Bought with the income of the
William C. Egleston Fund
192. £>

Being fifty years experience in the saddle as Cow
boy, Detective and New Mexico Ranger, on every
cow trail in the wooly old west Also the doings
of some "bad cowboys, such as "Billy the Kid",
Wess Harding and "Kid Curry". :: :: :: ::
By CHAS. A. SIRINGO
Author of "Fifteen Years on the Hurricane Deck
of a Spanish Pony" and "A Cowboy Detective".
SANTA FE, NEW MEXICO
19 19

COPYRIGHTED, 1919, BY:
CHAS. A. SIRINGO.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Cm4-2..4-85

^

THE AUTHOR AND HIS RUSSIAN WOLF HOUND "JUMBO"

Dedicated to :
My broad-gauge friend, Alois B. Eenehan, an
eminent lawyer of Santa Fe, New Mexico,
who is "a friend in need, as well as a friend
indeed. ' ' The Author.

PREFACE
This volume is to take the place of "A Texas
Cowboy," the copyright of which has expired.
Since its first publication, in 1885, nearly a mil
lion copies have been sold. In this, "A Lone Star
Cowboy," much cattle history is given which has
never before been published.
CHAS. A. SIRINGO, Santa Fe,
New Mexico.

A LONE STAR COWBOY
Being the recollections of a life-time spent in
the saddle as COWBOY, DETECTIVE, and
NEW MEXICO RANGER.
Giving the true history of the cattle business,
and the building up of the Great West by the
"Fool hoe-men," as the cowboys called the new
settlers squatting on the open cattle ranges.
Also the history of the noted Chisholm Cattle
Trail, from the Gulf coast of Texas, to Kansas ; as
well as the doings of some "Bad" cowboys, in
cluding "Billy the Kid," "Kid Curry," and
"Wess" Harding, the killer of thirty-one men.
By Chas. A. Siringo
Author of "A Texas Cowboy" and "A Cowboy
Detective. ' '

CHAPTER I.
MY FIRST COWBOY EXPERIENCE.
TWO YEARS IN YANKEE-LAND, AND THE
CITY OF NEW ORLEANS
The writer was born and brought up amidst
wild, long-horn cattle and mustangs in the ex
treme southern part of the Lone Star State.
I first saw the light of day, and had my first
warm meal on the seventh day of February, 1855,
in the county of Matagorda, Texas.
At the age of four I got my first book "larnin"
from a "Yankee" school-master by the name of
Hale. A year later war broke out between the
North and South, and my beloved schoolmaster
hiked north to join the Yankee army.
During the four years of bloody rebellion I saw
much fighting on land and water, along the gulf
coast, between the Federals and Confederates.
Also saw many dead and wounded soldiers.
During the war our food consisted of fish, oys
ters, corn-bread and sweet potatoes. Coffee was
made of parched corn and sweet potatoes.
When the cruel war was over, and I was eleven
years of age, in the spring of 1867, 1 became a full-
fledged Cowboy, wearing broad sombrero, high-

2 A LONE STAR COWBOY
heeled boots, Mexican spurs, and the dignity of a
full-grown man. I had "hired out" to run cattle
for a Mr. Faldien, at a wage of ten dollars per
month. During the season our work was mostly
around Lake Austin, and on Bay prairie, where
now stands the thriving little city of Bay City.
The country was literally covered with wild
mustangs, and long-horn cattle. We did nothing
but round up and brand mavericks from one to
lour years old, and I soon became handy with tlie
lasso, as these wild mavericks had to be lassoed,
thrown and branded with Mr. Faldien 's brand.
The un-branded cattle were public property, and
our object was to "Make hay while the sun
shined" by putting Mr. Faldien 's brand on as
many cattle as possible.
There were many other branding outfits in the
field, doing the same for themselves.
In 1868 my widowed mother married a "Yan
kee," and sold our home and cattle. The land
brought seventy-five cents an acre, and the cattle
one dollar a head. Then we boarded a Morgan
Steampship at Indianola, and started for Yankee-
dom by way of Galveston and New Orleans;
thence up the Mississippi River on a steamboat to
Saint Louis, Missouri, and by rail to Lebanon, St.
Clair County, Illinois, which I considered the
heart of Yankee-land.
Now the misery of a boy began. Having to
work out in the cold fields during the late winter

A LONE STAR COWBOY 3
months, only half clothed, at a wage of eight dol
lars a month, which I never got the benefit of, as
it went to buy whiskey for my drunken Yankee
step-father; — but thank the stars, during spring
he ' ' hit the road ' ' for parts unknown ; then I drew
the wages myself, as my Mother and only Sister
went to St. Louis, Missouri, to try their luck in a
strange city. That same Sister still lives in St.
Louis, having married a prosperous business man.
Four girls and one boy spring from that union,
and most of them have families of their own, and
are prosperous.
Mother and Sister had promised to write to me,
giving their city address, but for some reason they
failed to do so — hence a Texas long-horn Kid was
left alone among strangers, and in a strange land.
During the summer I quit my heart-breaking
job with Mr. Moore, and went to Lebanon to learn
the carpenter trade. I had bound myself to an old
skin-flint who was building a new dwelling for a
Mr. Sargent, in the edge of town. He made me
sign a contract that I would work for him three
years to learn the trade.
I worked one whole day, from sun-up to sun
down, turning a grindstone to grind a lot of rusty
tools. That night, by the light of the moon I
walked twelve miles east, and next morning hired
to a farmer with a heart, by the name of Jacobs,
for twelve dollars a month.

4 A LONE STAR COWBOY
During the harvest I made a half a hand bind
ing and shocking wheat.
Late in the fall, 1869, I quit my job and walked
to St. Louis, a distance of twenty-five miles, in
hopes of finding Mother and Sister.
Little did I dream of the difficulty in finding
two people in a city of nearly half a million souls.
No need to recite the hungry spells, and the
hard beds on platforms and dry-goods boxes for
two long weeks until I secured a job as bell-boy in
the swell Planters Hotel.
My wages were ten dollars a month, but I aver
aged several dollars a day from tips. Often a
crowd of gamblers playing for high stakes in a
room would give me a ten or twenty dollar bill to
buy a tray-load of drinks, telling me to keep the
change. The other dozen or more bell-boys did equally
well in the way of easy tips, and when off duty we
spent the money like drunken sailors.
One year later, in the fall of 1870, 1 had a rough
and tumble fight with one of the bell-hops while
on duty, and was slapped on the cheek by the chief
clerk, Cunningham. This slapping stirred up the
.anger in my system, and I threw up the soft job
of bell-boy.
With a few dollars in my pocket I started for
the levee to board a steamboat headed toward
Texas, but on the road to the levee I butted into a
gambling game, and lost every cent of my money.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 5
Late in the evening I stole my way onto the Bart
Able, which was ready to steam down the Missis
sippi river for New Orleans, and hid among the
freight sacks and boxes.
While loading freight from an old abandoned
steamboat, in a town in Arkansas, I fell over back
ward into an open hatchway, about thirty feet
deep and was fished out by the captain and crew
more dead than alive.
On waking up I found myself in a clean bed in
the captain's private room.
On reaching New Orleans I was able to walk but
couldn't bend my back, and the back of my head
had a lump on it the size of a cocoanut.
After eating a nice dinner on the Bart Able the
boat steamed back up the river for St. Louis,
leaving me in a strange city with not a cent in
my pocket.
After two days of hunger, and sleeping on cot
ton bales, I was picked up by a kind hearted man,
Wm. R. Myers, and taken to his lovely home, 18
Derbigny Street.
Mr. Myers was connected with the Couens Red
River line of steamboats, and was wealthy in his
own name.
After ringing the bell at the Myers fine home,
Mrs. Mary P. Myers opened the door. She was
evidently shocked at the sight of a dirty faced
urchin at her husband's side. Mr. Myers intro
duced me as a young Texas "Hoosier" whom he

6 A LONE STAR COWBOY
had brought home to fill up, as I was half starved.
The five o'clock dinner was ready to be served
by the two negro servants, but bless you, I had to
endure the agony of having the meal delayed until
I could take a bath in the neat bath-room adjoin
ing the dining room.
Don't wonder if my stomach was puffed out like
a "Pizened pup" when dinner was over. It was,
and the world appeared like one round ball of •
glory and contentment.
That night in the elegant parlor I was made tell
my pedigree, and past life. The result was, this
old couple who had no children, offered to adopt
me as their own son, and to give me a fine educa
tion, with a start in business when twenty-one
years of age.
Of course I consented, as the rosy picture of
more juicy porterhouse steaks, broiled on a char
coal fire, loomed up in the future.
The next forenoon Mrs. Myers took me down to
one of the swell clothing establishments and fitted
me out like a young prince. I objected to the
peaked toed gaiters and asked for a pair of star-
top, high heeled boots, but the good lady thought
boots would make me look too much like a "hoos
ier. ' '
Seeing that she was lavish with her money, I
asked her to buy me a violin, so that I could learn
to play "The old blind mule came trotting
through the wilderness," and other favorite Tex-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 7
as songs. This she agreed to do, and later carried
out her promise.
After the crick in my back and the lump on my
head had "vamoosed," in other words "flew the
coop," and the rare beef-steaks had painted my
cheeks with a rosy tint, I was sent to Fisk's Pub
lic School to start my education.
One week in school and I had a rough and tum
ble fight with another boy in the school room. In
making my 'get-away' for the door, I ran over the
good looking young teacher, Miss Finley, who was
trying to prevent my escape. The poor girl fell
flat on her back, and I stepped on her silk, pink-
waist as I went over her for the door. No doubt
she thought it was a Texas stampede.
A few days later I was sent to a pay school.
This old professor only had a few select scholars,
all boys, to whom he taught the German, French
and English languages.
In the course of a few months I had to shake the
dust of New Orleans from my peaked toed gaitors
on account of stabbing one of the scholars with a ^
pocket-knife. He was much larger than myself
and had my face bloody.
Night found me wrapped in slumber among the
cotton bales on board the Mollie Able, en-route to
St. Louis. My slumber was not a peaceful one, as
I awoke often to worry over my future, should
the boy Steamcamp, die. I had seen the blood
gushing from his wound as he ran screaming over

8 A LONE STAR COWBOY
the grassy lawn, where we had been playing dur
ing the afternoon recess.
On reaching St. Louis, after eight days and
nights of hiding in the cotton bales, and stealing
food after the deck hands finished their meals, I
spent a day trying to find Mother and Sister.
Then I crossed the river on a ferry boat and walk
ed to Lebanon, Illinois, thence to the Jacobs farm,
where I was received with open arms, and put to
work in the harvest field, where I had worked the
season previous.
When the harvest was over I longed for the
easy life under Mrs. Myers' wing. Therefore I
drew my wages and struck out afoot for St. Louis.
I arrived there in time to board the Robert E. Lee,
which was starting down the river on her great
race with the Natchez. Thousands of dollars were
bet on which one would reach New Orleans first.
I slipped onto the steamer and kept hidden
most of the time when the captain, or the other of
ficers were in sight. The cook kindly gave me
food. We landed in New Orleans ahead of the Nat
chez, and there was great rejoicing aboard. The
citizens of New Orleans presented the captain with
a pair of gold antlers to place on the bow of his
swift steamer.
On the same evening of our arrival I hunted up
Babe Fisher, a yellow negro whom I knew could
be trusted, and who afterwards became a noted

A LONE STAR COWBOY 9
outlaw, to find out if the victim of my fight had
recovered. I was informed that it required the
skill of two prominent doctors to save young
Steamcamp's life, but he was now about as sound
as ever.
This encouraged me to ring the door bell at the
Myers mansion. My dirty face was showered with
kisses by Mrs. Myers, who was happy over my re
turn. When Mr. Myers returned at night from his
office, he too, gave me a hearty welcome.
Mr. Myers made three visits to the German pro
fessor before he could induce him to take me back
as one of his pupils.
Now I took up my same old studies, German,
B^rench and English. I was a hero among the
scholars for winning the fight with young Steam-
camp, who had been the bully of the school. He
had never returned to take up his studies after re
covering. Everything went on lovely, and I continued to
enjoy the juicy beef-steaks which were served ev
ery evening, fresh from the charcoal furnace on
the brick paved back yard.
In the latter part of November a big fire broke
out near our school, and the street was lined with
people going to the fire. I asked the professor if
I could go and see the blaze. In a gruff voice he
answered "No!" I then yelled "Goodbye,"
and broke for the door.
It was night when the excitement of the fire

10 A LONE STAR COWBOY
died down. I then walked to the levee, and after
a wait of an hour or more I slipped onto the St.
Mary, a Morgan steamship bound for Indianola,
Texas. I kept hid out all night, and next morning was
put to work scouring brass railings to pay for my
food and passage.
After a stormy trip we arrived in Indianola,
Texas, one morning about sun-up.
On viewing the old warf, from which I stepped
onto the gang-plank of the Crescent City about
two years previous, I shouted deep down in my
heart : Back at last to the dear Lone Star State ;
the natural home of the cowboy and long-horn
steer. The winter was spent working for H. Selickson,
in his beef factory, where cattle were butchered
for their hides and tallow ; my wages being fifteen
dollars a month.
Early in the spring of 1871 I visited among m.'
friends in the town of Matagorda, and on the pen
insula, the place of my birth.
About April the first I hired out to Tom Nie,
now known as "the Onion king" of Lerado, Texas.
He was making up a crew of cowboys to work on
the Rancho Grande, on Trespalacios Creek,
about twenty- five miles northwest from the town
of Matagorda.
We went by sail-boat to Palacios Point, where
the Rancho Grande Company had an outside

A LONE STAR COWBOY 11
camp. There we joined other cowboys, making a
crew of twenty, and from there went overland to
the Rancho Grande headquarters
We found the headquarter ranch a busy place,
getting ready for the spring work. Here there
were a company store, a church house, and the
nice home residence of Jonathan Pierce.
The two Pierce Brothers, Abel ("Shanghai")
and Jonathan, were in partnership with Mr. Sam
Allen, and a Mr. Pool, of eastern Texas. They
owned this Rancho Grande, and the more than
100,000 long-horn cattle, scattered over hundreds
of miles of grassy range.
There were about 50 cowboys at the headquar
ter ranch; a few Mexicans, and a few negroes
among them. We had unlimited credit at the com
pany store. My credit was stretched almost to the
breaking point, in purchasing a cowboy outfit,
such as saddle, bridle, spurs, pistol, bowie-knife,
bedding, sombrero, silk handkerchiefs, slicker
(rain coat), high-heel boots, etc.
"Shanghai" Pierce and his crew of cowboys
had just arrived from the Rio Grande River with
300 wild Mexican ponies for the spring work. He
had paid two dollars and fifty cents a head for
them. They were what was termed "wet" ponies
on the Rio Grande. In other words Avere stolen
stock; hence the low prices.
On the Rio Grande river which separates Texas
from Old Mexico, there were many traders in

12 A LONE STAR COWBOY
"wet" ponies. A deal was made for any num
ber of geldings put into the river on the Mexican
side. All those which swam over and landed on
the Texas side were paid for by the purchaser. Of
course they were still dripping with river water
when they climbed up the sandy bank on the
eastern shore of the river. Hence the term "wet"
ponies. They had been stolen by organized Mex
ican thieves from the large bands of Mexican pon
ies in Old Mexico. These wild ponies were di
vided among the three crews which started on the
Spring work in different directions.
Some of the boys were thrown from their buck
ing bronchos, but not so with the writer. I always
managed to stick on, even though the pony bucked
into the timber. Our camps were generally pitched
^at the edge of a belt of timber; hence there was
great danger of being killed or crippled if the wild
pony went into the timber, instead of heading for
the open prairie.
We always started the day's work at the first
peep of day, and never thought of eating a noon
meal. Often it would be pitch dark when we ar
rived in camp, where a warm camp-fire meal
awaited us. These meals were made up of meat
from a fat heifer calf, with corn bread, molasses,
and black coffee. The negro cook, who drove the
mess-wagon, generally had two kinds of meat, the
calf ribs broiled before the camp fire, and a large

A LONE STAR COWBOY 13
dutch oven full of loin, sweet-breads, and heart,
mixed with flour gravy.
For breakfast we often had pork and beans
which had been simmering over hot coals all night.
In those days knives and forks were seldom used
in the cow-camps; each cowboy used his bowie-
knife or pocket knife to eat with. Nor were there
tents to sleep in when it rained. The boys slept on
the ground, covered with a canvas or wagon-sheet
to turn the water.
The crew of which I was a member consisted of
fifteen men and boys. We started work on the
Navidad River, in Jackson County, gathering a
herd of eleven hundred head of steers for Mr.
Black, who had brought his crew of green Kansas
boys, -overland from Wichita, Kansas.
In gathering this herd of old "Mossy horn"
steers, from four to twenty years old, I had a new
experience. They were mostly wild timber cattle,
which only graze out in the edges of the prairies
at night, going back to the timber after daylight.
We had to make raids on them before sun-up, by
which time they would be back in the brushy tim
ber, where it was impossible to round them up, or
rope and tie down the unruly ones.
It is hard to believe, but nevertheless true, that
some of these old steers had a fine coating of moss
on their long horns. The trees were all covered
with moss ; some more than a foot long.
By the time we got this herd "put up," and

14 A LONE STAR COWBOY"
turned over to Mr. Black and his crew, we were a
worn out bunch of cowboys. Every steer had to
be roped and thrown to be road-branded, and we
had to stand guard every night, half the crew the
first part of the night and the balance until day
light. During rain and thunder storms every cow
boy had to be in the saddle all night, singing and
whistling to the restless cattle to avoid a stam
pede. At such times there was no sleep for any
one but the cook.
Stampedes were frequent on stormy nights, and
we had to stay with the running herd until the
steers became exhausted.
It was said that Mr. Black and his crew lost the
whole herd, through stampedes and mixing up
with the wild range cattle, before reaching Red
River, on the line of the Indian ' ' Nation, ' ' now
Oklahoma. Later "Shanghai" Pierce reported
meeting Mr. Black in Wichita, Kansas, work
ing at his trade of blacksmithing. He said that his
first experience with long-horns had left him a
financial wreck.
The balance of the season, up to Christmas, we
put in our time branding mavericks and calves.
The mavericks were not as plentiful, or as old, as
when I took my first lessons as a cowboy in 1867.
Among the timber cattle we found some unbrand-
ed bulls and cows, four and five years old, but on
the prairies they ranged from one to two years of

A LONE STAR COWBOY 15
age, being calves which escaped the branding iron
the previous seasons.
During this year of 1871 the Rancho Grande
company branded 25,000 calves and mavericks.
I finally wrote to Mr. and Mrs. Myers in New
Orleans telling them that I had attained the desire
of my life by becoming a full-fledged cowboy, in
the Lone Star State. In a few weeks an answer
was received to my letter. In it was a twenty dol
lar bill, and a pass on the Morgan steamshig Line
from Indianola to New Orleans, the money being
for my expenses en route.
In the letter they begged me to return and fin
ish my education. I wrote them that the life of
a cowboy was good enough for me, and offered to
return the money and the pass. In a later letter
Mr. Myers wrote me to tear up the pass, and to
buy a suit of clothes with the twenty dollar " Wil
liam. ' ' Many years later this old couple died, and
Avere buried in the town of Pocatello, Idaho. Mr.
Myers had lost his wealth in a bad speculation
with a thieving partner in Florida. Before old
age put them under the sod, I had the pleasure of
repaying them for all the money spent on me when
a wild, reckless lad.
Mrs. Myers had a sister, Mrs. Henry Beecraft,
living in Pocatello, Idaho, and she saw that they
had a decent burial.
Such is life. I often think of what a narrow

16 A LONE STAR COWBOY
V escape I had of becoming an educated business
man, had I remained in New Orleans.
After the branding season was over I joined
"Bob" Partain's crew, and we established winter
quarters at the camp house three miles from Pal-
acios Point. Our work was shipping steers to NeAv
Orleans and Cuba^ Twice a week a Morgan steam
ship would tie up at the wharf at Palacios Point,
and it was our duty to put about five hundred cat
tle aboard.
Gathering crews would deliver the steers to our
outfit, and we had to night-herd them until ready
to ship.
During cold northers and sleet storms we had
a tough job night-herding. Often "Shanghai"
Pierce would be present to help us sing to the cat
tle during bad storms. "Shanghai" felt at home
on the back of a pony. Quite different from his
brother Jonathan, who was never so happy as
Avhen plowing with a yoke of oxen. In all the years
that I knew Jonathan I never saw him in a saddle.
It often happened that we wouldn't get the
steers aboard the ship until late at night. Then we
Avould fill up on George Burkhart's cowboy's de
light, such as peaches and brandy, cherries and
brandy, and Hostetter's bitters.
No other kind of liquors were kept in the store.
On leaving the little village Ave would shoot off
our pistols, and make a mad race of three miles
for the camp house. Often several saddled ponies

A LONE STAB. COWBOY 17
would be waiting for the morning feed of corn at
the corral, their drunken riders having fallen by
the wayside in the race for camp.
When spring came I was assigned with a new
crew in charge of Mr. Wiley Kuykendall, who had
married a sister of the Pierce brothers.
It is said that strong coffee and tobacco will kill
a man. If this were true Mr. Kuykendall would
have been in his grave long ago instead of leading
a happy, retired life in Victoria, Texas, at the
present time.
"Mr. Wiley," as we cowboys affectionately
called him, spent a very little of his time in bed.
He was fond of black coffee, steaming hot from
the camp coffee pot, and only when asleep did the
smoke from his black pipe cease. He was up with
the cook every morning, so as to get his cup of
hot coffee.
When time to wake the sleeping cowboys for
breakfast, "Mr. Wiley" would go out to where
their beds were spread on the ground, and shout :
' ' Come boys, come, get up and hear the little birds
singing their sweet praises to God Almighty ; D — n
your souls, get up!" The first part of the sent
ence was in a sweet, low, tender voice, while the
last part was in a loud, angry tone. This was an
every morning occurence while I worked with
him. A few years previous to the writing of this, I
visited with Mr. and Mrs. Kuykendall at a swell

18 A LONE STAR COWBOY
hotel in Hot Springs, Arkansas, and found "Mr.
Wiley" a healthy old man, still wearing his cow
boy hat, boots and red, silk sash to keep his pants
up, in lieu of suspenders. Of course he attracted
much attention among the hotel guests, .but he
didn't seem to realize it. He had become wealthy
through the rise in the value of long-horn cattle
and Texas soil.
While in Hot Springs, Mr. Kuykendall "harked
back" to his barefoot days, when, as an orphan
boy, in 1866, the year after the rebellion, he helped
drive one of the first herds of long-horn steers
"up the trail" to Kansas and Missouri.
The cattle were owned by a Mr. Herindon, on
the Colorado River, in Matagorda County. They
started early in the spring, driving the herd in a
haphazard way toward the north, as there was no
trail to follow. .
They crossed the south-east corner of Kansas,
at Baxter Springs, and entered Missouri, where
the steers were sold. Then Mr. Kuykendall says
he and other cowboys started for home, overland,
with the ramutha, (saddle ponies ) and pack out
fit, on which the grub and bedding were carried.
In Missouri one of the pack mules was loaded
down with apples, on which the men partially sub
sisted until reaching home just before Christmas.
I shall always hold the name of "Mr. Wiley" in
kind remembrance, as in the summer of 1872 he
gave me my first start in the cattle business, by

A LONE STAR COWBOY 19
allowing me to put my own brand, Avhich had not
yet been recorded, as the law required, on a few
mavericks. This made me bold, so that thereafter
I always carried a rod of iron tied to my saddle,
as a branding iron, to be made red hot in a brush,
or "cow-chip" fire, when riding over the prairie
alone, and a fine looking maverick showed up. The
short piece of iron being bent at one end and used
to "run" my brand on the animal's hip.
In the late summer our crew was sent to La
vaca and Calhoun Counties to gather steers and
ship them on board Morgan steamships, in
Indianola, for the New Orleans market.
Later we were sent to Wharton and Colorado
Counties to gather steers to be shipped by rail
from Richmond and Houston.
It was while driving a herd of these fat steers
to Richmond that I was bitten on the foot by a
rattlesnake, which proves that even the bite of a
snake can't kill a tough cowboy.
We had just swam the herd across a swollen
stream, which caused me to get wet to the skin.
While I was guarding the herd, part of the crew
having gone to dinner, I disrobed to let my clothes
dry in the hot sun. While standing barefooted in
the tall grass the snake put two gashes across one
foot. This caused the death of his snakeship, as I was
angry and beat him to a pulp. My foot and leg
became badly swollen, so that I couldn't wear my

20 A LONE STAR COWBOY
left boot for a week ; still I never missed doing nay
full share of the work, which included standing
guard OATer the herd half of each night.
During the fall "Mr. Wiley" severed his con
nection with the outfit, and soon after I did like
wise. I had been Avorking for the Rancho Grande
Company nearly tAvo years, without a settlement,
or knowing how my account in the company store
stood. My AA'ages were twenty dollars a month,
and whenever I needed cash, all I had to do was
ask old "Hunkey Dorey" Brown, who was in
charge of the store, for the amount, and he would
charge it on my account. I was a surprised and
'disappointed boy when I found that I only had
seventy-five cents to my credit. This I "blowed
in" for a bottle of peaches and brandy, and some
stick candy, before leaving the store to ride away
on my own pony. CHAPTER II
SHOT AND WOUNDED IN THE KNEE
A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE IN A GREAT
STORM ON THE GULF COAST OF TEXAS
At the time Mr. Wiley Kuykendall quit the
firm, the Pierce Brothers had sold their cattle in
terests to Allen and Pool for the snug sum of
$110,000, which was a fortune in those days.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 21
This shows what men with Yankee blood in their
veins could do with long^horn cattle.
As a young man, before the Rebellion, "Shan
ghai" Pierce had drifted from the state where
they make wooden nutmegs and went to Avork for
W. B. Grimes, on Tres Palacios Creek, splitting
live-oak rails at a wage of one dollar a day.
In later years Mr. Pierce used to point out this
old rail fence, which he put up, as the folly of his
youth. Late in the fall the Rancho Grande headquar
ters was established at Mr. John Moore's ranch
home, at the mouth of Tres Palacios Creek — Mr.
Moore being appointed general manager.
John Moore had an only son, Bennie, Avho was
put in charge of a crew to ride over the prairies to
cut off the horns of old stray bulls — that is an
imals Avhich had no recorded owner, as they had
drifted Avith the hordes of other cattle during
northers and sleet storms from the north, during
the four years of bloody Rebellion, when the men
and boys of middle and northern Texas were too
busy fighting the Yankees to look after their cat
tle. During the late fall much of my time was spent
with Bennie Moore's crew helping rope and throw
these wild bulls. It was fun for me, and I asked
no pay.
Bennie Moore was champion bull roper of the
cjew. He had two ponies gored to death by angry

22 A LONE STAR COWBOY
bulls, tied to one end of a thirty foot rope, the
other end being securely fastened to the saddle
horn, which Avas the custom in those days.
These lassos were made of either hard twisted
grass, rawhide, or hair from a horses mane.
The cowboy who was first to throw his rope
over the bulls head would run around him while
he was on the run, and when his front legs were
over the rope Mr. Bull Avould flop over, then one
of the boys would pitch his rope onto one or both
hind legs and stretch him out. Now a man with a
sharp axe would slash off half the horn which
rested on the ground. Then he was turned over
and the other horn cut off. Now the bloody old
brute was turned loose to ponder over the cruel
ties of man.
The object of cutting off the horns was to pre
vent goring each other while on board of a ship.
Soon after, poor Bennie Moore was struck and
killed by lightning, leaving two young sons, who
are now prosperous cattlemen at Uvalde, Texas.
Previous to selling out to Allen and Pool
"Shanghai" Pierce had made a contract with the
Cuban Government to furnish them 100,000 head
of bulls to feed their soldier boys.
Before quitting the Rancho Grande Company I
had helped put some of those bulls on board the
Morgan Steamships. For some reason only part of
this great number of bulls were ever shipped. No

A LONE STAR COWBOYr 23
doubt the soldiers rebelled, and swore off eating
bull-beef. For many years afterwards these old bulls with
both horns chopped off could be seen leading a
contented life on the grassy prairies of Colorado,
Wharton, Jackson and Matagorda Counties.
During the winter of 1873 and 74 some of these
old bulls put easy money into my own pocket.
Their hides were worth five dollars each, when
dried. As they were strays I considered it no sin
to kill and skin them. I would ride up close to the
bull and plant a bullet from my powder and ball,
Colts pistol behind his ear.
During the winter of 1872-73 I made my home
at the Horace Yeamans ranch on Cashes Creek.
Old man Yeamans had a son, Horace, about my
own age, and we went into partnership skinning
"dead" cattle. They died that winter by the tens
of thousands all over this coast country, bordering/
the bay of Matagorda. The country had become
overstocked through the natural increase, and the
hordes which drifted from the north during cold
northers and sleet storms. Often a boggy slough
would be completely bridged over with dead and
dying cattle, so that the ones following could walk
over dry-footed.
Horace and I did most of our skinning that win-v
ter at Hamitlon's Point where the little city of
Palacios now stands. Here the famished brutes

24 A LONE STAR COWBOY
could go no further south on account of Tres Pal
acios Bay — hence they died by the thousands.
We made "Big" money all winter. As a side
issue I had put my brand on a lot of mavericks
during spare times.
In the spring my brand was sold to George
Hamilton, he paying me two dollars a head for all
cattle in my brand, gathered by the different
branding outfits during the coming seasons. The
last money he paid me was in 1879 — Several years
after making the trade.
Now I had a new brand recorded in Matagorda,
the County Seat, to put on other mavericks. I had
the foresight to select a stray brand, which I knew
was not on record — hence had no owner. I had
seen grown cattle in this brand. The chances were
'that this brand belonged in one of the northern
Counties of the state.
The first money received from this new brand
Avas for a twelve or fifteen year old steer which I
found in W. B. Grimes' slaughter pen ready to be
butchered for his hide and tallow.
Never shall I forget the look on old man Grimes '
face when I demanded ten dollars for this steer.
He couldn't understand how a smooth face boy
could have the gall to claim such an old animal, on
the strength of a new brand only on record a few
months. Showing him the recorders certificate
convinced this shrewd old Yankee that I was the

A LONE STAR COWBOY 25
rightful owner. He paid me for a few others
later. In this hide and tallow factory Mr. Grimes
slaughtered from one to three hundred head of
cattle a day — many of them being strays, which
didn't cost him a cent.
During the late fall Horace Yeamans and I
made a camping trip along the Bay shore to lay in
a supply of bacon for the winter. The marshes
AATere full of wild hogs. We only killed fat sows.
When the skinning season was over, in the
spring, I hired out at twenty dollars, a month to
Mr. W. B. Grimes. My job — along with other
cowboys — was to guard the slaughter-pen herd
until ready to be butchered. Mr. Nolan Keller
Avas in charge of the gathering crew. About twice
a week he would arrive with- several hundred head
of steers and turn them over to our crew.
In the late spring Mr. Grimes gave me charge
of his range stock of horses. I had to attend the
horse roundups in Matagorda, Wharton, Colorado
and Jackson counties to brand up the W. B. G.
colts. When the branding season was over I took a
contract to break some wild ponies at two dollars
and fifty cents a head.
Some days I would ride as high as five head of
these wild ponies, which had never been saddled
before. Most qf them were vicious buckers. They
had to be roped and thrown in order to get the

26 A LONE STAR COWBOY
hackamore — a rope halter — and the leather blind
onto them.
When the animal was allowed to get up on his
feet, his eyes being blinded, he always stood quite
still until the saddle was fastened on his back.
Then the blind was raised in order to allow him to
wear himself out bucking around the corral with
the saddle.
Now he was put outside the corral, and the
leather blind lowered back over his eyes. Then
Avhen seated in the saddle the blind was raised,
and the bucking and running began. It often re
quired two hours time to get him docile and back to
the corral. Then he was turned loose among the
others in the corral, and a fresh one saddled.
I had no help in this work. In those days a
cowboy considered it a disgrace to have help in
* saddling and managing a wild broncho.
Now, in these later years, a broncho-buster
nearly always has a helper to get the saddle on the
broncho 's back and to guide him over the prairie.
After I had ridden each of these ponies about a
dozen times — the last few times with a bridle-bit
in his mouth — they were turned over to the owner
as "broke."
The winter was spent with Horace Yeamans in
the skinning of "dead" cattle, and the branding
of mavericks during spare times.
By this time I was old enough to begin to feel
my oats — as a horsetrainer would say about his

A LONE STAR COWBOY 27
racer. Therefore I attended many dances during
the winter — some of them twenty-five miles dis
tant from the Yeaman's ranch.
One day when ready to ride away to one of
these distant dances, in company with Miss Sallie
Yeamans, I thought seriously of heaven and hell
while being dragged over the prairie by a wild
broncho. The proper way to mount a skittish horse is to
pull his head around towards you with the left
arm and grab the saddle-horn with the right hand,
then put your foot in the stirrup.
This I failed to do in mounting Satan — a large
sorrel broncho.
My number five high-heel, star-top, boot was
shoved into the stirrup before grabbing the sad
dle-horn. The result was Satan went to bucking
and I fell over backwards with my left foot hung
in the stirrup.
The long hackmore rope, fastened to Satan's
nose, had been held coiled up in my left hand. It
fell to the ground, and while being dragged on my
back I could see a negro cowboy, who was present,
running his best, afoot, trying to catch the end of
the rope. At one time he was within a few feet
of the dragging rope. Then I felt hopeful. But
when I saw the end of the rope crawling further
away from the negro, I lost hope, and began to
wonder what kind of a place hell was, and whether
I would be treated with kindness.

