A NEW EXPERIENCE.
The next day about noon I came to my senses. I found myself all alone in a nice little room on a soft bed. I tried to get up but it was useless; my back felt as if it was broken. I couldn't think what had happened to me. But finally the door opened and in stepped a doctor, who explained the whole matter. He said the captain, just as the boat was fixing to pull out, was walking through the passage way when he heard my groans down in the hold and getting a lantern, ladder and help, fished me out almost lifeless. I was in the captain's private room and having the best of care. The back of my head was swollen out of shape, it having struck on one of the cross timbers, while my back landed across another. The doctor said I owed my life to the captain for finding me, "for," said he, "if you had remained in there twenty minutes longer your case would have been hopeless."
At last we arrived in Memphis, Tenn. We had been traveling very slowly on account of having to stop at all the small landings and unload freight or take on more.
After landing at Memphis I took a notion that a little walk would help my lame back, so I struck out along the river bank, very slowly.
During my walk I came across a drove of small snipe, and having my pistol with me, I shot at them. The pistol report attracted the attention of two boys who were standing not far off. They came over to me, and one of them, the oldest, who was on crutches, having only one leg, asked how much I would take for my "shooter?" I told him I would take ten dollars for it, as I was in need of money. He examined it carefully and then said: "It's a trade buddy, but you will have to go up to that little house yonder, to get the money, as I havn't got that much with me."
The house he pointed out stood off by itself to the right of the town, which was situated about a mile from the river. The house in question being half a mile off, I told him that I was too weak to walk that far, on account of my back being out of whack. "Well," said he, "you go with us as far as that bigsand hill yonder," pointing to a large red sand hill a few hundred yards from where we stood, "and my chum here, who has got two good legs, will run on and get the money while we wait."
I agreed, not suspecting anything wrong and when behind the sand hill, out of sight of the steamboat landing, Mr. one-leg threw down on me with my own "shooter" and ordered me to throw up my hands. I obeyed and held mighty still while the other young ruffian went through my pockets. They walked off with everything I had in my pockets, even took my valise key. I felt considerably relieved, I can assure you, when the cocked revolver was taken down from within a few inches of my nose. I was in dread for fear his trembling finger might accidently touch the trigger.
As soon as I was released I went right back to the landing and notified a policeman who struck out after them. But whether he caught them or not I never knew, as the "Bart Able" steamed down the river shortly afterwards.
The same evening after arriving in New Orleans the "Bart Able" pulled back, for Saint Louis, leaving me there flat broke and among strangers.
I looked terribly blue late that evening as I walked up and down the crowded levee studying what to do. I had already been to the Morgan steamship landing and begged for a chance to work my way to Texas, but met with poor success. I could not hire out even if I had applied and got a job, for my back was still stiff, so much so that I couldn't stoop down without terrible pain.
That night I laid down under an old tarpaulin which was spread over a lot of sugar.
After getting up and shaking the dust off next morning, I went down the river about a mile where scores of small boats were being unloaded.
Among them were several boat loads of oranges, bananas, etc., which were being unloaded. In carrying the bananas on shore the over ripe ones would drop off. On those I made my breakfast, but I wished a thousand times before night that I had not eaten them, for Oh Lord, how my head did ache!
That night I went to sleep on a pile of cotton bales—that is I tried to sleep, but my headache was terrible, I could get but little repose.
The next morning I found there was a Morgan steamship in from Texas, and I struck out to interviewthe captain in regard to a free ride to Texas. But the old pot-bellied sinner wouldn't talk to me.
In the afternoon I began to grow weak from hunger and my back ached badly. I sat down on an old stove at the foot of Canal street and never moved for three long hours.
Finally a well dressed old man about fifty years of age, with an umbrella over his head, came out of Couens' office, a small building a short distance from where I sat, and walking up to me said, in a gruff voice, "young man what are you sitting out here in the sun for, so upright and stiff, as if nailed to that old stove?"
I told him I was compelled to sit upright on account of a lame back. In fact I laid my case before him in full. He then said in a much more pleasant voice: "My boy I'm going to make you an offer, and you can take it or let it alone—just as you like. I will give you four dollars a month to help my wife around the house and at the end of four months will give you a free pass to Texas. You see I am agent for Couens' Red River line of boats and, therefore, can get a pass cheap."
I accepted his offer at once and thanked him with all my heart for his kindness. Being onhis way home, we boarded a Canal street car. It was then almost sundown.
About a half hour's ride brought us within half a block of our destination.
Walking up a pair of nicely finished steps at No. 18 Derbigny street, he rang a bell. A negro servant whom he called "Ann," answered the call. Everything sparkled within, for the house was furnished in grand style. The old gentleman introduced me to his wife as a little Texas hoosier that had strayed off from home and was about to starve.
After supper "Miss Mary," as the servants called Mrs. Myers and as I afterwards called her showed me to the bath house and told me to give myself an extraordinary good scrubbing.
I do not know as this improved my looks any, as I hadn't any clean clothes to put on, my valise having been stolen during my illness coming down the river.
The next day Miss Mary took me to a clothing house and fitted me out in fine style. I admired all but the narrow brimmed hat and peaked toed gaiters. I wanted a broad brimmed hat and star top boots, but she said I would look too much like a hoosier with them on.
That evening I got a black eye. After Mr. Myers came home from his work about four o'clock, we all went out on the front steps to breathe the fresh air. There being a crowd of boys playing at the corner I asked Mr. and Mrs. Myers if I could go over and watch them awhile. Both consented, but told me not to stay long as they didn't want me to get into the habit of mixing with the street loafers.
On arriving there all eyes were turned towards me. One fellow yelled out, "Hello dandy, when did you arrive!" and another one remarked, "He is a stiff cuss—aint he?"
I concluded there was nothing to be seen and turned back; just as I turned around a yellow negro boy slipped up behind me and pulled my hair. The white boys had put him up to it, no doubt.
I jumped aboard of him quicker than a flash and forgot all about my sore back. It was nip and tuck for awhile—we both being about the same size, but I finally got him down and blooded his nose in good shape. As I went to get up he kicked me over one eye with his heavy boot. Hence the black eye, which was swollen up in a few minutes to an enormous size.
I expected to get a scolding from Mr. and Mrs. Myers, but they both gloried in my spunk for taking my own part. They had witnessed the whole thing.
