Further Language from Truthful James

Do I sleep? do I dream?     Do I wonder and doubt?     Are things what they seem?     Or is visions about?     Is our civilization a failure?     Or is the Caucasian played out?     Which expressions are strong;     Yet would feebly imply     Some account of a wrong     Not to call it a lie     As was worked off on William, my pardner,     And the same being W. Nye.     He came down to the Ford     On the very same day     Of that lottery drawed     By those sharps at the Bay;     And he says to me, Truthful, how goes it?     I replied, It is far, far from gay;     For the camp has gone wild     On this lottery game,     And has even beguiled     Injin Dick by the same.     Then said Nye to me, Injins is pizen:     But what is his number, eh, James?     I replied, 7, 2,     9, 8, 4, is his hand;     When he started, and drew     Out a list, which he scanned;     Then he softly went for his revolver     With language I cannot command.     Then I said, William Nye!     But he turned upon me,     And the look in his eye     Was quite painful to see;     And he says, You mistake; this poor Injin     I protects from such sharps as you be!     I was shocked and withdrew;     But I grieve to relate,     When he next met my view     Injin Dick was his mate;     And the two around town was a-lying     In a frightfully dissolute state.     Which the war dance they had     Round a tree at the Bend     Was a sight that was sad;     And it seemed that the end     Would not justify the proceedings,     As I quiet remarked to a friend.     For that Injin he fled     The next day to his band;     And we found William spread     Very loose on the strand,     With a peaceful-like smile on his features,     And a dollar greenback in his hand;     Which the same, when rolled out,     We observed, with surprise,     Was what he, no doubt,     Thought the number and prize     Them figures in red in the corner,     Which the number of notes specifies.     Was it guile, or a dream?     Is it Nye that I doubt?     Are things what they seem?     Or is visions about?     Is our civilization a failure?     Or is the Caucasian played out?