28 A LONE STAR COWBOY
After a few hundred yards of dragging, with
Satan's hind hoofs flying over my up- turned face,
I began to kick frantically with my left leg. This
brought the foot out of the stirrup.
As the end of the hackamore rope went past me
I grabbed it and hung on like grim death to a dead
nigger. Now I was dragging on my stomach,
Avhich wore the bosom of my white "Stake and
rider, Sunday-go-to-meetin " shirt into a frazzle.
I finally had to turn the rope loose.
This was certainly a case of being dragged to
hell by Satan, had my foot not come out of the
stirrup. Satan was found with a wild bunch of ponies a
month or two later, still wearing the saddle on his
back. I finally sold him cheap to a drunken Irishman
by the name of Martin. He and Dan — another
gentleman from the "ould sod" — were building
dirt dams to hold stock water for the Rancho
Grande Company. I had Satan pretty tame when
sold to Martin. But next morning Martin was
quite sober and concluded to give his pony a little
training. Their camp was located in the timber
near a narrow road.
Martin mounted the pony and told Dan to go a
short distance up the road and hide behind a pile
of brush, then when he came galloping by, to sud
denly spring out of the brush. He said he wanted

A LONE STAR COWBOY 29
to get the pony trained to not scare at strange ob
jects. When Dan picked Martin up with a skinned face
and body he swore at Dan for scaring the pony
too hard. Said he ought to have sprung out of
the brush easy. This was Martin's last ride on
Satin — as he joined a wild bunch away from the
haunts of dam-builders.
Early in the coming spring I hired out to Tom
Merril (who was later murdered, as was also his
young wife, by renegade Mexicans in Tom Green
County, Texas), at thirty-five dollars a month, to
be one of his cowboys "up the Chisholm Trail" to
Kansas. We gathered and road-branded the herd of old
"mossy-horn" steers, eleven hundred head, on the
Navidad River in Jackson County.
These steers Avere purchased from Leandro and
Lafe Ward by the Mackelroy Brothers, who had
hired Mr. Merrill to boss the herd "up the Chis
holm Trail."
Before reaching Austin, the Capital City of
Texas, I rebelled on account of having to break
wild ponies for other cowboys who Avere poor
riders. Henry Coats — now a prosperous resident of
Jackson County — and I had to do all the broncho-
busting. Later Henry Coats also rebelled and quit the
outfit.

30 A LONE STAR COWBOY
On reaching my stamping ground in Matagorda
County I worked for "Daddy" Grimes a while,
then pulled off many other stunts, too numerous
to mention.
During the coming winter I established a camp
out in the open, at the head of Cashes Creek, and
put in my time skinning ' ' dead ' ' cattle and brand
ing mavericks.
The old brand which I had cfci record had been
sold, along with all cattle wearing it. Hence
I recorded a new brand, T5 connected, to put on
the new crop of mavericks.
Later this brand, and the cattle were sold to
Fred Cornelius, now a wealthy cattleman of Mid-
field, Texas, a town which sprang up on the
ground where much of my mavericking was done.
During all these more than forty years, up to
date, Fred Cornelius has used this T5 brand on his
thousands of cattle, which he has owned since buy
ing the brand in 187;3
When spring came I was put out of active busi
ness. I was seated on the ground by the camp-
fire smoking, late in the evening, when Sam
Grant, a ' ' nigger ' ' killer, rode up and dismounted.
Picking up my pistol, which lay on the opposite
side of the fire from where I was sitting, he ex
amined it, then threw it away, at the same time
pulling his pistol, with the remark, "Why don't
you have a good one like mine!" He then fired
at my heart.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 31
My hands were clamped around my left leg — the
knee being on a level with my heart. The large
dragoon bullet struck the knee going through and
lodging near the skin on the opposite side.
He was raising the pistol as though to fire
again when a negro cowboy, Lige, galloped into
camp out of the heavy timber and brush. This,
no doubt, saA'ed my life.
Grant swore to Lige, who had dismounted, and
was holding me up with one hand, that his pistol
Avent off accidentally.
Then Grant galloped away saying he would
send a doctor from Demings Bridge Post-office,
the old Rancho Grande Headquarters.
The doctor came late at night and cut the bullet
out. Lige assisted me to the Yeamans ranch
a few miles below on the creek.
It was thirty-five years later when I learned
from my friend Nolan Keller, the true secret of
this attempted assassination.
A certain wealthy cattleman, who is now dead,
hired Sam Grant to kill me, on account of my bold
ness in branding mavericks, and killing stray bulls
for their hides.
At that time Nolan Keller was foreman for this
cattle-man and learned the secret of his deal with
Grant. Mr. Keller is now a respected citizen of Pal
acios, Texas.
When able to ride, and walk with a crutch, I

32 A LONE STAR COWBOY
made my home with Mr. John Pierce at the old
Rancho Grande headquarters. All I had to do was
assist little Johnny Pierce — now a wealthy banker
of Palacios, Texas, — and "Shanghai" Pierce's
little daughter, Mamie, to and from the school
house, two miles distant.
It Aras my duty to care for their ponies and to
see that the youngsters were not hurt. At the
same time I Avas getting some book learning, by
attending school myself. I found it a pleasant
home at the Pierce residence. Mrs. Nanny Pierce
and her old mother, Mrs. Lacy, were like mothers
to me.
The old lady, Mrs. Lacy, used to "hark back,"
and tell me of my Grand-parents, the Whites, who
in 1852, bought a tract of land from the Lacys, on
Tres Palacios Creek.
She told of Iioav the Whites built a nice farm
house Avith the first glass windows ever seen in
that part of the state. They had brought the glass
from Ireland with them.
In the family there were three husky' boys, and
two girls — my mother being one of the girls.
The boys built a sod fence around their field —
the outlines of which can still be traced.
Mrs. Lacy told of how the great storm of 1854
scattered the White residence over the prairie,
leaving pieces of window glass on its path.
This calamity broke the old couple's hearts, and
they soon after died in the log house built after

A LONE STAR COWBOY 33
the storm. Their bodies were laid to rest at the
foot of an old live-oak tree, by the Lacy family
and other neighbors.
A few days after starting to school the red
headed schoolmaster, Mr. Carson, concluded to
whip me, so as to convince the other scholars that
he wore men's size pants, but when he started in
I pulled a knife and threated to carve him into
mince-meat if he didn't go back and sit down,
Avhich he did.
I remained until school was dismissed, so as to
take the Pierce children home. Next morning I
saddled my pony, bade the Pierces goodby, and
headed east with my crutch tied to the saddle.
At the Sam Allen ranch on Simms Bayou I laid
over a few days to rest. Mr. Sam Allen, for whom
I had worked when he was in partnership with the
Pierce brothers, treated me royally. He was a fine
old man, but at meals he wouldn't allow his cow
boys to cut bread from the loaf. He said it was
bad luck. It had to be broken.
I often wonder if his son, who has stepped into
the old man's boots since his death, and who is at
this Avriting, a wealthy resident of Houston, still
keeps up the superstition.
While visiting my aunt Mary McClain, of Hous
ton, and Uncle Nicholas White, of Galveston, I
had the pleasure of shaking hands with the Con
federate President, Jeff DaAds. While attending
the first State Fair ever held in Texas, at Hous-

34 A LONE STAR COWBOY
ton, Uncle "Nick," who was an old confederate
soldier, introduced me to Mr. Davis.
On leaving Galveston Uncle "Nick" slipped
some "green-back" money into my pocket,
and presented me with the old Spencer repeating
rifle which he had carried through the civil war;
he said it had put many Yankees to sleep. Of
course I was proud of the gift, as cartridge re
peating rifles were scarce, and hard to obtain in
those days.
Another stop at the Sam Allen ranch, and then
I hired out to Joe Davis, who had a contract fur
nishing beef to the building crews on the Gulf,
Colorado, and Santa Fe railroad at Virginia
Point, near Galveston.
Early in the fall I landed back at Demings
Bridge post-office, and learned that Mother was
waiting for me at the Morris ranch at Hamiltons
Point. On getting my letter in St. Louis, Missouri, tell
ing of my wound, she hurried to me, but arrived
only a few days after I had departed for parts un
known to anyone, hence she had a long and anx
ious wait.
It was September Avhen I found Mother sick in
bed at the Morris home.
As Mr. Morris, and his son Tom, were going
to Indianola in their schooner, Mother and I
scraped together all the cash we had and sent after
lumber, etc., to build a home. But this monev

A LONE STAR COWBOY 35
Avent to feed the fishes in Matagorda Bay, as the
great storm of 1875, which washed Indianola off
the face of the earth, scattered the Morris schoon
er, and everything on board, to the four winds of
heaven. Morris and his son saved themselves by
swimming. This same storm cured Mother of her sickness.
About ten o'clock at night, when the seventy-five
mile wind took the roof off the Morris house, let
ting in the flood of rain, I picked Mother up out
of her sick bed and jumped into the foaming
water, which was more than waist deep.
Through my advice Mrs. Morris and her two lit
tle girls and two sons followed suit. It required
all my strength to hang onto Mother and to keep
the Morris family from drowning. Once they be
came tangled up in a bunch and were on top of
Jimmie, the oldest boy, who was under the water.
The wind was from the west, blowing us out
into Tres Palacios bay — two miles wide.
Knowing that there was an osage hedge of large
trees a few hundred yards to the westward, I de
cided to face the wind and tide to reach that haven
of safety. Hence my little crew were drilled to
keep only their heads above water and their feet
in the mud — leaning their bodies towards the
wind. All except Mother, who was as limber as a dish-
rag, heeded my advise.
Inch by inch we crept towards the hedge. It re-

36 A LONE STAR COWBOY
quired nearly an hour's struggle to reach it. Then
we were saved.
When daylight came the only living creature,
outside of ourselves, in sight, was a bay broncho
which Jimmie and I had caught from a wild bunch
the eArening before. He was tied at the end of a
long rope fastened to a strong stake driven into
the ground. He had been floundering in water
almost OATer his back during the night, but now it
was only knee deep — as the tide was going down.
By looking across the bay we could see the shore
piled high with rubbish and dead stock.
When the sun peeped over the eastern horizon
AAre began to think of breakfast. The nearest ranch
Avas the Yeamans home, five miles to the north
ward. Jimmie, Avho was younger than myself, and I
decided to draw straws to see who should ride the
wild broncho bare-back to the Yeamans ranch
after a Avagon and grub. Jimmie drew the unlucky
straw. We used- a shirt to make a blind for the broncho.
When Jimmie was seated on his bare back, with
the hackamore reins in his hands, I raised the
blind and said "go." We had made a hackamore
out of the stake rope that the broncho was tied
with. In spite of the hard bucking, Jimmie stuck on
his back, and finally got him headed north in a
run.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 37
It Avas noon Avhen the wagon and grub arrived.
Strange to relate, this ducking cured Mother
and she forgot about being sick.
She lived to be eighty-six years of age and died
a peaceful death in the Sister's Sanitarium in
New Mexico's Capital City, Santa Fe.
With almost her last breath she begged me to
make my peace with God, while the making was
good. Five years have passed since that dear old
mother was laid away in Rosario Cemetery.
I have been too busy to heed her last advice. Be
ing a just God, I feel that He will overlook my
neglect. If not, I will have to take my medicine,
with Satan holding the spoon.
CHAPTER III.
A TRIP UP THE CHISHOLM TRAIL TO KAN
SAS. A LONELY RIDE THROUGH
THE INDIAN NATION.
In the early spring of 1876 I hired out to W. B.
Grimes to help drive a herd "Up the Chisholm
Trail" to Kansas, at thirty dollars a month.
We gathered the herd of 2500 old "mossy-
horn" steers on the Navidad and Guadalupe
rivers,, in Colorado, Jackson and Victoria Coun
ties. None but old steers, from five to twenty years
old were gathered. Most of them were wild tim-

38 A LONE STAR COWBOY
ber cattle which only venture out on the edges of
the prairies at night — grazing back to the timber
before sunup.
At first, while the herd was small, we would
corral at night in one of the many public corrals
scattered over this coast country. When the herd
become too large, we had to night-herd, each coav-
boy being up singing to the steers half the night.
In corraling these steers for the night we had
great sport. Often we wouldn't get to camp with
the bunch gathered that day until after dark. In
that case the job of getting the whole herd into
the corral was a severe one.
These public corrals, built of large live-oak logs,
had wings extending out from the gate several
hundred yards ; the outer ends of the wings being
far apart.
We would handle the herd gently until inside
the wing enclosure, then a man up a tree would
think Hades had broken loose. Then it became a
case of shove. The yelling and beating of quirts
against leather "chaps" could be heard miles
away. We were lucky to get half the herd into the cor
ral the first attempt. Then the ones which had
broken through the'string of yelling cowboys were
rounded up, and another attempt made.
Towards the last there would be many old fight
ing steers which couldn't be got back to the wing
enclosures. Some would run for the timber near

A LONE STAR COWBOY 39
by, fighting mad. Then there was nothing to do
but tie the mad brute down till morning. This be
ing a dangerous job for a lone cowboy if the night
was dark.
For the purpose of tying down these unruly
steers pieces of hobble rope were kept tied on the
saddles. One dark night I ran out of rope hobbles — hav
ing previously tied down three steers — and had to
tie a mad brute down with my silk sash — used
wrapped around my waist to keep up my pants, in
place of suspenders. I could have tied him down
with his own tail, but that way of tying an animal
generally lames one leg for a few days.
In tying a cow-brute down with its own tail, the
hair on the end of the tail is divided into equal
parts, then knotted together at the ends, forming
a loop. Now the tail is wound once or twice around
the animal's upper hind leg while lying flat on the
ground, and the loop put between the split hoof.
This keeps that leg drawn up so that the animal
can not stand on its feet very long at a time.
It was against the rules to hog-tie a trail steer,
as it caused stiffness in the legs. Only the two
hinds legs were tied together, which allowed the
animal to stand up, though he couldn't travel very
far in that condition.
Sometimes we had to sew up the eye-lids
of these old "Mossy-horn" steers to prevent them
running for the timber every chance they got. It

40 A LONE STAR COWBOY
required about two weeks time to rot the thread,
allowing the eyes to open. By this time the ani
mal was ' ' broke in, ' '
After gathering the herd of 2500 steers the job
of road-branding began. Small bunches were cut
off from the main herd and put in a corral. Then
each animal had to be roped and thrown by cow
boys afoot, who worked in pairs. Now the road-
brand, G, was burnt into the hair sufficiently deep
to last "up the trail."
Often the corral Avas ankle deep with mud, mak
ing it tough on the cowboy's fine, calf-skin boots.
Being wet they were hard to get off and on, there
fore "the boys generally slept with their boots on.
At one time I wore my boots night and day for
two weeks at a stretch, as they were number fives
when they should have been number sixes. Cow
boys took great pride in small feet.
When we finally got strung out "upp the trail"
the crew consisted of. twenty-five cowboys, the
cook,who drove the mess-wagon, and the boss, Asa
Dowdy. Stampedes at night during the spring rains and
thunder storms Avere frequent. Then the boys had
to remain in the saddle all night, otherwise they
could sleep half the night.
The striking of a match to light a cigarette, or
pipe, or a pony shaking the saddle, often caused
stampedes. On reaching the town of Gonzales our boss did

A LONE STAR COWBOY 41
a foolish thing. He concluded to give the boys a
full nights rest by corraling the whole herd in the
large House corral, a few miles west of town.
By night we had the whole herd into the corral.
It was jammed full.
After supper, as was the custom when a corral
contained wild cattle, all the boys took their bed
ding and night-horse to the corral and spread out
their beds around it, equal distances apart.
Then the boys retired for the night, sleeping
with their clothes on, and holding the bridle-reins,
or hackamore rope, of their pony in one hand.
These public corrals were built round, so that in
case of a stampede, the boys could, by yelling and
the shaking of slickers, etc., get the herd to mill
ing in a circle, until exhausted.
About midnight while we were all asleep, a
storm sprang up. A loud crash of thunder and
lightning started a stampede. The frightened herd
Avent through the corral where I was sleeping. I
barely had time to mount my pony, which saved
me from being trampled to death.
The corral Avas built of large live-oak logs and
rails — the largest logs being at the bottom, next to
the ground. The herd went through it as though
it was built of paper.
While running in the lead of the herd, during
flashes of lightning, I could see fence rails on top
of the steers backs. The herd being jammed into a
solid mass the rails couldn't fall to the ground.

42 A LONE STAR COWBOY
The boss had slept in camp with his clothes off.
In this condition he sprang onto his night-horse,
tied to a wagon wheel, and was soon in the lead of
the herd; but before getting there his pony ran
against a tree and almost tore off one of his little
toes, he being fare-footed. Being in his under
clothes he suffered greatly from the wound, and
cold rain. At daylight I tied up the wound with
a handkerchief. The toe was hanging by the strong
cords. I managed to get it back in place before
tying it up.
On reaching the edge of the prarie, about a mile
from camp, the herd split in two halves, the boss
and I staying with one bunch.
When daylight came, and the steers had exhaust
ed themselves, we were ten miles from camp, on
an open prairie.
On riding back to camp over the trail made by
the fleeing herd in the soft mud, many steers with
broken legs were passed. Some had one or both
horns knocked loose from their heads. This being
caused by running up against the corral, or into
trees before reaching the prairie.
I doubt if there ever was such a large herd of
wild steers put into one corral before, or since.
On reaching the Capital city of Austin, on the
Colorado River, two hundred miles from its mouth
at the town of Matagordo, we struck the "Chis-
holm Trail" proper. From here north to the
line of Kansas, a distance of about seven hundred

A LONE STAR COWBOY 43
miles, it was one continuous road-way, several
hundred yards wide, tramped hard and solid by
the millions of hoofs which had gone over it. It
started in at a ford three miles below the city. All
smaller trails from the different Gulf-coast dis
tricts merged into this great and only ' ' Chishohn
Trail." Now half of our crew returned home overland,
leaAdng us with a crew of twelve cowboys, with six
picked ponies for each rider.
We finally reached the over-grown county seat
of Ft. Worth — now one of the leading cities of
Texas. We drove through the eastern edge of
town covered with new board shanties. Dogs run
ning out to bark at us caused a stampede. The
occupants of these new houses became greatly ex
cited until the running herd was past.
Ft. Worth's first railroad, the Texas Pacific,
had just struck town, or was near by, which ac
counted for so many new houses on the old "Chis-
holm Trail."
After leaving Ft. Worth we found many of the
Avatering places fenced up by new settlers. Barbed
wire had just come into use, and many of the
fences were of this material. We paid no attention
to fences, but shoved the herd right through them.
On one occasion we had a big stampede when
the barbed wire hung to the steers horns and
tails, and the big and little "hoe-men" ran out to
sick the dogs on us. Some of these dogs "bit the

44 A LONE STAR COWBOY
dust" by having hot lead shot into them by angry
cowboys, who regarded the "Chisholm Trail" too
sacred to be scratched with plows and hoes.
We passed through a ten mile stretch of black
jack timber before reaching Red River, the divid
ing line between Texas and the Indian ' ' Nation, ' '
now the state of Oklahoma.
We found Red River a raging torrent, nearly a
mile wide, and full of drifting trees and logs.
Therefore Ave were compelled to ' ' lay over ' ' a cou
ple of days to wait for the river to lower, as the
drifting timber made it too dangerous to attempt
a crossing. There were about twenty herds ahead of us
waiting for the driftwood to cease flowing.
These twenty-one camps were about half a mile
apart, and at night the air rang Avith the voices of
singing cowboys. These songs were mostly old
favorites, such as Sam Bass, Mustang Grey, The
Dying Cowboy, and When You and I Were Young-
Maggie. The next day other herds arrived, which swelled
the numbers of camps, all within a radius of a few
miles. On the evening of the second day the Cattle In
spector from Red River Station, a few miles up
the river, visited all the camps and told the bosses
that he would start in early next morning to in
spect the herds. He was employed by the state to
inspect all cattle before they crossed the river

A LONE STAR COWBOY 45
into the Indian "Nation." His fee was ten cents
a head, and it was his duty to cut out all strays
not wearing the regular road-brand. Range cattle
were scattered all along the trail and many of
them would get into the herds while spread out
grazing. At daylight the following morning the Inspect
or rode into the nearest camp to the crossing to
inspect that herd.
The boys were eating breakfast and the boss in
vited the Inspector to have a cup of coffee.
While drinking the coffee he was thrown to the
ground and hog-tied, then a handkerchief was
shoved into his mouth so he couldn't scream. In
this condition he was carried a few hundred yards
down the river and thrown into a plum thicket.
Then the boys got a shears and clipped the mane
and tail of his fine Kentucky mare. Now letters
were cut into the hair on her side, which read:
' ' The Inspector is fixed, ' ' or words to that effect.
Then the mare was turned loose and she ran to
wards home.
Now the herd was rounded up and put across
the river, which had fallen during the night, so
that there were only a few hundred yards to swim.
Soon a runner came to our camp and told thp
boss that the Wess Harding bunch of cowboys had
got away with the Inspector, and that if he want
ed to save the inspection fee — which would have
amounted to two hundred and fifty dollars — and

46 A LONE STAR COWBOY
the strays, he had better hurry across the river
before the mob came from Red River Station.
We lost no time in shoving the herd into the
river, thus saving the inspection fee, and a couple
of hundred strays, which were sold in Wichita,
Kansas, along with the balance of the herd.
While putting the herd across the river I did a
foolish thing, which has left a blotch on my con
science to this day.
While the herd was being shoved into the water
by the yellow cowboys in the rear, I was stationed
between the high dirt bank and the waters edge, on
the right hand side, to keep the herd headed for
the other shore. The loud yelling of the cowboys
had brought a bunch of cattle out of the timber
on the run, with heads and tails up. They came
tearing towards me. There were about one hun
dred head, all fine blooded durhams.
I stood looking at these beauties with open-
mouth wonder until it was too late to run them
back. They went right into the herd and swam
across the river with the steers — thus adding gold
dollars to jingle in "Daddy" Grimes' pocket.
They were sold in Wichita, Kansas, for big
money. The chances are some neAV settler further down
the river had brought this little herd from the
east, and, no doubt, much sleep had been lost hunt
ing for them.
Nearly three years later in the fall of 1879, I

A LONE STAR COWBOY 47
crossed Red River above Red River Station, and
made inquiry about the fate of the Inspector. I
learned that when his mare came home his wife
gave the alarm, and eA^ery male citizen in the vil
lage old enough to "tote" a gun started down the
river to search for the Inspector. He was found
in the plum ticket two days later; almost eaten
up by flies and mosquitos. And that after recov
ering he sold out his interests in Red River Sta
tion and returned to Kentucky.
In going through the Indian "Nation" we had
several bad rivers to swim. The Wachita, and the
South and North Canadians being the worst.
Large bands of mounted blanket Indians gave
us much trouble. They were in the habit of rid
ing into camp when the cook was alone and eating
all the cooked grub in sight. They also demanded
the bosses to give them "who-haws", (steers) for
beef, or they would stampede the herd at night.
In this way these roaming bands from the Coman
che, Kiowa, Kickapoo and Wichita Agencies, to
the westward, near the Wichita Mountains, kept
themselves well supplied with fresh meat. They
were the cause of many stampedes among the hun
dreds of herds passing up the trail at this season
of the year.
On reaching Salt Fork River our misery began.
After breakfast the boss had gone on ahead with
the two wagons. We had lately rigged up a
wagon to haul a supply of wood.

48 , A LONE STAR COWBOY
About ten a. m. the boss came running Lack
and told us to hurry as fast as possible, as the
river was rising fast. He said he managed to get
the wagons over just in time, as the drift-wood
and trees began flowing soon after.
When we arrived at the river she was about a
half mile wide and full of drift-wood.
The lead steers were pointed into the foaming
water. The boss and Otto Draub were on the
left point, while Negro Gabe and I were on the
right, to keep the leaders from turning back. Hen
ry Coats was out in the lead, and the steers fol
lowing him nicely.
When the water became deep enough to swim,
Henry Coats ' horse refused to swim. He fell over
on his side, and in the excitement the lead steers
turned back onto Gabe and me, and swam back to
the shore.
We made a dozen efforts to get the herd back
into the water, but failed. By this time it was
raining, and the wind blowing a gale.
There we were in a fix, separated from our grub
and bedding.
The wagons had gone on to the Pond Creek
Stage Station, where now is located the prosper
ous town of Pond Creek, Oklahoma, a couple of
miles from the river.
No doubt our failure to get the herd into the
river was a God-send, for some of us might have
been drowned. It makes it very dangerous for

A LONE STAR COWBOY 49
man and beast when struck by a swift flowing log
or tree. Many trail boys have been drowned
through this cause. Also horses and cattle.
Now we drove the herd down the river, a mile
or two, where there was a belt of timber.
Late in the evening the rain ceased for a while,
then a large camp fire was built of wet logs, and
never allowed to go out during our stay here.
Night and day the fire was kept burning. Being
so large and hot the rain could 't put it out. For
supper a fat steer was butchered, and each cow
boy not on duty with the cattle, roasted enough to
satisfy his hunger. It had to be eaten without
salt. Early at night a new rain storm, with much
lightning and thunder, broke out. Hence every
man had to be in the saddle to stay with the drift
ing herd till daylight, by which time we were sev
eral miles from camp. Every now and then the
whole herd would stampede. -
Two days later Negro Gabe and I were hunting
lost steers when we found an ear of yellow corn on
the trail. That night we slipt off from the other
boys and built a small fire to roast meat, and
parch corn in the hot ashes. Gabe contended that
God had dropped this ear of corn there for our
special benefit.
The cold drizzling rain continued night and day.
We managed to get a little sleep by rolling up in
our saddle blankets, close to the camp fire.

50 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Had it not been for the fact that the Cimarron
and Wild Horse rivers were roaring torrents, oth
er trail outfits would have arrived to furnish us
with grub and bedding. We had the whole coun
try between Salt Fork and Wild Horse to our
selves. On the seventh day, in the afternoon, the boss,
Hastings and I were hunting steers lost in a stam
pede the night before, when we saw the tents of
a company of U. S. soldiers on the opposite side
of Wild Horse, which was a roaring, swift flowing
stream, about two hundred yards wide.
On being told by the captain that we could ha\re
all the grub we wanted by coming over to get it,
I jumped my pony into the foaming water and
swam across. Then a wash tub was borrowed
from the captain's wife. This was filled full of
flour, bacon, coffee, sugar and salt, and guided to
the opposite shore. I swam by the side of the tub,
landing several hundred yards below, being car
ried down by the swift current.
Now the tub was carried up stream and launched
back into the water.
Thanking the captain's wife for the use of her
boat, I mounted my pony and swam back to my
companions. A large tin can had been taken along to make
coffee in, also a few small cans to be used as cups.
That night the boys had a picnic filling up. The

A LONE STAR COWBOY 51
bread was baked by rolling it on sticks and hold
ing it over hot coals.
The next morning the sun came out and there
was not a cloud in the sky.
_ This being the eighth day since separating our
selves from the mess-wagon.
The river had gone down so that Ave only had
about one hundred yards to swim.
The cook and driver of the wood wagon Avere
found well rested at the Pond Creek ranch.
Now we continued on "up the trail", passing
the noted grave of Hennessey, a cowboy killed
two years before, in 1874, by the wild Comanche
Indians, who had turned out on the war-path, kil
ling every white person they came across.
Near his grave the town of Hennessey, Oklaho
ma, is now located.
At Bluff Creek, a few miles west of Caldwell,
we crossed over the line of the Indian "Nation"
and were in the Sunflower State.
On reaching the Ninnescali river, at the mouth
of Smoots creek, a permanent camp Avas estab
lished. Mr. W. B. Grimes, who had come around
by rail, was there to meet us.
When Mr. Grimes returned to Wichita, thirty
miles east, the boss and some of the boys accom
panied him, to receive their summer's wages and
free railroad transportation back to Southern
Texas. In those days it was the custom for all cowboys

52 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Avho wished to return home, to receive free rail
road tickets.
It was the fourth day of July when our camp
was pitched on the Ninnescah river.
The herd was split into three bunches to fatten
for the fall market. I remained with one herd of
800 steers. Our outfit consisted of a boss, four
cowboys, a cook and mess-wagon, with five saddle
ponies to the rider. Five miles east of the mouth
of Smoots Creek lived a New York family who
had taken up a quarter section of land and put in
a crop. From them we bought eggs and vege
tables. They had acres of watermelons and canta
loupes, but these didn't cost us a penny. All we
had to do was load the mess-wagon with dry cow-
chips from an old bed-ground and dump them at
the kitchen door, then load the wagon with melons.
These cow-chips being used as fuel, as there was
no timber or wood near by.
Soon after pitching camp on the Ninnescah, one
of our trail boys, John Marcum, entered a Gov
ernment homestead in the forks of the Ninnescah
and Smoots Creek. He was laughed at as a "fool
hoeman," but he took the joking good-naturedly.
I haATe always had a desire to see this Marcum
farm, now that the country is thickly settled and
highly improved.
It was the first part of August before I had an
opportunity to see the cattle town of Wichita,
Kansas.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 53
Another cowboy and I rode the thirty-five miles
from camp in quick time. The first thing we did
was to go to the New York store and fit out with
neAv clothes from head to feet.
We found Wichita to be a livery town of about
2500 inhabitants. Now it is a city with eighty-five
thousand population.
By the time the barbers got through fixing us
up it was dark.
Now our ponies were mounted and we struck
out in a gallop for Rowdy Joe's dance hall across
the Arkansas river.. There were other dance halls
across the river, but Rowdy Joe had the name
throughout Southern Texas, of running the swift
est joint in Kansas — hence we steered for his
place. On nearing the toll bridge the one-legged man
came out of his shanty to collect the twenty-five
cents toll. We both went past him on the run,
shooting our pistols off over his head. The poison
liquor we had drunk since our arrival in town
made us feel gay.
When half-way across the bridge the one-legged
man turned both barrels of a shot-gun loose at
us. We could hear the buckshot rolling along the
bridge floor, under our ponies feet. One shot hit
me in the calf of my left leg, and the scar re
mains to this day, as a reminder of Wichita's
hurrah days.
It was in Wichita that Wild Bill made his rec-

54 A LONE STAR COWBOY
ord as a killer of men, while acting as city mar-
shall, and on one of the public streets Wess Har
ding a Texas man-killer, shot and killed one of his
own cowboys for wearing a stove-pipe hat. The
clerks in one of the stores had put it on his head
as a joke, and while walking down the street he
met Wess Harding, for whom he had come "up the
trail" with a herd of long-horns.
Wess Harding asked him to take that thing off
his head. He refused to do it, which cost him his
life, as West shot him dead. At least this was the
story told to the Rancho Grande cowboys by
"Shanghai" Pierce on his return from Wichita
that season.
The boys Avho returned with ' ' Shanghai ' ' Pierce
also told of how Wess Harding at Wichita, Kan
sas, beat "Shanghai" out of 300 fat steers.
In the late summer Wess Harding borroAved 300
fat steers from "Shanghai" to finish out a ship
ment that he was making to Missouri, promising
to replace the steers later, when the balance of his
herd became fat.
Late in the fall, when Mr. Pierce was closing
out his cattle interests at Wichita, to return home,
he wrote Wess Harding two or three "sassy" let
ters about the return of those steers. One day
they met at the Occidental Hotel. Wess put his
hand on his pistol saying: "Do you want those
steers now, Shang?" Mr. Pierce smelled blood in
the air, and in an excited manner, told Wess to let

A LONE STAR COWBOY 55
the matter drop as he didn't need the steers. Thus
the debt was cancelled.
Late in the fall, after the first snow-fall a cow-
hoy by the name of Collier and I concluded to go
to the Black Hills of Dakota, which was on. a min
ing boom. Drawing our pay we rode into Wichi
ta, I being mounted on a race pony, Whisky Pete,
which I had lately purchased.
In Wichita we ' ' whooped her up Liza- Jane ' ' for
a couple of days and nights and found ourselves
broke. Then we gaA^e up the Black Hills trip and
started for the Medicine river, 100 miles west, to
hunt a winter's job.
In Kiowa Collier secured a job, while I drifted
down the river to where it empties into the Salt
Fork of the Arkansas. Here Maj. Drum had a
large cattle ranch and I figured on getting a job
there, but failed.
I met Maj. Drum, whose hair was then turning
white with old age, and strange to relate, he is still
living and has become a millionaire. He has of
fices in the Stock Exchange at Kansas City, Mis
souri, and looks after his money loaning business
with the vim of a young man. No doubt he is near-
ing the century mark.
I finally secured a month's job to help move the
Johnson herd of cattle down into the Indian ' ' Na
tion". We established the winter camp on the Eagle
Chief Creek, a tributary to the Cimarron River.

