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Texas History Stories, 
 
 HOUSTON. 
 AUSTIN, 
 
 CROCKETT, 
 LA SALLE. 
 
 {^For Sicpplementary Reading in Primary Grades.^ 
 
 E. G. LITTLEJOHN, 
 
 GAL.VESTON, TEXAS. 
 
4329 
 
 CROWN AND BRIDGE WORK 
 A SPECIALTr. 
 
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 Br. lb. M. Xubben, 
 
 DENTIST , 
 
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 2U7 /lftar?ict Street, ©alvestoiu 
 
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 MK ASSISTANTS ARE ENTIRELY 
 COMPETENT. 
 
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 L7(^ 
 
SAM HOUSTOiN. 
 
 Sam Houston was born in Vir-gin-ia. 
 
 His parents were poor people. 
 
 He had five brothers and three sisters. 
 
 When Sam was eight years old he started 
 to school. 
 
 There were few good schools in Vir-gin-ia in 
 those days. 
 
 There were no free schools, such as we have 
 to-day. 
 
 Sam could go to school only late in the winter. 
 
 The rest of the year he was kept at hard 
 work. 
 
 Sometimes, if he worked well, he was allowed 
 
4 SAM HOUSTON. 
 
 to run home from the fields, to be in time to take 
 his place in spelling. 
 
 He learned to read and write and cipher. 
 
 When he was thirteen years old, he had gone 
 to school but six months in all. 
 
 It was then that his father died. After the 
 death of his father, his mother sold the old 
 home in Vir-gin-ia and took her family across 
 the mountains into Ten-nes-see. 
 
 At that time Ten-nes-see was only a great wil- 
 derness. Indians were everywhere. There were 
 dense forests full of wolves, bears and other 
 wild animals. 
 
 The little party halted eight miles from the 
 Ten-nes-see River, which was the bound-a-ry be- 
 tween the white men and the Cher-o-kee Indians. 
 Here a new log cabin was built and a farm 
 cleared. 
 
 Sam was set to work on the farm with his 
 brothers. Bu the liked hunting and fishing better 
 
SAM HOUSTON. 5 
 
 than work. He soon became ac-quaint-ed with 
 the Indians living near his home and spent much 
 of his time with them in the woods. 
 
 His famil}^ did not like this, so he was put to 
 work in a country store. Sam had no greater 
 liking for this kind of life than for farming, so 
 one day he sud-den-ly dis-ap-pear-ed. A great 
 search was made for him, but he could not be 
 found for several weeks. 
 
 At last it was learned that he had gone back 
 to his friends, the Indians. 
 
 When asked why he had acted in this way, he 
 said because he liked to measure deer tracks 
 better than tape. 
 
 When his clothes were worn out, he returned 
 home for more. 
 
 He was kindly received by his mother, who 
 gave him all the clothes he needed. 
 
 But he could not forget his free life in the 
 woods. 
 
6 SAM HOUSTON. 
 
 He longed to sport with the happy Indian 
 boys. 
 
 He longed to chase the deer. 
 
 He longed for the fresh air of the forests. 
 
 And he was soon back among the Indians 
 again. He staid with them most of the time, 
 till he was eighteen years of age. 
 
 Sam did not like hard study, but he was very 
 fond of reading. 
 
 His favorite book was Homer's Iliad, which 
 he carried with him to the woods. 
 
 This he read by the light of the Indians' 
 campiire at night, and in the daytime, when the 
 chase was ended, he would lay himself down 
 under the shade of a great tree and read for 
 hours at a time. 
 
 When he was eighteen years old, he left the 
 Indians and began to teach school for the pale- 
 faces, as the whites were called. 
 
 He wanted money to pay some debts. He had 
 
SAM HOUSTON. 7 
 
 few pupils at first, but he was not one of the 
 kind that gives up easily. He kept right on 
 and soon had more pupils than he could teach. 
 For pay he received corn, cotton cloth, and a lit- 
 tle monev. 
 •J 
 
 When he had made enough money to pay his 
 debts, he shut up his school. 
 
 He soon after became a soldier in the Un-i-ted 
 States army. 
 
 When he marched away, his mother, stand- 
 ing in the door of her cottage, handed him his 
 musket, saying : " Here, my son, take this mus- 
 ket and never disgrace it ; for re-mem-ber, I had 
 rather all my sons should fill one hon-or-a-ble 
 grave than that one of them should turn his 
 back to save his life. The door of ni}^ cottage 
 is ever open to brave men, but always shut 
 against cowards. " 
 
 He never forgot his mother's words. Where 
 
8 SAM HOUSTON. 
 
 the battle was thickest, there he was alwa3^s to 
 be found. 
 
 In a battle with the Indians he was shot by 
 an arrow that struck deep into his thigh. 
 
 He tried to pull it out, but failed. A com- 
 rade was then called upon to pull it out, but 
 failed also. "Try again, " said Houston, rais- 
 ing his sword, "and pull it out or I strike you 
 down." This time it came, tearing away the 
 flesh and leaving an ugly w^ound, which never 
 got entirely well. 
 
 When the war was over he was sent to New 
 Or-le-ans. 
 
 This was a lonof wav from his home. There 
 were no railroads in those days, so he, with two 
 other young men, floated down the Mis-sis-sip-pi 
 River in a canoe. 
 
 One day, as their skifl was turning a bend in 
 the river, they saw a strange sight. It was a 
 
SAM HOUSTON. 9 
 
 vessel coming up stream without any sails and 
 sending up a heavy column of smoke. 
 
 They thought it must be on fire. 
 
 On coming closer, they saw it was a steam- 
 boat, the first that ever went up the Mis-sis- 
 sip-pi River. 
 
 He soon returned to Ten-nes-see and made his 
 home in the city of Nash-ville. 
 
 He studied law and became a great lawyer. 
 Before long people began to hear about him all 
 over the State. The people wanted a wise man 
 to go to Con-gress to help make laws for the 
 whole land. When e-lec-tion day came they 
 chose Sam Houston to go. 
 
 When his time was out, they chose him to go 
 back again. 
 
 He did his work so well in Con-gress that peo- 
 ple began to sa}- that he would make a good 
 Gov-ern-or of the State. 
 
 Sam Houston never neg-lect-ed his work. 
 
10 SAM HOUSTON. 
 
 Whatever he had to do, he did well. And so 
 he wavS chosen Gov-ern-or. 
 
 For some cause he soon gave up the gov-ern-or- 
 ship and went to live again with his friends, the 
 Cher-o-kee Indians. 
 
 The Indians were de-light-ed to have him 
 with them once more. 
 
 Years before he had been a-clopt-ed as a son 
 by the Cher-o-kee chief. 
 
 He was given the name Col-o-neh, which means 
 "the Rover." K^^^-^ 
 
 When the old chief heard that his son was 
 coming to see him once more, he went down to 
 the river to meet him, taking his whole family 
 with him. 
 
 When he landed, the old chief threw his arms 
 around him and embraced him with great af-fec- 
 tion. 
 
 The chief said to him : "My son, eleven win- 
 ters have passed since we met. 
 
SAM HOUSTON. 11 
 
 "My heart havS wan-dered often where you 
 were. 
 
 ' ' I heard you were a great chief among your 
 people. 
 