Somehow or another that fight took the kink out of my back for from that time on it began to get well. I am bothered with it though, to this day, when I take cold or do a hard day's work.
ADOPTED AND SENT TO SCHOOL.
Mr. and Mrs. Myers had no children and after I had been with them about a month, they proposed to adopt me, or at least they made me promise to stay with them until I was twenty-one years of age.
They were to send me to school until I was seventeen and then start me in business. They also promised to give me everything they had at their death.
So they prepared me for school right away. As I was not very far advanced in book learning, having forgotten nearly all that Mr. Hale taught me, they thought I had better go to Fisk's public school until I got a start.
I had not been going to this school long when I had trouble with the lady teacher, Miss Finnely. It happened thus: A boy sitting behind me, struck me on the neck with a slate pencil, and when Iturned around and accused him of it he whispered, "you lie." I gave him a lick on the nose that made him bawl like a calf.
Of course the teacher heard it and called us up to take our medicine.
She made the other boy hold out his hand first and after giving him five raps told him to take his seat.
It was then my time, and I stuck out my hand like a little man. She gave me five licks and was raising the rule to strike again when I jerked my hand away, at the same time telling her that it wasn't fair to punish me the most when the other boy caused the fuss. She insisted on giving me a little more so finally I held out my hand and received five more licks and still she was not satisfied; but I was and went to my seat. She told me two or three times to come back but I would not do it, so she sent a boy upstairs after Mr. Dyer, the gentleman who taught the large boys.
I had seen Mr. Dyer try his hand on boys, at several different times, therefore didn't intend to let him get hold of me if I could help it. She saw me looking towards the door, so she came over and stood between me and it.
I heard Mr. Dyer coming down the stairs; that was enough; I flew for the door. I remember running against something soft and knocking it over and suppose it must have been Miss Finnely. When I got to the street I pulled straight for home.
About a week afterwards Mr. Myers sent me to pay school, where I was taught German, French and English. My teacher was an old gentleman who only took a few select scholars.
Everything went on fine until the following spring, in May or June, when I got into a fuss with one of the scholars and skipped the country.
The way it happened: One day when school let out for dinner we all, after emptying our dinner baskets, struck out for the "green" to play "foot and a half."
There was one boy in the crowd by the name of Stemcamp who was always trying to pick a fuss with me. He was twice as large as I was, therefore I tried to avoid him, but this time he called me a liar and I made for him.
During the scuffle which followed, I got out my little pearl handled knife, one "Miss Mary" had given me just a few days before and was determined to use it the first opportunity.
I was down on all fours and he astride of my back putting it to me in the face, underhanded. The only place I could get at with the knife was his legs, so I stuck it in up to the handle, on the inside of one leg, just below the groin and ripped down.
He jumped ten feet in the air and roared out "Holy Moses!"
As soon as I regained my feet he took to his heels, but I soon overtook him and got another dig at his back. I thought sure I had done him up for good this time but found out afterwards that I had done no harm, with the exception of ripping his clothes down the back.
The next day at that time I was on my way to Saint Louis. I had stowed myself away on board of the "Mollie Able" among the cotton bales.
The second night out we had a blow up. One of the cylinder-heads blew out of the engine. It nearly killed the engineer and fireman, also several other persons.
A little negro boy—who was stealing his passage—and I were sleeping on a pile of lumber close to the engine when she went off. We both got pretty badly scalded.
The steamer ran ashore and laid there until morning and then went the balance of the way on one wheel. It took us just eight days from that time to get to Saint Louis.
I remained in Saint Louis one day without food—not caring to visit the "Planters" or any of my acquaintances—and then walked to Lebanon, Ill., twenty-five miles. I thought may be I might find out through some of my Lebanon friends where mother and sister were.
It was nearly noon when I struck out on my journey and nine o'clock at night when I arrived at my destination. I went straight to Mrs. Bell's, where sister had worked, but failed to hear a word of mother and sister's whereabouts.
Mrs. Bell gave me a good bed that night and next morning I struck out to hunt a job.
After considerable tramping around I found work with one of my old employers, a Mr. Jacobs, who lived twelve miles from town.
I only worked a short while when I began to wish I was back under "Miss Mary's" wing. So one morning I quit and pulled for Saint Louis.
I had money enough to pay my fare to Saint Louis and I arrived there just as the "Robert E.Lee" and "Natchez" were fixing to pull out on their big race for New Orleans.
The "Robert E. Lee" being my favorite boat, I jumped aboard just as she was shoving off. Of course I had to keep hidden most of the time, especially when the captain or purser were around. I used to get my chuck from the cook who thought I was a bully boy.
The "Natchez" would have beaten, no doubt, but she got too smart by trying to make a cut-off through an old canal opposite Memphis and got stuck in the mud.
The first thing after landing in New Orleans, I hunted up one of my boy friends and found out by him how my victim was getting on. He informed me that he was up and hobbling about on crutches. He also stated that the poor fellow came very near losing his leg. I concluded if they did have me arrested that Mr. Myers was able to help me out, so I braced up and struck out for home.
Mr. and Mrs. Myers were terribly tickled over my return. They had an awful time though getting me scrubbed up again, as I was very black and dirty.
A few days after my return Mr. Myers went to see my same old teacher to find out whether hewould take me back or not. At first he said that no money could induce him to be bothered with me again, but finally Mr. Myers talked him into the notion of trying me once more.
So the next morning I shouldered my books and struck out for school to take up my same old studies, German, French and English.
BACK AT LAST TO THE LONE STAR STATE.
Everything went on lovely until the coming fall, about the latter part of November when I skipped the country for good. I will tell you how it happened.
One afternoon a fire broke out close to the school house and as everybody was rushing by, I became excited and wanted to go too, to see the fun. I asked the teacher if I could go, but he refused in a gruff voice. This did not keep me, I made a break for the door and was soon lost among the surging mass of people.
The next heard of me was on the "rolling deep." I had boarded a Morgan steamship and stowed myself away until the vessel was at sea, where I knew they wouldn't land to put me ashore.
"St. Mary" was the name of the ship. She lost one of her wheel houses and was considerably out of shape when we landed in Galveston, Texas. It had stormed terribly during the whole trip.
