl when the moon is bright. Why? That's quite a story. Cowboys in it? Yes, sirree. Indians, too? Could be two or three. Mostly this story's about Pecos Bill. Pecos Bill? Who's he? Never heard of Pecos Bill? Imagine! I thought everybody knows Pecos. Bill was the world's greatest buckaroo. The roughest, toughest critter Never was a quitter Cos he never had no fear for man or beast Pecos Bill was Easy, Trigger, I won't forget his horse, Widowmaker. Widowmaker? That's a funny name. That horse earned it, just the same. A killer. Dynamite. Widowmaker was Bill's best pal. Until along came that beautiful prairie gal. Shucks, a woman! But what a woman. She was fresh as the dew On a prairie rose A true thoroughbred From her head to her toes That there was Slue Foot Sue Sweet Sue I'd rather hear about the coyotes. You started to say Why coyotes howl at the moon that way? You're right. It all fits together. You can't tell one without the other. The story of Bill and that gal is the story of why coyotes howl. I'm getting to the details now. Here on the map of the old US, completely surrounded by wilderness, lies Texas. There are some other states. Like Wyoming. Milwaukee. Long Island South. Down Texas way, a river flows. Where it comes from nobody knows. Down Texas way, a river flows. Where it comes from nobody knows. Where it's going, don't no one care. Just glad it's leaving there. The Pecos River. Pure alkali. Naturally mean water. The buzzards won't even touch it. Into this fertile garden spot came a prairie cart. There was Ma and Pa and 1 6 brats, four hound dogs. And a couple of cats. Going west looking for elbow room. Sure could use some of the same. Crossing the river bed, something fell out on to his head. They didn't even know he was gone. The wagon just kept rolling along. It was Bill, poor little critter. Homeless as a poker chip. Along came night and a prairie moon Old Ma Coyote a-hurrying home She was due for a shock at herjourney's end The stork had delivered a dividend One more than usual! It had never happened before. Probably one of them new-fangled models. Bill looked up and grinned Shucks! Ma 's old heart just caved in Bill saw that he needn 't fear He'd staked himself a claim here Headed straight for the chuck wagon. Bill was hungrier than a woodpecker with a headache. It followed as natural fact that Bill growed up with that coyote pack. He soon became the top hand in a way they all could understand. Little Bill couldn't rest till he'd proved himself the best. He studied other varmints, too, then showed them a trick or two. Outloped the antelope. Outjumped the jackrabbit. Bill even outhissed the rattlesnake. Then one day Across the burning sand A stranger came To the Pecos land The usual committee Was there today To welcome their guest In the usual way Fifty to one weren't no fair fight, but one plus Bill made it just about right. Well, it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. They stuck together like warts on a toad, like birds of a feather. When Bill growed up, of course, he chose a career to suit him and his horse. Yep, Bill became a rootin', tootin' cowboy. Pecos Bill was quite a cowboy down in Texas The western superman, to say the least The roughest, toughest critter Never was a quitter Cos he never had no fear of man nor beast So yippee aye-ay, aye-ay! Yippee aye-o! For the toughest critter west of the Alamo.