56 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Before reaching there a severe snow storm and
blizzard struck us, and I suffered greatly, stand
ing night guard clad in summer clothes. The oth
er boys had prepared themselves for winter. I
didn't even have over-shoes or an over-coat.
Up to that time cattle had never been wintered
in that part of the "Nation" on account of the
danger from Indians. Mr. Johnson was called
foolish for taking the risk.
After drawing my month's pay from the boss,
Mr. Hudson, I spent a few weeks trapping, etc. I
had built a dougout about a mile from the John
son camp. One snowy day part of the Johnson
herd drifted over the roof of my castle. One steer
fell through, missing me by a foot. I came very
near roasting before the blazing fire in the fire
place. Finally I got a chance to crawl under the
steer's flanks and make my escape. Then I swore
off trapping, leaving my pelts behind. I started
for Kiowa, Kansas, next morning, and about three
o 'clock in the evening the raging blizzard became
so cold I concluded to head for a warmer climate.
I had been facing the north wind. Now my
course was turned to the southeast, down the
Eagle Chief Creek.
After dark camp was pitched, but I went to
sleep on my saddle blankets with an empty stom
ach, as I had brought no grub along, thinking I
would reach the Drum ranch that night.

A LONE STAR COWBOY" 57
Now my route lay down the Cimarron river
through sand hills and blackjack timber.
During the all-day ride many deer and turkey
were seen, but I was afraid to shoot off my pistol
for fear of attracting Indians — there being fresh
moccasin tracks everywhere.
That evening a jack-rabbit was killed with a
club when he hid in a bunch of tall grass. He Avent
into my stomach for filling that night.
Early next morning while absent from my
camp-fire to get a cup of snow from a drift a-
gainst a high sand-hill, to be melted for drinking
water, the tall grass around my camp caught fire.
I had a swift job on my hands to save Whiskey
Pete and my saddle. My Leather leggins and slick
er were burnt to a crisp. Only a small piece of sad
dle blanket was saved.
That night I had to sleep without even a saddle
blanket to cover with, nor did I have fire to warm
by, as my match box had burnt up with my slicker.
I hadn't gone far next morning when, a fresh
Indian camp, just vacated, was struck. After
warming by the fire I continued down the river,
knowing that I Avould soon strike the Chilsolm
cattle trail. It was struck during the evening, and
I turned south on it. About five miles ahead of
me was the band of Indians whose signs had been
seen all along my route.
That night I camped with a government freight
ing outfit. They informed me that the fifty ±Ziowa

58 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Indians who had just passed were returning to
their reservation from a hunting trip.
I slept with "Long Mike" that night, and next
morning he proved his Irish generosity by pre
senting me Avith a pair of pants and a blue soldiers
overcoat. The next evening I rode into Darlington — the
Cheyenne Indian Agency — on the North Canadian
River. Across the river stood Fort Reno, filled
with United State soldiers.
Since leaving Kiowa, Kansas, I had not seen a
house. Now, after more than forty years have
passed, you can imagine the number of fine hous
es that would be passed in going over the same
route. A "fool hoe-man's" dwelling now stands
on nearly every quarter section of land in that
part of Oklahoma.
After supper in Darlington, one of the clerks
m the store accompanied me a mile up the river
to an Indian camp, where they were having war
dances in preparation for their big medicine dance
soon to take place. It was a sight to me — half-
naked Indians covered with beads and feathers
cutting up all kinds of monkey-shines.
Every spring the Cheyennes held their big med-
icince doings up the river to test the grit of their
young bucks, who hoped some day to become ' ' Big
chiefs." Slits were cut thru the flesh of each side of the
breast. Now the Avould-be chief was hoisted upon

A LONE STAR COWBOY „9
a tall pole. If he succeeded in tearing the flesh
loose so as to fall to the ground he was considered
' ' good medicine, ' ' and fit for a future chief. Other
wise he was branded as "bad medicine." Those
who had the grit to tear themselves lose took great
pride in showing the ragged scars as proof of
their "good medicine". The Government finally
put a stop to the cruelty.
After leaving the Cheyenne Agency I continued
south on the Chisholm trail to the Wachita. Then
my route was changed to the east, down that river.
I rode into Erin Springs — the home of a weal
thy squaAv-man by the name of Frank Murray —
late one evening. The woods were full of Chica-
saw Indians, and tough squaw-men, who had come
to attend a big dance at Frank Murrays.
Whiskey was plentiful, being sold by Bill Ander
son against the law. This Bill Anderson had
serA^ed with Quantrell's band of confederate sol
diers, and had since become an outlaw.
I joined the gay mob and danced with half-breed
Indian maidens until daylight.
This I consider the wind-up of a foolish cow
boy's first trip "up the Chisholm trail".

60 A LONE STAR COWBOY
CHAPTER IV.
CAPTURING A BAND OF MEXICAN
THIEVES.
A HERD OF BUFFALO LEAPS OVER MY
HEAD. CHASED BY A WOUNDED
BUFFALO BULL.
From Erin Springs I continued down the river
to Pauls Valley — one of the richest spots on earth.
Here it was no trick to raise from one hundred
to one hundred and twenty-five bushels of corn to
the acre, this corn sold for only ten cents a bushel.
This brought many feeders to the valley to fatten
steers for the market. Henry Childs and the
Mitchells were the largest feeders in the valley.
Old Smith Paul, who was then ninety-two years
of age, had been adopted by the Indians when a
boy. When he grew to manhood he married an
Indian girl and raised a brood of half-breeds.
One of his sons was shot and killed years after
wards in Ardmore, Oklahoma, by his own son.
Smith Paul owned most of this large valley, as
he had it under fence. According to the law and
custom, any Chicasaw Indian, or squaw-man, held
title to all the land that he was able to keep under
fence — so that he didn't get nearer than a quarter
of a mile of any one else's fence.
Most of this rich, black land he rented out to
white farmers, who raised corn.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 61
In the early spring of 1877, while I was in the
valley, this husky old man married a sixteen year
old Texas girl. I was told that they had three
children before he died.
Here I spent the winter breaking wild ponies
at two dollars and fifty cents a head. My home
Avas with one of the 'renters on Mr. Paul's land.
While living with this renter and his splendid
family I paid fifty dollars for one crack shot out
of my new Smith & Wesson pistol. One of the
boys and I were back of the house, and I was brag
ging of how I could knock a birds eye out every
shot with this pistol. The boy pointed out a red-
bird sitting on a limb, in a clump of bushes say
ing: "Let me see you knock his eye out".
The eye went with the bird's head when I fired.
The shot killed one of the renters fine work horses
standing concealed further on. I was let off by
paying fifty dollars, half the animal's value. Dur
ing the winter a pretty little half-breed girl got
me "plum locoed," and I came within an ace of
marrying her. All that prevented was the fear
that being a squaw-man might ruin my chance of
becoming president of these glorious United
States. My school books had taught me that every
boy has an equal chance of becoming president.
In the late spring I drifted to Tishamingo, the
capital of the Choctaw Nation — thence to Deni-
son, Texas, and west to St. Joe, on the Chisholm
trail.

62 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Here, in May, I secured a job with one of the
north-bound herds of longhorns owned by Capt.
George Littlefield, of Austin, Texas.
This herd consisted of 3,500 head of mixed
cattle. One of Mr. George Littlefield's nephews,
Phelps White, now a millionaire stockman of Ros-
well, New Mexico, was one of the cowboys.
In Passing through the Indian "Nation" we
experienced many hardships in swimming swol
len rivers. Dudley Pannell — later shot and killed
in Tascosa, Texas, — and I were the champion
swimmers of the outfit, and did most of the dan
gerous work in the water.
The herd being made up of mixed stock-cattle
it was a difficult matter to get them to take to the
water. Small bunches had to be cut off from the
main herd and shoved into the raging torrent.
Then naked cowboys would swim on each side of
the leaders to keep them headed towards the op
posite shore.
Often when out in mid-stream the leaders would
turn around and go to milling in a circle. Once I
was caught in the center of the milling herd, and
to save myself from being jammed to death, I
crawled up onto the animals backs, working my
way from back to back until the edge of the herd
Avas reached.
Often these milling bands would drift with the
current a mile or to down the stream before we
could get them strung out again. To make them

A LONE STAR COWBOY 63
string out we would swim near the edge and
splash water in the nearest animals' faces, at the
same time yell and "cuss".
When sure that the band would continue of
their own accord, to the opposite shore, we would
swim back after another bunch. Sometimes we
would have to walk a mile or more up the river to
the main herd, the swift current having taken us
down the stream.
In order to get the mess-wagon over these rag
ing streams, a log raft had to be made to float it
over. On crossing the Cimarron River, at the mouth
of Turkey Creek, we switched off from the Chis
holm trail and headed north-west for Dodge City,
Kansas, via the U. S. Government Post of Camp
Supply. The reason for leaving the Chisholm trail was
the fact that the "fool hoe-men" were fast set
tling up the grazing country west of Wichita.
We arrived in Dodge City, Kansas, on the third
day of July. The herd was to continue on up to
Ogallaly, Nebraska, and possible further north to
Miles City Montana — both great cattle towns.
Therefore, I drew my pay and quit the job,
to celebrate the glorious Fourth of July in the
toughest cattle town on earth.
This celebration came near costing me my life
in a freeforall fight in the Lone Star dance hall,
in charge of the now noted Bat Masterson.

64 A LONE STAR COWBOY
The hall was jammed full of free-and-easy girls,
long-haired buffalo hunters and wild and wooly
cowboys. In the mix-up my cowboy chum, Wess Adams,
was severely stabbed by a buffalo hunter. Adams
had started the fight to show the long-haired buf
falo hunters that they were not in the cowboy
class. We had previously taken our ponies out of
the livery stable and tied them near the hall. I
had promised Adams to stay with him 'till Hades
froze up solid.
The stab wound was in the back, under the
shoulder blade.
After mounting our ponies, Joe Mason, a town
marshal, tried to arrest us, but we ran him to
cover in an alley, then went out of town yelling
and shooting off our pistols.
By daylight we had ridden eighteen miles to
the D. T. Beals ' steer camp. Towards the last I had
to hold Adams on his horse, he had become so
weak from loss of" blood. This wound laid him
up for two weeks.
This incident illustrates Avhat fools some young
coAvboys were after long drives "up the Chisholm
trail", and after filling their hides full of the
poison liquors manufactured to put red-shirted
Irish rail-road builders to sleep, so that the toughs
could "roll" them, and get their "wads". Instead
of putting a cowboy to sleep it stirred up the devil

A LONE STAR COWBOY 65
in his make-up, and made him a wide-awake
hyena. At this time the Atchison, Topeka and Santa
Fe railroad was building west from Dodge City,
which filled the town full of cut-throats and bums,
who follow up new railroads.
The town was also the outfitting center for buf
falo hunters within a radius of hundreds of miles,
and that year of 1877 she became the great long-
horn cattle center of the Universe, by Wichita
losing the trail drive through the "fool hoe-men"
settling up the cattle range to the westward.
The citizens of Dodge City seemed proud of
their fat grave yard in the 'Boot Hill' Cemetery,
where there were eighty-one graves, all the occu
pants having died with their boots on — in other
words killed, except one, who died a natural death.
A fine record for a town only one year old — that
is dating from the time she became a center for
cattle-men, buffalo hunters and railroad crews.
Fort Dodge, a government post, was located
only five miles distant, and the soldier boys added
merriment, as well as devilment to the little year
ling city.
Other Kansas towns which attained distinction
as cattle shipping points, were Elsworth, Abilene.
Ellis, Great Bend, Hutchison, Nickerson, Newton,
Caldwell and Coolidge. The latter, being on the
western edge of the state, became a Avild and wooly

66 A LONE STAR COWBOY

>>

town in the early '80s, when the "fool hoe-men
had settled up the country around Dodge City.
Abilene, Ellis and Caldwell took the lead in
burying hilarious cowboys with their boots on.
Hunnewell, Garden City and Kingman won
some distinction as cattle towns — and so did Med
icine Lodge and Kiowa in later years.
The first long-horn cattle were driven north in
the late '60s to Baxter Springs and Abilene, be
fore Wichita became a town.
It was in Abilene that Joe McCoy shipped his
first car-load of buffalos.
During the '70s Miles City, Montana, Cheyenne,
Wyoming, Ogalally and Sidney, Nebraska, were
wild and wooly cattle centers. From these places
large herds were driven to the open ranges, where
new ranches were established. Most of these new
ranches began improving the long-horn cattle by
introducing short-horn males.
One of these new ranches afterwards became
noted as the Two-bar 70 ranch. It was located on
Snake River, near Soda Springs, Idaho.
A wealthy citizen, by the name of Wm. E.
Hawks, of Bennington, Vermont, established the
ranch, and put his young son, Wm. E. Hawks, Jr.,
in charge.
Now, after the passing of over a quarter of a
century, this man Wm. E. Hawks, Jr., has become
the collector of the greatest store of cowboy liter
ature and paraphenalia in the whole United

A LONE STAR COWBOY 67
States. At his fine home in Bennington, Vt., he
has what he proudly calls his "Two-bar 70 Te
pee," where these relics are displayed.
In Bennington Mr. Hawks is known as the Mil
lionaire Cowboy. He attracts much attention when
riding his favorite cow-pony through the streets,
wearing his cowboy sombrero, goat-skin leggins,
etc. Soon after the Fourth of July I secured a job
Avith the Da\Tid T. Beals outfit to drive a herd of
young steers to the Pan-handle of Texas, where
a new ranch was to be established.
Bill Allen, of Corpus Christi, Texas, was the
boss, and Owl-head Johnson was the cook, and
driver of the mess-wagon.
"Deacon" Bates one of Mr. Beal's partners, a
dyed-in-the-wool Yankee, accompanied us for the
purpose of selecting the new range.
After crossing the Cimarron River into No-
mans-land — now a part of the State of Oklaho
ma — we saw our first herd of buffalos grazing a
few miles to the southward.
Mr. Bates selected me to ride on ahead with
him and get some fresh buffalo meat.
When within a mile of the herd, the ponies were
tied in a gulch. Then we walked afoot out on the
open flat, straight towards the wooly animals.
When within about one hundred yards of them we
raised our Sharps 45 caliber rifles and fired. Two
young animals, a bull and a heifer, dropped over

68 A LONE STAR COWBOY
dead. Now the whole herd began bawling and mil
ling around the fallen beasts.
I became frightened and wanted to run back
to my pony, but Mr. Bates, who had ranched at
Granada, Colorado, said buffalos were harmless
unless wounded, when they became vicious.
Still I felt timid and allowed the "Deacon" to
walk ahead.
On reaching the edge of the milling herd, he
pulled off his hat and began shooing them out of
his Avay. At first they seemed to pay no attention
to him, but finally they started away on the run.
This trait of buffalo nature made it easy for
hunters to slaughter them by the thousands. They
will stampede at the sight of a horseman, but pay
no attention to a man afoot.
A day or two later I roped my first buffalo.
We had pitched camp for the night when a herd
of the wooly animals ran past the camp, headed
west. I had just ridden out a few hundred yards to
turn back some steers which were going into the
sand hills.
At a break-neck pace I took after the fleeing
buffalos, not realizing that my pistol and bowie-
knife lay on the ground in camp, until after I had
overtaken the rear end of the herd.
Now down came my lasso and an eight months
old heifer was roped by the neck. The bawling of
the calf brought the mother coav on the run. She

A LONE STAR COWBOY 69
made a dive for my pony. The thirty foot rope
was tied hard and fast to my saddle horn, so that
the rope couldn't be turned loose. By "socking"
spurs to the pony I managed to drag the calf and
keep out of the cows reach. She soon scampered
off after the fleeing herd.
By this time I was many miles from camp, and
it Avas getting dark.
I tried to throw the calf hard enough, so that
she would lie still until I could reach her on foot.
But the instant she struck the ground on her side
she would be on her feet again.
Finally becoming angry I dismounted and
went at her with all the strength in my make-up.
She Avas soon hog-tied with my silk sash.
Noav with a dull pocket knife I cut the throat
and peeled her hide off. Then I tied a chunk of
meat to my saddle and rode towards camp. It was
noAv pitch dark.
After going east about a mile I concluded to
ride south in hopes of finding a stream of water,
as the pony and I were thirsty. The streams in
that country all run from the west to the east-
Avard — hence my hopes of finding water.
About three o'clock in the morning, while
sound asleep on my saddle blankets, with the
saddle for a pillow, a herd of stampeded buffalos
came running by, a few hundred yards to the west
ward. The loud roar and the shaking of the
ground frightened my mount and I was dragged

70 A LONE STAR COWBOY
quite a distance, the end of the .hackamore rope
having been wrapped around my body on lying
down. There I was left afoot on the prairie, and dy
ing for a drink of water, but thanks to kind pro-
Addence I soon heard a faint snort off to the east
ward. The pony had stopped, and I was happy af
ter mounting, and was headed towards the south
east. I knew by keeping this course we would
strike the Bascom trail, over which the herd was
being driven.
About ten, A. M. water was struck at the head
of Sharps Creek, a tributary to the Beaver River,
which was called the North Canadian further
down stream.
About noon the cattle herd arrived on Sharps
Creek, and camp was pitched. The outfit had
traveled about fifteen miles from where I left
them. We had buffalo veal mixed with flour gravy for
dinner. The boys complimented me on my skill as
a meat rustler, with only a lasso as a weapon.
On arriving at the North Paladura Creek Ave
saw the first house since leaving Crooked Creek,
twenty-five miles south of Dodge City, this being
a buffalo hunters trading store.
Now that country along the old Fort Bascom
trail is thickly populated with "fool hoe-men",
and towns have also sprung into existence, Dia-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 71
mond being one of them, with a population of
three or four thousand.
When within fifty miles of the Canadian River,
camp was established until "Deacon" Bates and
I could locate a range large enough for 50,000
cattle. We started early one morning with a pack
horse loaded with grub and bedding.
On the north bank of the South Canadian River
we landed in Tascosa, which contained half a
dozen Mexican families, and a store owned by
Howard and Rinehart. At this store liquor was
also sold. "
From here we rode down the river twenty-five
miles, to the mouth of Pitcher Creek, where a Mr.
Pitcher kept a buffalo-hunters trading-store.
Across the river about 300 wild Apache Indians
were camped, they being from Arizona on a buf
falo hunt.
Now Mr. Bates and I put in a week riding down
the river, nearly to Adobe Walls, where Tom
Bugsby had established a cattle ranch the year
previous, and south to the foot of the great Llano
Estacado. Finally Mr. Bates selected the site for the
home ranch on a little creek about a mile east of
Pitcher Creek. This to be the center of the fu
ture LX cattle range, which was to extend twenty
miles up the river and the same distance
down the stream, and twenty miles south to the

72 A LONE STAR COWBOY
foot of the Llano Estacado (Staked Plains), also
tAventy miles north to the foot of what was called
the North Staked Plans. This constituted a free
range forty miles square.
On our travels we had not seen a cow brute, and
the grass was fine. Although thousands of buf
falo Avere roaming over this range, also deer and
antelopes by the hundreds. Hence we never ran
short of wild meat to eat.
Finally Ave returned to the herd and moved it
to the site of the home ranch, where the cattle
were turned loose to fatten on the fine buffalo-
grass. Noav Mr. Bates went to Granada, Colorado, to
0Arer-see the moving of their thousands of well-
bred, shorthorn cattle to this new Panhandle
ranch. Mr. David T. Beals and Erskine Clement —
one of Mr. Beals partners — were kept busy in
Dodge City, Kansas, buying long-horn steers to
put on this new range.
By the time snow began to fall this grassy LX
range contained thousands upon thousands of
cattle. Above Tascosa a Mr. Goodrich had a small cat
tle ranch, and down the river twenty-five to fifty
miles Tom Bugsby and Hank Creswell controll
ed the range. South of us "there was not a cow-
brute until reaching the Paladuro Canyon (head
of Red River), a distance of about fifty miles,

A LONE STAR COWBOY 73
where Cattle King Charlie Goodnight, had estab
lished a large cattle ranch the year previous.
Mr. Goodnight had the pick of the whole coun
try when his ranch was selected. Nature had fenc
ed his range down in the Paladuro Canyon. The
valley down in the canyon being from one to five
miles wide and about thirty miles in length, with
walls on each side hundreds of feet high. There
Avas only one place in the canyon where cattle
could climb out, and a few rods of stone fencing
fixed this. At the head of the canyon there was
an abrupt wall. At its mouth Mr. Goodnight es
tablished his home ranch.
In the early winter Mr. Phelps White arrived
with a herd of long-horns and established the L
I T ranch above Tascosa. These cattle, and others
which came later, were owned by Mr. White 7s un
cle, Capt. Geo. Littlefield, the wealthy banker of
Austin, Texas.
During the winter Lee & Reynolds established
the L S ranch near Tascosa. Also Jim Kennedy —
a son of the cattle king, of southern Texas —
orought in a herd of steers and turned them
loose above Tascosa.
In the late fall Nick Chaffin — now a respect
ed citizen of Las Vegas, New Mexico — establish
ed the Pollard ranch on lower Blue Creek, at the
northeast edge of the LX range.
Early in the winter I started out alone down the
Canadian River in search of some lost steers. I

74 A LONE STAR COWBOY
stopped at Adobe Walls to view the ruins of that
noted place, where, in 1874, fourteen buffalo hun
ters — the notorious Bat Masterson being one of
them — stood off a large band of Comanche In
dians, killing hundreds of them with their long-
range buffalo guns, for several days, until the
United States soldiers arrived. Skulls and bones
of dead Indians still lay on the ground near this
old stockade.
On this trip I had the pleasure of meeting Mr.
and Mrs. Thomas Bugsby at their home ranch
near Adobe Walls. I was told the history of their
courtship, Avhich sounds like a dime novel story.
In the fall of 1876 Mr. Bugsby was driving
through Kansas with a small herd of fine blooded
short-horn cattle, in search of a free range.
In pitching camp one day, near a farm house,
he discovered that they had lost their axe. He
walked to the farm house to borrow one. The
farmers young daughter brought him the axe, and
at the same time, from her bright eyes, shot his
system full of Cupid's little arrows.
The next morning when Mr. Bugsby returned
the axe, he proposed marriage to this handsome
young lady, and after papa and mamma were
consulted, the deal was made.
A Justice of the Peace tied the knot, and then
the journey to the wild Panhandle of Texas was
continued, with a new girl cook to dish up the
grub.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 75
A year or so later a girl baby was born — the
only white child in that part of the country. She
Avas called the "white papoose" by the Indians.
But when about eight years old, she — an
only child — met a horrible death from the bite
of a mad skunk.
Further down the river I stopped at the Cress-
well cattle ranch, and formed the acquaintance of
Cattle King Hank Cresswell, and his foreman,
Tom McGee, the afterwards sheriff who was mur
dered by express robbers at Higgins, Texas.
From there I rode to Ft. Elliot, a Government
Post, where the noted man-killer, Clay Allison,
had just proA'ed his bravery.
At the Suttler's Store he was making things un
comfortable for some of the officers and clerks.
He was on one of his periodical drunks, and no
one could do anything with him. Finally the com
manding officer was sent for to have Clay put out
of the store.
This commanding officer was swollen to the
bursting point with West Point dignity. Walking
up to Clay he pointed a pistol in his face and de
manded that he leave the store at once, and never
return. Allison looked him in the face and called him
all the hard names imaginable. He told him that
he was a coward, and didn't have the nerve to
shoot. Then he gave him one minute to put up
his gun or he would fill him full of lead.

76 A LONE STAR COWBOY
The officer put up his gun and walked out of
the store, pale and trembling, at least this Avas
the story told to me.
Clay Allison had already killed eighteen men,
some of them at Cimarron, New Mexico.
At a restaurant in Cimarron he sat down at the
same table Avith a bitter enemy by the name of
"Chunk." When the waiter called for his order
he said : ' ' Give us hot coffee and pistols for two. ' '
This meant war, and "Chunk" drew his pistol,
but too late, as Clay had put in the first shot,
which was fatal.
In later years a dentist in Pueblo, Colorado
learned that Clay Allison was a dangerous man to
monkey with — although he didn't know it in time.
Allison had an aching tooth and stepped into
the dentist's office to have it pulled. Seating
himself in the chair the dentist began fumbling
with what he supposed was the aching tooth, as it
had a large cavity. Shoving the dentist's hand
aside Clay told him that he was fooling with the
wrong tooth
This angered the dentist and he told him to
keep quiet — that he knew his business, and didn't
need any advice. "Alright," answered Clay, "If
you know your business go ahead, but don't you
pull the wrong tooth."
The molar was jerked out, but the aching one
continued to do business.
Noav Clay struck Mr. dentist across the head

A LONE STAR COWBOY 77
Avith his heavy Colts pistol, which "floored" him.
Then getting the forceps he pulled every tooth
out of the front part of this tooth-doctor's upper
jaw. The Colorado papers came out with the ac
count of it later.
At this time Clay Allison had a small cattle
ranch on Gagsby Creek, a tributary of the Wach-
ita River.
From Ft. Elliot I rode down SAveet- water Creek,
five miles, to the " wild-and-wooly " town of
Sweet- water. Here there were two large outfitting
stores, run by McCamy and a Mr. Weed, also sev
eral saloons and dance-halls. She was a lively
place at night when the cowboys and buffalo-
hunters turned themselves loose.
' During my two days stay in Sweetwater I be
came chummy with a saloon proprietor, who
showed me the fine, silver plated, ivory-handled
Colts, 45 caliber pistol, willed to him a short time
previous by the noted horse-thief, "Chubby"
Jones. The story of "Chubby" Jones' death, was
also told to me by this saloon keeper, and others
in the town. I was already familiar with the his
tory of "Chubby" Jones and his boss, "Dutch
Henry," whose right name was Henry Born. All
cowboys in the Indian "Nation," and the Texas
Panhandle, knew of these two noted characters.
It was claimed that "Dutch Henry" was at the
head of 300 horse-thieves who operated between
Venita, Indian Territory, and Pueblo, Colorado.

78 A LONE STAR COWBOY
The bands who stole horses in the "Nation"
would meet a band with stolen horses from Colo
rado, at some point in No Mans Land, and swap
herds — the Colorado thieves returning to that
state, and the others back to ' ' The Nation. ' '
The undoing of "Chubby" Jones, as told to me,
happened as follows :
A company of soldiers from Ft. Elliot rounded
up "Chubby" and eight of his gang, on lower
Sweetwater Creek. In the fight the army captain
was shot through the stomach. This angered the
soldiers who hung the nine thieves to a tree that
night. When they started to string up "Chubby"
Jones he asked, as a last request that his pistol
be given to the above saloon keeper, which request
was promised and carried out.
Later I saw a newspaper account of "Dutch
Henry" being in jail at Pueblo, Colorado, for
stealing ten Government mules. Many years later
he settled down as a respectable citizen of Sum-
mitville, Colorado, Avhere he still resides, accord
ing to my latest information.
The hanging of "Chubby" Jones, and his eight
followers, and the capture of "Dutch Henry,"
broke up the worst gang of horse-thieves in the
west. About the summer of 1878 the town of Sweet-
Avater died a natural death. The toAvn of Mobeta,

A LONE STAR COWBOY 79
near Ft. Elliot, sprang into existance and killed
SweetAvater. Now the county of Wheeler was organized, and
Mobeta became the county-seat — with jurisdiction
over all the un-organized counties to the west
ward, to the New Mexico line.
A ride of 80 miles brought me back to the LX
ranch with a small bunch of lost steers.
I found a new boss in charge of the ranch, Mr.
Allen having returned to his home in Corpus
Christi, and an outlaw by the name of Wm. C.
Moore had taken his place.
This man Moore, up to a short time previous,
had been the manager of the large Swan Cattle
Company, of Cheyenno, Wyoming. He had just
shot and killed his negro coachman, and made his
get-away from the law officers in Wyoming, land
ing at the LX ranch on a broken down pony. Pre-
Adous to this he had shot and killed his brother-in-
law in the state of California, which brought him
to Cheyenne, Wyoming, to begin life anew.
Bill Moore was a natural leader of men, and one
of the best cow-men in the west. He could get more
Avork out of a gang of cowboys than any man I
ever knew. But while working so hard for the LX
outfit he was feathering nis own nest by stealing
from them. He soon started a brand of his own,
and established a ranch at Coldwater Springs, in
No Mans Land. He had two of the LX cowboys in
with him on these steals, and they tried to induce

80 A LONE STAR COWBOY
me to join them, but I refused, as it was against
my principle to steal from my employers.
A few years later Moore sold his ranch and cat
tle for $70,000. Then he quit the LX outfit, and
with this money established a cattle ranch in the
American Valley, of western New Mexico. His
stay in the American Valley was short, as he shot
and killed two men, which placed a large reward
on his head.
Many years later, as a detective, peddling whis
key among the Chilcat and Chieke Indians in the
wilds of Alaska, I met Bill Moore going under an
assumed name. At that time I was a detective run
ning down two thieves who had stolen $10,000
worth of gold from the great Treadwell, Alaska,
Mining Company.
On this trip I was mounted on the hurricane
deck of a 40 foot Indian canoe, painted with all the
colors of the rainbow. The gold was recoArered,
and the two thieves sent to the penitentiary.
After returning from Ft. Elliot a young Texan
by the name of John Roberson and I Avere put in
a camp on the head of Amarillo Creek, at the foot
of the Llano Estacado, about fifteen miles south
of the home ranch. Our duty was to prevent cat
tle from drifting onto the Staked Plains. The
cattle were in the habit of following bands of buf
falo south, onto the plains, and we experienced
much hardship in cutting them off from the run
ning buffalo herds. The cattle couldn't run fast

A LONE STAR COWBOY 81
enough to keep up with the wooly beasts, but they
Avould stay on their trail until turned back.
The company furnished us with free ammuni
tion to shoot into these roving bands of buffalos,
in order to keep them off the range.
Soon after locating our camp on Amarillo Creek
the main herd of buffalos migrating from the
north, passed a mile west of us. For three days
and nights there was a solid string of them from
a quarter to a half mile wide — sometimes in a
walk and at other times on the run.
During daylight we could look to the north
ward, across the Canadian River breaks, a dis
tance of about thirty miles, and see this black
streak of living flesh coming down off the north
plains. Their route was down Pitcher creek, a mile
west of our home ranch.
The next morning after this great string of
wooly animals had crossed the Canadian River
breaks, I trailed a bunch of cattle south onto the
plains. It was an easy matter to distinguish the
cattle tracks from those made by buffalos. The
former are sharp pointed while the latter are
round pointed.
The cattle were found with the buffalo at
Amarillo Lake — where the thriving little city of
Amarillo, Texas, is now located.
I found the whole Llano Estacado one solid
black mass of buffalo — just as far as the eye could
reach, to the' eastward, southward and westward.