 "We are in trouble, and the Great Spirit has 
 sent you to tell us what to do and take the trou- 
 ble away from us. 
 
 ' ' I know you will be our friend, for our 
 hearts are near to you. 
 
 "My wigwam is yours, my home is yours, my 
 people are yours — rest with us. ' ' 
 
 Houston was glad to be back again with his 
 old friend. 
 
 He said that when he laid himself down to 
 sleep that night he felt like a lost child returned 
 at last to his father's house. 
 
 Houston was always the friend of the red man. 
 
 He said that in all the years he had known 
 them he was never deceived by one of them. 
 
 Houston said the Indians were treated badly 
 
12 SAM HOUSTON. 
 
 by the white man. He had taken their lands 
 away from them. 
 
 He had robbed them of their forests and game. 
 
 He had given them "fire-wa-ter" to drink. 
 
 Houston loved them and felt sorry for them. 
 He said he would do all he could to help them. 
 He and they were children of the same Great 
 Father. 
 
 He got them money for their lands. He would 
 not let anyone sell them " fire-wa-ter. " He had 
 the bad men, who ill-treated them, punished. 
 
 After three years of forest life among the In- 
 dians, Houston de-ter-mined to become a herds- 
 man. 
 
 A herdsman is one who raises cattle. 
 
 The broad prairies of Texas are covered with 
 grass which cattle like to eat. 
 
 Houston thought Texas would be a good 
 place to start his ranch. 
 
 So, in 1832, with a few friends, he came to 
 
SAM HOUSTON. 13 
 
 Texas. He stopped for a while at Nac-og-do- 
 ches, and then went on to San An-ton-io. 
 
 At this time Texas belonged to Mex-i-co. 
 
 The people of Texas were badly treated by 
 the Mex-i-cans. 
 
 Many of them were thrown into prison with- 
 out cause. 
 
 They were not allowed to worship God in the 
 way they w^anted to. 
 
 They were not allowed to keep guns to pro- 
 tect themselves from the Indians. 
 
 They w^ere given no public schools. 
 
 They were not allowed to make their own 
 laws. 
 
 They were in great trouble and knew not 
 what to do. 
 
 They thought Houston might be able to help 
 them. 
 
 He was in-vit-ed to become their leader. 
 
 Houston was always careful about what he 
 
14 SAM HOUSTON. 
 
 said and did, and the people felt safe while he 
 was their leader. 
 
 War soon broke out between Texas and Mex- 
 i-co, and Houston was made gen-er-al of the 
 Texan army. 
 
 He was a wise com-mand-er. 
 
 He watched the enemy care-ful-ly. 
 
 When Gen-er-al San-ta An-na, the Mex-i-can 
 com-mand-er, marched his army into Texas, 
 Houston was on the lookout for him. 
 
 The two armies met on the banks of the San 
 Ja-cin-to River, not far from the present city of 
 Houston. 
 
 San-ta An-na 's army was nearly three times 
 as large as Houston's. 
 
 ^Before going into battle, Houston made a 
 speech to his men. 
 
 He told them that when they went into the 
 fight to re-mem-ber the Al-a-mo. 
 
 The Al-a-mo is an old church in San An-ton-io. 
 
SAM HOUSTON. 15 
 
 In this old church there had been a battle, in 
 which one hundred and fifty brave TexaUvS had 
 been killed by the Mex-i-cans. 
 
 Houston wanted his men to re-mem-ber this, 
 so they w^ould pay the Mex-i-cans back. 
 
 The battle w-as fought April 21, 1836. It is 
 called the Battle of San Ja-cin-to. 
 
 The Texans rushed into the battle shoutingf 
 "Re-mem-ber the Al-a-mo ! Re-mem-ber the 
 Al-a-mo ! " 
 
 The Mex-i-cans were very much fright-ened 
 and soon began to run. 
 
 The Texans followed them, killing many of 
 them. Gen-er-al San-ta An-na was taken pris- 
 on-er. He was found the day after the battle 
 crawling on all-fours through the tall grass of 
 the prairie. He had found some old clothes, 
 which he put on so that no one would know him. 
 He was placed on a horse behind a soldier, who 
 carried him to Gen-er-al Houston. 
 
16 SAM HOUSTON. 
 
 Houston's horse had been shot under him and 
 he himself was badly wounded in the ankle. The 
 wound was very painful and kept him awake all 
 night. When San-ta An-na was brought to him 
 he was lying on a pallet under an old oak tree 
 and had fallen into a doze. 
 
 San-ta An-na told him who he was and begged 
 that his life might be spared. 
 
 Houston was a brave man and he felt sorry 
 for the pris-on-er. He asked San-ta An-na not to 
 fight against the Texans any more, and then 
 sent him back to his home in Mex-i-co. 
 
 Texas was now free from Mex-i-co. They 
 could go back to their homes and live in peace. 
 They could make their own laws. 
 
 The people now wanted someone for Pres-i- 
 dent, and ey-er-y-bod-y thought Houston just the 
 man for the place. He was e-lec-ted and served 
 for two years. 
 
 Some years af-ter-wards he was made Pres-i- 
 
SAM HOUSTON. 17 
 
 dent again, and then Gov-ern-or of the State of 
 Texas. 
 
 When his time as Gov-ern-or was out, he went 
 back to his home in Hunts-ville, Texas. 
 
 Here he lived a quiet and happy life with his 
 wife and children. 
 
 He died July 26, 1863, aged seventy years. 
 
 The whole people of Texas mourned for him 
 as if he had been their father. 
 
 He is buried at Hunts-ville, Texas. 
 
STEPHEN F. AUSTIN. 
 
 Stephen F. Austin, like Houston, was a na-tive 
 of Vir-gin-ia. 
 
 He was born No-vem-ber 3, 1793. 
 
 His father was. Moses Austin. 
 
 He had one brother and one sister. 
 
 When Stephen was six years old his father 
 moved with his family to Mis-sou-ri to mine for 
 lead. 
 
 There were few white people in Mis-sou-ri at 
 that time. Wild Indians roamed over the plains 
 and hunted the buf-f a-lo. Sometimes they would 
 sud-den-ly appear before the white man's cabin, 
 when the father was away, and carry off the 
 mother and children. You may read in your 
 his-to-ry how Daniel Boone's daughter, and Mrs. 
 
STEPHEN F. AUSTIN. 19 
 
 AuvStin and her f am-i-ly were thus carried away. 
 
 Little Stephen had often seen the Indians gal- 
 lop-ing over the prai-ries, and more than once he 
 had heard their ter-ri-ble war-whoop. 
 
 There were no good schools in Mis-sou-ri at 
 that time, so at the age of eleven Stephen was 
 sent to school to Con-nec-ti-cut, his father's old 
 home. He made good use of his time, and after 
 four years he was able to enter a col-lege in Ken- 
 tuck-y. He grad-u-a-ted from here in a short 
 time with much honor. 
 
 When his school days were over he went back 
 to Mis-sou-ri. He was kind and gentle in dis- 
 po-si-tion. He was polite and re-spect-ful in 
 his manners. He was a hard worker. 
 
 He soon won the good will of his neighbors 
 
 and they sent him to the leg-is-lat-ure to help 
 
 make the laws. They were so well pleased with 
 
 him that they sent him back again and again 
 for six years. 
 