During the few hours that the ship remained in Galveston, I put in my time hunting an old uncle of mine by the name of "Nick" White, whom I had never seen. He had been living there seventeen years, therefore I experienced but little difficulty in finding his place; but after finding it I didn't have courage enough to go in and make myself known. One reason was, I thought he might think I was beholden to him, or in other words, trying to get his sympathy. I just stood at the gate a few minutes viewing the beautiful shrubbery, which filled the spacious yard and went back to the boat which by that time, was just fixing to pull out.
We arrived in Indianola one morning about sun-up. I recognized several of my old acquaintances standing on the wharf before the ship landed; among them was my old God-father Mr. Hagerty, who stood for me when I was being christened by the Catholic priest.
They were all surprised to see me back. Mr. Hagerty took me home with him and told me to content myself until I could find work.
In about a week I went to work for Mr. H. Selickson, who ran a packing house five miles below town. He gave me fifteen dollars a month all winter.
The first month's wages went for a fancy pistol, the next, or at least part of it, for a pair of star topped boots and all the balance on "monte," a mexican game. There were lots of mexicans working there and after working hours some of them would "deal" monte while the rest of us "bucked."
About the first of February I quit the packing house and went to Matagorda where I was welcomed by all my old acquaintances. From there I took a trip over to the "Settlement," on the Peninsula, to see the old homestead. Everything looked natural; the cedar and fig trees were covered with little red winged black birds, seemingly the same ones that were there when I left, nearly three years before.
After a week's stay in the Settlement, I went back to Matagorda and went to work for Mr. Joseph Yeamans, a Baptist preacher. My work was farming and my wages part of the crop.
Mr. Yeamans' farm was a thirty acre sand patch on the Peninsula, about forty miles above the Settlement. Our aim was to raise a big crop of water melons and sweet potatoes, but when I left everything pointed to a big crop of grass burrs and a very slim lay out of sweet potatoes and water melons.
The old gentleman and I lived all alone in a little delapidated shanty with a dirt floor. Our chuck consisted of black coffee, hard-tack and coon or 'possum meat. We had three good coon dogs, therefore had plenty of fresh meat such as it was.
There being plenty "Mavricks" close at hand, and being tired of coon meat, I used to try and get the old man to let me butcher one now and then for a change, but he thought it wicked to kill cattle not our own.
As some of you may not know what a "Mavrick" is, I will try and explain.
In early days, a man by the name of Mavrick settled on the Lavaca river and started a cow ranch. He being a chicken-hearted old rooster, wouldn't brand nor ear-mark any of his cattle. All his neighbors branded theirs, therefore Mr. Mavrick claimed everything that wore long ears.
When the war broke out Mr. Mavrick had to bid adieu to wife and babies and go far away to fight for his country's good.
When the cruel war was ended, he went home and found his cattle roaming over a thousand hills. Everywhere he went he could see thousands upon thousands of his long-eared cattle.
But when his neighbors and all the men in the surrounding country came home and went to branding their five years increase, Mr. Mavrick did not feel so rich. He made a terrible fuss about it, but it did no good, as in a very few years his cattle wore some enterprising man's brand and he was left out in the cold.
Hence the term "Mavrick." At first people used to say: "Yonder goes one of Mr. Mavrick's animals!" Now they say: "Yonder goes a Mavrick!"
About the time we got our crops, sweet potatoes, melons, etc., in the ground, I swore off farming and skipped out for town, leaving Mr. Yeamans my share of the "crop" freegratis.
After arriving in Matagorda I hired out to a Mr. Tom Nie, who was over there, from Rancho Grande, hiring some Cow Boys.
"Rancho Grande" was owned by "Shanghai" Pierce and Allen and at that time was considered one of the largest ranches in the whole state of Texas. To give you an idea of its size, will state, that the next year after I went to work we branded twenty-five thousand calves—that is, just in one season.
Altogether there were five of us started to Rancho Grande to work—all boys about my own age; wewent in a sail boat to Palacious Point, where the firm had an outside ranch and where they were feeding a large lot of cow ponies for spring work.
It was about the middle of April, 1871, that we all, about twenty of us, pulled out for the headquarter ranch at the head of Tresspalacious creek. It took us several days to make the trip as we had to brand calves and Mavricks on the way up.
A few days after arriving at the ranch Mr. or "Old Shang" Pierce as he was commonly called, arrived from Old Mexico with about three hundred head of wild spanish ponies, therefore we kids had a high old time learning the art of riding a "pitching" horse.
We put in several days at the ranch making preparations to start out on a two months trip. Being a store there we rigged up in good shape; I spent two or three months' wages for an outfit, spurs, etc., trying to make myself look like a thoroughbred Cow Boy from Bitter creek.
There were three crowds of us started at the same time; one to work up the Colorado river, the other around home and the third which was ours, to work west in Jackson and Lavaca counties.
Our crowd consisted of fifteen men, one hundred head of ponies—mostly wild ones—and a chuck wagon loaded down with coffee, flour, molasses and salt. Tom Nie was our boss.
LEARNING TO ROPE WILD STEERS.
Arriving on the Navadad river, we went to work gathering a herd of "trail" beeves and also branding Mavricks at the same time. Some days we would brand as high as three or four hundred Mavricks—none under two years old.
After about a month's hard work we had the herd of eleven hundred ready to turn over to Mr. Black who had bought them, delivered to him at the Snodgrass ranch. They were all old mossy horn fellows, from seven to twenty-seven years old.
Mr. Black was a Kansas "short horn" and he had brought his outfit of "short horn" men and horses, to drive the herd "up the trail."
Some of the men had never seen a Texas steer, consequently they crossed Red river into the Indian territory with nothing left but the "grub" wagon and horses. They had lost every steer and Mr. Black landed in Kansas flat broke.
Lots of the steers came back to their old ranges and Mr. "Shanghai" had the fun of selling them over again, to some other greeny, may be.
"Shanghai" Pierce went to Kansas the next year and when he returned he told of having met Mr. Black up there, working at his old trade—blacksmithing. He said Mr. Black cursed Texas shamefully and swore that he never would, even if he should live to be as old as Isaac, son of Jacob, dabble in long horns again.
After getting rid of Mr. Black's herd we turned our whole attention to branding Mavricks.