82 A LONE STAR COWBOY
The great herd had scattered out to graze on the
thickly matted buffalo-grass, nearly a foot high.
There must have been a million of the wooly
beasts. Shortly after this Mr. Moore had me accom
pany him to the head of Paladura Canyon, so as to
learn the country.
Here I saw my first expert lancing of buffalo,
by Apache Indians on swift buffalo horses. I ac
companied a band of these reds out to a grazing
herd, about 50,000 in number.
When within a mile of the herd the Indian chief
lined us all up abreast — that is side by side —
close together. This being done to fool the buf
falo — as they would have stampeded at the sight
of horse-men.
They paid no attention to us until we were.
within a few hundred yards of them. Then they
began to bunch up. Now we made a charge as fast
as the horses could run. This started a stampede,
and the lancing began at the rear end of the herd.
Steel and stone lances were attached to long
poles. The lance was driven into a buffalos loin,
and down he would go, helpless, but not killed.
Some of the Indians on the swiftest horses
were almost in the center of the herd, lancing one
buffalo after another as they ran.
I did nothing but watch them at their expert
work. Just ahead of me a buck on a yellow horse
reached over to the right to bury the sharp lance

A LONE STAR COWBOY 83
into a buffalos loin Avhen his weight on the
slender wooden handle, about fourteen feet long,
snapped it in two, and down went Mr. "Ingin"
rolling in the grass. Buffalos were dodging all
around him. When he sprang to his feet a cow
jumped OArer his head and knocked him down.
Then he sat still until the rear end of the heard
had passed. While sitting there some of the
beasts jumped OATer him.
At the Avind-up of this free show I shot a buf
falo and tied his hump-loins to my saddle for
supper. For a mile or two back, the plain was covered
with hundreds of buffalos trying to rise to their
feet. Soon the hundreds of old bucks, squaws and
children arrived and butchered these struggling
animals for their hides and meat.
About Christmas we had an exciting chase after
thieves. Moore had sent a runner from the home
ranch after Roberson and me to help round up 8
Mexicans Avho had robbed Mr. Pitcher of every
thing he had. They had loaded all of his store
goods into large freight wagons and headed
across the plains in a southwesterly direction.
We, nine of us, rode night and day until they
Avere overtaken near the line of New Mexico.
For a while they stood us off with their long-
range buffalo guns.
Finally Moore sent Jack Ryan to their barri
caded wagons, under a flag of truce. They agreed

84 A LONE STAR COWBOY
to haul the stuff back and turn it over to Mr.
Pitcher, who was one of the pursuing party, on
our promise not to harm them.
This was agreed to, and we all started back to
wards Pitcher Creek. It had been promised that
they could retain their fire-arms, but while camp
ed for dinner we got the drop on them and took
away their arms.
Noav it was proposed to hang them all to a big
cottonwood tree in the head of the gulch, where
we were camped. But Dudley Pannel and I
. protested that this would be cowardly after giving
our words of honor that they would not be harm
ed. As Pannel and I were well thought of, Mr.
Moore decided in our favor, and several lives were
saved: Now Roberson and I returned to our camp at
the foot of the South Plains.
One morning I found cattle tracks among those
of a large band of buffalos. I went on their trail
in a gallop on my blue pony. The trail continued
up onto the plains past Amarillo Lake.
A ride of about twenty miles brought me in
sight of the buffalo herd, about 50,000 in number.
On reaching within a mile of them they stampeded
towards the southwest. Now my misery began,
trying to separate the dozen or more cattle from
them. It was almost night when my mount gave com-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 85
pletely out and could hardly trot. Then I turned
back towards camp, in a sIoav walk, for a night
ride. Just as the sun was getting ready to go to
roost I saAv a band of Indians coming towards me
from the west, on the run. Their steel lances were
glistening in the sun.
I thought of running, as they might be on the
war-path, but despite the spurring, my mount
couldn 't be made to gallup.
Now my Winchester rifle and Colts 45 caliber
pistol were examined to see if they were in trim
for war.
When they galloped up to me I was standing
facing them, with the rifle raised for action. The
leader passed the time of day in the Mexican
tongue, which I understood. Then he made inquiry
as to whether I had seen any buffalo. Of course I
told him about the herd which I had just left.
Seeing that my mount was played out this
Apache chief invited me to go Avith them to their
camp, a few miles west. The invitation was accept
ed, as I was hungrier than a wolf.
After filling up in this Indian camp I went to
sleep in a tepee, filled with squaws and papooses.
By the latter part of January the buffalo had
all gone south, with the exception of a few strag
gling bands. One of these bands, about one hun
dred head, made me think of the hereafter on the

86 A LONE STAR COWBOY
other side of the great divide, where Saint Peter
lives. Being out of meat, and seeing this band grazing
at the head of a gulch, about a mile distant, I con
cluded to get some buffalo humps.
In order to make sure of fresh meat I kept out
of sight, by riding in the bed of the gulch.
When within a few hundred yards of the graz
ing band the pony was left with the bridle-reins
hanging on the ground, to prevent him running
away. Continuing the journey up the arroyo afoot, I
came to the extreme head of it, a steep embank
ment. Now standing on my tip-toes a grassy valley
spread out before my eyes, and over its surface
grazed the contented animals, all but one old bull,
lying down chewing the cud of contentment, Avith-
in twenty or thirty feet of my nose.
This being the only animal within sure gun-shot
I concluded to make a death shot on him. Then
the rifle barrel was raised gently up onto the leA^el
ground. But 1 Avas not tall enough, even by stand
ing on my tip-toes, to keep the rifle butt pressed
to my shoulder, and at the same time bring the
sight down on the sleeping bull. Hence the rifle
was fired off-hand like a pistol.
Aim was taken under the hump, where the
bullet strikes the lights, and causes death.
At the crack of the gun the bull was on his feet
and jumping towards me. Ducking my head down

A LONE STAR COWBOY 87
he leaped over me and fell dying in the bed of
the gulch, at my feet. I sweated blood through fear
that he might regain his feet and discoA-er me.
Now peeping over the edge of die embankment
I discovered the whole band almost upon me. I
squatted doAvn and they leaped over my head onto
the dying and struggling bull. In looking upward
all I could see was flying buffalos. The dirt bank
caved in around me, through some of the animals
getting too near the edge before making the leap
for the bottom of the arroyo.
I felt relieved when the last ones went OA^er me,
and Avent running down the gulch.
No doubt this old bull was their leader, and see
ing him, at the crack of the gun, go over this em
bankment they followed.
After getting the loose dirt out( of my clothes,
the hump-loins were cut out of the dead bull, and
a start made for camp. My pony had stampeded
on seeing the narrow gulch filled with wooly
beasts running towards him. He was found
trembling with fright about a quarter of a mile
from where I had left him.
Soon after this I had a different kind of buffalo
experience. Seeing a lone bull grazing on a flat I rode to a
round knoll, which hid me from his view. When
within about one hundred yards of the small hill I
left the pinto pony, with the bridle-reins hanging
on the ground. Then crawling to the top of the

88 A LONE STAR COWBOY
knoll I fired a bullet from my Winchester rifle at
the bull. He dropped to the ground, and I foolish
ly stood up.
In an instant the bull jumped to his feet with
one front leg as limber as a rag. The bullet had
hit him in the shoulder.
He saw me while standing in plain view, a dis
tance of about one hundred and fifty yards. Here
he came for me with his front leg dangling at his
side. The broken leg seemed to have no effect
upon his speed.
Instead of pumping more lead into him, as the
lamented "Teddy" Roosevelt would have done, I
started for my mount on the run. The rifle went
up in the air when I started. It was a case of my
legs running away with me.
Once I looked back. That was enough, the bull
was coming down the knoll not fifty yards behind
me. My hair raising on end threw my sombrero
off my head.
My greatest fear was that "Pinto" would be
come frightened and ran before I could leap into
the saddle. But he stood still until I could make
the leap — then he wheeled around and was off
like a bullet, just in time to save my bacon.
The bull's horns raked some of the hide off his
rump before he could get out of reach. As I
sprang into the saddle the bridle-reins Aveiv
grabbed with my left hand.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 89
Now I rode around to my rifle and Mr. Bull was
killed, and his hump-loins taken to camp.
That night "Pinto" received a double feed of
corn for saving my life.
CHAPTER V.
A TRIP TO CHICAGO AS COW-PUNCHER.
MY FIRST ACQUAINTANCE WITH
OUTLAW "BILLY THE KID."
Towards spring Mr. Moore put a cowboy in
my place, to camp with Roberson, and I was sent
out with a scouting outfit to drift over the South
Staked Plains in search of stray cattle. Our out
fit consisted of a cook, Owl-head Johnson, and
three riders, Jack Ryan, Van Duzen and myself.
After starting on this trip we experienced a touch
of hardship. Camp was pitched after dark one
evening on the edge of a "dry" lake, or basin.
Enough buffalo-chips were gathered to cook sup
per. After retiring under our tarpaulins, spread
over the beds on the ground, a severe snow
storm sprang up. By daylight our beds were
covered with a foot of snow. .
Crawling out of these warm beds into the deep
snow made it anything but pleasant. We had no
buffalo-chips to build a fire — hence had to cut up
the bed of the mess-wagon.

90 A LONE STAR COWBOY
There we Avere afoot on these snowy plains, as
the pony staked out the evening before had pulled
up the stake-pin and drifted south with the hob
bled ponies. They were not found until late that
eA^ening, about ten miles from camp.
It was on this trip that I saw the piles of bones
from thousands of ponies killed by orders from
General McKinzie. They were at the head of
Tule Canyon, which empties into Canyon Pali-
duro. It was here that General McKinzie and his
United States soldiers rounded up the 7,000 Co
manche Indians, in 1874, when they broke away
from Ft. Sill, Indian Territory, on the war-path —
killing hundreds of white men.
The Indian ponies were shot and killed to pre-
A7ent another break on horse-back, the reds being
made to walk back to Ft. Sill.
One forenoon 3,000 Comanche Indians gaA^e us a
"scaring up," as we didn't know whether they
Avere on the war-path or not. On Mulberry Creek
they came pouring down the hills from the east
ward, on a gallop. We were completely surround
ed. The chief made inquiry about buffalos to the
westAvard. They were from Ft. Sill, Indian Ter
ritory, on a big buffalo hunt. The chief showed us
a letter from the commanding officer at Ft. Sill
stating that they were peaceable, and friendly to
ward the white men.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 91
Before reaching Ft. Elliot we ran into thous
ands of Cheyenne and Pawnee Indians on hunt
ing trips.
After an absence of several weeks we arrived
back at the LX ranch with a small bunch of steers.
About the last of March all the cowboys were
called in from the outside line-camps to pre
pare for the spring round-up.
Mr. Moore hired every renegade outlaw and
cowboy passing through the country for this big
spring round-up.
One evening before bed-time the sky became
red from a big prairie fire off to the south-east
ward. The fire was being driven by a strong south
east wind, down into the Canadian River Breaks,
from the Staked Plains.
Now the headquarter ranch became a busy
place. Saddle ponies were rounded up and a start
made for the big fire, by the dozens of cowboys.
In a swift gallop Moore led the crowd in the
pitchy darkness, over all kinds of rough places.
A ride of about fifteen miles brought us to the
fire. Then we became fire-fighters in dead
earnest. Large droves of cattle were running ahead of
the fire. Some of these largest animals were
shot and killed.
Then the carcasses were split open. Now two
coAvboys would fasten their ropes to each hind leg

92 A LONE STAR COWBOY
of the dead animal, and by the saddle-horn drag
it to the blaze.
If the fire was down in an arroya, where the
blue-stem grass grows tall, it was allowed to burn
its way onto a level flat covered with short buffalo
grass. Here the two cowboys dragging a carcass
would straddle the blaze — the one on the burnt
side close up, with his rope shortened, while the
other, on the hot smoky side, would be at the ex
treme end of his rope.
Now the wet carcass was dragged slowly along
the blaze. This would put out the fire, all but small
spots. These being whipped out by cowboys follow
ing afoot with wet saddle blankets, or pieces of
fresh cow-hide.
A few miles of dragging in a hot blaze would
wear a carcass into a frazzle. Then another ani
mal was killed to take its place.
Without a bite to eat, except broiled beef with
out salt, this strenuous work was kept up until
about three o'clock the following evening, when
the fire Avas under control, and our range saved.
We arrived back at the ranch about sun-down —
a smoky, dirty, tired and hungry crowd.
Soon after this fire excitement Mr. Moore lost
nearly half of his crew of cowboys. They "hit the
trail for tall timber," in New Mexico and Ari
zona — some on stolen ponies.
The cause of this cowboy outlaw stampede was
the arrival of E. W. Parker — now a respected

A LONE STAR COWBOY 93
citizen of El Paso, Texas — and his large, well
armed crew of Government Star-route mail sur-
ATeyors. But they kept their mission a secret,
hence the boys had them spotted as Texas Ran
gers in disguise.
A few months later the first mail route in the
Panhandle of Texas was established. It ran from
Ft. Elliot, Texas, to Las Vegas, New Mexico, a
distance of about three hundred miles. Our home
ranch was made Wheeler post-office.
Previous to this all our mail came from Ft.
Bascom, New Mexico, two hundred and twenty-
five miles west, on the upper Canadian River. It
came by private conveyance, and each letter sent,
or received, cost us twenty-five cents — neAvs-
papers the same.
By the middle of April our range Avas crowded
with buffalo again. They were migrating north.
But there was no great herd like the one going-
south in the early winter.
Not OArer half of the wooly beasts which went
south eArer returned. They had been slaughtered
for their hides, worth one dollar each, at the south
edge of the Llano Estacado. It was estimated
that, during the winter, there were 7,000 buffalo
hunters along the Texas Pacific Railway — then
building west to El Paso.
Now these buffalo were going north through
Kansas and Nebraska to their summer feeding

94 A LONE STAR COWBOY
ground in Dakota, to be killed by the northern
hunters. The following fall only a few scattering herds
passed through the Canadian River Breaks, on
their way south. Most of these met their doom
that winter by the southern hunters. Thus were
the millions of buffalo wiped from the face of the
earth in a few years.
About the middle of April Moore took all his
cowboys, about twenty-five with two well filled
mess-wagons, and went to Tascosa, there to meet
other outfits from different parts of the country.
Many of these cattle outfits came from the Arkan
sas River in southeastern Colorado, and south
western Kansas.
When we pulled out of Tascosa for the upper
Canadian River, there were dozens of mess-wag
ons, and hundreds of riders.
This gerenal round-up, the first ever pulled off
in the Texas Panhandle, started work near Ft.
Bascom, New Mexico, and continued down the
river almost to the Indian Territory line.
During the winter thousands of northern cattle
had drifted south and lodged in the Canadian
River Breaks. These were all driven north after
the general round-up.
While these round-up crews were at Tascosa,
that little burg saw the need of saloons and dance-
halls to relieve the wild and wooly cowboy of his
loose change. For the supply of liquors, sardines

A LONE STAR COWBOY 95
and crackers in Howard & Reinhart 's store melted
away like a snow-ball would if dropped into
Hades. In June, after the spring round-ups, our cattle
Avere all shoved onto the summer range, on Blue
Creek, north of the river.
I and another cowboy were placed at the ex
treme head of the Blue, to ride line. Our camp
was pitched at a spring.
Every morning and evening I had to ride
past a plum-thicket, which was a few miles west
of our camp, at the edge of which lay the bodies
of three murdered Mexican buffalo hunters. They
were badly swollen, and the sight of them made
me nervous.
Strange to relate these corpses were never de
voured by the many lobos and coyotes around
them. This fact convinces me that there is truth
in the theory that wolves won't eat a dead Mexi
can — possibly on account of his system being im
pregnated with chilli, (red peppers).
A short time previous, these three men were
murdered by Nelson and three companions, in or
der to get their ox-teams to haul buffalo hides to
Dodge City, Kansas.
These murderers were never arrested, as there
was no law in the country — and not a law-officer
nearer than Ft. Elliot.
While camped at the head of the Blue, several

96 A LONE STAR COWBOY
herds of "Jingle-bob" cattle passed near our
camp. These thousands of cattle had belonged to cattle
king John Chisum, of the Pecos River, in New
Mexico, until Colonel Hunter, of the firm of Hun
ter and Evans in southern Kansas, had played a
"Dirty Irish" trick on him.
In the early '70s John Chisum had bought
thousands of she cattle from the old battle-scar
red Confederate soldiers in middle Texas, giving
his notes as pay.
These cattle were driven across the Staked
Plains to the Horse-head crossing of the Pecos
river — thence up the river over two hundred miles
into New Mexico, where they were turned loose.
Then Mr. Chisum introduced fine-blooded short
horn bulls to breed out the long horns on these
Texas cattle.
The notes given by Chisum for these cattle were
finally outlawed, as they couldn't be collected in
New Mexico.
In the winter of 1877 and '78 Col. Hunter and
his flowing grey beard hiked from Medicine
Lodge, Kansas, to middle Texas and bought up
these outlawed notes for five and ten cents on the
dollar. These notes were tucked into a satchel, and in
the early spring of '78 taken to Las Vegas, New
Mexico, and placed in a bank.
Now Col. Hunter went overland down the Pecos

A LONE STAR COWBOY 97
to South Spring River, where Mr. Chisum had es
tablished his "Jingle-bob" headquarter ranch.
There a deal was made for about 20,000 head
of his picked cattle, at a fancy price.
Noav Jesse Evans, Col. Hunter's partner, went
to Dodge City, Kansas, and hired fifty fighting
cowboys to go to NeAV Mexico after these cattle.
As soon as the Chisum outfit got a herd "put
up" they were turned over to the Hunter and
Evans cowboys.
When the last herd was gathered, and headed
north-eastward, for the line of Texas, Col. Hunter
and John Chisum went OArerland to Las Vegas to
settle up.
Among cattle-men Col. Hunter's word was as
good as his bond, hence Mr. Chisum had no fear
about getting his pay.
The curtain of this "dirty Irish" play goes
down when, in the bank, the old satchel was open
ed and Mr. Chisum was paid for the cattle in his
own notes, with the years of accumulated interest.
As fast as a team could travel, John Chisum
Avent back to his ranch. Then he tried to make up
a fighting crowd to follow up these Hunter and
E\Tans herds, and recover them. He offered ' ' Billy
the Kid" and his warriors big inducements to do
the job, but they knew the Hunter and Evans
cowboys were armed to the teeth, and being al
ready over the line in Texas, they declined.
In the middle of June Mr. Moore sent for me

98 A LONE STAR COWBOY
to take charge of a herd of steers containing
2500 head. I was told to take them out onto the
south Staken Plains and fatten them. My crew
consisted of four riders, and a cook to drive the
mess-wagon, with five ponies to the man.
Soon after this three more herds of steers were
sent to the South Plains and I was put in charge
of the four herds. This made me feel of some im
portance. I had nothing to do but ride from one
camp to the other — sometimes twenty miles apart
— to see that the steers were kept on fresh range
so as to put on fat by the time cold weather set in.
The summer of 1878. was a wet one — hence the
"dry" lakes, or basins, were full of rain water.
During the summer Mr. David T. Beals paid me
a visit. He brought a young man, Burkley Howe,
from Massachusetts, and turned him over to me
to be taught the cow-business.
The first lesson I dished out to Burkley Howe
Avas on mustang meat.
I shot and killed a young mustang from a band
of 300 head. Then a young buffalo was killed.
Some of the meat from each animal was taken to
camp. I instructed the cook to prepare each kind
the same, but to have it in separate vessels.
When we squatted down on ihe grass to eat our
supper, the cook pointed out the vessel containing
the mustang meat, which in reality was the buf
falo meat. Of course the other boys had been
posted.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 99
Burkley Howe could not be induced to even
taste the horse meat. Instead he filled up on the
supposed buffalo beef, which he declared was the
finest he had ever eaten. When told of the trick,
after supper, he was mad all over, and tried to
vomit. This goes to show that the mind controls
the taste.
About the first of October 800 fat steers were
cut out of my four herds and started for Dodge
City, Kansas.
The balance of the steers being turned loose on
the winter range, along the Canadian river.
Now I secured permission from Mr. Moore to
overtake the fat steer herd and accompany them
to Chicago.
Mounted on my own pony, Whiskey-Pete, I
started in company with a cowboy named John
Farris. We kept on the Bascom trail.
After crossing the Cimarron river we saw a
band of about two hundred Indians, off to our
left, in a deep arroyo, traveling westward, single
file. Being hungry we concluded to gallop over
to them and get something to eat.
On seeing us coming they all bunched up and
showed great excitement. This didn't look good
to Ferris and me, so we galloped back to the
Bascom trail and continued north.
About sundown we reached Mead City, a new
town started a few months previous. Here there
Avere a half dozen new frame buildings, their in-

100 A LONE STAR COWBOY
sides being turned "topsy turvy," showing that
the Indians had run the occupants off and ran
sacked the dwellings. There were Indian moccasin
tracks everywhere.
Now we hurried on to the store, on Crooked
Creek, arrived there after dark. Here we found
the same conditions as at Mead City, showing
that the Indians had looted the store. Hearing
some ox-bells down the creek we rode to them,
about a mile distant. Here we found several yoke
of oxen and a log cabin, the door of which was
locked. Being hungry the lock on the door was broken,
and we entered. A playful puppy inside gave us a
hearty welcome.
After the lamps were lighted we found sacks
of grain for our tired ponies, and a cupboard full
of nice food.
Hanging over the still warm ashes in the fire
place was a pot of fresh beef stew. This proved
a treat, and we filled up to the bursting point.
About midnight we started on the last lap of
our 225 mile journey.
A twenty-five mile ride brought us to the tough
est town on earth, Dodge City.
It was now daylight, and the first man met on
the main street was Cape Willingham, who at this
writing is a prosperous cattle broker in El Paso,
Texas. Cape gave us our first news of the great Indian

A LONE STAR COWBOY 101
outbreak. He told of the many murders commit
ted by the reds south of Dodge City the day pre-
Adous — one man being killed at Mead City, and an
other near the Crooked Creek store.
Riding up the main street Ferris and I saAv
twenty-five mounted cowboys, holding rifles in
their hands, and facing one of the half dozen
saloons, adjoining each other, on that side of the
street. In passing this armed crowd one of them rec
ognized me. Calling me by name he said: "Fall
in line quick, h — 1 is going to pop in a few min
utes". We jerked our Winchester rifles from the scab
bards and fell in line, like most any other fool cow
boys would have done.
In a moment Clay Allison, the man-killer, came
out of one of the saloons holding a pistol in his
hand. With him was Mr. McNulty, owner of the
large Panhandle "Turkey-track" cattle outfit.
Clay, who Avas about half drunk, remarked to
the boys in line that none of the S  b 's were in
that saloon."
Then a search was made in the next saloon. He
was hunting for some of the town policemen, or
the city marshall, so as to wipe them off the face
of the earth. His twenty-five cowboy friends had
promised to help him clean up Dodge City.
After all the saloons had been searched Mr. Mc-

102 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Nulty succeeded in getting Clay to bed at the Bob
Wright Hotek Then we all dispersed.
Soon after, the city law-officers began to crawl
out of their hiding places, and appear on the
streets. Clay Allison had sworn to kill the first officer
found — and no doubt he would have done so.
I found Mr. Erskine Clement, a partner of Mr.
Beals, at the Wright Hotel, greatly worried over
the non-arrival of the steer herd, which Mr.
Moore had written him had started two Aveeks pre
vious. He was surprised when told that I had seen
no sign of them having come over the Bascom
trail. Telegrams kept pouring in from the west, of
the bloody deeds committed by the Indians, on
their Avay to Dakota. They were Northern Chey-
ennes, Avho had broken away from the Cheyenne
Agency in the Indian Territory.
That evening at the Wright Hotel I heard a
captain from Ft. Dodge, five miles east of Dodge
City, say that he would round up this tribe of
reds or leave his dead body on the ground. He
and his company of soldiers were waiting for a
west bound train. A week later he Avas killed in a
battle which took place.
In passing through western Nebraska these In
dians murdered many settlers. At one ranch-house
they captured a Avidow woman and her two daugh
ters. After a days march they turned the mother

A LONE STAR COWBOY 103
loose on the prairie, stark naked, keeping her two
daughters with them.
After much hardship this woman found the
cabin of a " fool hoe-man, ' ' who was living alone.
He wrapped the robe of Charity and his over
coat around her, and took her to civilization.
About midnight my chum, John Ferris, was
flat broke, and borrowed twenty-five dollars of
my accumulated wages, amounting to over $300.
He had in this short time "blowed in" his $114.00.
By morning he had borrowed $50.00 from the
livery man on his pony and saddle, and I had to
get these out of "soak" for him, before he could
hit the road again.
He went direct to Ft. Sumner, New Mexico,
where he was shot and killed by Barney Mason,
one of "Billy the Kid's" gang, and a brother-in-
law of the fearless New Mexico sheriff, Pat Gar
rett. The next morning after my arrival in Dodge
City, Erskine Clement and I struck south to look
up the lost herd of steers.
We found the outfit traveling up Crooked Creek
very slowly. They had quit the Bascom trail to
avoid long drives between watering places. This,
no doubt, had saved them from running into the
Indians. In Dodge City the herd was split in two, 400
head being put aboard of a train for Chicago. I

104 A LONE STAR COWBOY
went in charge of this first shipment, and Mr.
Clement followed with the next.
Two of the coAvboys went with me, one of them
being A. M. Melvin, who now, after forty years,
lives with a happy family at No. 11, Blackinton
Street, Orient Heights, East Boston, Mass.
Now for the first time in my life I became a
cow-puncher, carrying a lantern and a long pole
with a spike in the end, to keep the steers punched
up, when they got down in the crowded cars.
In a few years the name, Cow-puncher, became
attached to all cowboys.
At Burlington, Iowa, Ave crossed the Mississippi
River into Illinois, and there on the east bank of
the great river unloaded to feed the steers.
During our two days stay we three cow-punch
ers made a dozen or more trips on the ferry boat
to Burlington, a swift city. Our trips were free,
and everything in the way of liquor, cigars, meals,
candy, etc. bought in Burlington were free.
The fact of us wearing our cowboy outfits, in
cluding chaparejos, pistol and spurs may have
had something to do with the people refusing to
take money from us. But is was said that their
object was to encourage cattle-men to ship by way
of Burlington.
On the first night after leaAdng Burlington I
came within an ace of being ground to death by
the train. The thoughts of my narrow escape
cause my flesh to creep, eA^en to this day.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 105
A sleet storm Avas raging. The train stopped to
take on coal. We three cow punchers left the ca
boose and ran up towards the engine, peeping
through the cracks to see if any of the steers Avere
down. About the time we reached the engine the train
started. Then we climbed onto the first car and
started back to the caboose, on the run. I was in
the rear. In making a spring from the top of one
car to the other — the space between being about
two feet — my high-heel boots slipped on the icy
boards. There I lay flat on my back with my
head and shoulders over the open space. I had
grabbed the edge of the footplank with my right
hand. This is all that saved me from sliding down
between the cars.
Mr. Beals met us on our arrival in Chicago.
After unloading at the stock yards he took me to
dine with him at the Palmer House. He wanted
me to take a room in his hotel, but I told him that
the food and price, five to ten dollars a day, were
too rich for my blood. Therefore I went to the
Irvine House where the price was only $2.00 a
day. That night I turned myself loose in the toughest
part of the city, spending all the money I had,
about $200.00.
Towards daylight I managed to find my Avay
back to the Irvine House, where a nap was taken.
About ten a. m. I struck out for the Palmer

106 A LONE STAR COWBOY
House to borrow some money from Mr. Beals.
On the way there, while gazing up at the signs, I
saw the name of Dr. Bruer, Dentist. This put me
in mind of the teeth which needed filling, so up
the stairs I went, not realizing that my pockets
were empty of cash.
In the dentist office I found Mr. Bruer and his
handsome young lady assistant.
After seating myself in the dentist chair, the
doctor asked me what kind of filling I wanted for
the two teeth. I told him to fill them with gold.
In those days the filling had to be done by hand.
The doctor used the punch and the young lady the
mallet. They didn't stop for lunch. It was three
p. m. when the job was finished.
Now I got down off the chair, and for the first
time realized that I didn't have a cent to pay for
the work.
I asked the amount of my bill, and was told that
it was $45.00. I told the doctor that I would drop
around in the morning and pay him. He turned
pale, and so did his assistant. The large pistol
and bowie-knife buckled around my waist may
haA^e caused them to turn pale.
Finally the doctor asked the name of my hotel.
I told him. Then he said : ' ' Now you wont forget
to come up in the morning and pay me?" I an
swered him that he could depend upon it.
I found Mr. David T. Beals at the Palmer House
and borrowed $100.00. Then I started out to see

A LONE STAR COWBOY 107
more of the sights of a great city. But I took
the precaution to tuck the dentist's $45.00 down in
the watch pocket of my pants, so that it wouldn't
be spent."
The next morning at nine o'clock I was in the
dentist's office and paid OA^er the $45.00. The
doctor and his assistant were happily surprised.
The doctor had me go to lunch with him. Then
we spent the afternoon driving over the city in his
buggy, drawn by a fine pair of black horses.
We visited the water-works and climbed up to
the top of the tall, round tower, from the inside.
On reaching the top I looked over the edge, to the
ground below, just once. That was enough. I was
afraid the thing would topple over from my
weight. The dentist laughed at me, but he couldn 't
induce me to look over the edge again.
After the drive was over I hunted up Mr. Beals
to get more money for the night's sight-seeing.
I can look back now and see that I was an ' ' easy
mark" for the city people. Of course they knew
at a glance by my bowlegs and high-heel boots
where I was from, and they charged be according
ly, for what was purchased.
After a few days sight-seeing I boarded a train
for Dodge City, Kansas. Mr. Beals and Erskine
Clement accompanied me.
Shortly after leaving Chicago I became very
angry towards my employer, for not giving a poor
blind beggar some loose change.