20 STKPHKN F. AUSTIN- 
 
 Austin now moved from Mis-sou-ri to Ark-an- 
 sas and opened up a farm. His good name fol- 
 lowed him, and the people here soon learned to 
 love and trust him as those at his old home had 
 done. In less than a year he was e-lect-ed judge. 
 
 About this time his father, Moses Austin, 
 went to San An-to-ni-o, Texas, to get per-mis- 
 sion to make a set-tle-ment in that country and 
 to raise cotton and sugar. On his way he stop- 
 ped at Stephen F. Austin 's farm and asked him 
 to help in making the set-tle-ment. 
 
 Stephen gave up his farm and went to New 
 Or-le-ans to get col-o-nists for the new set-tle- 
 ment. 
 
 When Moses Austin reached San An-to-ni-o he 
 was coldly received by the gov-ern-or and ordered 
 to quit the country. He was about to do this when 
 a friend of his, Bar-on de Bas-trop, begged him 
 not to go, and promised to see the gov-ern-or 
 for him. This he did, and in a few days Aus- 
 
STEPHEN F. AUSTIN. 21 
 
 tin was on his way back to Mis-sou-ri feeling 
 that his request would be granted. 
 
 Mis-sou-ri was a long way from Texas in those 
 days. One may take the cars now and in a few 
 hours go from one place to the other. Austin 
 traveled on horseback. On the journey he was 
 beset by many dangers. The wild Co-man-che 
 Indians roamed over the plains and killed ev^ery 
 white man they met. The weather was very 
 cold. The creeks and rivers, swollen by heavy 
 rams, had to be crossed by swimming or on 
 rafts. 
 
 When he got home to Mis-sou-ri, his health 
 was ruined, and in a little while he died. Just 
 before he died he sent word to his son Stephen 
 to carry out his plans. 
 
 True to his promise to his father, Stephen F. 
 Austin set out for San An-to-ni-o to see the Mex-i- 
 can gov-ern-or. His friend, Don E-ras-mo Se- 
 guin, went with him. He was welcomed by the 
 
22 STEPHEN F. AUSTIN. 
 
 gov-ern-or, to whom he showed his plans. The 
 gov-ern-or liked the plans, and Austin was given 
 land on which to settle his col-o-nists. 
 
 After picking out the land he wanted, he 
 went back to New Or-le-ans for his settlers. But 
 first he sent over a boatload of food for the 
 people, as there was nothing in the country for 
 them to eat when they should get there. The 
 boat landed the supplies at the mouth of the 
 Bra-zos River and hid them in the bushes along 
 the bank. It then returned to New Or-le-ans for 
 another load. 
 
 Austin, with his settlers, reached the Bra-zos 
 on New Year's day, 1822. They found their 
 pro-vis-ions had been stolen by the Indians. 
 They thouofht the boat would return with more 
 supplies, but she did not come. She never came. 
 Nothing was ever heard of her again. It is 
 thought that she w^as lost at sea with all on 
 board. But the people did not give up at this 
 
STKPHE:n F. AUSTIN. 23 
 
 bad news. They set to work felling the trees, 
 building themselves log cabins, and laying off 
 fields. When they were hungry the hunters 
 were sent to the woods to kill game. Often the 
 hunters never came back, but were found dead — 
 scalped by the Indians. 
 
 Austin having made the set-tle-ment, he 
 thought it right that he should tell the Mex-i- 
 can gov-ern-or about it. So he set out for San 
 An-to-ni-o, leaving a man named Josiah Bell as 
 leader of the col-o-nists. When he got to San 
 An to-ni-o, he was told that he must go on to 
 the City of Mex-i-co, more than a thousand miles 
 away. There was a new pres-i-dent of Mex-i-co, 
 who, he was told, would take his land away 
 from him if he did not go. 
 
 With only one com-pan-ion he set out on the 
 long and dan-ger-ous journey. Most of the way 
 they traveled on foot. The countrv through 
 "'"hich they passed was full of Indians and rob- 
 
24 STEPHEN F. AUSTIN. 
 
 bervS. When two days out from San An-ton-io 
 they were attacked and robbed by a band of 
 Co-man-che Indians. Austin and his friend now 
 dressed as beggars to escape the notice of the 
 robbers. At night they slept on the ground in 
 the open air and their food was of the coarsest 
 kind. 
 
 After thirty-six days they reached the City 
 of Mex-i-co. Here ev-er-y-thing was in dis-or-der. 
 Austin tried to see the pres-i-dent, but could not. 
 He waited awhile and tried again, but with no 
 better luck. But he did not give up. He waited 
 on for a year, and at last got the pres-i-dent to 
 agree not to take the lands away from his col-o- 
 nists but to give them more. 
 
 With this good news for his people he went 
 back home. Every one was glad to see him. 
 He was welcomed as a father. 
 
 While Austin was gone to Mex-i-co, many other 
 people had come into the col-o-ny and had begun 
 
STEPHEN F. AUSTIN. 25 
 
 to build towns. One of them they named San 
 Fe-li-pe de Aus-tin, in honor of Austin. For 
 ten years Austin watched over and care-f ul-ly 
 tended the little col-o-ny. 
 
 He punished the Indians and drove them from 
 the country. 
 
 He made wise laws. 
 
 The people were happy in their new homes. 
 
 But now trouble came upon them. They were 
 ill treated by the Mex-i-cans. 
 
 They were made to pay very high taxes. 
 
 Their friends in the Un-i-ted States were no 
 longer allowed to settle in the col-o-ny. 
 
 Their guns were taken away from them so 
 they could not protect themselves from the In- 
 dians. Mex-i-can soldiers were sent into the coun- 
 try, who behaved in a very in-sult-ing manner 
 to the people. 
 
 Some of the Texans were ar-rest-ed and 
 thrown into prison. 
 
26 STKPH:e;N F. AUSTIN. 
 
 The people sent a letter to the pres-i-dent of 
 Mex-i-co, asking for their rights. 
 
 The bearer of this letter was Stephen F. Aus- 
 tin. 
 
 Austin had not f or-got-ten his other journey to 
 Mex-i-co and its trials. His feelings told him not 
 to go again, but to stay at home and be happy 
 on his farm. But duty called him to go and he 
 obeyed. 
 
 General San-ta An-na was then pres-i-dent of 
 Mexico. He pre-tend-ed to be the friend of 
 Texas. But when Austin s^ot to the City of 
 Mex-i-co he would not see him. He had no time 
 to listen to such a little matter as a letter from 
 the Texans. Austin tried to see him again and 
 again, but failed. 
 
 Sick at heart over his failure, Austin started 
 home. He had not gone far when he was ar- 
 rest-ed by some Mex-i-can soldiers, taken back to 
 the city and thrown into prison. Here he was 
 
STEPHEN F. AUSTIN. 27 
 
 kept for more than two years. Part of the 
 time he was denied light, books, ink, pen and 
 paper. His health was almost ruined. 
 
 In the darkness of his prison he thought of 
 his beloved Texas and how he might do some- 
 thing for her should he ever be set free. 
 
 But perhaps he should die in prison. Who 
 then would help her ? These thoughts, he said, 
 almost crazed him. 
 
 But at last he was allowed to return to his 
 home. Great was the joy of his people when 
 they saw him again. 
 
