You never hear tell, Marie, ma femme,
Of Bruno de hunter man,
Wit' hees wild dogs chasin' de moose an' deer,
Every day on de long, long year,
Off on de hillside far an' near,
An' down on de beeg savane?
Not'ing can leev' on de woods, Marie,
W'en Bruno is on de track,
An' young caribou, an' leetle red doe
Wit' baby to come on de spring, dey know
De pity dey get w'en hees bugle blow
An' de black dogs answer back.
No bird on de branch can finish hees song,
De squirrel no longer play--
De leaf on de maple don't need to wait
Till fros' of October is at de gate
'Fore de blood drops come: an' de fox sleeps late
W'en Bruno is pass dat way.
So de devil ketch heem of course at las'
Dat's w'at de ole folk say,
An' spik to heem, "Bruno, w'at for you kill
De moose an' caribou of de hill
An' fill de woods wit' deir blood until
You could run a mill night an' day?"
"Mebbe you lak to be moose youse'f,
An' see how de hunter go,
So I'll change your dogs into loup garou,
An' wance on de year dey'll be chasin' you--
An' res' of de tam w'en de sport is troo,
Youll pass wit' me down below."
An' dis is de night of de year, Marie,
Bruno de hunter wake:
Soon as de great beeg tonder cloud
Up on de mountains roarin' loud--
Hell come from hees grave w'ere de pine tree crowd
De shore of de leetle lake.
You see de lightning zig, zig, Marie,
Spittin' lak' loup cervier,
Ketch on de trap? Oh! it won't be long
Till mebbe you lissen anoder song,
For de sky is dark an' de win' is strong,
An' de chase is n't far away.
W'y shiver so moche, Marie, ma femme,
For de log is burnin' bright?
Ah! dere she's goin', "Hulloo! Hulloo!"
An' oh! how de tonder is roarin' too!
But it can't drown de cry of de loup garou
On Bruno de hunter's night.
Over de mountain an' t'roo de swamp,
Don't matter how far or near,
Every place hees moccasin know
Bruno de hunter hes got to go
'Fore de grave on de leetle lake below
Close up for anoder year.
But dey say de ole feller watch all night,
So you need n't be scare, Marie,
For hell never stir from de rocky cave
W'ere door only open beneat' de wave,
Till Bruno come back to hees lonely grave--
An' de devil he turn de key.
Dats way for punish de hunter man
W'en murder is on hees min'--
So he better stop w'ile de work is new,
Or mebbe de devil will ketch heem too,
An' chase heem aroun' wit' de loup garou
Gallopin' close behin'.