108 A LONE STAR COWBOY
This old blind man had passed through our car
leaving each passenger a slip of poetry, to be re
turned if a donation was not given.
When the old man returned through the car
gathering up his little sheets of poetry, I waited
to se how much money Millionaire Beals would
give him. Not a cent did he give. This caused me
to boil over with rage, although nothing was said.
Reaching my hand in my pants pocket all the loose
change therein was grabbed and handed to the
poor blind beggar. It amounted to two or three
dollars. After the blind man had passed on, Mr. Beals
said : "You are foolish Charlie to throw your mon
ey away. That old cuss is rich. "You ask the con
ductor when he comes through about him." I did
so, and the conductor told me that this blind beg
gar lived in one of the swell residences of Chicago,
and was considered wealthy. This caused my
anger to flop from Mr. Beals to my own fool self.
On our way west Mr. Beals "harked back" to
his early life, telling me of how he struggled at a
shoe-makers bench, in Massachusetts, to accumu
late his first $500.00.
With this sum in his pocket he drifted to Dead-
wood, Dakota.
In a mining camp, across a range of mountains
from Deadwood, he opened a boot and shoe store,
ordering his stock of goods on credit, from his
home toAvn in the east.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 109
After one year in business, his profits footed
up $60.00. The next year it amounted to $60,000,
partly in gold dust. He then sold out the business
and walked with two hired men, carrying the gold
dust, to Salt Lake City, Utah, there taking a stage
coach for Denver, Colorado, where he located,
building the first iron-front store building ever
put up in Denver.
Arriving in Dodge City, Whiskey-Pete was
mounted early one morning for my 225 mile lonely
ride to the LX ranch.
I arrived at the headquarter ranch late in the
eATening. A crowd of strangers were playing cards under
a cottonwood tree near by. The cook informed me
that they were "Billy the Kid" and his Lincoln
County, New Mexico, warriors.
When the cook rang the supper bell these
strangers ran for the long table. After being in
troduced, I found myself seated by the side of
good-natured "Billy the Kid". Henry Brown,
Fred Waite and Tom O'Phalliard are the only
names of this outlaw gang that I can recall.
When supper was over I produced a box of fine
Havana cigars, brought from Chicago as a treat
for the boys on the ranch. They were passed
around. Then one was stuck into my new $10
meerschaum cigar holder, and I began to puff
smoke towards the ceiling.
Now "Billy the Kid" asked for a trial of my

110 A LONE STAR COWBOY
cigar-holder. This was granted. He liked it so
well that he begged me to present it to him, which
I did. In return he presented me with a finely
bound novel which he had just finished reading. In
it he wrote his autograph, giving the date that it
was presented to me.
During the next few weeks ' ' Billy the Kid ' ' and
I became quite chummy.
After selling out the band of ponies, which he
and his gang had stolen from the Seven River
warriors, in New Mexico, he left the Canadian
river country, and I never saw him again.
Two of his gang, Henry Brown, and Fred
Waite — a half-breed Chicasaw Indian — quit the
outfit and headed for the Indian Territory.
During his long stay around the LX ranch, and
Tascosa, "Billy the Kid" made one portly old
capitalist from Boston, Mass., sweat blood for a
few minutes.
Mr. Torey owned a large cattle ranch above
Tascosa. On arriving from the east he learned
that "Billy the Kid" and gang had made them
selves at home on his ranch, for a few days —
hence he gave the foreman orders not to feed
them, if they should make another visit. This or
der reached the "Kid's" ears.
While in Tascosa "Billy the Kid" saw old man
Torey ride up to the hitching rack in front of
Jack Ryan's saloon. He went out to meet him, and

A LONE STAR COWBOY 111
asked if he had ordered his foreman not to feed
them. Mr. Torey replied, yes, that he didn't want to
give his ranch a bad name by harboring outlaws.
Then the "Kid" jerked his Colts pistol and
jabbed the old man several times in his portly
stomach, at the same time telling him to say his
prayers, as he was going to pump him full of lead.
With tears in his voice Mr. Torey promised to
countermand the order. Then war Avas declared
off. Thus did Mr. Torey, a former sea captain, get
his eye-teeth cut in the ways of the wild and
wooly west.
This story was told to me by "Billy the Kid,"
and SteA^e Arnold, Avho was an eye witness to the
affair. But the "Kid" said he had no intention
of shooting Mr. Torey — that he just wanted to
teach him a lesson. CHAPTER VI.
AN ELEVEN HUNDRED MILE HORSEBACK
RIDE DOWN THE CHISHOLM TRAIL.
I BOSS A HERD OF STEERS "UP THE
TRAIL" FROM THE GULF COAST
OF TEXAS.
After laying around the home ranch a few
weeks Mr. Moore put me in charge of a scouting
outfit, to drift over the South Staked Plains, in

112 A LONE STAR COWBOY
search of any cattle which might have escaped
from the line-riders.
While on this trip I went to church several
times. A colony of Illinois Christians, under the lead
ership of the Reverend Mr. Cahart, had estab
lished the town of Clarendon, on the head of Salt
Fork, a tributary of Red River, and there built a
white church house among buffalo and wolves.
Clarendon is still on the map, being the county
seat of Donnely county, Texas.
When spring came I was called in from the
plains and put in charge of a round-up crew, con
sisting of a cook and twelve riders.
Our first round-up was on the Goodnight range,
at the mouth of Mulberry Creek. Here we had the
pleasure of a genuine cattle-queen's presence.
Mrs. Goodnight, a noble little woman, a dyed in
the wool Texan, whose maiden name was Dyer,
attended these roundups with her husband.
Mrs. Goodnight touched a soft spot in my heart
by filling me up on several occasions, with juicy
berries which she had gathered with her own-
hands. At this writing Mr. and Mrs. Charlie Goodnight
are still alive, and living in the town of Goodnight,
Texas, which has been made famous as the home
of the largest herd of buffalo in that state, and
possibly the AAdiole United States.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 113
The foundation of this herd of buffalo was
started on this round-up in the spring of 1879.
In the round-up at the head of Mulberry Creek
was a lone bnffalo bull. When ready to turn the
round-up cattle loose Mr. Buffalo was roped and
throAvn, and a cow-bell fastened to his neck. When
turned loose he stampeded, and so did the thous
ands of cattle.
In the round-up the following spring the bell-
buffalo was with the cattle, and had with him sev
eral female buffalos.
During that summer Mr. Goodnight fenced his
summer range on Mulberry Creek, and this small
herd of buffalo found themselves enclosed with
a strong barbed wire fence.
From what I was told Charlie Goodnight in
creased this buffalo herd by naving cowboys rope
young animals to be put inside the Mulberry
Creek fenced pasture.
Many years afterwards I rode through this
tame herd of buffalos, near the town of Good
night. We Avound up this spring round-up on the Rock
ing Chair range, at the mouth of McClellan Creek,
where I saw about 50,000 cattle in one bunch —
more than I had ever seen before in one band.
Now we returned to the home ranch with about
500 LX cattle, which had drifted away from the
range during the winter.
Shortly after our return Mr. Moore had us help

114 A LONE STAR COWBOY
him brand some large long-horn steers, late ar
rivals from South Texas.
We did the branding on the open plains, at
Amarillo Lake.
While roping and tying down these wild steers
we had great sport in seeing "Center-fire" sad
dles jerked over sideways from the pony's back,
the riders with them.
Mr. Moore had got his cowboy training in Cali
fornia, where they use "center-fire", high horn
saddles, and riatas, (ropes) which they wrap
around the saddle-horn when roping on horse
back. The cinchas on these saddles being broad.,
and in the center of the saddle, which makes it dif
ficult to keep the saddle tight on the pony's back
Mr. Moore had persuaded many of his cowboys
to use these saddles and the long rawhide " ria
tas " — hence a large order had been sent to Cali
fornia in the early spring. In the order were
many silver mounted spurs and Spanish bridle
bits. I sent for one of these ten dollar bridle bits,
and am still using it to ride with.
I must confess that Moore never got a fall from
his "center-fire" saddle, as he had learned his
lesson early in life. He was also an expert roper
with his 75-foot "riata." He could throw the
large loop further and catch his animal oftener
than any man in the crowd of about twenty-five
riders. Moore tried his best to persuade me, and such

A LONE STAR COWBOY 115
Texas raised cowboys as Jim East, Steve Arnold
and Lee Hall, not to tie our 30-foot ropes hard
and fast to the saddle horns when roping large
steers. He argued that it was too dangerous. No
doubt he was right, but we had been trained that
way. Later poor Lee Hall was gored to death by a
A\ild steer, roped down in the Indian Territory.
The steer had jerked his mount over backward,
and one of his spurs caught in the flank cinch,
preventing him from freeing himself until too late
to save his life.
The spur which hung in the cinch and caused
his death, was one of the fine silver mounted pair
Avhich Moore sent to California for.
After his death I fell heir to Lee Hall's spurs
and they are used by me to this day, over 40 years
later. In the latter part of June Mr. Moore put me
in charge of 800 fat steers for the Chicago mark
et. My outfit consisted of a well filled mess-
wagon, a cook and five riders.
We headed for Nickerson, Kansas, on the Ar
kansas River, across .country through No-Mans-
Land — now the 30 mile strip of Oklahoma which
butts up against New Mexico on the west, and on
the north is bordered by Kansas and Colorado,
the Texas Panhandle being the south border.
Late in the fall we arrived in Nickerson,

116 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Kansas, and turned the steers over to "Deacon"
Bates. Leaving Whiskey-Pete and a Missouri mare,
which I had traded for, with a "fool hoe-man,"
five miles south of town, "Jingle-bob" Joe Har-
graves and I started Avest across country to meet
another herd of fat steers.
As the snow had begun to fly it was thought
best to turn this herd towards Dodge City, Kan
sas — hence we being sent to pilot the outfit to
Dodge City.
While on this lonely ride I came within an ace
of "passing in my checks." We ran out of grub
and for supper one night filled up on canned
peaches, without anything else to eat with them.
All night these juicy peaches held a war-dance in
the pit of my stomach, and before daylight I was
all in. "Jingle-bob" Joe wanted me to pray, but
I told him that I would wait a little longer, in
hopes that I might pull through.
Joe Hargraves was not much on the pray him
self, but I believe he has a passport to heaven for
one kindly act done the winter previous. He was
on his way to Dodge City, over the Bascom trail,
when he stopped for the night on the Cimarron
River, where a short time previous a small store
had been established.
The next morning a "fool hoe-man" and his
hungry and ragged family drove up in a covered

A LONE STAR COWBOY 117
wagon drawn by two skinny ponies. They were
half starved and didn't have a cent of money.
"Jingle-bob" Joe asked the store man what he
Avould take for all the goods in his place. He set
the price at $150.00, which was accepted. Then
the goods were loaded into the "hoeman's" wa
gon, and he drove off singing "Home, Sweet
Home ' '. He was looking for a free home to settle
on. We finally found the steer outfit and turned
them towards Dodge City. There the fat steers
were put aboard two trains, and I took charge of
one train, thus taking my second lesson in cow-
punching, with a spiked pole and lantern.
As on the former trip the steers were unloaded
across the Mississippi River from Burlington.
Iowa, and fed.
In the city of Burlington we punchers were
treated royally. None of the candy and ice-cream
merchants would take a penny from us. Every
thing in that line was free.
On arriving in Chicago Mr. Beals met us. Then
at the Palmer House Mr. Beals settled up my
wage and expense account. With a few hundred
dollars in my pocket I started out to see the
sights again.
I had told Mr. Beals of my intention to quit his
outfit and spend the winter in Southern Texas.
He agreed that if I concluded to go back to work
for the XL company in the spring, he would ar-

118 A LONE STAR COWBOY
range for me to boss a herd of steers up the trail.
Said he had already contracted with Charlie Word
of Goliad, Texas, for two herds to be dehvered on
the LX Ranch.
A couple of days and nights sight-seeing put me
almost "on the bum", financially. Then a train
was boarded for Nickerson, Kansas.
Whiskey-Pete and the bay mare were found hog
fat. The "fool hoe-man" had shoved corn to
them with a scoop shovel.
After purchasing a pack-saddle, and some grub,
I had just six dollars in cash left to make my elev
en hundred mile journey down the Chisholm trail
to the gulf coast of Texas.
Puck was not far off when he wrote: "What
fools these mortals be." For here was a fool
cowboy starting out to ride eleven hundred miles,
just to be in the saddle, and to get a pony back
home. On the way down the trail I kept myself sup
plied with cash by swapping saddles, pack pony,
watches, and running races with Whiskey-Pete,
who was hard to beat in a three hundred yard
race. At one place in middle Texas I laid OA-er a
couple of days to rest my ponies, and to make a
few dollars picking cotton.
One morning I was sent out by the farmer,
with a bunch of bare-footed girls, to pick cotton
in a field which had already been picked OArer.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 119
These young damsels gave me the "horse-laugh"
for my awkwardness in picking the snowy balls of
cotton. When night came I had earned just thirty cents,
while the girls had made more than a dollar each.
This was my last stunt as a cotton picker.
On Pecan Creek, near Denton, I put up one
night at the home of old man Murphy — the father
of Jim Murphy, who was a member of the Sam
Bass gang of train robbers, and whose name is
mentioned in the Sam Bass song, which was a
favorite with trail cowboys.
The old Chisholm trail was lined with negroes,
headed for Topeka and Emporia, Kansas, to get
a free farm and a span of mules from the state
government. Over my pack there was a large buffalo robe,
and on my saddle hung a fine silver-mounted
Winchester rifle. These attracted the attention
of those green cotton-field negroes, who wore me
out asking questions about them.
Some of these negroes were afoot, while others
drove donkeys and oxen. The shiny black chil
dren and half-starved dogs were plentiful. Many
of the outfits turned back when I told them of the
cold blizzards and deep snow in Kansas.
My eleven hundred mile journey ended at the
old Rancho Grande headquarter ranch, after being
on the trail one month and twelve days.
The balance of the winter was spent on hunting

120 A LONE STAR COWBOY
trips after deer and wild hogs, and visiting
friends throughout the county of Matagorda.
Early in the spring I mounted Gotch, a pony
traded for, and bidding Whiskey-Pete goodbye, he
being left with my chum, Horace Yeamans, we
headed for Goliad to meet Charlie Word. He was
found near Beeville, thirty miles west of Goliad,
putting up a herd of long-horn steers for the LX
company. He had received a letter from Mr.
David T. Beals telling him to put me in charge
of one of the herds.
This first herd was to be bossed "up the trail"
by Liash Stevens.
The outfit was up to their ankles in sticky mud,
in a large round corral, putting the road-brand on
the steers, when I found them. I pitched in and
helped, and Avas soon covered with mud from head
to feet. Each steer had to be roped and thrown
afoot, which made it a disagreeable job in the
cold drizzling rain. And to finish out the days
work, after my thirty mile ride from Goliad, I
stood guard over the steers until after midnight.
Mr. Word had just purchased a band of "wet"
ponies from old Mexico, and I showed my skill in
riding some of the wildest ones.
One large iron-grey gelding, which the Mexi
cans said A\Tas a man-killer, broke my cinchas and
dumped me and the saddle into the mud. Then he
pawed the saddle with his front feet until it was
ruined. I had to buy a new saddle to finish break-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 121
ing this man-killing broncho. But he proved to
be a dandy cow pony when tamed.
After the herd had been road-branded and
turned OA^er to Mr. Stevens and his creAv of trail
cowboys, Charlie Word asked me to help him get
the herd started on the trail.
Our first night out proved a strenuous one. Mr.
SteArens had taken a fool notion to arm his cow
boys Avith bulls-eye lanterns, so that they could
see the location of each other on dark nights. He
had ordered a few extra ones and insisted on me
trying one that night, which I did.
About ten o'clock a severe storm came up and
we Avere all in the saddle ready for a stampede.
While I was running at break-neck speed, to
reach the lead of the herd, my pony went head
over heels 0A7er a rail fence. The light from the
lantern had blinded him, so that he failed to see
it in time.
The pony was caught and mounted, and the new
fangled bulls-eye lantern was left on the ground.
Strange to relate, this lantern is prized today
as a souvenir of bygone days. It was picked up
next day by a young rancher, Avho, at this writing-
lives near Kingston, Sierra County, New Mexico.
I finally reached the lead of the herd, and from
that time 'till daylight it was one stampede after
another. Daylight found young Glass and me alone with
about half the herd of 3700 head. We were jammed

122 A LONE STAR COWBOY
into the foot of a lane, down which the cattle had
drifted during the last hour of darkness.
This lane was built with five strands of new
barbed wire, and was cut off by a cross fence.
Here the herd AA^as jammed together so tightly that
it was impossible to ride to the rear.
There we had to wait and pray that another
stampede wouldn't start while hemmed in on three
sides by a high wire fence. A stampede would
have, no doubt, sent us to the happy hunting
ground. v
It required two days hard work to gather up
steers lost during the night. They had become
mixed up with range cattle.
In that camp the price of bulls-eye lanterns took
a tumble. It was almost impossible to give one
away. After the herd was strung out again on the trail
I went to Goliad to meet Charlie Word.
Here he made up a crew of twelve riders, a cook
and mess-wagon, with five ponies to the rider,
and turned them over to me. With this crew I
drifted northwesterly to the crooked-street, strag
gling town of San Antonio, — now one of the lead
ing cities of Texas.
In San Antonio we had all of our ponies shod,
as we were going into a rocky country.
When out of San Antonio about fifty miles a
bucking broncho "busted" a blood vessel in my
bread basket. Being in great misery, and unable

A LONE STAR COWBOY 123
to sit up straight in the saddle, I concluded to
ride back to the Alamo City and consult that great
German doctor, Herff. The crew were instructed
to lay over until my return.
In San Antonio I made inquiry as to where
Doctor Herff could be found.
Riding up to a large, old-fashioned, stone resi
dence I found this noted doctor — more than ninety
years of age — hoeing in his garden. He informed
me that he had turned his practice over to. his son.
I found Dr. Herff, Jr. living in a fine two-story
stone mansion. He laid me on a couch and ex
amined the seat of pain. He pronounced a blood
vessel stretched out of shape, so that the blood
was not flowing through it — hence the great pain.
He told me to go back to camp, and on rising
every morning, for a couple of weeks, to drink all
the water I could possibly hold, and then, im
mediately afterwards, to drink that much more.
He said this was all the medicine I needed. His
charge was fifty cents for the examination and
advice. The next morning after reaching camp I took
a half-gallon coffee-pot down to the creek and fil
ling it drank it empty. It seemed impossible to
drink any more, but by a great effort the coffee
pot was emptied again.
After the first morning it was no trick at all
to drink a gallon of water at one sitting.
In a few days I was completely cured, and the

124 A LONE STAR COWBOY
memory of Doctor Herff and his half-dollar fee
will stay with me to the grave.
Now we continued the journey up the Llano
River. On reaching Kimble County we laid over in a
new village called Junction City, now the prosper
ous seat of governmetn of Kimble county, to lead
up our mess-Avagon with grub, etc.
Further up the river we came to the end of our
journey, at the Joe, and Creed Taylor ranches.
We established camp on Paint Creek, in a veiy
rough, rocky country.
Charlie Word had bought 2500 head of cattle
from Joe Taylor, and it was our duty to gather
them from this range.
Mr. Creed Taylor had raised a son, "Buck"
who was a reckless, daredevil. He was buried with
his boots on — that is, shot and killed.
In the beginning of the '70s, around Quero, in
Victoria County, Texas, a bloody feud raged be
tween the Taylor and Sutton gangs.
In one of their bloody battles in the town of
Quero, it was reported that nine men were killed.
About thirty-five years later I tried to obtain
the truth of this report.
In the little city of Las Cruces, NeAv Mexico,
lives one of these noted feudists. He is a highly
respected banker and cattle raiser. It is said that
he lay in jail, on account of the Taylor-Sutton

A LONE STAR COWBOY 125
fued, seven long years before being freed by the
higher courts.
About the year 1914 I happened to be in Las
Cruces, and concluded to find out the truth about
this bloody battle in Quero.
I was stopping at the Park Hotel, owned by the
president of the First National Bank of that town.
This gentleman had been brought up in the neigh
borhood of Quero, and believed the story was cor
rect, about nine men being killed in one battle,
when the Taylor and Sutton gangs met. This
didn't satify me, so I told the gentleman that I
was going to visit this noted feudist at his bank
and find out the truth.
He advised me not to do it, as it would result
in me being kicked out of the bank, if I mentioned
the subject.
On walking into the feudist's bank, he met me
with out-stretched hand, and conducted me to his
private desk in the rear.
I introduced myself as an early day Texas cow
boy who had worked for "Shanghai" Pierce. He
knew "Shanghai" well, and had much to say in
his favor.
After we had talked about different subjects, I
finally said : ' ' Oh, by the way, is it true that there
were nine men killed in Quero one night when the
Taylor and Sutton crowds met?"
In all my long life I never saw a man change so
suddenly from a smiling, good-natured man to a

126 A LONE STAR COWBOY
scowling demon. His black eyes shot sparks of
fire and he straigntened up in his chair, striking
the desk with his fist, saying: "You bet it is true,
we killed them knee-deep that night!"
Just then three men came into the bank and
told Mm to hurry up, as they were waiting for
him. Here he begged my pardon for having to leave
me, but he said he had to go out in the country
to look at some cattle.
When he uttered the above expression I felt re
lieved, for it seemed that he was getting ready to
kick me out of the bank.
I met the gentleman many times afterwards,
but never alone, so as to renew the subject.
About the same time that the Taylor-Sutton
feud was raging, there was another bloody feud
being enacted in Jackson and Colorado counties,
between the Stafford and Townsend gangs.
"Tuck" Townsend was the leader on one side and
Bob Stafford on the other.
Bob Stafford was a wealthy cattle owner, of
Columbus, on the Colorado river.
Only a few of Bob Stafford's warmest friends
knew the secret of how he became crippled in the
left hand. It happened thus :
Stafford was riding along the road on a skit
tish horse. On the ground near by sat a twelve
year old German boy eating his noonday lunch.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 127
Near by grazed his small band of sheep, which he
was herding.
The boy's dog ran out and scared Mr. Staf
ford's mount. Then he drew his pistol and killed
the dog.
Now the boy sprang to his feet, and pulling his
powder and ball pistol, opened fire on Stafford,
Avho at once began shooting at the boy. But hi.-;
horse jumping around made his aim untrue.
Bob Stafford had emptied his pistol, while the
boy had only shot twice, and was taking aim for
the third shot.
Here Stafford threw up his right hand, which
held the pistol, saying: "Don't shoot, I'm
empty. ' '
The boy replied: "Alright, load up." Then he
squatted down on the ground, and taking his pow
der horn from his shoulder proceeded to load the
two empty chambers of his six-shooter.
Stafford replied, as he rode away: "No, I've
got enough ! ' ' He was wounded, in the left hand
from one of the boy's shots.
Later Mr. Stafford rewarded the boy for his
cool bravery.
Now, on the Creed and Joe Taylor range, we be
gan gathering 2500 head of wild cattle. It was the
hardest job of my life, working from daylight
'till dark, and then standing night-guard half the
night. As a rule bosses don't stand guard at night, ex-

128 A LONE STAR COWBOY
cepting when there is danger of a stampede. But
in order to keep my crew in a good humor I took
my regular turn. The boys were worn out, and
Avere almost on the eve of striking, from having to
work twenty-six hours out of every twenty-four,
as they expressed it.
Finally we got the herd ' ' broke in, ' ' and started
' ' up the trail, ' ' but not ' ' up the Chisholm trail, ' '
which lay to the eastward about 100 miles.
During that spring of 1880 the Chisholm trail
was impassible for large herds, as "fool hoe-men"
had squatted all over it, and were turning its hard
packed surface into ribbons with plows.
When about fifty miles west of Ft. Worth,
Charlie Word, who had come around by rail, drove
out in a buggy to see how we were getting along,
and to supply me with more expense money.
At Doan's store, on Red River, we found Liash
Stevens waiting for us. We swapped herds, as it
had been decided to drive the herd I was with up
into Wyoming.
I arrived at the LX ranch with 3700 head of
steers on the first day of July.
Now part of my crew were paid off, and with
the balance, six riders, I took the herd onto the
South Staked Plains to fatten the steers.
Shortly afterwards I rode into Tascosa, and
saw the great changes which had taken place since
my last visit, a year previous.
Now there were three saloons and two dance-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 129
halls running full blast. Also the foundation laid
for a new Court House.
The county of Oldham, with Tascosa as the
County-seat, had been organized, and twelve unor
ganized counties attached to Oldham County.
My cowboy friend, Cape Willingham, had been
appointed sheriff of these thirteen counties.
One of the first things I did after riding into
Tascosa was to step into Mr. Turner's restaurant
to see his pretty daughter, Miss Victoria Turner.
I was not hungry, but to have the pleasure of this
pretty miss waiting on me I was ordering all the
good things in the restaurant. Just then a gang of
cowboys came charging through the main street
shooting off pistols.
As this was no uncommon thing for a live cow-
town, I didn't even get up from the table.
In a moment Sheriff Willingham came running
into the cafe with a double-barrel shot-gun in his
hand. He asked me to help him arrest some drun
ken cow-boys who had just dismounted and gone
into Jack Ryan's saloon, near by.
Just as Ave reached the Ryan saloon these cow
boys came out. One of them sprang onto his horse.
when the sheriff told him to throw up his hands.
Instead of throwing up his hands he drew his pis
tol. Then Willingham planted a charge of buck
shot in his heart, and he tumbled to the ground
dead. The dead cowboy was the one the sheriff was af-

130 A LONE STAR COWBOY
ter, as he had seen him empty his pistol at a flock
of ducks, which a lady was feeding out of her hand,
as she sat in a door-way.
In galloping down the street this cowboy re
marked to his companions: "Watch me kill some
of those ducks." He killed them alright, and the
woman fainted.
These nine cowboys had just arrived "up the
trail" with a herd of long-horn cattle, and were
headed for the north. For fear they might make a
raid on him that night, which they threatened to
do, the sheriff had me stay with him till morning.
Thus did Tascosa bury her first man with his
boots on, which gave her the reputation of being
a genuine cow-town.
'• From now on Tascosa 's "Boot-hill" cemetery
began to show new-made graves. The largest kill
ing in one night being six. At that time my cow
boy friend, James H. East, now a well-to-do citi
zen of Douglas, Arizona, was sheriff. He held the
office for four terms, and helped to lay many wild
and wooly cowboys under the sod, with their
boots on.
Before the court house and jail were finished
Tascosa had a bad murder case to try. The Dis
trict Judge, and attorney, came from Mobeta to
try the case.
Jack Ryan was foreman of the jury, and the
upstairs part of his saloon was selected as the
jury room.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 131
When the prisoner's case Avas finished the jury
were locked up over the saloon.
About midnight Jack Ryan and some of the
jury men were holding out for murder in the first
degree. About that time Frank James, Ryan's gambling
partner, got a ladder and climbed up to the out
side window of the jury-room. He then called for
Ryan, and told him that there was a big poker
game going on in the saloon, and that he needed
$300.00. Jack gave him the money from the bank-roll,
which he carried in his pocket, at the same time
telling him to keep the game going until he could
get down there, and take a hand.
Now Ryan called the jury men together and
told them about the big poker game down in the
saloon. He said it was necessary for him to be
there and help Frank James out — hence he had
come to the conclusion that the prisoner was in
nocent, and had no evil intentions of murdering
his victim.
In a few moments Ryan had the few stubborn
jury-men on his side, and the prisoner was declar
ed innocent. At least this is the story told to me by
men who claimed to know the facts of the case.
This added another laurel to Tascosa 7s brow as a
wide-open cow-town.
The following year Tascosa put on city airs by
the arrival of a young lawyer by the name of Lu-

132 A LONE STAR COWBOY
cius Dills, who hung out a shingle as Attorney at
Law. During that fall the first election of Oldham
County was held and Mr. Dills was elected the
first County Judge. He was appointed District
Attorney for the whole Panhandle district, com
prising twenty-four counties, before his term as
judge expired. Then he tore down his shingle as
Attorney at Law, and moved to Mobeta, thus Tas
cosa lost her first lawyer.
In the spring of 1885 Mr. Lucius Dills quit the
Panhandle country and moved to Lincoln County,
New Mexico, finally settling down in Roswell as
editor of the Roswell Record. Here he married the
lovely daughter of Judge Frank Lea, Miss Ger
trude, and at the present writing has two pretty
daughters. He is now Surveyor General for the
State of New Mexico, and lives in Santa Fe,
where his friends are counted by the hundreds.
CHAPTER VII.
"BILLY THE KID'S" CAPTURE.
I ESCAPED ASSASSINATION BY A
SCRATCH.
About the first of September my steer herd was
turned loose on the winter range. Then we started
out to brand calves.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 133
When the branding season was over Moore sent
me onto the South Plains in charge of a scouting
crew. A month later a runner hunted me up to deliver
a letter from Moore. In this letter I was instruc
ted to turn the outfit over to James McClaugher-
ty, and to bring three of my picked fighting cow
boys with me to the headquarter ranch.
I selected James H. East, Lee Hall and Cal
Polk as the fighting men.
On arriving at the ranch Moore outfitted me for
a trip to NeAV Mexico after "Billy the Kid," and
LX cattle which he and his gang had been steal
ing. I finally started up the river with four large
mules hitched to a heavy mess-wagon, with Fran
cisco as driver and cook. My fighting crew con
sisted of five men: Big-foot Wallace, (Frank
Clifford) Jim East, Cal Polk, Lon Chambers and
Lee Hall.
In Tascosa we were joined by the Littlefield
creAv, in charge of Bob Roberson. He had a mess-
wagon, a cook, and five riders.
We started out with only one horse apiece, with
the exception of myself; I had two.
As corn was scarce it was thought best to buy
more horses if we should need them.
On reaching San Lorenzo, New Mexico, I board
ed a buck-board to Las Vegas, to buy a supply of
corn, grub and ammunition, giving the outfit in-

134 A LONE STAR COWBOY
structions to lay over in Anton Chico, on the Pecos
river, until I got there.
I found Las Vegas to be a swift dance-hall town,
and the first night of my arrival I went broke,
playing monte — a Mexican game. I blowed in all
my expense money, about $300, and about $100
which Bob Roberson had given me to buy ammuni
tion and grub.
A big-hearted merchant by the name of Hou-
ton, or Van Houton, gave me the goods I needed,
he taking orders on the LX company for pay.
On reaching Anton Chico with the wagon load
of supplies, I learned that "Billy the Kid" and
gang had slipped into town one night and stolen
some fresh horses. They had come from the White
Oaks country, to the south-westward.
We finally pulled out for White Oaks, and the
next morning early, Pat Garrett, the sheriff of
Lincoln County, New Mexico, rode into our camp.
He said he was making up a crowd to go doAvn
the Pecos river in search of "Billy the Kid" and
gang. After consulting together, Bob Roberson and I
decided to furnish Garrett part of our crew. Hence
I turned over to him Lee Hall, Jim East, and Lon
Chambers. Roberson loaned him Tom Emory and
Louis Bozeman, Frank Stewart also joined Pat
Garrett, he being his own boss and not subjeet to
Roberson 's orders.
In Anton Chico, Pat Garrett picked up a few of

A LONE STAR COWBOY 135
his own men, his brother-in-law, Barney Mason be
ing one of them. They then started down the
Pecos river.
In the Mexican village of Puerto de Luna, Gar
rett proved his bravery. A drunken Mexican en
emy fired a shot at him from the open door of a
saloon, Garrett remarked that he didn't want to
kill the fellow, so he would just break his right
arm. This he did with a well aimed shot.
Roberson and I struck out for White Oaks in a
raging snow storm.
When within a days ride of White Oaks we came
to the still smoking ruins of the Jim Greathouse.
road-ranch, a saloon and store.
Here a posse from White Oaks, under the lead
ership of deputy-sheriff Jim Carlyle, fought a
battle, a few days previous, with "Billy the Kid"
and his gang.
While the posse had the gang surrounded in
the Greathouse ranch, Jim Carlyle went in to
have a talk with the "Kid."
For an hour or more the gang held Carlyle a
prisoner, waiting for darkness to come so they
could make their escape. They made him drink
with them at the bar, every time they took a drink.
Finally Jim Carlyle jumped through a window
to make his escape. As he sprang through the win
dow the "Kid" shot him. He fell on the outside
and began craAvling away. Then the "Kid" killed
him with another shot from his pistol.

136 A LONE STAR COWBOY
In the darkest part of the night the gang made
a break for liberty, and escaped.
The next day the posse set fire to the ranch, as
it had become a rendezvous for outlaws.
In following the gang's trail through the snow
they came to the Spence ranch, where the gang
bad eaten breakfast.
Now the posse burnt up Mr. Spencer's buildings
for feeding them.
By tramping all that day and part of the night
the "Kid" gang reached Anton Chico, where they
stole horses and saddles, while my outfit was
there waiting for me to return from Las Vegas.
We arrived in the new mining camp of White
Oaks in a seArere snow storm.
For a week we camped out in the open with the
snow nearly two feet deep, then we rented a build
ing to live in.
Two of the leading merchants. Mr. Whiteman,
and Mr. Sweet, gave us unlimited credit for grub
and horse feed. We concluded to make this our
headquarters until Pat Garrett and crowd were
heard from. He had felt sure that he would find
"Billy the Kid" and gang down on the Pecos
river. White Oaks was only a year old, but she con
tained over a thousand population, mostly ven
turesome men from all parts of the land, who
flocked there after the first find of rich gold ore.
An outlaw by the name of Wilson had put

A LONE STAR COWBOY 137
White Oaks on the map by stumbling onto a rich
gold lead. He was making his get-away from
Texas law officers, and cut across the county of
Lincoln, New Mexico.
At White Oaks spring his pony played out, and
seeing a smoke from a cabin three miles down the
gulch he headed for it.
This cabin proved to be the home of two old
California placer miners, Jack Winters, and John
Wilson. They were washing gold out of the bed of
Baxter Gulch, and hauling water on burros from
White Oaks Spring.
The ground was rich in gold, and they generally
took the gold dust to Lincoln, the county seat of
Lincoln County, every Saturday, returning to
Baxter Gulch on Mondays.
These two old prospectors gave outlaw Wilson
permission to make himself at home in their cabin
until his pony rested.
On the day after his arrival, after eating dinner,
Wilson started out to walk to the top of Baxter
Mountain, to view the surrounding country. He
took a pick on his shoulder, telling the old pros
pectors that he might find a gold mine.
When half way up the high mountain, Wilson
sat down on a boulder to rest. While resting he be
gan to chip pieces off this quartz boulder.
When ready to proceed on his journey he picked
up a large chip from this boulder, and seeing
specks of yellow in it, he stuck it in his pocket.