 Austin had been at home hardly a month when 
 war broke out between Mex-i-co and Texas. Mex- 
 i-can soldiers were sent to take away the arms 
 of the Texans. The Texans would not give 
 them up. They needed them to protect their 
 homes from the Indians. They said they would 
 die. before they would give them up. 
 
 The first fight took place at Gon-za-les, Oc-to- 
 
28 STEPHEN F. AUSTIN. 
 
 ber 2, 1835. The TexanvS had a small cannon 
 here which the Mex-i-cans were told to take. 
 "Take it if you can," vsaid the Texans, and 
 fired it into the enemy's ranks. They used the 
 little gun so well that the Mex-i-cans were soon 
 whipped. Four of them were killed and many 
 wounded. The Texans lost not a man. 
 
 And now some one was wanted to command 
 the Texas army. All eyes turned toward Aus- 
 tin, and he was chosen. It was now Gen-er-al 
 Austin. He marched against the enemy and 
 whipped them in several fights. 
 
 The people of Texas were poor. They had 
 no money, and the soldiers needed food and 
 clothes. They must get help somewhere. It 
 was de-cid-ed to send some one to the U-nit-ed 
 States to ask for help. Austin was chosen to go. 
 When he was told that he had been chosen, he 
 said, "I go on this mission from a sense of duty. 
 It is a bad ex-am-ple for anyone to refuse the call 
 
STE;PHEN p. AUSTIN 29 
 
 of the people when the country is in dif -fi-cult-y. 
 I have been called to go, and 1 obey the call." 
 He left the army in charge of Gen-er-al Edward 
 Bur-le-son. 
 
 When he got to the U-nit-ed States he made 
 speeches everywhere. He told of the wrongs of 
 the Texans. He told of their cruel treatment 
 by the Mex-i-cans. He told how bravely they 
 were fighting for lib-er-ty. He asked for money 
 and men to help them. 
 
 The people of the U-nit-ed States heard him 
 gladly. All over the country men shouldered 
 their rifles and set out for Texas. Money was 
 sent, too. 
 
 After much fighting, the Mex-i-cans were whip- 
 ped, and Texas became free. Peace once more 
 settled down on the country. The soldiers laid 
 down their arms and went back to their homes. 
 Gardens were planted and fields plowed, and 
 the whole country soon blossomed like a rose. 
 
30 STEPHEN F. AUSTIN. 
 
 Austin was happy. His people were free. 
 The}^ had their own pres-i-dent and made their 
 own laws. 
 
 Gen-er-al Sam Houston was the pres-i-dent. 
 
 The pres-i-dent needed some helpers, and he 
 asked Austin to be one of them. There was 
 
 much work to be done, but work for Texas was 
 ever a pleas-ure to Austin. His health was weak 
 and he worked too hard. He was seized with 
 a sudden illness of which he died in a few days, 
 De-cem-ber 27, 1836. 
 
 He was only 43 years old when he died. 
 
 The news of his death brought sorrow to 
 every house-hold. 
 
 "He was known and beloved by all. Every 
 child of every col-o-nist was known to him, was 
 '=^ger to welcome him, and to be per-mit-ted to 
 play upon his knee. " 
 
 He was buried at Peach Point, on the Bra-zos 
 River, near Co-lum-bi-a. 
 
 He is ealled The Father of Texas. 
 
 The city of Austin is named for him. 
 
DAVID CROCKETT. 
 
 In the ' ' Life of Sam Houston ' ' you were told 
 of the brave men who died in the Al-a-mo, fight- 
 ing for the free-dom of Texas. 
 
 One of these men was David Crockett. 
 
 David Crockett was born in Ten-nes-see. He 
 was born on the 17th of August, in the year 
 1786. He had fLve brothers and three sisters. 
 His father was very poor and the fam-i-l}^ lived 
 far back in the backwoods. 
 
 The house in which they lived w^as made of 
 logs. The chinks between the logs were filled 
 with clay. There wxre no windows in the house, 
 and light and fresh air came in through the door 
 or through the chinks in the wall. Small holes 
 
32 DAVID CROCKETT. 
 
 were made in the walls through which guns 
 might be put to shoot at the Indians. 
 
 The country was full of Indians at that time. 
 They were very trou-ble-some. They would hide 
 themselves near the settler's cabin and shoot 
 down anyone who came out of the door. Often 
 they would attack the house, break down the 
 door, and kill the entire fam-i-ly. Crockett's 
 grand-fa-ther and grand-moth-er were both 
 killed by them. 
 
 When David was seven or eight years old, his 
 father gave up the farm and opened a mill. It 
 was a mill for grinding corn into meal. The 
 mill house was built on the banks of a small 
 stream. One night there came a great rain 
 storm. The water in the stream rose verv high 
 and washed away the mill house. It came up 
 into the house in which Mr. Crockett lived and 
 he had to move his fam-i-ly out to keep them 
 from being drowned. 
 
DAVID CROCKETT. 33 
 
 Mr. Crockett now moved to an-oth-er part of 
 the country and opened a tavern. 
 
 David, being next to the oldest son, was a 
 great help to his father and mother. 
 
 When trav-el-ers would stop at the tavern 
 for the night, David would help them to un- 
 hitch and feed their teams. 
 
 One night an old Dutch-man by the name of 
 Jacob Siler stopped at the tavern. He was go- 
 ing to Vir-gin-ia and had a large stock of cattle 
 that he was taking with him. He wanted some 
 one to help him with his cattle. He liked Dav- 
 id's bright face and bus-i-ness manner, and asked 
 Mr. Crockett to hire him. David was now about 
 twelve vears old. He loved his father and 
 mother dearly and hated very much to leave 
 home. But the fam-i-ly was very poor and he 
 must help make the living. With a heavy heart 
 he set out on the journey. It was four hundred 
 miles to the place he was going and he had to 
 
34 DAVID CROCKETT. 
 
 travel on foot. He got very tired and often 
 wished to be back at home with his dear father 
 and mother. But he felt it his duty to go on. 
 
 His Dutch master was pleased with him and 
 at the end of the journey gave him five or six 
 dollars as his wages. It was a small sum, but 
 David was very proud of it. It was the first 
 money he had ever earned. 
 
 He wanted to go home and take the money to 
 his father. But his master did not want him to 
 go and kept a strict watch over him. One day 
 he and two other boys were playing by the road- 
 side, some distance from the house. There came 
 along three wagons. They belonged to an old 
 man who was going to Ten-nes-see and who 
 knew David's father. David begged the old 
 man to take him home. The old man said he 
 would stay that night at a tavern seven miles 
 away, and if David could get there before day 
 the next morning he would take him home. This 
 
DAVID CROCKliTT. 35 
 
 was Sunday evening. David went back to his 
 master's house and found the fam-i-ly were out 
 on a visit. He gathered his clothes and his 
 money and put them all to-geth-er under the 
 head of his bed. He went to bed early that 
 night, but he could not sleep. He kept think- 
 ing and thinking about his father and mother. 
 And then, too, what if his master should find 
 out that he was going home ? 
 
 About three hours before day he got up to 
 make his start. The night was dark and cold. 
 It was snowing fast, and the snow was then on 
 the ground about eight inches deep. Before he 
 got to the wagons it was up to his knees. 
 