About the first of August we went back to the ranch and found that it had changed hands in our absence. "Shanghai" Pierce and his brother Jonathan had sold out their interests to Allen, Pool & Co. for the snug little sum of one hundred and ten thousand dollars.
That shows what could be done in those days, with no capital, but lots of cheek and a branding iron. The two Pierce's had come out there from Yankeedom a few years before poorer than skimmed milk.
Everything had taken a change—even to the ranch. It had been moved down the river fourmiles to Mr. John Moore's place. Mr. Moore had been appointed "big chief," hence the ranch being moved to his place.
About the middle of August we pulled out again with a fresh supply of horses, six to the man and a bran new boss, Mr. Wiley Kuykendall.
Some of the boys hated to part with Mr. Nie, but I was glad of the change, for he wouldn't allow me to rope large steers nor fight when I got on the war-path. I remember one time he gave me fits for laying a negro out with a four-year old club; and another time he laid me out with his open hand for trying to carve one of the boys up with a butcher knife.
We commenced work about the first of September on "Big Sandy" in Lavaca county, a place noted for wild "brush" cattle. Very few people lived in that section, hence so many wild unbranded cattle.
To illustrate the class of people who lived on Big Sandy, will relate a little picnic a negro and I had a few days after our arrival there.
While herding a bunch of cattle, gathered the day before, on a small prairie, we noticed a footman emerge from the thick timber on the opposite side from where we were and make straightfor a spotted pony that was "hobbled" and grazing out in the open space.
He was indeed a rough looking customer, being half naked. He had nothing on his head but a thick mat of almost gray hair; and his feet and legs were bare.
We concluded to "rope" him and take him to camp, so taking down our ropes and putting spurs to our tired horses we struck out.
He saw us coming and only being about a hundred yards from the spotted pony, he ran to him and cutting the "hobbles," which held his two front legs together, jumped aboard of him and was off in the direction he had just come, like a flash. The pony must have been well trained for he had nothing to guide him with.
A four hundred yard race for dear life brought him to the "brush"—that is timber, thickly covered with an underbrush of live-oak "runners." He shot out of sight like an arrow. He was not a minute too soon, for we were right at his heels.
We gave up the chase after losing sight of him, for we couldn't handle our ropes in the "brush."
The next day the camp was located close to the spot where he disappeared at, and several of usfollowed up his trail. We found him and his three grown daughters, his wife having died a short while before, occupying a little one room log shanty in a lonely spot about two miles from the little prairie in which we first saw him. The whole outfit were tough looking citizens. The girls had never seen a town, so they said. They had about two acres in cultivation and from that they made their living. Their nearest neighbor was a Mr. Penny, who lived ten miles west and the nearest town was Columbus, on the Colorado river, fifty miles east.
As the cattle remained hidden out in the "brush" during the day-time, only venturing out on the small prairies at night, we had to do most of our work early in the morning, commencing an hour or two before daylight. As you might wish to know exactly how we did, will try and explain:—About two hours before daylight the cook would holloa "chuck," and then Mr. Wiley would go around and yell "breakfast, boys; d——n you get up!" two or three times in our ears.
Breakfast being over we would saddle up our ponies, which had been staked out the night before, and strike out for a certain prairie may be three or four miles off—that is all but two or three men, justenough to bring the herd, previously gathered, on as soon as it became light enough to see.
Arriving at the edge of the prairie we would dismount and wait for daylight.
At the first peep of day the cattle, which would be out in the prairie, quite a distance from the timber, would all turn their heads and commence grazing at a lively rate towards the nearest point of timber. Then we would ride around through the brush, so as not to be seen, until we got to the point of timber that they were steering for.
When it became light enough to see good, we would ride out, rope in hand, to meet them and apt as not one of the old-timers, may be a fifteen or twenty-year old steer, which were continuously on the lookout, would spy us before we got twenty yards from the timber. Then the fun would begin—the whole bunch, may be a thousand head, would stampede and come right towards us. They never were known to run in the opposite direction from the nearest point of timber. But with cattle raised on the prairies, it's the reverse, they will always leave the timber.
After coming in contact, every man would rope and tie down one of the finest animals in the bunch.Once in awhile some fellow would get more beef than he could manage; under those circumstances he would have to worry along until some other fellow got through with his job and came to his rescue.
If there was another prairie close by we would go to it and tie down a few more, but we would have to get there before sunup or they would all be in the brush. It was their habit to graze out into the little prairies at night-fall and go back to the brush by sunrise next morning.
Finally the herd which we had gathered before and which was already "broke in," would arrive from camp, where we had been night-herding them and then we would drive it around to each one of the tied-down animals, letting him up so he couldn't help from running right into the herd, where he would generally stay contented. Once in awhile though, we would strike an old steer that couldn't be made to stay in the herd. Just as soon as he was untied and let up he would go right through the herd and strike for the brush, fighting his way. Under those circumstances we would have to sew up their eyes with a needle and thread. That would bring them to their milk, as they couldn't see the timber.
I got into several scrapes on this trip, by being a new hand at the business. One time I was going at full speed and threw my rope onto a steer just as he got to the edge of the timber; I couldn't stop my horse in time, therefore the steer went on one side of a tree and my horse on the other and the consequence was, my rope being tied hard and fast to the saddle-horn, we all landed up against the tree in a heap.
At another time, on the same day, I roped a large animal and got my horse jerked over backwards on top of me and in the horse getting up he got me all wound up in the rope, so that I couldn't free myself until relieved by "Jack" a negro man who was near at hand. I was certainly in a ticklish predicament that time; the pony was wild and there I hung fast to his side with my head down while the steer, which was still fastened to the rope, was making every effort to gore us.
Just before Christmas Moore selected our outfit to do the shipping at Palacious Point, where a Morgan steamship landed twice a week to take on cattle for the New Orleans market.
We used to ship about five hundred head at each shipping. After getting rid of one bunch we wouldstrike right back, to meet one of the gathering outfits, after another herd. There were three different outfits to do the gathering for us.
We kept that up all winter and had a tough time of it, too, as it happened to be an unusually cold and wet winter.
Towards spring the cattle began to get terribly poor, so that during the cold nights while night-herding them a great many would get down in the mud and freeze to death. Have seen as high as fifty head of dead ones scattered over the ground where the herd had drifted during the night. It's a pity if such nights as those didn't try our nerves.