138 A LONE STAR COWBOY
It was almost dark when he got back to the
cabin. Jack Winters was cooking flap-jacks for
supper, on the sheet-iron stove. As a joke he ask
ed Wilson if he' had found a gold mine. He replied
that he had found a rock with specks of yelloAv in
it. He then handed Winters the chip from his
pocket. One glance at the rock sent Winters up in the
air with a yell. This brought John Wilson out of
his slumber, then he, too, became excited.
It required a lot of persuasion to get Wilson to
go back up the mountain and show them the
boulder from which this chip was broken. His ar
gument being that he was worn out from his long
tramp, and that the boulder would be there in the
morning. Finally the three started up the mountain side
with lantern and location stakes, the flap-jacks
being left on the stove to burn up.
On reaching the boulder, other similar quartz
boulders were found further up the mountain,
finally, by the light from the lantern, the quartz
lead about three feet wide, was discovered. In
picking into it wires of free gold were discovered.
Now the two old prospectors wrote out location
notices on the stakes brought along. Wilson was
asked his full name, so that he could be put in as
a third owner. But he told them to locate it for
themselves, as he had no use for a gold mine.
Therefore two full claims, each 1500 feet in length

A LONE STAR COWBOY 139
and 600 feet in width, Avere located, running north
and south, they being named the North Home-
stake, and the South Homestake, Winters claimed
the former and John Wilson the latter.
It was midnight when the three tired and hun
gry men returned to the cabin, and finished the
flap- jack operation.
In a few days outlaw Wilson mounted his
rested pony, and headed north-westward for the
adobe village of Albuquerque, on the Rio Grande
River, a distance of about 140 miles. He was pre
sented with an old pistol and 9 silver dollars, all
the cash in camp, when he started.
Shortly after his departure officers from Texas
arrived on Wilson's trail, but whether they ever
OATer-took him is a question, as he had several days
the start.
Shortly before our arrival in White Oaks, Jack
Winters and John Wilson had sold the North and
South Homestake to a St. Louis Company — each
receiving $300,000 for their rich claims.
During one of his sober spells Jack Winters
told me the story as outlined above.
This sudden fortune was too much for poor old
Winters. Whiskey killed him within a year. In the
last days of his life he gave a young lady — Miss
B — $20,000 to care for him until he died.
Soon after the discovery of the Homestake
mines two other rich leads were located at the
foot of Baxter Mountain. One of them being the

140 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Old Abe, and the other the Little Mack. The lat
ter Avas secured in its infancy by Mr. Geo. W.
Prichard, now one of the leading lawyers of Santa
Fe, New Mexico, and the Old Abe by Mr. John Y.
Hewett, still a citizen of White Oaks.
Within a few years Mr. Hewett and his asso
ciates took out over $1,000,000 from the Old Abe
gold mine, the shaft now being down into the bow
els of the earth over 1000 ft., and as dry as a bone,
no water having been struck, which is something
unusual. Previous to our arrivel in White Oaks two
cowboys had a duel with pistols in the Bill Hudg-
ins Pioneer Saloon.
After the shooting was OA^er Joe Fowler ran
into the saloon and asked the bar-keeper who fired
those shots. He pointed to the cowboy lying in
one corner of the saloon, badly wounded, as one
of the shooters. Then Joe Fowler pulled his pis
tol and shot the wounded cowboy dead. He then
made up a crowd and followed the other one to
White Oaks Springs, where they hung him to a
tree. A few years later Joe Fowler was hanged by a
vigilance committee, in the town of Socorro, New
Mexico. Fowler had just sold out his ranch and cattle in
Socorro County, for $50,000 and was in Socorro on
a spree. While on this spree he stabbed one of his
own cowboys to death. A short time previous he

A LONE STAR COWBOY 141
had killed Jim Greathouse, (the man whose road
house had been burnt by the White Oaks posse
after the battle with "Billy the Kid") with a shot
gun, while he lay in bed.
This vigilante crowd allowed Fowler to have
a fair jury trial. He had employed Tom Catron,
and Thornton, of Santa Fe, to defend him.
When the jury brought in a verdict of guilty the
Adgilantes hung Fowler to a tree.
Before coming to New Mexico Joe Fowler own
ed a small cattle ranch in western Texas. He sold
out to a friend of mine, now living in Alamogordo,
New Mexico.
Soon after purchasing the ranch the new owner
dug a ditch near the well, to put in a pipe line.
In doing so the bodies of several men were dug
up — victims, no doubt, of FoAvlers murderous
instinct. At midnight our crowd ushered in the new year
of 1881, in front of our picket shack. Each man
emptied a Winchester rifle and a six-shooter in
rapid succession. This being done to frighten the
citizens of White Oaks, as we figured that they
Avould think "Billy the Kid" had struck town. He
had shot up the town a short time previous.
Our guess was correct for it caused a regular
stampede out of the saloons and billiard-hall. The
town marshal, "Pinto Tom," was playing bil
liards when the shooting began. He dropped his
cue and broke for the back door, and took to the

142 A LONE STAR COWBOY
tall timber on the side of Carrizozo Mountain. It
was noon next day when he returned. We had a
man watching "Pinto Tom" to see what his ac
tions would be.
Bob Roberson and I kept the neighbors around
our shack supplied with fresh beef. A large steer
would be dressed and hung up in a tree near by.
The neighbors would help themselves to this stol
en beef — so that Ave had to butcher a fresh one
quite often. One of these beef eating neighbors,
William C. McDonald, then a young surveyor,
was the first governor of the state of
New Mexico. He had become a wealthy cattle
man, and was opposed to people eating stolen
beef, but I reminded him of the time when he
seemed to relish it. He made a splendid governor,
and when he died, and was buried in White Oaks ,
a short time ago, I lost one of my dearest friends.
Roberson and I didn't consider that we were
stealing, as in Texas it was the custom to kill
anyone's animals for beef.
Most of the fat steers butchered by our crowd
belonged to Tom Catron, later U. S. Senator, and
his nepheAv, Mr. Waltz. They owned a cattle ranch
at Carrizozo Springs — near where the prosperous
little city of Carrizozo now stands.
The first word Ave had of ' ' Billy the Kid ' ' was
when three of our boys, Lee Hall, Lon Chambers
and Louis Boseman arrived from Ft. Sumner,

A LONE STAR COWBOY 143
with the news that "Billy the Kid" and gang had
been captured, two of the gang being killed.
They explained the fight as follows :
On arriving in Ft. Sumner, Garrett learned
that the "Kid" and his gang had been there and
rode east for Portales Lake. Hence the sheriff
surmised that they would soon return. Therefore
camp was pitched in an old vacated adobe house,
fronting the Ft. Sumner and Los Portales road.
In front of this house there was an adobe fence,
behind which one man was put on guard every
night to give the alarm if men were seen coming
toward Ft. Sumner.
Se\Teral nights later while Lon Chambers was
on duty, behind the adobe fence, a crowd of men
was seen by the moonlight coming down the road.
Chambers at once gave the alarm to Garrett and
the boys who were playing poker. Then all lined
themselves along the adobe fence.
When the man in the lead was opposite, Gar
rett stood up and called to him to throw up his
hands. Instead he drew his pistol, and received
several bullets through the body. These shots
scattered the gang like a flock of quail. Many
shots were fired at them as they took the back
track, from whence they had come.
The dead man proA^ed to be Tom O'Phalliard.
He breathed a few times after being carried into
the house.

144 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Now Garrett and posse took up the trail in the
deep snow, after daylight.
Twelve miles out they came to a dead horse,
which had been wounded in the stomach the night
previous. From now on two of the gang were mounted on
one pony, which made their progress slow.
Towards midnight that night a one-room rock
house loomed up ahead, and the trail in the snow
ended there, showing that the gang were inside
the cabin.
Now the posse rode behind a high hill and built
a fire.
Just before daylight Pat Garrett and Lee Hall
Avalked to the cabin afoot. They lay down along
the west wall, near the corner, from whence the
door could be covered with their rifles. Outside
of this door stood four shivering ponies, the ropes
around their necks being on the inside.
At the first peep of day one man walked out of
the cabin, and the sheriff commanded him to
throw up his hands. He jumped back towards the
door, and received tAvo bullets through the body.
Then Avith his hands up he walked to Garrett and
Hall saying: "I wish, I wish!" and fell OATer dead.
This man proved to be Charlie Bowdre.
Now the gang inside began pulling one of the
ponies inside through the door-way. When half
way in Garrett sent a bullet through the pony's
heart. This blocked up the entrance.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 145
"Billy the Kid" already had his little race mare
inside, and it was their intention to pull the bal
ance of the ponies inside, and then make a dash
out of the door-way for liberty.
Now the sheriff and the "Kid" opened up a
conversation, they passed jokes back and forth.
There were no windows in the cabin, and the
gang tried to pick portholes through the thick
stone walls, with their guns and knives, but this
proved a failure.
All that day and the following night the gang
held out without food, water or fire.
The next day they decided to surrender. "Billy
the Kid" was the last to come out with hands up.
There were only four of them left: Billy Wilson,
Tom Picket, Eudabaugh, and the "Kid."
On arrival in Ft. Sumner the sheriff sent part
of our boys to White Oaks, while he took Jim
East, Tom Emory, and Frank Stewart with him
to the railroad, at Las Vegas. There they boarded
a train for Santa Fe, where the prisoners were
put in the penitentiary for safe-keeping.
In Las Vegas a mob was formed to hang "Billy
the Kid," but Ihey were stood off until the tram
could pull out.
After the return of Tom Emory and Jim East,
Bob Roberson decided, as the "Kid" was behind
prison walls, to return home. I had concluded to
stay until Spring, and gather up any LX cattle
that might be in the country.

146 A LONE STAR COWBOY
As Jim East wished to return to Tascosa, and
run for sheriff of Oldham County, Texas, I al
lowed him to go back with the Roberson crowd. I
also let Lee Hall and Cal Polk go. As Tom Emory
wished to stay with me Roberson gave his consent.
At that time none of us knew that Tom Emory
Avas an escaped convict from the penitentiary in
Huntsville, Texas, under an assumed name.
About thirty years later Emory's wealthy
brother in Texas made a deal with the Governor
to grant him a pardon. It was necessary that Tom
go back to prison, in order to be pardoned. He
spent one night in the penitentiary and then went
to live with his brother. He afterwards died.
I finally received several hundred dollars of ex
pense money from Mr. Moore, with orders to stay
in the country as long as I wished.
We continued to feed our neighbors stolen beef
— not exactly stolen, but butchered according to
the Texas custom.
Well do I remember of "Shanghai" Pierce
once riding into our camp, when one of his ani
mals was being butchered; he said: "Boys, the
day is coming when every man will have to eat
his own beef. ' ' That day came before we old-time
cowboys had time to realize it.
About the first of February I took Tom Emory
with me and rode to Ft. Stanton to examine the
hides in Pat Coglin'e slaughter house there, he

A LONE STAR COWBOY 147
having the contract to furnish the soldiers Avith
beef. Emory Avas mounted on his grey horse, while
I rode one of the work mules, a dandy saddle ani
mal. We first went to the town of Lincoln and secur
ed the services of Johnny Hurley — afterwards
killed by outlaws — as a witness in case we found
any LX hides at Ft. Stanton.
In searching the Cohglin slaughter house, in
charge of "Old Papen" we found many LX hides
— some freshly butchered. These were taken and
stored. Now I decided to see the "King of Tularosa,"
as Pat Cohglin was called, and warn him not to
kill any more LX cattle.
From Ft. Stanton we rode over the White
Mountains to the Mescalero Apache Agency, then
in charge of Major Wm. H. H. Llewellin, now a
prominent lawyer of Las Cruces, New Mexico.
Here Major Llewellin told of John S  pass
ing through the agency a short time previous,
with a herd of Texas cattle, bound for the west.
The fact of the herd being driven in a hurry, and
through deep snow, made it look as though they
might be stolen cattle. Hence I concluded to fol
low their trail.
On arriving in Tularosa one night I attended a
Mexican fandango, (dance) and found a Mexican
Avho had piloted the John S  herd across the

148 A LONE STAR COWBOY
"White Sands." I had him mark out some of the
brands on paper. Among them he drew the LX
brand, which made me more determined to stay on
the trail.
At the Cohglin store in Tularosa I learned that
Pat Cohglin had gone west on trail of 300 of his
cattle, stolen by Tom Cooper, one of "Billy the
Kid's" gang.
Here I sent Tom Emory back to White Oaks
to tell the boys to lay there until my return. Then
a young Texan, by the name of Sam Coleman, and
I started across the "White Sands" desert, for
Las Cruces, on the Rio Grande. I had met Cole
man in Texas. He was now going to Arizona to
grow up with the country, which he did.
Arriving in Las Cruces I found the "King of
Tularosa, ' ' returning from his unsuccessful chase
after Tom Cooper. He was a large, fine looking
old Irishman, with the "ould sod" love for red
"licker." On telling him of finding^ the LX hides in his
slaughter house, and of my intentions to search
his range for LX cattle on my return, he promised
not to butcher any more, If I Avould wait until
April the first before rounding up his cattle, as
he didn't want them disturbed until grass be
came green in the spring. I promised, not realiz
ing he was playing a "dirty Irish trick" on me.
Now I spent a few days in Las Cruces, under
an assumed name, Avorking in with the notorious

A LONE STAR COWBOY 149
' ' Hurricane Bill, ' ' and his tough gang, to find out
more about the John S  herd of cattle. I had
learned that "Hurricane Bill" had just arrived
from Tombstone, Arizona. On making his acquain
tance he told me of this John S  herd having
arrived in Tombstone before his departure from
there. ' ' Hurricane Bill ' ' and his chum, ' ' Baldy ' ' John
son, wanted me to join their gang. They said they
were making big money stealing cattle, and selling
them to Johnny Kinney who ran a slaughter house
in Rincon, forty miles above Las Cruces, then the
terminus of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe
railroad, building south into El Paso.
Later I met this Johnny Kinney and he invited
me to accompany him to a swell Mexican wedding
in La Mesilla, three miles from Las Cruces. This
Mexican wedding gave me my first champagne
headache. Now I wrote to Mr. Moore about the John
S  herd, and advised him to send a good man
to Tombstone, Arizona, by rail and stage, to in
vestigate the matter. He sent John W. Poe, a
deputy IT. S. Marshall from Ft. Elliot, Texas. But
when he arrived in Tombstone the John S 
herd had been sold and scattered to the four
Avinds of Heaven — hence Mr. Poe had his trip for
nothing. I started back to White Oaks. One night was
spent in Tularosa. The next morning I started for

150 A LONE STAR COWBOY
the Pat Cohglin cattle ranch on Three Rivers —
now the property of U. S. Senator A. B. Fall — a
distance of twenty miles.
On the way there I met a lone horse-man. He
introduced himself to me as Johnny Reily. Thirty
five years later I Avas reading a magazine, on the
front porch of the De Vargas Hotel, in Santa Fe,
when an old gentleman passed me on his way into
the hotel. I looked up, and our eyes met. He
said: "Say, didn't I meet you in 1881 on the road
between Tularosa and Three Rivers?"
I mention this to show the fine memory of some
human beings.
Now Johnny Reily, the wealthy cattle man re
siding in the El Paso Club at Colorado Springs,
Colorado, sat down beside me to "hark back" to
the bloody Lincoln County war, in which he took
a prominent part.
He told of one incident to show the cheap re
gard for human life in that noted war. He said
he and Jimmie Dolan owned a store near Ft. Stan
ton, and had been at war with ' ' Billy the Kid ' ' and
his crowd. One night the "Kid" and some of his
warriors pitched camp in the hills near their
store. Early the next morning the "Kid" sent one of
his men to the store with a peace treaty to be
signed by Reily and Dolan.
After the paper was signed they all went across
the road to a saloon, to take a drink. A drummer

A LONE STAR COWBOY 151
from the east, who had just sold them a bill of
goods, accompanied them to the saloon.
While filling the glasses to take a drink the
traveling man criticised "Billy the Kid" and his
lawless bunch. Here "Billy the Kid's" man told
him to keep quiet, as he was not in the civilized
east. He replied that as an American citizen he
had a right to criticise lawlessness.
He hadn't more than finished the sentence when
the "Kid" man shot him dead, Reily said he and
Dolan started to run to the door, but the fellow
leATeled his pistol at them saying: "Finish your
drink, boys, don't let a little thing like this excite
you". They finished the drink, and were glad to
get back to the store alive.
At the Pat Cohglin ranch I put up for the
night, and was royally treated by Mr. and Mrs.
George Nesbeth, the couple who looked after the
cooking and ranch work. A Mexican was in charge
of the live-stock.
During the evening Mr. and Mrs. Nesbeth told
me of how they were present Avhen Pat Cohglin
made a deal with "Billy the Kid" to buy all the
Panhandle, Texas, cattle that he could steal and
deliver to him at Three Rivers.
The next morning when ready to start for White
Oaks, by way of the wagon road, around the
mountains, the Mexican foreman told me that I
could save ten miles by taking a trail over the
high mountain range. He agreed to send one of

152 A LONE STAR COWBOY
his Mexican coAA*boys to put me on the right trail.
I Accepting his kind offer we started.
When about five miles up the mountain side a
plain trail was struck, and the pilot returned to
wards home.
About an hour later the trail made a bend to
the left, and to save time I cut across to strike it
further up the mountain. This move, no doubt,
saved my life, as assassins were laying for me a
short distance ahead on the trail.
Finally three shots were fired in quick succes
sion, and my mule lunged forward, slipping on
the ice covered ground. She fell on her side throw
ing me over an eight foot cliff. My pistol was
hanging to the saddle-horn, but it was grabbed
and pulled out of the scabbard as I went off the
saddle. With the pistol ready for action I lay quiet for
a few moments, thinking the would-be assassins
might show up. I then crawled up the cliff just in
time to see two men running over a ridge, a few
hundred yards distant. They were afoot, and only
in sight a minute. No doubt they thought I was
killed, and were running back to where their
mounts had been left.
The mule was found a couple of hundred yards
up the mountain with her front leg fast in the
bridle-rein. The ground was covered with blood,
Avhich had flown from the wound in her breast.
On investigation I found that one bullet had

A LONE STAR COWBOY 153
ploughed a furrow through the hind tree of my
saddle, and another went through a blanket tied
behind the saddle.
The mule was not badly wounded, hence I reach
ed White Oaks about dark, after an absence of
about two weeks.
Over thirty years later my cowboy friend, John
P. Meadows, of Tularosa, new Mexico, told me
the secret of this attempted assassination. He
had learned the facts in the case from Mexicans
living at Three Rivers. Pat Cohglin had paid
them to kill me, to prevent prosecution for the LX
hides found in his slaughter house.
At this writing John P. Meadows is the owner
of the Cohglin block in Tularosa, he having ac
quired it after Cohglins death, a few years ago.
For the next month we took life easy in the
lively town of White Oaks, and continued to eat
fresh beef. The only brand we looked for, in se
lecting an animal for slaughter, was fat.
The town supported a weekly newspaper. The
Golden Era, hence we kept posted on local af
fairs. One of the boys then on the Golden Era
force, Emerson Hough, has attained a world-wide
reputation as a writer.
Soon after my return to camp "Big-foot Wal
lace" (Frank Clifford) and I rode out in the hills
to get a steer for slaughter. He was butchered in
the edge of town, and the cook, Francisco, hauled
the meat to our quarters in the mess-wagon.

154 A LONE STAR COWBOY
On entering our picket shack, one of the boys
told "Big-foot Wallace" that the town school
master, Sheldon, was hunting him with a gun, to
settle a difficulty they had got into that morning.
"Big foot" had just sat down to eat his supper.
Jumping up he remarked: "Well I will go and
hunt him!" So saying he pulled his Colts pistol
out of the scabbard, lying on the floor, and
stuck it in his right boot. Then he started down
town. I tried to persuade him to wait until after
supper, when I would go with him, but he was too
angry to wait.
Soon we heard six shots fired in quick succes
sion, and a moment later, two louder shots.
Jumping on my pony bare-back I ran down
town. Finding "Bog-foot" surrounded by a big
crowd of men, I advised him to jump on, behind
me, on the pony's back and return to camp, which
he did.
He explained matters by saying that he met
Sheldon and another man Avalking up the street
towards him. On meeting, he asked Sheldon if he
was hunting for him.
Now Sheldon drew a pocket pistol and opened
fire. "Big- foot" reached down to his boot-top to
get Ms gun, but found that the leg of his pants
had slipped down over the gun.
By the time he got the pants leg up, and the pis
tol out, Sheldon had emptied his pistol and was
running doAvn the street. Just as he turned a

A LONE STAR COWBOY 155
corner "Big- foot" fired two shots at Mm, one of
them knocking a button off his coat, and putting
a hole in it.
None of Sheldon's bullets had hit the target.
The next morning "Big-foot" received a sum
mons from Justice of the Peace Frank Lea, to ap
pear in his Court, on the charge of attempted mur
der, at 10 a. m.
We all mounted and rode down town. I em
ployed lawyer John Y. Hewett — still a resident of
White Oaks— to defend "Big-foot."
There were five of us in the crowd, and we wore
our six-shooters and bowie-knives into the court
room. "Pinto Tom," the town marshall, demanded
that we take off our fire-arms wMle court was in
session. This request Avas refused, then he called
on Judge Lea to make us put up the guns.
Now I called "Pinto Tom" to step outside with
me, which he did. There I told Mm that he was
committing suicide, as the boys were ready to fill
him full of holes if he persisted any further. This
settled the matter, and the case proceeded. "Big-
foot" was cleared of the charge.
Sheldon was^never arrested for Ms part in the
shooting scrape — possibly because he did such
poor shooting, Avhich convinced Judge Lea that he
was harmless.
Tavo- years later poor Sheldon was hung by a

156 A LONE STAR COWBOY
mob in Socorro, on the Rio Grande river. He had
been thrown into jail to sober up, that night.
The only other occupants of the jail were young
Ethan Allen, of White Oaks, and a negro. To
wards morning a mob of Mexicans broke into the
jail and liberated the negro, hanging young Allen
and the White Oaks school-master to a near by
tree. This was done to spite the "Gringoes"
(Americans) for hanging the Baca brothers a
short time previous.
On the night before the hanging of Sheldon,
"Big-foot" Wallace and Ethan Allen had held up
and robbed a big store in Los Lunas, near Socor
ro. "Big-foot made his escape by swimming the
raging Rio Grande river, amidst a shower of bul
lets from the law-officers. Ethan Allen being cap
tured, and thrown in jail with Sheldon and the
negro. "Big-foot" reached Old Mexico, and made his
home there until a feAV years ago when he was
shot and killed, according to the reports received
by me.
On reaching Old Mexico "Big-foot" Avrote me
a letter, enclosing his photograph, which is re
tained as a relic of the wild and wooly cattle days.
Finally I received a confidential letter from Mr.
George Nesbeth, on the Pat Cohglin ranch, stat
ing- that Mr. Cohglin was not keeping the promise
made to me, not to butcher any more LX cattle.
The letter went on to state that he was trying to

A LONE STAR COWBOY 157
get them all butchered before the first of April.
Now I got busy and sent Emory and Chambers
to three Rivers with the mess-wagon, while "Big-
foot" and I rode to Ft. Stanton to search the Coh
glin slaughter house. We found five freshly but
chered LX hides — the ones previously butchered
having evidently been hauled off and hidden.
From Ft. Stanton we made a hard ride over the
WMte Mountains for the Cohglin ranch, arriving
there in the night.
Mr. and Mrs. Nesbeth got up out of bed and
cooked us a warm meal.
Early next morning the balance of my outfit ar
rived, then we cut out five large LX steers from
Bill Gentry's herd. Gentry, the foreman, refused
to give them up without orders from Pat Cohglin.
But we told him that if he wanted war we were
ready. He had seven Mexican cowboys with him.
Now we spent three days rounding up the Coh
glin range, only finding three more LX steers.
Then we returned to White Oaks, taking with us
one of Cohglin 's fattest steers, which was butch
ered in White Oaks for the benefit of our meat-
loving friends there.
Now we started towards home, rounding up
cattle on small ranches through the Patos Moun
tains, then the Van Sickle range, now the large
Block ranch, on the north side of Capitan Moun
tains. From here we went to Los Palos Springs, where

158 A LONE STAR COWBOY
the tough little town of Arabella now stands.
Thence to Roswell, on the Pecos River.
Roswell was a town with two stores, one owned
by that whole-souled Missourian, Capt. J. C. Lea,
a bother of Judge Frank Lea of White Oaks, and
the other by a Mr. Cosgrove.
Here we laid over a week to wait until John
Chisum started the spring round-up on his
"Jingle-bob" range, containing about 60,000 cat
tle. During this time we attended dances on Pump
kin Row, where a bunch of Texans had settled a
few miles south of Roswell.
At his home, ranch, on south Spring River,
John Chisum had built a new frame dwelling,
under which flowed a sparkling irrigation stream
to water the young orchard just planted.
On the front porch if this new house I used to
sit for hours talking to Cattle King John CMsum.
His whole heart seemed wrapped up in this large
young orchard. It is now the home of Ex-Gover
nor Herbert J. Hagerman — hence Mr. Chisum
planted the orchard for others to enjoy, as he died
a few years later.
¦ When the Chisum round-up started south to the
Texas line, a distance of nearly 200 miles, to be
gin rounding up to brand calves, we followed.
I left Tom Emory in Roswell to guard our
small bunch of steers. He made his home with
Capt. J. C. Lea, and during the daytime grazed

A LONE STAR COWBOY 159
the steers on the grassy flat in front of the Lea
Store. Now that grassy flat is covered with large
business blocks, with paved streets, as Roswell
has grown to be an up-to-date little city, with
about 7,000 population.
On our way down the Pecos River we camped
for dinner one day, on the west bank of the stream
— near where the little city of Carlsbad is now lo
cated. The river was bank-full from melted snow at its
head. We were sitting on the ground near the
water's edge, with plates on our laps, eating din
ner, Avhen a man rode up on a black horse, he
said : ' ' Say, boys, did you hear the news ? ' '
When I replied "No." he continued:
"Billy the Kid" has Mlled his two guards in
Lincoln and escaped. ' '
At that moment "Big-foot Wallace" gave a
Comanche Indian yell, saying: "Hurrah for
"Billy the Kid " Then he dived headlong into
the muddy water of the Pecos. He had on his
boots, spurs, leather leggins and six-shooter, with
a belt of cartridges. When he came to the surface
he yelled again: "hurrah for the Kid." Then he
swam ashore and wrung the water from his
clothes. This stranger didn't know the full particulars
of the "Kid's" escape, but on our return to Ros
well, two weeks later, we found out all about it.
We finally started up the river with our ten LX

160 A LONE STAR COWBOY
steers, having found two near the Chisum home
ranch. Six miles above the abandoned Post of Ft. Sum
ner, at Sunnyside, I went ahead with the mess-
wagon to buy horse-feed and grub.
On riding up to the platform, in front of the
store, I dismounted, and jpulling my Winchester
rifle out of the saddle scabbard I walked into the
open door. I had lost a screw out of the rifle, and
wanted to buy another that would fit.
As I entered the door several men went run
ning out of the rear entrance. There was no one
left in the store but the proprietor, who seemed
greatly excited. He said: "Well, I'll be d  d!
we thought you was "Billy the Kid." You look
just like him. "Then the store man went to the
rear entrance and called out: "Come back boys,
its a false alarm."
Others had previously told me that I looked like
' ' Billy the Kid. ' ' Now I felt convinced that it must
be true.
These men had heard of "Billy the Kid's es
cape, after killing his two guards.
I then returned to Ft. Sumner and laid OA^er to
attend a Mexican dance that night.
Mrs. Charlie Bowdre — whose husband was
killed by Pat Garrett and Lee Hall — attended
this dance. She being a good-looking young Mexi
can woman, I danced with her often.
When the dance broke up before daylight I

A LONE STAR COWBOY 161
accompanied Mrs. Bowdre to her two-room adobe
house. I tried to persuade her to allow me to go
inside and talk awhile. Then I bade her goodnight.
On meeting her the coming fall she told me the
reason for her not letting me enter the house. That
"Billy the Kid" was in hiding there, at the time.
Now we struck out east for Portales Lake, on
the Avest edge of the Staked Plains.
We camped one night at Stinking Springs, and
slept in the rock house where "Billy the Kid" and
Ms gang held out for about two days and nights,
Avithout fire, food or water.
Lon Chambers and Tom Emory pointed out to
"Big-foot" and me the spot where Charlie Bow
dre fell, when hit by bullets from Garrett's and
Hall's rifles.
The stone walls inside showed the marks of
where the gang tried to pick port-holes.
Arriving at Los Portales Lake — near where the
thriving county-seat town of Portales, New
Mexico, is now located — we pitched camp at "Billy
the Kid's cave." It was here at a large fresh wa
ter spring — the lake being salty — that the "Kid"
and gang made their headquarters, while stealing
LX steers for Pat Cobglin.
This "cave" was not a cave — just an overhang
ing rock cliff, with a stone corral around it, on
three sides.
A few years later this "cave" and fresh water
spring were taken up, as a small cattle ranch, by

162 A LONE STAR COWBOY
a cowboy friend of mine, Doak Good. He after
wards killed a man, which broke him up in busi
ness, as it took his small bunch of cattle to pay
lawyers fees, and other costs in the case.
From now on our misery began, gathering Can
adian River cattle, whicli in past winters had
strayed away, drifting south with the buffalo.
They had become as wild as deer.
Being short of horses we had to press the four
work mules into service, to stand night-watch
over the cattle.
Further east there was a chain of fresh Avater
lakes, on the head draws of the Yellow-house can
yon, a tributary of the Brazos River, and around
them we found many cattle.
After leaving these lakes we were two days and
nights without water.
The first habitation we struck, since leav
ing Ft. Sumner, was Walter Dyer's log house
on the head of Paladuro Canyon, a distance of
about 200 miles.
Now over that same stretch of country dwell
thousands of prosperous "fool-hoe-men," and
their happy families.
The chances are some of these settlers, east of
Los Portales Lake, found the remains of a twelve
year old boy, and counted it as another unsolved
mystery of the Llano Estacado.
In the fall of 1887 Bill McCoy, a Panhandle

A LONE STAR COWBOY 163
cowboy, whom I knew as Bill Gatlin, shot and kill
ed deputy sheriff Gunn, of Lusk, Wyoming. He
was tried and sentenced to hang for the crime.
Just before he was to be hanged, Tom Nichols,
alias Tom HaU, foreman of the Keeline cattle
ranch on the Larmie river, in Wyoming, paid a
tough eastern safe-blower $500.00 to liberate Mc
Coy. He committed a petty crime in Cheyenne and
was thrown in jail. Then his time was spent with
steel saws, concealed in the soles of Ms shoes, to
liberate the prisoners.
On the night of the liberation Tom Hall was at
a designated place, with an extra horse and saddle
to take McCoy to the Keeline ranch, where he was
kept hidden out for a while.
Finally McCoy pulled out with two good hors
es, going through the state of Utah into New
Mexico. In Utah he picked up a twelve year old boy who
wanted to be a cowboy outlaw. He was allowed to
ride the extra horse.
On arriving in Santa Fe their mounts were
played out. Gatlin then hired a buggy and team to
drive out in the country. When a few miles out
of the city the saddles were put onto the buggy
horses, and a hard ride made to the Los Portales
Lake, where then lived Len Woodruff, a former
LX cowboy.
Gatlin and Woodruff were warm friends, as
more than once they "shot up" the town of Tas-

164 A LONE STAR COWBOY
cosa together. In one of these shootings Len
Woodruff was shot all to pieces — being made a
cripple for life.
Bill Gatlin told Woodruff that he had foolishly
confessed to this boy, that he was under sentence
of death, and for that reason he wanted to
"shake" Mm.
They had tried to persuade the boy to quit
Gatlin, as he didn't want him with him, but he
Avouldn't listen to the advice. He said Gatlin had
promised to take him to South America and that
he had to keep his promise.
Woodruff kept the boy in the tent until Gatlin
had been gone about half an hour. Then he was
turned loose, as he had promised to make his
home with Len Woodruff.
Now Woodruff went to work about his chores.
Soon he looked to the south-westward and saw the
boy on Ms horse running on Gatlin 's trail.
Two days later, while out hunting lost horses,
Woodruff found this boy's horse and saddle. The
saddle was covered with blood.
When telling me this story Woodruff said he
felt sure Gatlin had shot the boy from his horse,
after he had overtaken Mm, (Gatlin).
I was already familiar with this Bill McCoy
murder case, as the district attorney, Walter
Stoll, of Cheyenne, Wyoming, had employed me
as a detective to investigate the matter.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 165
As a supposed Texas outlaw I spent a couple of
months on the Keeline ranch.
I traced Bill McCoy to New Orleans where he
shipped on a sailing vessel for Buenos Ayres,
South America — thence 1200 miles onto the Pam
pas, where he joined a gang of Texas outlaws,
some of them being chums of Tom Hall.
In a few years Gatlin became tired of South
America and returned to the United States. He
finally settled down and married in south-western
New Mexico, where he raised a family, and be
came a well-to-do cattle man.
The chances are Bill Gatlin, alias Bill McCoy,
would sweat blood did he know that I knew his
present name and address, for the hangman's
noose Avould stare him in the face.
If he really did kill that boy he should be hanged
more than once.
We arrived at the LX ranch on the 22nd day
of June, with 2500 head of cattle, after an ab
sence of seven months. CHAPTER VIII.
A 3000 MILE HORSE-BACK RIDE.
A TRUE ACCOUNT OF "BILLY THE KID'S"
ESCAPE, AND DEATH.
On returning to the ranch I found that we had
no boss, as Mr. Moore had quit to look after his
OAvn cattle.