 He got to the wagons about an hour before 
 day. The men were al-read-y up and getting 
 ready to start. The old man treated him with 
 great kindness. David warmed himself by the 
 fire and ate a hearty break-fast, after which the 
 party set out on their journey. 
 
36 DAVID CROCKETT. 
 
 How slowly the wheels turned round ! To 
 David they seemed almost to stop. It seemed to 
 him that he would never get home. He thought 
 he could go faster by walking, so he told his old 
 friend good-bye and set out on foot. He walked 
 on until he was ov-er-tak-en by a man leading a 
 horse, who offered to let him ride. He was 
 very glad of this chance, as he was very tired. 
 This kind man took him within fifteen miles of 
 his father's house, when they parted and David 
 walked home. 
 
 Up to this time David had never been to 
 school a dav. He could neither read nor write. 
 Near his father's house was a little country 
 school, kept by a man named Kitchen. To this 
 school his father now sent him. 
 
 He had gone but four days and had just be- 
 gun to learn his letters, when a falling out with 
 a boy much larger and older than himself caused 
 him to quit school. 
 
DAVID CROCKETT. 37 
 
 He did not go to vSchool again until he was fif- 
 teen years old. Then he began to think that all 
 his troubles were caused by his want of learn- 
 ing, and that he had better go to school some 
 more. By working two days a week he got one 
 of his neighbors to board him, and went to 
 school the other four days of the week. He 
 kept this up for six months. In this time he had 
 learned to read a little, to write his own name, 
 and to cipher some. And this was all the 
 schooling he ever had. David was very fond of 
 shooting, and as soon as he could get money 
 enough bought him a good rifle. He carried it 
 with him wherever he went. He often went to 
 shooting matches, where they shot for beef. He 
 was such a good shot that he often won the 
 whole beef. 
 
 When he grew to be a man he became a great 
 hunter. The country where he lived was full of 
 deer, bears and other wild an-i-mals. When his 
 
38 DAVID CROCKETT. 
 
 fam-i-ly wanted meat, he would go out into the 
 woods and shoot a deer or a bear. 
 
 Here is a story he tells of one of his bear 
 hunts: "In the morning I left my son at the 
 camp, and we started towards the cane-brake. 
 When we had gone about a mile, we started a 
 very large bear, but we had to go very slowly, 
 as the earth was full of cracks, caused by earth- 
 quakes, and there was much danger of falling 
 into them. We kept in hearing of the dogs, 
 though, for about three miles, when we came to 
 the cane-brake. 
 
 "By this time sev-er-al of the dogs had got 
 tired and come back. We went ahead for some 
 little time into the cane-brake, when we met the 
 bear coming straight to us, and not more than 
 twenty yards off. I started my dogs after him, 
 and I followed on to about the middle of the 
 cane-brake. Here I found the bear in an old 
 stump of a tree about twenty feet high, with 
 
DAVID CROCKETT. 39 
 
 the dogs barking all around him. When I got 
 close enough to shoot, I fired, and the bear fell. 
 I ran up to him, but he was not dead. I loaded 
 my gun as quickly as I could, shot him again 
 and killed him. When we had skinned the bear, 
 we cut off the fat, packed it on our horses, and 
 started back to camp. We had gone but a lit- 
 tle way when I heard my dogs barking again. 
 I jumped down from my horse and gave him to 
 my friend. He went on to camp, and I fol- 
 lowed the dogs with all my might. 
 
 "Soon night came on. The woods were rough 
 and hilly and all covered over with cane. I 
 had to move very slowly. Sev-er-al times I fell 
 over logs and into cracks made by the earth- 
 quakes. I was very much afraid I would break 
 m}^ gun. I went on about three miles till I 
 came to a big creek which I waded. The water 
 was about knee-deep and very cold. It was now 
 so very dark that I could hardly see my way. 
 
40 DAVID CROCKETT. 
 
 When I got to the dogs, I found they had treed 
 a bear in a large forked tree. 
 
 "I could vsee the dark hump in the tree, but 
 not well enough to vshoot. I hunted for some 
 dry brush to make a light, but could find none. 
 At last I thought I could shoot by guess and 
 kill him. I pointed as near the hump as I could 
 and fired. The bear did not fall, but climbed 
 higher and got out on a limb, where I could see 
 him better. I loaded again and fired, but he 
 didn't move at all. I was loading for a third 
 fire, when, the first thing I knew, the bear was 
 down among the dogs, and they wxre fighting 
 all around me. At last the bear got into one 
 of the cracks made by the earth-quakes. I could 
 not see a wink. I pushed my gun against him 
 and fired. With that he jumped out of the 
 crack, and he and the dogs had another hard 
 fight around me. At last the dogs forced him 
 back into the crack again. 
 
DAVID CROCKETT. 41 
 
 " I had laid down my gun in the dark, and I 
 now began to hunt for it. I got hold of a pole, 
 and I thought I would punch the bear awhile 
 with that. When I punched him, the dogs 
 would jump in on him, when he would bite them 
 and make them jump out again. 
 
 "While the dogs kept his head toward them, 
 I got down into the crack and killed him with a 
 long knife I carried in my belt. 
 
 " I suffered very much with cold that night. 
 My clothes were wet and frozen. My fire was 
 very bad and I could not find anything that 
 would burn well to make it any better. I 
 thought I should freeze if I didn't warm 'my- 
 self in some way by ex-er-cise. I got up and 
 shouted awhile with all my might. Then I 
 would jump up and down and throw myself into 
 all sorts of motions. But this would not do. 
 My blood was getting cold and the chills were 
 coming all over me. I was so tired, too, that I 
 
42 DAVID CROCKETT. 
 
 could hardly walk. But I thought I would do 
 the best I could to save my life. I went to a 
 tree about two feet through and not a limb on 
 it for thirty feet, and I would climb up to the 
 limbs, then lock my arms around it and slide 
 don two the bottom again. I kept on doing this 
 till daylight. In the morning I hung my bear 
 up, so as to be safe, and set out to hunt for my 
 camp. I found it in a short while. My son and 
 my friend were rejoiced to see me, as they had 
 given me up for lost. " 
 
 Crockett was a great Indian fighter, as well 
 as bear hunter. He was in many battles with 
 the Indians and was a brave soldier. When he 
 went to war he was called Col-o-nel Crockett. 
 
 Col-o-nel Crockett was much liked by his 
 neigh-bors wher-ev-er he lived. He was kind- 
 hearted. He was full of fun. He was pleasant 
 to everyone he met. He was honest. In all 
 things he tried to do what was right. His 
 
DAVID CROCKETT. 43 
 
 motto was, "Be sure you are right, then go 
 ahead. " 
 
 The people wanted a man of this kind to help 
 make the laws, and they chose Col-o-nel Crock- 
 ett. They sent him first to the Leg-is-lat-ure 
 of the State, and then to Con-gress. 
 
 He stayed in Con-gress sev-er-al years. When 
 his time was out, he de-ter-mined to go to Texas 
 and help her against the Mex-i-cans. 
 