Sometimes it would be twelve o'clock at night before we would get the cattle loaded aboard of the ship. But when we did get through we would surely have a picnic—filling up on Mr. Geo. Burkheart's red eye. Mr. Burkheart kept a store at the "Point" well filled with Cow Boys delight—in fact he made a specialty of the stuff.
Our camping ground was three miles from the Point, and some mornings the cook would get up and find several saddled horses standing around camp waiting for their corn—their riders having fallen by the wayside.
OWNING MY FIRST CATTLE.
When spring opened, our outfit, under the leadership of Mr. Robert Partin, Mr. Wiley having quit, struck out up the Colorado river in Whorton and Colorado counties to brand Mavricks.
About the last of July we went to the "home" ranch, where Mr. Wiley was put in charge of us again. We were sent right out on another trip, west, to Jackson county.
It was on this trip that I owned my first cattle. Mr. Wiley concluded it would look more business like if he would brand a few Mavricks for himself instead of branding them all for Allen, Pool & Co., so he began putting his own brand on all the finest looking ones. To keep us boys from giving him away, he gave us a nest egg apiece—that is a few head to draw to. My nest eggs were a couple of two-year olds, and my brand was A. T. connected—the T. on top of the A. Of course after that I always carried a piece of iron tied to my saddle soin case I got off on the prairie by myself I could brand a few Mavricks for myself, without Mr. Wiley being any the wiser of it. The way I would go about it would be to rope and tie down one of the long-eared fellows and after heating the straight piece of round, iron bolt, in the brush or "cow-chip" fire, "run" my brand on his hip or ribs. He was then my property.
Everything ran along as smooth as if on greased wheels for about two months, when somehow or another, Mr. Moore, our big chief, heard of our little private racket and sent for us to come home.
Mr. Wiley got the "G. B." at once and a Mr. Logan was put in his place. Now this man Logan was a very good man but he was out of his latitude, he should have been a second mate on a Mississippi steamboat.
I worked with Logan one trip, until we got back to the ranch and then I settled up for the first time since going to work, nearly two years before.
An old irishman by the name of "Hunky-dorey" Brown kept the store and did the settling up with the men. When he settled with me he laid all the money, in silver dollars, that I had earned since commencing work, which amounted to a few hundreddollars, out on the counter and then after eyeing me awhile, said: "Allen, Pool & Co. owe you three hundred dollars," or whatever the amount was, "and you owe Allen, Pool & Co. two hundred ninety-nine dollars and a quarter, which leaves you seventy-five cents." He then raked all but six bits into the money drawer.
To say that I felt mortified wouldn't near express my feelings. I thought the whole pile was mine and therefore had been figuring on the many purchases that I intended making. My intentions were to buy a herd of ponies and go to speculating. I had a dozen or two ponies, that I knew were for sale, already picked out in my mind. But my fond expectations were soon trampled under foot. You see I had never kept an account, consequently never knew how I stood with the company.
After pocketing my six bits, I mounted "Fannie" a little mare that I had bought not long before and struck out for W. B. Grimes' ranch, a few miles up the river. I succeeded in getting a job from the old gentleman at fifteen dollars per month.
Mr. Grimes had a slaughter house on his ranch where he killed cattle for their hides and tallow—the meat he threw to the hogs. About two hundredhead per day was an average killing. Did you ask kind reader, if those were all his own cattle that he butchered? If so, will have to say that I never tell tales out of school.
After working around the ranch a short while Mr. Grimes gave me the job of taking care of his "stock horses," that is mares, colts and horses that wern't in use. There were about two hundred head of those and they were scattered in two hundred and fifty different places—over fifty square miles of territory and of course before I could take care of them I had to go to work and gather them up into one bunch.
A little circumstance happened shortly after going to work at the "W. B. G." ranch which I am going to relate.
An old gentleman by the name of Kinchlow, who owned a large horse ranch up on the Colorado river in Whorton county, came down and told Mr. Grimes that his outfit was fixing to start on a horse "hunt" and for him to send a man along, as there were quite a number of "W. B. G." horses in that country.
As I had the job taking care of the horses, it fell to my lot to accompany the old gentleman, Mr. Kinchlow, to his ranch fifty miles distant.
It was bright and early one morning when we pulled out, aiming to ride the fifty miles by ten o'clock that night. Mr. Kinchlow was mounted on "old Beauregard," a large chestnut sorrel, while I rode a fiery little bay.
Our journey was over a bald, wet prairie; night overtook us at the head of Blue creek, still twenty miles from our destination.
A few minutes after crossing Blue creek, just about dusk, we ran across a large panther, which jumped up out of the tall grass in front of us. It was a savage looking beast and appeared to be on the war-path. After jumping to one side it just sat still, growling and showing its ugly teeth. I started to shoot it but Mr. Kinchlow begged me not to as it would frighten his horse, who was then almost beyond control, from seeing the panther.
We rode on and a few minutes afterwards discovered the panther sneaking along after us through the tall grass. I begged Mr. Kinchlow to let me kill it, but he wouldn't agree, as, he said, a pistol shot would cause old Beauregard to jump out of his hide.
It finally became very dark; our guide was a certain bright little star. We had forgotten allabout the panther as it had been over half an hour since we had seen it. The old man was relating an indian tale, which made my hair almost stand on end, as I imagined that I was right in the midst of a wild band of reds, when all at once old Beauregard gave a tremendous loud snort and dashed straight ahead at a break-neck speed. Mr. Kinchlow yelled "whoa," every jump; finally his voice died out and I could hear nothing but the sound of his horse's hoofs, and finally the sound of them too, died out.
Of course I socked spurs to my pony and tried to keep up, for I imagined there were a thousand and one indians and panthers right at my heels.
After running about a quarter of a mile I heard something like a faint, human groan, off to my right about fifty yards. I stopped and listened, but could not hear anything more, except now and then the lonely howl of a coyote off in the distance. I finally began to feel lonesome, so I put spurs to my pony again. But I hadn't gone only a few jumps when I checked up and argued with myself thusly:—Now suppose that groan came from the lips of Mr. Kinchlow, who may-be fell from his horse and is badly hurt; then wouldn't it be a shame to run offand leave him there to die when may be a little aid from me would save him?