166 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Mr. David T. Beals, who was at the Ranch,
complimented me on my seven months work. He
said, on the strtngth of my letters, they had sent
John W. -Poe to Lincoln County, New Mexico, to
prosecute Pat Cohglin.
Mr. Beals presented me with a fine-blooded colt,
which I afterwards sold for $200 to the Reverend
Carhart, of Clarendon. He also promised me that
when his company met, to select a new manager
for the LX ranch, he would present my name, and
recommend me for the position.
John Hollicott, a slow, easy-going Scotch cow
boy was selected as general manager of the ranch,
to take Moore's place, a few months later.
Mr. Beals to'id me that other members of Ms
company objected to me, as being too wild and
reckless for such a responsible position.
As the "fool hoe-men" were settling the coun
try around Mobeta, Mr. Beals began buying up
all land on the LX range, which bordered on
streams, or took in watering places, such as lakes
and springs. But he was only allowed to purchase
every two sections of land out of three. Every
third section being State School Land, wMch could
only be taken up by actual settlers. The State
lands, and the Gunter & Munson sections, were
for sale, and these constituted his purchases.
In the early 70s the State of Texas had made a
deal with Gunter and Munson, of Sherman, Tex
as, to survey most of the Texas Panhandle. Their

A LONE STAR COWBOY 167
pay being a deed to every third section (640 acres)
of land.
There being about twenty-five counties in the
Panhandle, you can imagine the number of sec
tions these two Sherman lawyers owned, after the
survey was finished.
In the early '80 's the state deeded 3,000,000
acres of land, adjoining New Mexico, to the
"Merchant Prince," J. V. Farwell, and his Chi
cago associates, as pay for the erection of a new
capitelbuilding in Austin.
On this" large tract of land the Capitol Syndi
cate established the XIT cattle ranch, which be
came one of the largest in the Panhandle.
When the ' ' fool hoe-men ' ' began to flock into
the Panhandle, and land could be sold for $20 and
more per acre, the Capitol Syndicate cut up their
large holdings into small farms, cutting down the
number of cattle accordingly.
I spent the balance of the summer in charge of
a branding crew.
During the middle part of October a letter was
received from John W. Poe, for Lon Chambers
and me to be in Lincoln, New Mexico, to appear
as witnesses against Pat Cohglin, on the 7th of
November. Hence we had to hurry, as it meant a
horse-back ride of about 600 miles.
I was instructed by Mr. Erskine Clement, who
was in charge of outside matters, to put in the
coming winter scouting along the Texas and Pa-

168 A LONE STAR COWBOY
cific railroad, at the foot of the South Staked
Plains, in search of strayed LX cattle.
After a hard ride across country, part of the
time without water, we reached Lincoln in the
night, as per Mr. Poe's instructions, so that Pat
Cohglin wouldn't know we were to appear as wit
nesses against him.
Mr. Poe had arranged for us to board with a
Mr. Cline, twelve miles down the Hondo river,
and keep in hiding until we were called as wit
nesses. On arriving at the Cline ranch, about daylight,
we received a hearty welcome from Mr. Cline and
his Mexican family.
After being in hiding twelve days Mr. Poe rode
down to tell us that Pat Cohglin had been grant
ed a change of venue to Dona Ana County. He
instructed me to be in La Mesilla, on the Rio
Grande, the first Monday in April, 1882, to attend
court. He told Lon Chambers that he could return
home, as he would not be needed, which he did.
Now, mounted on " Croppy "—a milk-white
horse with both ears frozen off close to Ms head
— with "Buckshot" for a pack animal, I started
for Roswell.
On arriving in Roswell I rode out a short dis
tance to sheriff Pat Garrett 's ranch, but found out
that Mr. Garrett had gone to Dallas. Old man Ash
Upson, who was living with the sheriff and his
Mexican family, informed me that he had just re-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 169
ceived a letter from Pat Garrett, with instruc
tions to meet Mm at Pecos Station, on the T. P.
Ry. with the covered hack on a certain day.
Mr. Upson and I decided to make this nearly
two hundred miles trip together. He drove ahead
with Ms covered rig and I followed with my pack
outfit. But we pitched camp together at night.
In riding along one day I passed a covered
hack by the side of the road, and heard my name
called. Then I rode over to the camp, a few rods
distant, and found my friend, Clay Allison, the
man-killer. He introduced me to his new wife, a
young corn-fed Missouri girl.
Of course I had to lay over for the noon-day
lunch, so as to sample this Missouri Girl's cook
ing. Mr. Allison was in search of a new location to
settle down. He selected a ranch near Seven Riv
ers, and started a small cattle ranch.
Several years later, while intoxicated, he fell off
a wagon and broke Ms neck. Thus did the killer of
eighteen men die with his boots on.
On Christmas Eve, Ash and I put up for the
night at the Jones ranch on Seven Rivers. Mr.
and Mrs. Jones were warm friends of Mr. Upson's
— hence they invited us to lay over Christmas and
eat turkey dinner with them, which we did. We
"shore" enjoyed the turkey, sweet-potatoes,
pumpkin pie and egg-nog.
On this trip Ash Upson told me the history of

170 A LONE STAR COWBOY
"Billy the Kid" — whom he had known from
childhood. His true name was Billy Bonney; he
was born on the 23rd of November 1859, in New
York City.
After Ms father's death, his mother married a
Mr. Antrim, who soon after moved to Santa Fe,
New Mexico, where Ash Upson was in the news
paper business.
In Santa Fe Mr. and Mrs. Antrim opened a res
taurant, and had Mr. Upson as a boarder. The
"Kid" then being only ten years old.
A few years later Ash Upson and Mr. Antrim
moved to Silver City.
Soon after "Billy the Kid" went on a trip to
Ft. Union, and killed his first man, a negro sol
dier. On the LX ranch, in the fall of '78 the "Kid"
told me that Ms first killing was a negro soldier
in Ft. Union.
On returning to Silver City he Mlled a black
smith in a personal encounter. Now he sMpped
out for Old Mexico to avoid arrest.
In the city of Chihuahua, Mexico, he Mlled and
robbed a Mexican monte dealer.
He then "hit the high places" for Texas, fin
ally arriving in Lincoln County, New Mexico,
where he went to work for an Englishman by the
name of Tunstall.
In the spring of 1878 a mob, headed by Morton,
from the Rio Pecos, shot and killed Tunstall.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 171
Now "Billy the Kid" swore that he would kill
every man who had a hand in the murder of Ms
friend, Tunstall. He made up a crowd of warriors
consisting of 'Tom 0 'Phalliard, Henry Brown,
Fred Wyatt, Sam Smith, Jim French, John Mid-
dleton, R. M. Bruer, J. G. Skurlock, Charlie Bow
dre, Frank McNab and a fellow named McClosky,
and started out to kill the murderers of Tunstall.
This was the starting of the bloody Lincoln
County war. Before the war ended Morton and his
crowd were Mlled.
Sheriff Brady undertook the job of breaking up
the "Kid's" gang, and was killed by "Billy the
Kid," He had shot Mm from behind an adobe
Avail, as he rode down the main street of Lincoln.
As the sheriff lay in the road badly wounded
"Billy the Kid" ran out from behind the adobe
wall and shot him through the head.
Now the whole county became a battle-ground,
many good Citizens joining the "Kid's" gang.
During tMs war "Billy the Kid" and a dozen
of his men took refuge in lawyer McSween 's resi
dence in Lincoln. In the night they were surroun
ded by thirty- five "Seven River Warriors," and
two companies of United States Soldiers, under
command of Col. Dudley of the ninth cavalry.
The McSween residence was set afire. When
the fire became too hot the "Kid" and his party
dashed out of the Mtchen door, shooting as they
ran. "Billy the Kid" and Tom 0 'Phalliard were

172 A LONE STAR COWBOY
the only ones who escaped without a scratch. Law
yer McSAveen lay dead with nine bullets in Ms
body. Ash Upson had previously moved from Silver
City to Lincoln County, hence he knew all about
this local war.
Ash and I arrived at Pecos station at three
o 'clock on New Years Eve. We had been traveling
slowly, as Pat Garrett was not due to arrive at
Pecos until after New Years.
There being no accomodations at Pecos station
Ash and I concluded to board the evening west
bound train for Toyah, twenty miles distant. Our
horses being left in charge of a wolf-hunter.
In Toyah we put up at the Alvarado Hotel,
owned by a Mr. Newell.
After supper Ash took in the town, while I re
mained at the hotel to enjoy the company of Mr.
Newell 's fifteen year old daughter, Miss Beulah.
About midnight Ash returned to the hotel load
ed to Ms full capacity with fire-water, though he
swore that he hadn't drunk anything but "Tom
and Jerry."
On New Years morning a big shooting match
for turkeys was to take place in the edge of town,
Miss Beulah expressed a wish that someone bring
her a fat bird. Of course that meant me, so I pro
mised that she should have a few turkeys.
The Justice of the Peace, Mr. Miller, had sent

A LONE STAR COWBOY 173
to Dallas for the turkeys, which had cost him $3
each. When the shooting match started, a fat gobbler
Avas put in an iron box, with only his head visible.
The shooting to be done, with pistols, off-hand, at
a distance of thirty-five yards. Each shooter to
pay twenty-five cents a shot, with a free shot to
follow if he killed the turkey.
I paid my twenty-five cents and was put down
as number eleven.
Ten men fired but the gobbler was still alive.
Now my Colts 45 pistol was raised and off went
the bird's head. Then another was put in the iron
box, and Ms head went off, or at least fell over
on the box.
Here Judge Miller said he. would have to bar
me out from shooting any more. He explained that
he had a large family to support, and that he
ought, at least, to get his money back for Ms flock
of turkeys.
With the two gobblers on my shoulder I re
turned to the hotel and laid them at Miss Beulah 's
feet. Of course she thanked me.
From now on I was known as the "turkey
shooter." Many times in riding along the rail
road I was recognized by men on passing trains
and hailed as the "turkey shooter." They knew
my crop-eared horse.
That night we had a big turkey supper at the
Alvarado Hotel, and a dance afterwards.

174 A LONE STAR COWBOY
There were only two young ladies at the dance,
Miss Beulah, and a Miss Lee. The balance being
married ladies.
During the whole night shots could be heard
down town, fired by hilarious cowboys and rail
roaders. Much of this shooting being over the
heads of frightened Chinamen, there being about
a dozen in town. They left for El Paso on the
first train, and it was said that Pig-tails steered
clear of Toyah ever afterwards.
A few days after New Years a telegram came
to Ash from Pat Garrett, at Pecos Station, tell
ing Mm to come on the first train, as he was in a
hurry to get home.
Ash being in bed drunk, he got me to answer
the message, which. read: "Can't leave here; owe
every man in town. ' '
Soon another message came ; it stated : " If you
don't come on the first train I will strike out and
leaA^e you."
This angered Mr. Upson, and he told me to
write a reply just as dictated. With pencil in hand
I wrote down the words, wMch were : "Go to, hie,
h — 1, d — m you."
On receiving this message the sheriff came up
on the first train and paid Upson's debts, then
took the old man back with Mm. I never saw poor
Ash Upson afterwards, as he died a few years la
ter. From Toyah I drifted east along the T. P. Ry.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 175
onto the southern edge of the Staked Plains, leav
ing 'the rail-road at Sand Hill Station, and circling
around to the north-eastward, to buffalo-hunters
camps. It had been reported that as buffalo were
getting scarce, stray cattle were being Mlled for
their hides. But I satisfied myself that these re
ports were false.
At Cedar Lake I made the acquaintance of two
noted buffalo hunters, the Whaley brothers. I af
terwards met them in Big Springs, where they
Arere waiting for the money from a shipment of
buffalo Mdes.
When this money, $600, reached them they be
gan drinking and gambling in Big Springs.
One night they were ' ' bucking ' ' monte — a Mex
ican game. The small red complected brother was
sitting in a chair at the end of the table, while the
other, a fine looking large man was up on the
table, on his knees.
An argument arose about a tAventy-five cent
bet, which had won. The small man picked up the
money, claiming it was his. Then the other broth
er pulled his pistol and shot him through the
heart. As he was falling he jerked out his pistol
and shot the other man through the body. He ran
out on the street and fell over dead. Thus ended
the career of two of the best known buffalo hunt
ers on the Llano Estacado.
I finally landed in Colorado City, at the head of
the Colorado River, flat broke.

176 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Walking into the largest store in town I intro
duced myself to the proprietor, Mr. "Pete" Sny
der, for whom the now prosperous town of Sny
der, Texas, was named. I asked for the loan of
$50, until money from the LX ranch could reach
me. Without any 'hums or haws' he pulled out the
.amount and handed it to me. This shows the broad-
gauge spirit of these old-time westerners. When
my $200, post-office money-order, from Erskine
Clement, arrived I repaid Mr. Snyder.
I spent a couple of weeks riding over the large
range owned by Lum Slaughter of Dallas, Texas.
Now my face was turned westward for a 500
mile ride to La Mesilla, New Mexico, to attend
court. In Big Springs I lay two days with a burning-
fever. Realizing the importance of my presence
in court, I got up out of a sick bed and continued
my journey.
After dark, just as a cold norther and sleet
storm had sprung up, I rode up to a section house,
and called, ' ' hello ! " A man came out to the gate,
and I told him that I was sick, and wanted to stay
there for the night.
He kindly told me to go into the house, that he
Avould put up my horses and feed them.
On entering the door the blazing fire in the fire
place put new life into me. Tho lady sitting by the
fire looked up, then gaATe a scream, which brought
her husband on the run. She told him that I had

A LONE STAR COWBOY 177
'small-pox. Looking at my face he discovered that
it Avas really co\Tered with fresh small-pox sores.
Small-pox was raging in Colorado City, but I
never dreamt that I had contracted the dreaded
disease. Now the gentleman told me that I would have
to leave, although he hated to drive me out in the
cold storm, then raging.
My journey was continued, but on riding about
five miles I could stand is no longer. The ponies
Avere tied to a telegraph pole and I laid down with
my saddle for a pillow.
At daylight my journey was continued to the
next section house, they being ten miles apart,
along the railroad.
Before riding up to the section house my face
was tied up with silk ^handkerchief s, so that the
sores couldn't be seen. The section creAv had just
gone to work, and the man cook gave me a warm
meal, which was carried up stairs to be eaten
alone, for fear the cook would discover the sores
on my face, and run me away. No doubt the cook
tho aght I was an outlaw, trying to keep my face
hidden from view. I continued the trick of keep
ing my face tied up at every section house stop
ped at enroute. Hard rides were made to reach a
doctor in Toyah.
On reaching that town I rode up to Doctor Rob
erson 's office and entered. This prominent rail
road doctor pronounced it a case of small-pox, but

178 A LONE STAR COWBOY
said the danger had passed, as my pulse was
slightly above normal. He gave me some salve to
dry up the sores on my face and shoulders, the
only places on my body where they had broken
out. He also assured me that no one could con
tract the disease from me, as the fever had gone
down. With my face covered with handkerchiefs, I
rode up to the Alvorado Hotel, and was greeted
by Miss Beulah, who was out on the front porch.
She wanted to know what was the matter with my
face, I told her that my mouth was covered with
fever blisters.
I hired a boy to care for my horses, and then
went to bed, Miss Beulah brought my meals into
the room, but I put off eating them untd after
she left, so that she could not see the sores. The
doctor had told me that I would be taken to the
pest-house, where there were already several pa
tients, if it was discovered that I had small-pox.
In riding the more than 200 miles from Big
Springs, several days had passed.
A few days in bed at the Alvarado Hotel and
my journey to El Paso was continued, after bid
ding Miss Beulah a last farewell. I have never
seen this pretty little, tender hearted, girl since,
although I have heard of her many times. She
is now the wife of a well-to-do Texas cattle-man.
I still keep and cherish the leather .pocket-book

A LONE STAR COWBOY' 179
she presented to me on NeAV Years day, 1882. Her
name and address being written on the inside.
A. ride of 100 miles brought me to the Rio
Grande River. That night I camped with a Mexi
can and his family, they being enroute to El
Paso, from Lerado.
Before retiring I moved my ponies to fresh
grass, a few hundred yards from camp, "Buck
shot" being staked out, and "Croppy" hobbled.
Early next morning I discovered both of my
horses gone. I tracked them to the river. On the
opposite shore, in Old Mexico, I found moccasin
tracks in the sand where the thieves had dis
mounted to get a drink of water from the river.
Now I returned to camp and hired the Mexi
can's only saddle pony, his covered wagon being
hauled by a yoke of oxen. I agreed to give Mm $10.
a day for the use of the pony.
The tracks of my two ponies were followed
west to a range of mountains about thirty-five
miles distant. In places I had to ride slowly in or
der to see the tracks.
It was nearly sun-down when I came in sight of
a spring, near which were my ponies. "Buckshot"
was staked out to grass and "Croppy" hobbled,
just as I had left them the night before.
For a while I hid behind a hill, thinking the
thieAres would soon show themselves. Finally a
shot was heard to the westward, about half a mile

180 A LONE STAR COWBOY
distant. I concluded the thie\res had gone into the
rough mountains to kill game for their supper.
Now I took a drink from the cool springy and
headad east, mounted on ' ' Croppy. ' '
It seemed plain to me that two prowling In
dians, or Mexicans, afoot had discovered my pon
ies and rode them into Mexico.
It Avas daylight when I arrived in camp.
After breakfast I gave the Mexican $10 for the
use of Ms pony, then struck out up the Rio Grande
river. That night I put up with Charlie Wilson, in old
Camp Rice, and the next night stopped in the
beautiful Mexican town of San Elibario. Here I
laid over three days and searched a mountain
range in Old Mexico for a herd of cattle which I
was told might be stolen stock. I found the herd,
but there were no Canadian river cattle in it. No
doubt they were stolen stock from the way the
three men in charge acted.
I finally reached the adobe town of El Paso —
now an up-to-date, beautiful little city — one af
ternoon. In riding up the main street a tall man, with
steel grey eyes, wearing a city marshall 's star
called me by name. He was standing on the edge
of the sidewalk. I rode over to him and shook his
outstretched hand, but I told him that I didn't re
member of ever meeting him before.
Now he told of stopping in my camp two days,

A LONE STAR COWBOY 181
in 1878, to reload a lot of rifle and pistol shells.
That he had been run out of Ft. Griffin, Texas,
by the Vigilantes. Then I remembered him, I ask
ed what he did with the herd of sheep he stole
after leaving my camp. This excited him, and he
cautioned me to keep quiet; as some of the pass
ers-by, on the side-walk, might hear me. He in
vited me to dismount and take a drink with him,
Avhich I did.
At a table in the rear part of the saloon we had
a long talk, mixed with several drinks of liquor.
This city guardian of the peace wanted to know
how I found out that he had stolen the band of
sheep, I explained that one of my coAvboy chums
met him on the Staked Plains driving the sheep
south-westward, with the two Mexican boys as
prisoners. That this chum reported the matter to
me — as he had seen Mm in my camp, and suppos
ed he was an old friend of mine.
TMs officer then told me of how he kept the two
boys as prisoners, making them drive the 2000
head of sheep, until they reached the breaks of
the Pecos River in New Mexico, where they were
given their two burros (Jackasses) and told to
"hit the trail" over which they had come.
I said: "Are you sure you didn't kill them, to
prevent them giving the alarm ? ' '
With a laugh he said : ' ' Trust that to me Char
lie, for you can bet that I made sure they wouldn't
get help and follow me up. ' '

182 A LONE STAR COWBOY
He then told of driving the sheep to the Pecos
river, where he hired two sheep herders to help
him drive the band to El Paso, where they Avere
sold for one dollar a head, a total of $2000.
This shows the carelessness of western towns
in the selection of peace officers. I could cite doz
ens of cases where tough men were appointed
marshals. These two Mexican boys were in their 'teens,
and had been sent from northern NeAV Mexico in
to the Texas Panhandle, by their parents, to
guard these sheep.
No doubt their bones were found by the "fool
hoe- men" who afterwards settled that part of the
country. Thus adding another unsolved mystery of
the great Llano Estacado.
Over forty years later, in about the year 1913,
I visited the city of El Paso and tried to find out
the name of this sheep stealing officer ; I had for
gotten his name.
City detective George Harold assisted me to
find out who wore officers stars in the early' 80s.
Through old-timers we learned that the names of
the two marshals during that period were a Mr.
Studenmeyer and John Sillman.
Mr. Studenmeyer was a tall middle age man,
who- was killed in a pistol duel with the Manning
brothers, El Paso saloon men. I satisfied myself
that he was not the sheep tMef.
We finally found a Mr. George H. Tucker who

A LONE STAR COWBOY 183
knew John Sillman in Ft. Griffin, Texas. He
told of how he had made his escape from the Vigi
lances there in 1878, that being the same year that
the sheep thief stopped in my camp.
Mr. Tucker informed us that John Sillman had
a bad record as a killer of men, and a cattle thief,
in Ft. Griffin. That he was in partnership, in cat
tle stealing, Avith Johnny Lam, whom the Vigi
lantes shot to death while chained to the floor in
jail. He said Sillman killed a man by the name
of Cohen, and in some way was mixed up with the
killing of seven men, whose bodies were thrown in
the river.
John Sillman in 1896 shot and killed the noted
man-killer, Wesley Harding, while he was talking
to the bar-keeper in one of the saloons in El Paso.
Later, George Scarborough shot and killed Sill
man in the alley back of the Wigwam saloon in El
Paso. I later received a letter from John P. Mead
ows in Tularosa, New Mexico, describing John
Sillman. He had worked for him and his part
ner, Johnny Larn, on their ranch above Ft. Grif
fin in the early '70s. He described him as being
over six feet tall and weighing about 180 pounds,
with cold, steel grey eyes. This corresponded with
my recollection of Mm.
I made up my mind without a doubt that John
Sillman had stolen the band of sheep, and murder
ed the two Mexican boys.

184 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Mr. Meadows' letter stated that John Sillman
murdered several Mexicans on the Hondo river
in Lincoln County, New Mexico.
No doubt when John Sillman murdered Wesley
Harding, in cold blood, he thought no jury could
be found to convict Mm for killing the worst man-
killer Texas eA^er produced. But he, himself, was
killed before the case came up for trial.
Wesley Harding had the reputation of having
killed thirty-one men. No other Texas man had
such a high record, with the exception of Bill
Longley, who was hanged.
In the middle '70s the state of Texas offered a
large reward for "Wess" Harding, dead or alive.
This caused him to hide out.
A detective, who needed this reward, opened a
store at Cedar Hill, in Gonzales County, near
Harding's home. He was later appointed Post
master for that neighborhood. He kept track of all
letters sent, or received, by Harding's wife. Most
of these letters came,or went, to a certain town in
Florida. Now, after being a merchant for two years, the
detective had business in Florida. Harding was
arrested and sent to the Huntsville Penitentiary
for twenty-five years, for the killing of a sheriff.
In the penitentiary the officers tried all kinds
of schemes, even to whipping him with cato-nine-
tails, to make "Wess" work, but he refused to
dirty Ms hands at hard labor.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 135
Now they tried the last resort, by placing Mm
in a \rat, to keep the water pumped out, or drown.
After the pump-handle was put into "Wes's"
hands the water was turned on.
In a moment, when the guard in charge return
ed, he found the water over Harding's head, and
bubbles coming to the surface, showing that no ef
fort had been made to work the pump-handle.
Now Harding Avas given an easy job as clerk,
and served his sentence out.
After gaining his freedom he moved, with his
family, to El Paso — there to be murdered by John
Sillman. Detectives George Harold, who assisted me in
trying to run down the identity of the officer who
stole the herd of sheep, is, no doubt, the slayer of
the notorious Sam Bass, although a Mr. Ware got
the credit for it.
Mr. Ware has the reputation of killing this out
law, as he was the leader of the posse who roun
ded up the gang in Round Rock, Texas.
In this battle Sam Bass and his chum, Barnes
were killed, Dad Jackson and Underwood escap
ed. On the officers side Grimes was killed, and
Morris wounded.
Sam Bass was the hero of more young Texas
cowboys than any other "bad" man, and the song
about him was the most popular. It started out
thus:

186 A LONE STAR COWBOY
' ' Sam Bass was born in Indiana,
It Avas called Ms native home.
And at the age of seventeen,
Young Sam began to roam.
He first went out to Texas,
A cowboy for to be ;
And a kinder hearted fellow
You'd scarcely ever see."
This song seemed to have a qMeting effect on
a herd of long-horns during thunder storms. Pos
sibly the sweet, musical tune had something to do
with it.
Along the Chisholm trail on a still night these
favorite cowboy songs could be heard a long dis
tance, coming from the different herds bedded
down for the night.
While laying over in El Paso in 1882, I met
John Sykes, a cowboy Avho droA^e "up the CMs-
holni trail ' ' with me in 1876. He could cuss louder
and longer than any cowboy in the outfit.
He invitfd me to Ms residence to take dinner,
and to meet his young wife. She was a handsome,
dark haired girl, and had about succeeded in tam
ing her loud-mouth husband.
About thirty years later I met John Sykes in
Las Cruces, New Mexico, and found him to be a
very tame old man, who had forgotten how to
"cuss"' — thanks to his wife's training. He now
owned an alfalfa farm in the Rio Grande valley,

A LONE STAR COWBOY 1S7
between Las Cruces and El Paso. He has grown
children. I also met Wess Adams, another chum, in El
Paso, in 1882. He was the cowboy stabbed by a
buffalo hunter in Dodge City, Kansas, in 1877.
He now belonged to ' ' Curley Bill 's ' ' outlaw gang,
and said they were making all kinds of money. He
tried to induce me to join the gang. I have never
heard of him since.
On the first Monday in April I appeared in
Judge Bristol's Court in La Mesilla, three miles
from Las Cruces.
John W. Poe and Pat Garrett Avere there, and
so were Mr. and Mrs. George Nesbeth.
Pat Cohglin had employed Col. Rynerson and
Thornton to defend Mm in the court.
Mr. Poe had secured Attorney A. J. Fountain,
to assist Prosecuting Attorney Newcomb.
Several years later A. J. Fountain was murder
ed at the White Sands, between Tularosa and Las
Cruces. He was on his way home to Las Cruces,
from Lincoln, where he had been attending court.
With him in the buggy was a young son, about
thirteen years of age.
They stopped for the night in Tularosa. The
next morning they started for their sixty mile
drive across the White Sands desert.
Late in the afternoon Fountain met the Mexi
can mail carrier, who advised Mm to turn back, as
he had seen a gang of suspicious characters hid-

188 A LONE STAR COWBOY
ing at the point of White Sands, near a watering
place. This noted lawyer and high degree Mason told
the mail carrier that it was of great importance
that he be in Las Cruces the next day, so, for that
reason, he would have to take a chance on being
murdered. When the mail carrier returned the next day
he found Mr. Fountain's buggy by the side of the
road, near where he had, on the previous day,
seen the suspicious characters.
Underneath the buggy was a pool of blood, and
a trail of blood leading away from the buggy --
showing that the murderers had carried the body
of Fountain away on one of the horses, attached
to the buggy.
When a posse was made up in Las Cruces and
Tularosa the bloody trail was followed eastward
towards the Guadalupe Mountains.
A camping place was found where a meal had
been cooked. Around the camp fire were tracks
made by young Fountain, showing that he was
still alive. On the ground lay a napMn, with some
small silver coins tied up in one corner. These had
been presented to the boy by the landlady of the
hotel in Tularosa.
Since then no trace has ever been found of Col.
Fountain or his son. It still remains one of the
mysteries of the White Sands.
Later an ex-convict in Arizona told me that the

A LONE STAR COWBOY 189
boy was Mlled and thrown into Lost River with his
father's body.
TMs Lost River would be an ideal place to hide
a crime, as the current would take a dead body
down stream, God knows where. This shallow
stream flows from the White Sands in an easterly
direction, towards the Guadalupe Mountains. It
only shows in one place — a round hole in the
earth, about twenty feet across it. I once laid flat
on my stomach at the edge of this hole and dipped
my had full of water from the stream, flowing
gently a few feet below.
The Mexicans in Tularosa cautioned Sam Cole
man and me not to drink this water, as it was
poison. Still we took a chance, without any bad
effects. It seems that the horse tracks of the murdering
gang led up to a certain cattle ranch. Pat Garrett
and his deputy, John P. Meadows, traced them
there. Later sheriff Garrett and his deputies had
a pitched battle at tiiis ranch house. In the fight
one of Garrett's deputies was shot and killed.
John P. Meadows escaped this battle by being
shot and wounded the day before, when he arrest
ed a Mexican horse thief.
The owner of tins cattle ranch and his chums
were finally tried for the murder of A. J. Foun
tain and his son, but "there being no proof that
they were dead, the jury had to bring in a verdict
of not guilty. TMs wound up the affair.