 It made him very sad to leave his home. He 
 loved his wife, his children and his friends. He 
 loved his home and country. He loved freedom. 
 Texas was fighting for freedom and needed sol- 
 diers verv much. So biddino^ farewell to home 
 and friends, he set out for that strange land. 
 On the way he was joined l)y two com-pan-ions. 
 One day they were riding through the prai-ries 
 when they heard a low rumbling noise like 
 thunder. They stopped and listened. Nearer 
 and louder grew the noise. They looked in the 
 
44 DAVID CROCKETT. 
 
 dir-ec-tion from which the sound came and saw 
 a great cloud of dust rising over the prai-rie. 
 They thought it must be a storm coming. The 
 noise grew louder and louder. The cloud of 
 dust became thicker and thicker. Their horses 
 became very much fright-ened, so they ran and 
 caught them and rode into a grove of trees near 
 by. They had just got tmder the trees when a 
 great herd of buf-fa-lo came dashing by as swift 
 as the wind. If the Col-o-nel and his friends 
 had not ridden under the trees they would have 
 been trampled to death. 
 
 Col-o-nel Crockett had long wanted a chance 
 to hunt buf-fa-lo, and now here it was. He 
 watched the herd for a few moments, then put 
 ispurs to his horse and followed them, leaving 
 his friends behind him. He rode on as fast as 
 his horse could carry him. But he could not 
 keep up with the buf-fa-loes, which were soon 
 lost to sight in the distance. 
 
DAVID CROCKETT 45 
 
 He now stopped to let hivS horse breathe and 
 to think how he should get back to his friends 
 and the road he had left. He looked around 
 him on every side, but nothing was to be seen 
 but the broad prai-rie. Not even an an-i-mal was 
 in sight. Not a sound was to be heard. He 
 was lost on the prai-rie. 
 
 Niofht came on and he besfan to look for a 
 place of shelter. He found a large tree that had 
 blown down and he thought he would sleep in 
 its top. He climbed up among the branches, 
 when he heard a low growl. He looked up to 
 see what sort of a bed-fel-low he was to have, 
 when he saw, not more than five or six steps a 
 away, a great Mex-i-can lion. With flashing 
 eyes and grinning teeth he was just ready to 
 spring upon the Col-o-nel. As quickly as he 
 could Crockett raised his rifie to his shoulder 
 and fired. The ball struck the lion on the fore- 
 bead, but did not hurt him much. The next 
 
46 DAVID CR0CKI:TT. 
 
 moment he sprang. He lighted on the ground 
 close by Crockett, who struck him over the head 
 with the barrel of his rifle. But he didn't mind 
 that at all. Crockett now threw down his gun 
 and drew his large hunting knife. The lion 
 came at him again and seized him by the 
 ■ shoulder. Crockett's foot tripped in a vine and 
 he fell to the ground with the lion on top of him. 
 Crockett thought his last hour had come. His 
 arm and leg were badly torn. He felt himself 
 getting very weak. Gath-er-ing all his strength 
 for a last blow he struck the lion with all his 
 might in the neck. The lion let go his hold and 
 in another moment rolled over on his side dead. 
 Crockett now went back to the tree to make 
 his bed. He threw some moss on the ground, 
 and over it spread his horse blanket. On this 
 bed he lay down and, being very tired, soon fell 
 fast asleep. He awoke at daybreak next morn- 
 ing. He was sore and stiff from his fight with 
 
DAVID CROCKETT. 47 
 
 the lion. He went for liivS horvse, but it had run 
 away during- the night. What should he do, 
 away off in this wild country, afoot and alone ? 
 
 While he was thinking, a band of In-di-ans 
 rode up and sur-round-ed him. They were 
 friendly to the white men. The chief g-ave 
 Crockett another horse and promised to take 
 him back to his friends. The camp w^as reached 
 that evening, when Crockett bade farewell to 
 his kind friends, the In-di-ans, and they rode 
 away. 
 
 Crockett's com-pan-ions were de-light-ed to 
 see him. The next day they reached the Al-a-mo. 
 
 The Al-a-mo was an old church in the city of 
 San An-to-ni-o. The Texans had taken the 
 town from the Mex-i-cans some time before and 
 turned the old church into a fort. Col-o-nel 
 William B. Travis, with one hundred and eighty 
 soldiers, held the fort for the Texans. Col-o-nel 
 Travis and his men were glad to see Crockett 
 
48 DAVID CROCKKTT. 
 
 and his com-pan-ions and welcomed them to the 
 
 fort. 
 
 Not many days after Crockett's ar-riv-al news 
 came that the Mex-i-can gen-er-al, San-ta An-na, 
 with a large army was coming to take the fort. 
 
 The Texans made ready to receive them. 
 They stored their arms and pro-vis-ions in the 
 fort and raised the Texas flag. 
 
 The Mex-i-cans marched into the city with a 
 blood-red flag flying. This red flag meant that 
 all who were taken pris-on-ers would be put to 
 death. 
 
 They sent a mes-sen-ger to Col-o-nel Travis, 
 asking him to sur-ren-der. They told him that 
 if he did not sur-ren-der every man would be 
 put to death. Col-o-nel Travis' answer was a 
 cannon shot. 
 
 Col-o-nel Travis now sent word to Gen-er-al 
 Houston that he was sur-round-ed by the Mex-i- 
 cans and asked for help. In his letter he said, 
 
DAVID CROCKETT. 49 
 
 "I shall never sur-ren-der or retreat ! Vic-to-ry 
 or death ! " 
 
 But no help came. The Mex-i-cans drew 
 nearer and nearer to the fort. On the 6th of 
 March, 1836, before daybreak, they closed about 
 the walls of the fort. They brought ladders 
 with them and tried to climb over the walls. 
 But. the Texans poured upon them a ter-ri-ble 
 hail of shot and shell and kept them back. A 
 second time they went up the ladders, but with 
 no better success. A third time they swarmed 
 up the ladders, driven by the swords of their 
 of-fi-cers. This time they went over the walls 
 amongst the Texans. The Texans ' 'fought like 
 brave men — long and well." They sold their 
 lives as dearly as pos-si-ble. When daylight came 
 only six of them were found alive. Among this 
 number was Col-o-nel Crockett. He stood alone 
 in a corner of the fort, the barrel of his shat- 
 tered rifle in his right hand and his huge bowie 
 
50 DAVID CROCKETT. 
 
 knife in his left. There was a great gash across 
 his forehead. Twenty or thirty of his foes lay 
 dead at his feet. 
 
 Crockett with the other five Texans were 
 taken pris-on-er and carried before Gen-er-al 
 San-ta An-na, who ordered them to be put to 
 death at once. 
 
 When Crockett heard this order he sprang 
 like a tiger at San-ta An-na, but before he could 
 reach him a dozen swords pierced his heart and 
 he fell and died without a groan. 
 
LA SALLE. 
 
 The first white man to make a vSet-tle-ment in 
 Texas was Robert Cav-e-lier de la Salle. 
 
 La Salle was a Frenchman. 
 
 He was born at Rou-en, Nor-man-dy, in 1643. 
 
 His father, who was a wealthy merchant, gave 
 him a fine ed-u-ca-tion and in-tend-ed him to be a 
 priest. 
 
 At this tim^ thousands of Frenclimen were 
 flocking to the New World in search of fortune. 
 Won-der-ful stories were told of the land beyond 
 the sea. There was the Fountain of Youth, that 
 wondrous spring that would restore youth and 
 beauty to all who bathed in its waters. There 
 was El Do-ra-do, the golden land, where the 
 
52 LA SAIvLE. 
 
 people ate and drank out of vessels of silver and 
 gold. 
 