I finally spunked up and drawing my pistol started in the direction from whence came the groan. My idea in drawing the pistol was, for fear the panther, who I felt satisfied had been the cause of the whole trouble, might tackle me. Suffice it to say that I found the old gentleman stretched out on the ground apparently lifeless and that a half hour's nursing brought him to. He finally after several trials, got so he could stand up, with my aid. I then helped him into my saddle, while I rode behind and held him on and we continued our journey both on one horse. He informed me after he came to his right senses, that old Beauregard had fallen and rolled over him.
We landed at our destination about ten o'clock next morning; but the good old man only lived about two weeks afterwards. He died from the effects of the fall, so I heard.
About Christmas I quit Mr. Grimes and went to work on my own hook, skinning "dead" cattle and adding to the nest egg Mr. Wiley gave me. I put my own brand on quite a number of Mavricks while taking care of Mr. Grimes' horses, which began tomake me feel like a young cattle king. The only trouble was they were scattered over too much wild territory and mixed up with so many other cattle. When a fellow branded a Mavrick in those days it was a question whether he would ever see or realize a nickel for it. For just think, one, or even a hundred head mixed up with over a million of cattle, and those million head scattered over a territory one hundred miles square and continually drifting around from one place to another.
After leaving Daddy Grimes I made my home at Mr. Horace Yeamans', an old mexican war veteran, who lived five miles from Grimes'. His family consisted of two daughters and two sons, all grown but the youngest daughter, Sally, who was only fourteen, and who I was casting sheeps eyes at. The old gentleman had brought his children up very pious, which was a glorious thing for me as, during the two years that I made my home there, I got broke of swearing—a dirty, mean habit which had fastened itself upon me, and which I thought was impossible to get rid of. I had become so that it was almost an impossibility for me to utter a sentence without using an oath to introduce it and another to end it. To show how the habit wasfastened upon me: Mr. Parten, one of my former bosses, made me an offer of three dollars more wages, on the month, if I would quit cursing but I wouldn't do it.
Horace Yeamans, who was about my own age and I went into partnership in the skinning business. Cattle died by the thousands that winter, on account of the country being overstocked, therefore Horace and I had a regular picnic skinning, and branding Mavricks—only those that looked as if they might pull through the winter.
To give you an idea how badly cattle died that winter will state that, at times, right after a sleet, a man could walk on dead animals for miles without stepping on the ground. This, of course, would be along the Bay shore, where they would pile up on top of one another, not being able to go further, on account of the water.
About five miles east of Mr. Yeamans' was a slough or creek called "Turtle bayou" which lay east and west a distance of several miles, and which I have seen bridged over with dead cattle, from one end to the other. You see the solid mass of half starved animals, in drifting ahead of a severe "Norther," would undertake to cross the bayou,which was very boggy and consequently the weakest ones would form a bridge for the others to cross on.
My share of the first hides we shipped to Indianola amounted to one hundred and fourteen dollars. You bet I felt rich. I never had so much money in all my life. I went at once and bought me a twenty-seven dollar saddle and sent mother twenty-five dollars. I had found out mother's address, in Saint Louis, by one of my old Peninsula friends getting a letter from sister.
Our next sale amounted to more than the first. That time Horace and I went to Indianola with the hides for we wanted to blow in some of our surplus wealth; we were getting too rich.
When spring opened I bought five head of horses and thought I would try my hand at trading horses. The first trade I made, I cleared twenty-five dollars. I gave an old mare which cost me twenty dollars, for a pony which I sold a few days afterwards for forty-five.
Along in May I fell head over heels in love, for the first time in my life. A pretty little fourteen year old Miss, cousin to Horace and the girls, came over on a month's visit and when she left I was completely rattled—couldn't think of anything but her;her beautiful image was continually before my eyes.
Her father, who was Sheriff of Matagorda county lived on the road to Matagorda, fifteen miles from Mr. Yeamans', therefore, during the coming summer I went to town pretty often; to get a new brand recorded was generally my excuse. You see, as she lived about half way between the Yeamans' ranch and town, I could be near her two nights each trip, one going and one returning.
I had very poor success that summer in my new enterprise, horse trading. I was too badly "locoed" to tell a good horse from a bad one; in fact I wasn't fit for anything, unless it would have been a Mail carrier between "Denning's Bridge" and Matagorda.
A START UP THE CHISHOLM TRAIL.
I put in the following winter branding Mavricks, skinning cattle and making regular trips to Matagorda; I still remained in partnership with Horace Yeamans in the skinning business. I made considerable money that winter as I sold a greater number of Mavricks than ever before. But the money did me no good as I spent it freely.
That coming spring, it being 1874, I hired to Leander Ward of Jackson county to help gather a herd of steers for the Muckleroy Bros., who were going to drive them to Kansas. I had also made a contract with Muckleroy's boss, Tom Merril, to go up the trail with him, therefore I bid my friends good-bye, not expecting to see them again until the coming fall. My wages were thirty-five dollars per month and all expenses, including railroad fare back home.
After a month's hard work we had the eleven hundred head of wild and woolly steers ready to turn overto the Muckleroy outfit at Thirteen mile point on the Mustang, where they were camped, ready to receive them. Their outfit consisted mostly of Kansas "short horns" which they had brought back with them the year before.
It was a cold, rainy evening when the cattle were counted and turned over to Tom Merril. Henry Coats, Geo. Gifford and myself were the only boys who were turned over with the herd—that is kept right on. We were almost worn out standing night guard half of every night for the past month and then starting in with a fresh outfit made it appear tough to us.
That night it began to storm terribly. The herd began to drift early and by midnight we were five or six miles from camp. The steers showed a disposition to stampede but we handled them easy and sang melodious songs which kept them quieted. But about one o'clock they stampeded in grand shape. One of the "short horns," a long legged fellow by the name of Saint Clair got lost from the herd and finally when he heard the singing came dashing through the herd at full speed yelling "let 'em slide, we'll stay with'em!" at every jump.
They did slide sure enough, but he failed to "stay with 'em." For towards morning one of the boys came across him lying in the grass sound asleep. When he came dashing through the herd a stampede followed; the herd split up into a dozen different bunches—each bunch going in a different direction. I found myself all alone with about three hundred of the frightened steers. Of course all I could do was to keep in front or in the lead and try to check them up. I finally about three o'clock got them stopped and after singing a few "lullaby" songs they all lay down and went to snoring.