 The boy, La Salle, heard these stories, and 
 he longed for the time to come w^hen he, too, 
 should cross the w^aters and visit this new found 
 land. 
 
 He could not study as he once did. The school 
 room seemed a prison to him. Every day, as he 
 heard these stories, he became more restless 
 and dis-con-tent-ed. A life of bold ad-vent-ure 
 was his only dream of hap-pi-ness. 
 
 At last he gave up the idea of be-com-ing a 
 priest, and at the age of twenty-four joined an 
 €x-pe-di-tion to Can-a-da. 
 
 ^And now the free life he had been longing for 
 was his. 
 
 He went first to Mont-re-al, where he had a 
 brother, a priest. 
 
 Mont-re-al was at that time a very dan-ger- 
 ous place. 
 
LA SALLE. S3 
 
 It was vsur-round-ed by In-di-ans who were 
 very savage and always at war with the people 
 of the French col-o-ny. No one could venture 
 out into the fields or forests without fear of los- 
 ing his life. 
 
 Eight or nine miles from Mont-re-al, in the 
 heart of the forest, LaSalle bought some land 
 and began to make a set-tle-ment. He built a 
 strong fort for pro-tec-tion against the In-di- 
 ans. The ground was cleared of trees and log 
 cabins were built for the settlers. 
 
 The In-di ans often came to the set-tle-ment 
 to trade furs, beads and other trinkets of the 
 white man, and for powder and shot. 
 
 One day he was vis-it-ed by a band of In-di-ans, 
 who told him of a great river many miles to the 
 west, flowing into the sea. 
 
 La Salle, like Co-lum-bus, wanted to find a 
 short route to Chi-na. He thought he might 
 get to Chi-na by sailing down this great river. 
 
54 I.A SAIvIvE. 
 
 This thought set him on fire. Al-read-y he 
 saw his ships anchored in the ports of Chi-na 
 and loading with the precious stuffs which all 
 the world wanted. 
 
 He could not rest. He went to the Gov- 
 ern-or of Can-a-da to get per-mis-sion to sail 
 down the great river. 
 
 Per-mis-sion was given, and La Salle set out 
 on his journey to find the great Father of 
 Waters. 
 
 Ten long years he spent in the wil-der-ness 
 seeking for the great river. Through frozen 
 forests and over trackless fields of snow he took 
 his way, every step watched by a savage In-di-an. 
 
 Dangers beset him on every side. Sev-er-al 
 times his en-e-mies tried to poison him. Often 
 he was in danger of star-va-tion and drowning. 
 His friends tried to persuade him to give up his 
 search and, when he refused to do so, left him. 
 
IvA SAI^I^S:. 55 
 
 But nothing could turn him from his purpose. 
 He would find the great river or die trying. 
 
 At last his patience was re-ward-ed. On the 
 sixth of February, 1682, he paddled his canoes 
 out upon the broad bosom of the Mis-sis-sip-pi. 
 
 For many days his canoes floated down the 
 mighty stream. At one time they were in dan- 
 ger of being upset by large masses of floating 
 ice. At another time the party was attacked 
 by In-di-ans, who sent a shower of arrows whiz- 
 zing round their heads. 
 
 On the sixth of April, two months from the 
 time the journey had begun, La Salle and his 
 party reached the mouth of the Mis-sis-sip-pi. 
 Here La Salle set up a column and took pos-ses- 
 sion of the country on both sides of the river 
 for his king, Louis XIV of France. La Salle 
 called the name of the country Lou-is-i-an-a. 
 
 La Salle now returned to Can-a-da and from 
 there to France to tell the king of his great 
 
56 I^A SAIyl^K. 
 
 dis-cov-er-y. He told of the mighty river down 
 which he had floated, and of the beau-ti-ful 
 country through which it flowed. He told of 
 great fortunes which might be made there trad- 
 ing with the In-di-ans, and of the rich silver 
 mines of Mex-i-co that might be taken from the 
 Span-iards. He told of the poor heathen In-di- 
 ans who might be made Christ-ians. He asked 
 per-mis-sion of the king to make a set-tle-ment 
 at the mouth of the river where he had set up 
 the column. 
 
 The king listened to all he said with much 
 at-ten-tion, and then told La Salle that his wish 
 should be granted. 
 
 La Salle went to work at once to make ready 
 for the voyage. His heart throbbed with hap- 
 pi-ness, for this was his dream come true. 
 
 Soon four vessels were ready. Their names 
 were Ai-ma-ble, Jo-li, Belle and St. Fran-cis. 
 
I.A SAIvIvE. 57 
 
 On board these vessels were one hundred and 
 eighty nien, seven priests and seven fam-i-lies. 
 
 The Jo-li was a war ship car-ry-ing thirty-six 
 guns, and on this La Salle sailed. 
 
 The voyage was begun July 24, 1684. The 
 passage across the At-lan-tic was a long and 
 stormy one. They had been out only four days 
 when the Jo-li broke her bow-sprit and had to 
 sail back to get it mended. A great storm sep- 
 a-rat-ed the vessels, and the store-ship St. 
 Fran-cis was taken by the Span-iards. La Salle 
 was attacked by a fever which almost cost him 
 his life. 
 
 After sailing for two months they entered the 
 Gulf of Mex-i-co. All eyes now kept a sharp 
 lookout for the mouth of the Mis-sis-sip-pi, 
 where La Salle in-tend-ed to plant his col-o-ny. 
 
 Day after day passed by, but n^^ signs of the 
 ofreat river were to be seen. At last a wide 
 opening was seen between two low points of 
 
58 lyA SALIvE. 
 
 land. La Salle thought this wavS the Mis-sis- 
 sip-pi, but it was Gal-ves-ton Bay. 
 
 La Salle had left one of his vessels behind 
 and he waited here five or six days for it to 
 come up. He then sailed westward along the 
 Texas coast. He tried to land at sev-er-al 
 places, but the sandbars and breakers kept 
 him back. Some In-di-ans swam out through 
 the surf and were taken on board. 
 
 Buf-fa-lo were seen running along the shore 
 and deer grazed on the prairie. 
 
 The ships kept sailing to the west till Mat-a- 
 gor-da Bay was reached. La Salle thought this 
 was the Mis-sis-sip-pi and landed his men. One 
 
 of his ships was wrecked when it crossed the 
 
 ■I 
 L»ar. 
 
 LaSalle w.as on the shore watching the ship. 
 
 Some of his jnen were a short distance away 
 
 cutting down a tree to make a canoe. Sud-den-ly 
 
 some of them came running to La Salle crying 
 
IvA SAIvIvE. 59 
 
 out that their com-pan-ions had been carried 
 away by the In-di-arivS. 
 
 La Salle ordered his men to take their arnivS 
 and pursue the In-di-ans. They soon found the 
 In-di-an village and rescued the captives. 
 
 The whole party now camped on the beach. 
 They had bad water and food which made many 
 of them sick. Five or six died every day. The 
 In-di-ans came to the camp and stole blankets 
 and other ar-ti-cles and killed several of the 
 Frenchmen. 
 
 La Salle soon found that he was not on the 
 Mis-sis-sip-pi. It was a great dis-ap-point-ment 
 to him. But it must be found, cost what it 
 might. 
 
 He built a fort, which he named Fort St. 
 Louis, to protect his people from the In-di-ans, 
 and then set out with fifty men to search for 
 the Mis-sis-sip-pi. 
 
 For weeks and months they wandered through 
 
60 IvA SAIvIvE. 
 
 the wil-der-ness, but no glimpse of the river 
 gladdened their eyes or lightened their hearts. 
 They were attacked by the In-di-ans and many 
 of their number killed. Their clothes were in 
 rags. Pood was scarce. At last, foot-sore and 
 weary, they returned to the fort. 
 
 The dangers and dis-ap-point-ments through 
 which he had passed made Jl^a Salle ill. For 
 many days it was thought that he would die. 
 He got well, however, and at once began to 
 make ready for another journey to search for 
 the river. This time he took twenty men with 
 him, among whom were his brother and nephew, 
 and journeyed in a north-east-er-ly di-rec-tion. 
 It was a beau-ti-ful country through which he 
 passed. The prai-ries were covered with lovely 
 flowers and fresh green grass, on which thous- 
 ands of buf-fa-lo were feeding. 
 
 But mis-for-tune and dis-ap-point-ment met 
 him again and caused him to return to the 
 
IvA SA^IvLE. 61 
 
 fort. Only eight men returned with him. One 
 had been lost and one devoured by an al-li-ga- 
 tor, four de-sert-ed him, and the othervS, too 
 weak to keep up, were left to die upon the prai- 
 rie. 
 
 Of the one hundred and eighty col-o-nists 
 only forty-five now remained. 
 
 But La Salle was not the man to give up. He 
 knew no such word as fail. After a short rest 
 he prepared to renew his search. 
 
 When ev-er-y-thing 'was ready, he called his 
 little com-pa-ny about him and told them of his 
 plans. Twenty men were to go with him and 
 the others were to remain at the fort till he 
 could bring them help. He told those who were 
 to remain to be brave and patient and watch for 
 his coming. Then he said farewell and rode 
 out of the gate. " It was a bitter parting, one 
 of sighs, tears and em-brac-ings. " Slowly the 
 
62 IvA SAIvIvE. 
 
 little party wound its way along the prairie, 
 till it was lost to sight in the distance. 
 
 In the party w^ere two nephews and a brother 
 of LaSalle ; the trusty soldier Jou-tel, and a 
 priest An-as-tase Dou-ay; Du-haut and Li-o-tot, 
 the surgeon. 
 
 " They passed the prai-rie and neared the 
 forest. Here they saw buf-fa-lo and the hunters 
 killed sev-er-al of them. Heavy clouds gathered 
 over them and it rained all night ; but they 
 sheltered themselves under the hides of the buf- 
 fa-lo they had killed. ' ' 
 
 They met In-di-ans almost every day. They 
 often vis-i-ted them in their lodges and smoked 
 with them the peace-pipe. 
 
 But now trouble arose among the party. Du- 
 haut and Li-o-tot, the surgeon, hated La Salle 
 and his nephew Mor-an-get, and had sworn ven- 
 geance against them. Food was getting scarce 
 in the camp, and La Salle sent a party of men 
 
IvA SALIvE. 63 
 
 ahead to find some corn and beans which he had 
 hidden on one of his other journeys. 
 
 In this party were Du-haut, Li-o-tot, Ni-ka- 
 an In-di-an hunter, and La Salle's servant, Sa- 
 get. They found the food, but it was spoiled. 
 On their w^ay back to camp they saw buf-fa-lo, 
 and Ni-ka killed two of them. 
 
 They cut up the meat and laid it on scaffolds 
 for smoking and sent word to La Salle to send 
 horses for it. Next morning La Salle sent Mor- 
 an-get and another man with horses for the 
 meat. When they arrived at the hunter's camp 
 Mor-an-get and Du-haut began to quarrel about 
 the meat. 
 
 That night, Mor-an-get, Ni-ka and Sa-get 
 were killed while they slept. All the next day 
 La Salle watched for their return. When they 
 did not come, he resolved to go and look for 
 them. He did not know the way, and he told 
 
64 ' I^A SAIvIvE. 
 
 an In-di-an that he would give him a hatchet to 
 guide him. 
 
 La Salle was very sad and down-heart-ed, and 
 seemed to feel that something was wrong. In 
 the morning he set out with his In-di-an guide 
 and Father An-as-tase. 
 
 When close to Du-haut's camp he fired his 
 gun to let his men know where he was. 
 
 Du-haut heard the gun and guessed rightly 
 that it was La Salle coming to look for his 
 nephew. He and the surgeon, Li-o-tot, crouched 
 down in the long, dry, reed-like grass and 
 waited for La Salle to come up. 
 
 When he came within speaking distance a shot 
 was fired from the grass, quickly followed by 
 another, and, pierced through the brain. La 
 Salle dropped dead. 
 
 His body was dragged into the bushes and 
 left a prey to the buzzards and the wolves. 
 
LA SAIvIvE. 65 
 
 Thus, at the age of forty-three, died Robert 
 Cav-e-lier de la Salle, one of the greatest men 
 of his time, and one whom every Texan should 
 delig"ht to honor. 
 
9. 
 
 alveston 
 
 A HIGH GRADE 
 TRAINING SCHOOL 
 OF 
 
 m 
 
 usiness 
 
 71 
 
 nwersity. 
 
 :fi5usine6S aiiD 
 
 SbortbanD anC* 
 ^v?pc writing, 
 Ipenmansbip 
 anD :EnQli6b. 
 
 T>a.y and Night Sessions. No Vacations. Visitors Welcome. Call and 
 see the bankintr and office departments in active operation. 
 
 3)0(00)0(0 
 
 o)o(oD}0(f| 
 
 o)o(cq)o(o 
 
 G. B. U. 
 
 Most elegant equipments. Modern and practical course of training-. 
 Complete facult.y of expert specialists. Absolutely thorough work in ail 
 departments. Largest attendance of any other similar institution in 
 Texas. Catalogue free. j p_ SMITH 
 
 President and Founder. 
 
F. J. F1N6K & 60, 
 
 217 Tremont St. 
 
 Printers, tOtCttlOtlOrS, Engravers, 
 and S^lank 5^ook SKakers. 
 
 AGENTS FOR 
 
 — ^' 
 
 ^ The Hartford Cypciaritcr, 
 
 THE BEST MADE. 
 
 /Ind Edison's Pbonocfraphs 
 
 a; 
 
 'Phone 472. 
 
 Galveston, Texas. 
 
A Cold Wave 
 
 •T • 
 
 IS comingf, 
 
 and is about due, 
 so you had better have plenty of good, clean coal 
 
 in your cellar and 
 be prepared. Old 
 Boreas usually a- 
 voids the domicile 
 that is heated by 
 our superior coal ; 
 it is his worst ene- 
 my. We will sell 
 you high grade coal at lower prices than you will pay 
 for inferior coal elsewhere. 
 
 THE McRAE COAL COMPANY, Galveston. 
 
 Office: 22nd an(fi|^^3jSd$0 
 O. J, MCRAE. 51 . 
 

 
 
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