After the last steer dropped down I concluded I would take a little nap too, so locking both legs around the saddle-horn and lying over on the tired pony's rump, with my left arm for a pillow, while the other still held the bridle-reins, I fell asleep. I hadn't slept long though when, from some unaccountable reason, every steer jumped to his feet at the same instant and was off like a flash. My pony which was sound asleep too, I suppose, became frightened and dashed off at full speed in the opposite direction. Of course I was also frightened and hung to the saddle with a death grip. I was unable to raise myself up as the pony was going sofast, therefore had to remain as I was, until after about a mile's run I got him checked up.
Just as soon as I got over my scare I struck out in a gallop in the direction I thought the cattle had gone, but failed to overtake them. I landed in camp almost peetered out about nine o'clock next morning. The rest of the boys were all there, just eating their breakfast. Tom Merril and Henry Coats had managed to hold about half of the herd, while the balance were scattered and mixed up with "range" cattle for twenty miles around.
After eating our breakfast and mounting fresh horses we struck out to gather up the lost steers. We could tell them from the range cattle by the fresh "road" brand—a brand that had been put on a few days before—therefore, by four o'clock that evening we had all but about one hundred head back to camp and those Leander Ward bought back at half price—that is he just bought the road brand or all cattle that happened to be left behind.
On arriving at camp, we all caught fresh horses before stopping to eat dinner or supper, whichever you like to call it, it being then nearly night. The pony I caught was a wild one and after riding up to camp and dismounting to eat dinner, he jerkedloose from me and went a flying with my star-spangled saddle.
I mounted a pony belonging to one of the other boys and went in hot pursuit. I got near enough once to throw my rope over his rump and that was all. After a run of fifteen miles I gave it up as a bad job and left him still headed for the Rio Grande.
I got back to camp just at dark and caught a fresh horse before stopping to eat my supper. It was still raining and had kept it up all day long. Mr. "Jim" Muckleroy had an extra saddle along therefore I borrowed it until I could get a chance to buy me another one.
After eating a cold supper, the rain having put the fire out, I mounted and went on "guard," the first part of the night, until one o'clock, being my regular time to stay with the herd, while the last "guard" remained in camp and slept.
About ten o'clock it began to thunder and lightning, which caused the herd to become unruly. Every time a keen clash of thunder would come the herd would stampede and run for a mile or two before we could get them to stop. It continued in that way all night so that we lost another night's rest;but we managed to "stay with 'em" this time; didn't even loose a steer.
That morning we struck out on the trail for Kansas. Everything went on smoothly with the exception of a stampede now and then and a fuss with Jim Muckleroy, who was a regular old sore-head. Charlie, his brother was a white man. Where the trouble began, he wanted Coats and I, we being the only ones in the crowd who could ride wild horses—or at least who were willing to do so, to do the wild horse riding for nothing. We finally bolted and told him that we wouldn't ride another wild horse except our regular "mount," unless he gave us extra pay. You see he expected us to ride a horse a few times until he began to get docile and then turn him over to one of his muley pets while we caught up a fresh one.
At High Hill in Fayette county I got the bounce from old Jim and a little further on Coats got the same kind of a dose; while nearing the northern state-line Geo. Gifford and Tom Merril, the boss, were fired; so that left old Jim in full charge. He hired other men in our places. He arrived in Wichita, Kansas with eight hundred steers, out of the eleven hundred we started with.
After leaving the outfit I rode to the Sunset railroad at Shusenburg and boarded a train for Columbus on the Colorado river. "Pat" Muckleroy, Charlie's son, who was about eighteen years old, quit and went with me. His home was in Columbus and he persuaded me to accompany him and have a good time.
On arriving in Columbus I went with Pat to his home where I remained during my stay in that place. I found Mrs. M., Pat's mother, to be a kind-hearted old lady, and I never shall forget the big, fat apple cobblers she used to make; she could beat the world making them. There were also two young Misses in the family, Nannie and Mary, who made time pass off pleasantly with me.
It being seventy-five miles to Tresspalacious and there being no railroad nearer than that, I had to wait for a chance to get home. I could have bought a horse and saddle when I first struck town but after remaining there a week I began to get light in the pocket, for it required quite a lot of money to keep up my end with the crowd that Pat associated with.
At last after about a three weeks stay, I struck Asa Dawdy, an old friend from Tresspalacious. He was there with a load of stock and was just fixingto load them on the cars to ship them to Galveston when I ran afoul of him. He had sold his saddle and was going to put his pet pony, one that he wouldn't sell, into a pasture until some other time when he happened up there. So you see I was in luck, he turned the pony over to me to ride home on.
After buying and rigging up a saddle I left town flat broke. I spent my last dime for a glass of lemonade just before leaving. Thus ended my first experience on the "trail."
BUYS A BOAT AND BECOMES A SAILOR.
A three days' ride brought me to Grimes' ranch where I hoped to strike a job, but the old gent' informed me that he was full handed—had more men than he really needed. But he offered me a job cutting cord wood at a dollar a cord until there should be an opening for me, which he thought would be when the branding outfit arrived from Jackson county where it had gone quite a while before.
"Cutting cord wood" sounded tough to me, but I finally agreed to try it a round or two, for I hated the idea of being "busted." Mr. Grimes was to advance me about two weeks provisions on "tick," so I concluded I couldn't lose anything—unless it was a few pounds of muscle and I had grave doubts about that, for I knew my failing when it came to dabbling in wood.
Before launching out into the wood business I borrowed a horse and struck out to hunt up oldSatan so that I could ride around and find easy trees to cut down; I found him about thirty miles from Grimes' ranch; he was fat and wild; I had to get help to put him in a corral and when I mounted him he pitched like a wolf. He had forgotten that he had ever been ridden.
The "wood camp" was three miles from the ranch in a thinly timbered bottom. I had to camp all by myself, which made it a disagreeable job.
The first day, after locating camp, was spent in building a kind of Jim Crow shanty out of rotten logs—was saving my muscle to cut cord wood.
Next morning bright and early I mounted Satan and rode around hunting some easy trees—ones that I thought would cut nicely. I marked about a dozen and went back to camp, it being noon by that time.
After dinner I lay down to take a nap until evening when it would be cooler. About five o'clock I rolled up my sleeves and waded into a small, sickly pin-oak tree and the way chips flew for half an hour was a caution. I then put in the balance of the evening cording it up—that is what I had cut. It lacked considerable of being half a cord, but I filled in a lot of rotten chunks to make it pan outfifty cents worth. I slept sound that night for I was tired.
Bright and early next morning I shouldered my axe and struck out to tackle another sickly pin-oak tree. While spitting on my hands and figuring on how many licks it would take to down the little sapling, I spied a large coon in a neighboring live-oak. Now catching coons, you all know by this time was a favorite passtime with me, so dropping the axe I went for him. By the time I got part of him cooked it was noon; and after dinner I fell asleep and dreamt happy dreams until after sundown. After supper I went turkey hunting and killed a fat gobbler. Thus ended my third day in a wood camp.
I became tired of the cord wood business after two weeks time. It was too lonesome a work for a boy of my restless disposition. I mounted Satan one morning after devouring the last speck of grub in camp and struck out for the ranch. On my arrival there Mr. Grimes asked me how much wood I had? I told him I thought there was enough to balance my grub bill. He said all right, he would send a man up there with me next morning to measure it. I finally informed him that it wasn't in shape for measuring, with the exception of half a cord that Icut the first day, as it was scattered over a vast territory, two or three sticks in a place.
I suppose he balanced my grub bill as he has never presented it yet.
Just then I came across a factory hand, John Collier by name, who had a boat for sale. He had bought it for a pleasure boat but found he couldn't support such a useless piece of furniture. He offered it to me for forty dollars and he had paid one hundred for it. I tried to sell Satan so as to buy it, but no one would have him as a gift, as they said they would have to get their lives insured before mounting him.
I wanted the boat, but how to get her I did not know. I finally studied up a scheme: Mr. Collier wanted to buy a horse in case he sold the boat, so I began talking horse trade. Nothing but a gentle animal would suit he said. I then described one to him and asked how much he would take to-boot if the pony proved to be as I represented? "Ten dollars" said he; "she pops" continued I. So I started over to Cashe's creek to trade Horace Yeamans out of an old crippled pony that he couldn't get rid of. He was a nice looking horse and apparently as sound as a dollar; but on trotting him around ashort while he would become suddenly lame in both of his front legs.
Before starting to Cashe's creek next morning Mr. Collier told me to try and get the horse there that night as, in case we made the trade, he and Mr. Murphy would start next morning on a pleasure trip to Columbia, a town forty miles east. I assured him that I would be back by dark. You see, that was a point gained, making the trade after dark.
I succeeded in making the trade with Horace; he gave me "old gray" as he called him and fourteen dollars in money for my interest in three different brands of cattle. He afterwards sold the cattle for enough to buy a whole herd of crippled ponies.
I rode back to Grimes' ranch very slowly so as not to cause old gray to become lame.
I arrived there about sundown, but remained out in the brush until after dark.
Mr. Collier, on being notified of my arrival, came out, lantern in hand, bringing his friend Murphy along to do the judging for him. He confessed that he was a very poor judge of a spanish pony, not having been long in America. He was from "Hengland."
After examining old gray all over they both pronounced him a model of beauty—an honor to the mustang race. You see, he was hog fat, not having been used for so long.
The trade was sealed that night and next morning Mr. Collier and Murphy, who already had a pony of his own, started on their forty mile journey. When within five miles of Elliott's ferry on the Colorado river, which was fifteen miles from Grimes' old gray gave out entirely, so that poor Collier had to hoof it to the ferry where he secured another horse.
Now kind reader you no doubt think that a shabby trick. If so, all I can say is "such is life in the far west."
Now that I was owner of a ship I concluded it policy to have a partner for company if nothing more, so I persuaded a young factory hand by the name of Sheiseinhamer or some such name to go in with me in my new enterprise. He only had ten dollars to invest, therefore I held the controlling interest.
Our ship was schooner-rigged and would carry about three tons. Her name was "Great Eastern" but we changed it to "The Blood Hound."
I turned Satan loose to rustle for himself (I afterwards sold him to astrangerfor thirty dollars) and then pulled down the river for Matagorda Bay, a distance of fifteen miles.
I concluded to go to the Peninsula and buy a load of melons that trip, as there were none on Tresspalacious.
We struck the Bay just at dark; the water was terribly rough and the wind was so strong that it made the Blood Hound dip water and slide along as though it was fun. My young pard, who had never been on salt water before, having been raised in Saint Louis, turned pale behind the gills and wanted to turn back when the low streak of land behind us began to grow dim. But as I owned the controlling interest in the ship, I told him he would have to grin and bear it. He swore that would be his last trip and it was. He sold me his interest on the way back for eight dollars; he lost just two dollars besides his time in the speculation.
Finally we hove in sight of the light house at Salura Pass. Then we were all right for I could tell just where to head for, although I hadn't been on the Bay much since leaving there in '67. But I had learned it thoroughly before then.
It was fifteen miles across the Bay to Fred Vogg's landing, where I had concluded to land. We arrived there about midnight and next morning walked up to Mr. Vogg's house, about half a mile for breakfast. The whole family were glad to see me—for the first time in eight years.
I bought a load of melons delivered at the landing for five cents a head—or piece I should have said.
The next evening we started back home, and arrived at Grimes' just as the whistle was tooting for dinner, next day. The whole crowd of factory hands, there being about seventy-five, made a break for the boat to fill up on melons. The largest I sold at fifty cents and the smallest at twenty-five. By night I had sold entirely out and started back after another load, all by myself this time, with the exception of a dog, a stray that I had picked up.
I bought my melons at a different place this time, from a Mr. Joe Berge who lived a few miles above Mr. Vogg. I got them for two and a half cents a piece, therefore made a better "speck" than before. I struck a terrible storm on my return trip and came very near swamping.
I made my next trip to Indianola as I had four passengers to take down, at two dollars and a half a head.
Shortly after landing in Indianola I got two passengers, one of them a pretty young lady, Miss Ruthie Ward, to take to Sand Point in Lavaca county, just across the Bay from Indianola.
I remained in Indianola two days "bucking" monte. I left there broke after paying for a load of melons.