190 A LONE STAR COWBOY
When the Pat Cohglin case came up for trial
that ' ' Foxy" gentleman plead guilty to butchering
stolen cattle, after being warned by me not to. The
Judge fined him $250, along with the costs of the
Court. Thus did he dodge the penitentiary gates.
Now Mr. Poe brought a $10,000 damage sMt
against him. I have never learned how that dam
age case terminated.
Now I was free to ride back to the LX ranch in
the Panhandle of Texas, a distance of about 800
miles. In bidding Mr. and Mrs. George Nesbeth good-
by they told me that they were afraid to travel
over the White Sands road, for fear that Pat
Cohglin would have them waylaid and murdered,
for appearing against Mm as witnesses. Hence
they intended to lay over in Las Cruces a month
or two, and slip away when Cohglin got over his
angry spell.
They had taken up a homestead above Tularosa,
near Blazier's saw mill, on Tularosa River, and
intended to make their home there the rest of their
lives. At the point of the WMte Sands the whole
crowd of four were murdered. In a later chapter
I will give the facts of this murder, and the trial
of the two Mexicans, who confessed to commit
ting the crime for $100 of Pat Cohglin 's money.
While laying in Las Cruces I contracted a se
vere case of heart trouble over a pretty little,

A LONE STAR COWBOY 191
wealthy, Mexican girl, by the name of Magdalena
Ochoa. Therefore I concluded to start a small cat
tle ranch in tMs, Dona Ana County, so as to be
near the little Miss.
Cowboy Charlie Wall told me of a place that
would suit me for a ranch. TMs being Dog Can
yon, the rendezvous of that murdering old rene
gade Indian CMef, Victoria.
As Charlie Wall had to return to Ft. Stanton
he agreed to go with me to Dog Canyon, to ex
amine the water supply.
We started early one morning from the Monte
zuma Hotel. I threw a farewell kiss at Miss Mag
dalena, who sat in a window full of pretty flowers
and roses, opposite the hotel. As I rode away,
mounted on "Croppy," she threw a kiss back at
me which reduced the temperature of my heart.
A telegram had been received in Las Cruces
that morning, stating that old Victoria and his
band of warriors had crossed the Rio Grande
river at Colorow — above Las Cruces — during the
night, and killed three white men. That they
were headed toward Dog Canyon, but this news
didn't prevent Wall and me from making the
trip. We decided, though, not to camp over night
at Dog Canyon.
After passing through San Augustine Pass,
twenty-five miles out of Las Cruces, we left the
Avagon road and turned to the right, cutting

192 A LONE STAR COWBOY
across the desert for Dog Canyon, at the foot of
the Guadalupe Mountains.
On the second day out of Las Cruces we ate din
ner in Dog Canyon. It was a lovely spot, though
the stream of sparkling water flowing out of the
mountains through the canyon, was small.
I couldn't fully make lip my mind to enter a
government homestead at tMs rendezvous of old
Victoria. After maMng a hurried examination of the
land, and water up next to the steep mountains,
we rode north to La Luz, a Mexican village, where
we put up for the night.
Later a Frenchman took up Dog Canyon as a
homestead. He Avas finally assassinated by un
known parties in the log cabin which he had built.
From La Luz Charlie Wall and I rode north to
Tularosa, then turned east, up Tularosa creek
After crossing OArer the line of Dona Ana
County, into Lincoln County, we came to an al
falfa field to our left, where Charlie Wall had the
year previous fought a battle with a crowd of Tul
arosa Mexicans, who objected to Mm using water
to irrigate this alfalfa field.
When the smoke of battle cleared away four
Mexicans lay dead upon the ground, and young
Wall had two bullet holes in Ms body.
Wall had four men helping him irrigate, but
they took only a small part in the battle.
To prevent being mobbed, by the angry Tula-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 193
rosa Mexicans Wall and his companions made a
run for Lincoln, to surrender to sheriff Pat Gar
rett. The sheriff allowed them to wear their pistols
and to sleep in the jail.
After continuing our journey up the river
young Wall, who was a modest, truthful fellow,
gave me the full account of "Billy the Kid's"
escape, the year before.
Charlie Wall, not being seriously wounded, did
his loafing in the upstairs room of the Lincoln
Court-house, where "Billy the Kid" was being
guarded. In La Mesilla the "Kid" had been convicted for
the murder of Sheriff Brady, and Judge Bristol
had sentenced Mm to be hanged in Lincoln, on
May 13th, 1881.
On the morning of April 28th, while young
Wall was present in the room, Pat Garrett, who
was preparing to leave for White Oaks to have a
scaffold made, remarked to the "Kid's" two
guards: "Watch him carefully, boys, for he has
only a few days to live, and might make a break. ' '
Then Bob Olinger, who had fought against
"Billy the Kid" in the Lincoln County War,
stepped to a closet, against the wall and got his
double-barrel shot-gun.
Looking over towards the ' ' Kid, ' ' sitting on a
stool, shackled and handcuffed, Olliriger said:
' ' There are eighteen buckshot in each barrel and

194 A LONE STAR COWBOY
I reckon the man who gets them will feel it. You
needn't worry, Pat, we will catch him like a
goat. ' '
With one of his good-natured smiles the "Kid"
remarked. "You might be the one to get them
yourself. ' '
Now Ollinger put the gun back in the closet and
locked the door, putting the key in his pocket.
About five o'clock that evening Bob Ollinger
took Charlie Wall and the other four armed pris
oners across the wide street to the hotel for sup
per, leaving J. W. Bell alone to guard the "Kid."
While eating supper Wall says they heard a
shot fired in the court house. They all ran out on
the sidewalk. Ollinger ran towards the courthouse.
In the middle of the street he met the frightened
Mexican jailor, who said: "Bell has Mlled the
Kid." Now Ollinger quit running and Avalked to the
court-house. He had to go around to a side stairs,
as there was no up-stairs entrance from the front.
When passing underneath an upstairs window,
which was open, the "Kid" called out: "Hello
Bob!" Ollinger looked up and saw the "Kid",
and the shotgun pointed towards Mm. Then he
said, loud enough to be heard by Wall and the
other prisoners across the street. "Yes. he has
killed me, too ! ' '
These words were hardly out of the guard's

A LONE STAR COWBOY 195
mouth when a charge of buck-shot went through
his heart.
A moment later "Billy the Kid" hobbled out
on the small front porch. Around his waist were
two belts of cartridges and two pistols. In his
hands were the shot gun and a Winchester rifle.
These he had secured by kicking open the door to
the gun-closet. Noav the "Kid" took aim Avith the
shot-gun at the dead body of Ollinger and fired,
with the remark: "Take that, you s — of a b — ,
you will never follow me with that gun again."
Now he broke the gun in two and threw the pieces
at the corpse.
By this time the sidewalk on the opposite side
of the street was lined with people who had run
out of their houses, on hearing the shots.
Here "Billy the Kid" called to a Mexican,
whom he knew, telling him to throw up a file. This
was done, and the shackle chain was filed apart
in the center, leaAdng a shackle and piece of chain
on each leg.
Now the "kid" told the Mexican to put a sad
dle and bridle on the deputy County Clerk's black
pony — wMch had formerly been owned by the
"Kid" — and bring Mm out on the street.
TMs order was carried out.
The "Kid" now, after dancing a jig on the
front porch, went to the side stairs, thence to the
street, where the Mexican was holding the black
pony.

196 A LONE STAR COWBOY
In trying to mount the pony, the "Kid" being
encumbered with the heaAW load of guns and am
munition, he got loose and ran back to the stable
in the courthouse yard.
WMle waiting for the Mexican to bring the
pony back the "Kid" stood in the street holding
the rifle ready for action. He would have been an
easy target, had it not been that most of the men
watching him were sympathizers. Wall says he
could have killed him, but he wanted to see him
escape. When the pony was brought back, the "Kid"
gave the Mexican his rifle to hold, wMle he
mounted. Now "Billy the Kid" galloped west, waving his
hat and shouting: "Three cheers for Billy the
Kid." When the excitement was over Charlie Wall
says he helped the crowd care for the bodies of
the two guards. Bell was found at the foot of the
stairs with a bullet in his dead body.
The "Kid" told the Mexican friend, who
brought him the file and the pony, the secret of
Ms escape. He said Bell was sitting in a chair read
ing. Then he slipt his left hand out of the hand
cuffs and made a spring for the guard, striking
Mm on the head with the iron cuff. Instead of Bell
pulling his pistol, which was buckled around his

A LONE STAR COWBOY 197
waist, he threw both hands up to protect Ms head
from another blow.
Now the "Kid" grabbed the pistol from the
holster. Then Bell ran towards the head of the
stairs, and as he went to go down, the "Kid"
fired. The body went tumbling down the stairs,
falling onto the Mexican Jailor, who was sitting
at the foot of the stairs. This stampeded the
jailor, who ran out on the street where he met
Ollinger, telling him that Bell had killed the
"Kid." I am not sure that this Mexican was the jailor.
He may have been only an assistant.
After his escape "Billy the Kid" told Ms
friends that he had starved himself, so that the
hand-cuff could be slipped OATer his left hand. The
guards supposed he had lost Ms appetite over the
worry of his approacMng doom. He said wMle in
bed he used to slip the hand-cuff off to make sure
it could be done easily.
In Mlling Bob Ollinger the "Kid" only gave
him a dose of his own Mnd of medicine. While the
Lincoln County war was raging an acquaintance,
who was in sympathy with "Billy the Kid's"
crowd, stepped up to shake hands with Ollinger,
who grabbed the extended right hand with his left.
Then with his right hand drew his pistol and shot
the fellow to death, he being unable to pull his
pistol, as Ollinger was a powerful man, weighing
about two hundred pounds.

198 A LONE STAR COWBOY
On arriving in Ft. Stanton Charlie Wall and I
separated. 1 continued on to Lincoln, where I laid
over a few days. Pat Garrett and Mr. Poe had al
ready arrived in Lincoln from Las Cruces.
The next day after my arrival the sheriff held
an auction to sell "Billy the Kid's" saddle and
pistol. The deputy county clerk and I were the only
bidders for the Colts 41 caliber, double-action pis
tol, which the "Kid" held in Ms hand at the time
of his death.
My last bid was $13, what I thought it was ac
tually worth. The deputy clerk bid $13.50 and got
it. I heard that he afterwards sold it for $250 on
the strength of it's past history.
WMle laying over in Lincoln I learned the true
account of "Billy the Kid's" death from the three
men who had a hand in the affair. These men be
ing Pat Garrett, John W. Poe and "Kip" Mc-
Kinnie. Many stories have been circulated about the
under-handed manner in which Garrett murdered
the "Kid." Therefore I will here giA^e the true
account of it.
About July 1st, 1881 Pat Garrett received a
letter from a Mr. Brazil stating that the "Kid"
had been seen lately around Ft. Sumner.
The sheriff answered the letter telling Mr.
Brazil to meet Mm at the mouth of the Tayban

A LONE STAR COWBOY

199

Arroyo, on the Pecos river, after dark on July
13th. Now Garrett took Ms two deputies, John Poe

PAT GARRETT

200 A LONE STAR COWBOY
and "Kip" McKinnie, and started horse-back, for
the meeting place.
These three officers watched and wa'ted during
the whole night of July 13th, but Mr. Brazil failed
to show up.
On the morning of the 14th they rode up the
Pecos river. When opposite Ft. Sumner the sher
iff sent Mr. Poe into that abandoned fort, where
lived many Mexican families, to see if anytMng
could be learned about the "Kid" having been
there. T;hen Garrett and McKinnie rode six miles up
the river to Sunny-side, to keep in hiding until the
arrival of Mr. Poe.
About night John Poe reached Sunny-side and
reported to Garrett that he couldn't find out a
thing of importance about the "Kid." Then the
sheriff said they would ride into Ft. Sumner,
after dark, and see Pete Maxwell, a wealthy sheep
man, and the son of the famous Land Grant Max
well. The "Kid" was in love with Pete Maxwell's
sister, hence Garrett thinking that Pete might
have seen him hanging around their home.
It was dark when the three officers started on
their six mile journey.
Arriving in Ft. Sumner their horses were tied
in an old orchard. Then they walked into Pete
Maxwell's large, grassy yard. The residence was
a long adobe building fronting" south, with a cov
ered porch the full length of the adobe house, Gar-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 201
rett knew the room in which Pete generally slept.
The door of tMs room was open. The sheriff told
his two deputies to lie down on the grass, while he
went in to talk with Pete.
Now the sheriff lay over on Mr. Maxwell's bed
and began questioning Mm about the ' ' Kid. ' ' No
one outside of Mr. Garrett was to know Avhat Pete
told him.
In the rear of the Maxwell dwelling lived an old
Mexican servant, who was a warm friend to the
"Kid." Previous to the arrival of the sheriff and his
deputies, "Billy the Kid" had entered this old
servant's adobe cabin. The old man had gone to
bed. "Billy the Kid" lit the lamp; then pulled off
Ms boots and coat and began reading the news
papers, which had been brought there for Ms
special benefit.
After glancing over the papers the "Kid" told
the old man to get up and cook him some supper,
as he was very hungry, having just walked in
from the sheep camp.
The old servant told him that he didn't have
any meat in the house. Then the ' ' Kid ' ' replied :
"I'll go and see Pete and get some. ' ' Now he pick
ed up a butcher knife from the table and started,
bare-footed and bareheaded.
In walking along the porch of Pete's room,

202 A LONE STAR COWBOY
"Kip" McKinnie saw Mm coming, but supposed
he was one of the servants.
When nearly opposite Pete's room "Kip" rais
ed up and Ms spur rattled, which attracted the
"Kid's" attention. Pulling Ms pistol he asked in
Spanish: "Quien es? Quien es?" (Who's there,
who's there?)
Not getting an answer he backed into Pete's
room and asked: "Pete, who's out there?"
Maxwell didn't reply. Now the "Kid" saAv
strange movements in the bed and asked: "Who
in the h — 1 is in here?"
With the pistol raised in his right hand, andi
the butcher knife in his left, he began fighting
across the room. Pete whispered in the sheriff's
ear. "Thats Mm Pat "
By this time the "Kid" had backed to the dim
moonlight coming through the south window,
whicli shone directly on him, making him a easy
target for the sheriff. Bang! went Garrett's Colts
pistol, and down went a once mother's darling,
shot through the heart.
After the first shot, the sheriff cocked the pis
tol and it went off accidentally, putting a hole in
the ceiling.
The next day Billy Bonney, alias "Billy the
Kid", was buried by the side of Ms chum, Tom
0. Phalliard, in the old military cemetery.
A few months later Pat Garrett had the bodA-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 203
dug up to see if the "Kid's" trigger finger had
been cut off, but it had not.
A man in the East was showing the front fin
ger of a man, preserved in alcohol. He claimed it
Avas "Billy the Kid's trigger finger. The news
papers had sensational accounts of it.
Years later when the Umted States Govern
ment employed Will Griffin to remove all dead
bodies of soldiers in the Ft. Sumner grave yard,
to the National Cemetery in Santa Fe, the graves
of "Billy the Kid" and Tom 0 'Phalliard were the
only ones left.
Mr. Griffin, who is still a resident of Santa Fe,
says at the time he moved the soldiers bodies
there was a board slab marking the "Kid's"
grave. Now that old cemetery is an alfalfa field,
and those two outlaw graves may have become
obliterated. Before leaving Lincoln, I bade Pat Garrett and
John K. Poe goodbye, and never met them again
for many years.
Soon after my departure Mr. Poe was elected
sheriff of Lincoln County. He afterwards settled
in the Pecos Valley, and at this time is a wealthy
banker and land owner in the beautiful little city
of Roswell, N. M.
On my way home I stopped a few days to visit
friends in White Oaks.
I finally arrived at the LX ranch in the Texas
Panhandle, after an absence of eight months, and
after having ridden horse-back about 3000 miles.

BILLY THE KID

A LONE STAR COWBOY 205
CHAPTER LX
I BECOME MERCHANT IN CALDWELL,
KANSAS. HISTORY OF THE OPENING
OF OKLAHOMA TO SETTLEMENT.
Shortly after my return from New Mexico, Mr.
Hollicot put me in charge of eight hundred fat
steers to be driven slowly to Caldwell, Kansas, on
the southern boundary of that state.
My outfit consisted of a cook, to drive the mess-
wagon, and five riders, with six horses for each
cowboy. The fourth day of July we were on the north
Staked Plains, and laid over to celebrate the glo
rious Fourth by resting.
During the forenoon I killed my last buffalo. A
small herd passed our camp and I roped a fat
heifer calf, with the intention of taking it to Cald
well with us, but Lon Chambers and some ol the
boys begged that she he butchered for supper.
Their wish was complied with, and we enjoyed
buffalo calf -meat for several days.
The next mormng while hunting lost horses I
rode by a bleached buffalo carcas. On one horn
had been cut. Through curiosity I dismounted to
make an examination. Imagine my surprise on
finding my own initials, C. A. S., and the year
1877 cut into the horn.
Now the Mlling of this buffalo bull came back

206 A LONE STAR COWBOY
to my memory, I had forgotten all about the af
fair. In the early winter of 1877 I was caught on
these plains in a severe blizzard and snow storm.
Seeing a lone buffalo bull ahead of me, I made a
dash for Mm, planting a bMlet under his hump
before he had time to escape.
My pony being hungry and tired, I pulled the
bridle off to let him graze, tying the end of the
rope to the bull's hind leg.
Now to shield myself from the cold north wind
I lay down on the south side of the dead animal,
with my head near his horns^.
While waiting for the pony to fill up, I cut my
initials and the year on one horn.
In order to get these horns to camp I had to
drag the head at the end of a rope, as they couldn 't
be separated from the skull.
Now after the passing of thirty-six years this
pair of buffalo horns are hanging on the wall of
my bed-room to remind me of the days when mil
lions of buffalo roamed over the Staked Plains,
The bleached carcasses of these wooly beasts
became a God-send to the wise "hoe men" who la
ter settled on these plains. Buffalo bones almost
became legal-tender, after railroads, were built. A
wagon load of bones would purchase a good sup
ply of food and clothing.
These new settlers who got the first grab at the
pile of bones on the head of Tule Canyon, where

A LONE STAR COWBOY 207
General McKinzie, in 1874, killed the thousands of
Comanche ponies, had a snap.
The chances are some human bones were gath
ered along with the buffalo carcasses, and traded
for sugar to make taffy for the little hoe people.
I once found a pile of human bones on the north
Staked Plains. They were in a round pile, and
bleached white. Many buffalo carcases being near
by. Whoever piled up these bones into a round
mound must have known the gentleman who once
carried them around with him. On top of the pile
was the bleached shoulder blade of a buffalo, on
which was carATed:
"Here lies the bones of poor Kid Cones,
Whose greatest sin was the love of gin. ' '
We arrived in Caldwell, the "Queen City of
the border," about the first of September.
The first man met whom I knew, in this town of
over a thousand people, was Henry Brown of
"Billy the Kid's" gang, wearing a gold star, as
City Marshal. He begged me not to give Mm
away, as he had reformed and intended to lead an
upright life.
I foolishly promised to keep the secret to my
self. Later he shot and killed an Indian chief,
"Spotted Horse," and a cowboy named Boyce, in
a cold-blooded manner. It seems he had murder
in Ms heart.
About two years later while still holding the

208

A LONE STAR COWBOY

position of City Marshal, he and his deputy, Ben
Wheeler, and two cowboy friends, rode into Medi
cine Lodge in broad daylight, without masks, and
held up the only bank in the town, killing the
president, Wiley Payne, and Ms casMer, George
Jeppert. In making their get-away, in a rainstorm, head
ed for the Indian Territory, with a mob of enrag
ed citizens on their trail, they butted up against
a new barbed wire fence and couldn't get through
it. Now they turned west along the fence and came
to a deep canyon which couldn't be crossed.
Finding themselves hemmed in, with the armed

BARNEY O'CONNOR

TOM DORAN

A LONE STAR COWBOY 209
mob near by, they dismounted and ran down into
the canyon afoot, concealing themselves under an
overhanging shelf of rock.
The creek kept on rising, inch by inch, finally
driving them out of their hiding place, to the open.
Many guns from above were leveled at them, and
up went their hands.
The leaders of the pursuing party were both
cowboy friends of mine, Barney O'Connor and
Tom Doran. Mr. 0 'Connor is now a wealthy cat
tle man of Garden City, Kansas, arid Thomas
Doran, with the help of his good-looking, ener
getic, and jovial wife, is, at this writing, running
the Montezuma Hotel in Santa Fe, and the Hotel
Doran in the city of Albuquerque, New Mexico.
The four prisoners were taken to Medicine
Lodge and their pictures taken, then put into the
jail. After dark a mob was formed and a rush made
for the jail. When the door was opened Henry
Brown and Ben Wheeler made a break for liberty.
Henry Brown received a charge of buckshot, and
fell over dead. Ben Wheeler's shirt was set on
fire by a shot fired at close range. The blaze from
his burning shirt as he ran in the dark made him
an easy target for the swift runners behind him.
A bullet finally broke his leg.
Now he was carried back and compelled to
watch the mob hang his two cowboy companions,
then he, too, was strung up on the tree.

210

A LONE STAR COWBOY

Barney O'Connor fell heir to the fine gold
mounted Winchester rifle, which the citizens of
Caldwell had presented to Henry Brown — their
model law-officer.

HENRY BROWN

BEN WHEELER

Soon after arriving in Caldwell our herd of
steers were tnrned loose on the new steer ranch on
Turkey Creek, in the Indian Territory, which the
LX company had lately established.
Now with my outfit I attended the cattle round
ups in the western part of the Indian Territory,
gathering lost LX steers.
It was the last part of November when our
work was finished. Then we returned to Caldwell,

A LONE STAR COWBOY 211
where Mr. David T. Beals was awaiting my re
turn. He had purchased a farm on the Indian
Territory line, two miles southeast of Caldwell,
on which to winter the LX cow-ponies.
I was given charge of this farm, and the more
than one hundred head of cow-ponies.
Noav I bought some town lots and contracted
the building of a new frame residence. Then I
boarded a train for southern Texas to get Mother.
I went by way of St. Louis to visit my sister
Mrs. George W. Wines, and her family. While in
that city I dropped into the Planter's Hotel to
note the changes since I was bell-boy in that swell
hostelry. The red-headed bell-boy, Jimmy Byron, with
whom I had the fight, which caused me to throw
up the job as "bell-hop", was now owner of the
news-stand. We buried the hatchet of past hatred
and shook hands.
The former steward was now the proprietor,
and "Old Mike" was still the watchman. The
chief clerk, Cunningham, who had slapped me for
fighting while on duty, was still holding down his
job, but I didn't shake hands with him.
My rail-road journey was continued to the city
of Galveston, in order to visit my Uncle, Nick
White, and his family. Then a Morgan steam-ship
was boarded for what was left of Indianola, since
the great storm of 1875 had washed it away.
My boyhood playmates, Johnny and Jimmie

212 A LONE STAR COWBOY
Williams, were in Indianola with their sail-boat,
and they took me to Matagorda.
In Matagorda I laid over a few days visiting
my hundreds of friends. Then Jim Keller loaned
me a horse and saddle and I rode to Mother on
Cashes Creek.
Now I hired Fred Cornelius to take Mother and
me over to the Sunset rail-road, fifty miles north.
Mother and I arrived in Caldwell, Kansas, a
few days before Christmas. Furniture was bought
and a "Home, sweet home" established in my
new house.
Now I took charge of the horse ianch, south
east of town, and put in a pleasant winter.
About the first of March I received a letter
from Mr. Beals, in Boston, Mass., ordering me to
take my crew of cowboys and cow-ponies back to
the LX ranch in the Texas Panhandle.
That night after receiving the orders, I at
tended church with Miss May Be&i". a niece of
David T. Beals. When church was over she intro
duced me to her pretty little fifteen year old,
black-eyed chum, Mamie Lloyd.
Now I was a sure enough locoed (crazy) cowboy
— up to my ears in love.
Six days later, in the Phillips Hotel, in Welling
ton," the county-seat of Sumner County, Kansas, I
was married to Mamie Lloyd — the only daughter
of H. Clay Lloyd, of Shelbysville, Illinois. In nail
ing this pretty little miss to the matrimonial cross

A LONE STAR COWBOY

213

I "shore" won a prize. But the poor girl only liv
ed six years after our marriage, dying in my

MAMY AND VIOLA

arms in Denver, Colorado. She left a five year
old daughter, Viola, to nearly cry her eyes out
over the loss of a fond mother. Now this once baby
girl, Viola, lives in San Diego, California, and has
an only daughter, twelve years of age, of her own,
her name being Margaret Reid.
Three days after marrying I started for the
Panhandle of Texas in charge of twenty-five cow-

214 A LONE STAR COWBOY
boys, one hundred cow-ponies and six mess wag
ons. A journey of eighteen days brought us to the
LX ranch.
After a few days rest Mr. Hollicot sent me in
charge of a crew to attend round-ups on Red
River, and Peas River, in the south-eastern part
of the Panhandle.
We arrived at the LX ranch on July 1st with
about 3000 head of cattle, which had strayed
off during the winter.
Now I started back to Caldwell with 800 fat
steers, arriving there about September the first.
Mr. Beals ordered me to take my outfit back to
the Panhandle at once and get another herd of
fat steers. TMs I started to do, but after Mr.
Beals had taken the train for the east, I suddenly
changed my mind, I then turned the outfit over to
one of my cowboys, Charlie Sprague, who started
for the Panhandle after the other herd.
Then I swore off being a Avild and woolly cow
boy. I hated to quit the LX outfit, as Mr. David T.
Beals was the best man I had ever vorked for. He
was an honest, broad-gauge cattle-man.
Many years afterwards I visited him in Kansas
City, not knowing that he was almost at the point
of death.
On arrival in Kansas City, I dropped into the
Union National Bank, of which Mr. Beals was

A LONE STAR COWBOY 215
president: The cashier, Mr. Neal, informed me
that Mr. Beals was very sick, but would, no doubt,
like to see me.
Arriving at the swell residence, 25 Indepen
dence Avenue, which, along with the grounds,
covered a half city block, I rang the door bell. The
young lady servant informed me that the doctor
had given orders that no one be allowed to see Mr.
Beals. Writing a note to the sick man on a card, I de
parted. Before reaching the street Mrs. Beals call
ed me back. She said Mr. Beals would never for
give me if I left without seeing him.
When I reached the sick chamber Mr. Beals sat
up, propped against pillows, and gave me a hearty
welcome. He said my presence made him feel bet
ter. We "harked back" to the good old cattle days
until the five o. 'clock dinner was ready, then,
strange to relate, the old gentleman accompanied
me down to the dining room, and ate a hearty
meal — the first for a long time.
After Mr. Beals had gone back to bed, Ms wife
showed me through the two rooms full of the most
costly wedding presents a cowboy ever laid eyes
on. Many of them came from London and Paris.
A few days previous their only daughter, Miss
Dora, had married a young Kansas City business
man, and they had gone away on their wedding
tour.

216 A LONE STAR COWBOY
The only child left was David T. Beals, Jr. —
almost grownto manhood. As a baby he had cost
his father $5000 in hard cash.
When about six weeks old he was kidnapped.
Mr. Beals put advertisements in the city papers
offering a reward of $5,000 for the return of the
baby, and no questions would be asked. That the
money would be in the house ready to be handed
over when the baby was returned.
Two days later, after dark, a rap brought the
cook to the kitchen door. There stood a man and
woman, who told the cook to tell Mr. Beals to
come and get this baby boy.
Putting the infant in it's mother's arms Mr.
Beals got the bag of money and gaA7e it to the
kidnappers, who departed.
After the death of Mr. Beals, young David T.
Beals stepped into Ms father's shoes, and is now
a successful banker, with a happy family of his
own. Now I rented a store room on Main Street and
opened a tobacco and cigar store, with confection-
aries as a side issue. I scraped together a few hun
dred dollars, in order to get started. After that
the sailing was easy, as my credit was unlimited.
Finally I rented an adjoining store room, and
cut an arch-way between the two. In tMs I opened
up an ice-cream and oyster parlor.
Soon I had five clerks and attendants in my
employ.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 217
About this time there was great excitement over
the opening of OMahoma to settlement. Soldiers
were kept on the border of the Indian Territory
to keep the "OMahoma boomers" out of the
"promised land."
Still the "boomers" would slip by the soldiers
in the mght. Many were arrested and jailed in
WicMta. Capt. D. L. Payne was at the head of the move
ment, and Capt. Couch was second in command.
While the soldiers were napping several hun
dred ' ' Oklahoma boomers ' ' stole a march on them
in the night. The next day the "Oklahoma War
Chief," with Samuel Croker as editor in Chief,
was issued in it's new home, a frame shack hauled
over the line from Kansas.
This, the first newspaper ever published in Ok
lahoma, was issued several miles south of the line,
on Chikaskia Creek, south-east of Hunnewell,
Kansas. With the large croAvd gathered together, at the
"Oklahoma War Chief's" new home, a photo
graph was taken.
Of course the United States Soldiers, stationed
at Caldwell, finally woke up and captured the
"Oklahoma War Chief" and it's editor, burning
the shack, and marcMng the big and little "boom
ers" back over the line into Kansas.
On one of these raids into OMahoma, Capt. D.
L. Payne built a log house, on the Canadian River,

'OKLAHOMA WAR CHIEF"

A LONE STAR COWBOY 219
and established a home. But his "home, sweet
home" only lasted until the soldiers coMd reach
him. His photograph and the log house was tak
en before his arrest.
Big-hearted Capt. D. L. Payne, the hero of all
"boomers," died before Oklahoma was opened to
settlement. He dropped dead while eating a meal
at a hotel in Wellington, Kansas.
Now Capt. Bill Couch stepped into Capt. Payne's
shoes, and became the "big chief" of the "Okla
homa boomers."
Owing to the fact that their bitter enemies, the
U. S. Soldiers and the Indian Territory cattle
men, made Caldwell their headquarters, the
"boomers" left, and established headquarters in
Arkansas City, Kansas, thirty-five miles east.
TMs didn't suit the citizens and business men
of Caldwell, so one night we held a mass-meeting
to remedy the matter.
It was Saturday night. A collection of $600 in
cash was taken up, and a Mr. Miller and I were
appointed a committee to visit Arkansas City, on
the quiet, and induce the "boomers" to re-estab
lish headquarters in Caldwell.
Bright and early Sunday morning Mr. Miller
and I started east in a buggy, drawn by a spirited
pair of sorrels.
We arrived in the "boomer's" camp, in the out
skirts of Arkansas City, in time to eat dinner with
Capt. Couch, his secretary, John A. Blackburn,

220

A LONE STAR COWBOY

CAPT. D. L. PAYNE

A LONE STAR COWBOY 221
and Samuel Crocker, who had brought the ' ' Okla
homa War Chief" back to life.
Mr. Miller and I explained our business, and
showed the $600 collected the night before. And
we promised that more money would be produced
to feed the little hungry ' ' boomers ' ' Avhen needed.
There were many poverty-stricken "boomers"
with large families, who needed free grub and
clothing. After dinner Capt. Couch called the people to
gether, and in a speech, told them of our mission.
A vote was taken, and carried, to re-establish
headquarters in Caldwell.
Now Mr. Miller and I paid over the $600, and
returned home.
Early the next morning the road along the
Kansas border was lined with the 600 big and lit
tie "boomers," some afoot and others in vehicles.
Arkansas City was angry when she awoke to
the fact that Caldwell had stolen a march on her,
while she slept.'
Soon after this I became the "Oklahoma bord
er" cigar' King. A lot of 100,000 cigars were or
dered from an eastern factory, put up in my own
special brand, called "The Oklahoma Boomer."
They sold like hot cakes.
In order to catch the cowboy trade, coming to
town from the Indian Territory, I had a large
oil-painting made, which was locked with iron

222 A LONE STAR COWBOY
chains to the overhead frame work of the iron
bridge across Bluff Creek.
The painting showed a mounted cowboy with a
long-horn steer at the end of his rope. Over this
was my "Oklahoma Boomer" cigar advertise
ment. Cowboys leaving toAvn drunk were in the habit
of shooting this nice oil painting full of holes.
The last time I saw it about tAventy years later, it
was riddled with bullet holes.
On the first day of May, 1885, Caldwell put on
her Sunday Clothes and held a grand cowboy tour
nament at the fair grounds. Cowboys and cattle
men from all over the Indian Territory were there
to witness the sport.
One of the games was catching small rings with
a long pole, while the pony was running Ms best,
the prize being a fine ladies gold ring.
I had promised my sixteen year old wife that
she would wear the ring, and the promise was ful
filled, as I won against the dozens of competitors.
In the steer-roping match I won a fine silver
cup, hog-tying the steer in forty-four seconds. The
first time I threw him he jumped to his feet, af
ter I had dismounted. Then springing back in the
saddle, I had to throw him again. Even with all
this lost time the silver cup was awarded to me,
and it is kept as a relic of by-gone days.
My mount was a "cracker- jack," black pony

A LONE STAR COWBOY 223
borrowed from Cattle King John Blair, now an
automobile dealer of Wichita, Kansas.
While running my store I wore high-heel cow
boy boots, and red silk sash around my Avaist.
Finally my silk sash disappeared, and another
couldn't be purchased in this northern country.
There was notiring to do but wear suspenders to
keep my pants up, and this almost broke my heart.
Several months later "Shanghai" Pierce stop
ped off in Caldwell, and took dinner with us.
While at the dinner table Mr. Pierce expressed
surprise at me wearing suspenders, instead of a
silk sash. Here Mamie, my girl wife, confessed
that she had burnt my silk sash, so that I would
have to wear suspenders. Of course I forgave her
before she died.
The "OMahoma boomers" increased in num
bers, and kept the soldiers busy running them
out of the milk and honey land. Finally Congress
passed a bill opening Oklahoma to settlement.
In the spring of 1899, Avhen the grand rush was
made for free homes in Oklahoma, by the thous
ands of "boomers," cattle men and cow-boys, it
became the greatest human stampede ever pulled
off. The rush was made from all sides, but the great
est crowd was on the Kansas border, where a large
force of U. S. Soldiers held the crowds back un
til the word was given to "go."
Now a new state was born, though she was kept

224 A LONE STAR COWBOY
in baby "Panties" for several years; then allow
ed to wear Statehood clothing, adding another
star to our glorious American Flag.
On the first anniversary of the opening of Ok
lahoma, in the spring of 1890, I helped celebrate
the day in the swift little city of El Reno, built
on the old Chisholm cattle trail, a few miles be
low Ft. Reno, on the North Canadian River.
In the short period of one year many other em
bryo cities sprang up, on, or near the CMshohn
trail, among them being Hennessey, Enid and
Kingfisher. A year or two later, Chickasha, now
one of the leading cities of Oklahoma, sprang into
existence on the Washita River.
The next day after the anniversary celebration,
in El Reno, I Adsited Oklahoma City — now the
capital, and largest city in the state.
Here I found a city of tents and shacks scatter
ed all over creation.
My friend, Samuel Crocker, editor of the ' ' Ok
lahoma War Chief," was found living on Ms
homestead at the edge of town. He had already
sold 80 acres of his 160 acre tract, as city lots.
Poor Capt. Couch, of the original "OMahoma
boomers," had secured a farm near Oklahoma
City, but it cost him his life, as he was shot and
killed in a dispute over the claim.
I found my friend, John A. Blackburn, secre
tary of the original "boomers," had been elect
ed county clerk in OMahoma City.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 225
Many fortuens were made in Oklahoma City
real estate, and in a few years costly business
blocks were erected. The Colcord Building was
the pride of the city in. later years. It was built by
Col. Colcord who, in the early cattle days, owned
the stage line south of Caldwell. The opening of
Oklahoma had made him wealthy, placing him on
"easy street," along with hundreds of other old-
timers who had endured hardships along the Kan
sas and Indian Territory border.
Two years and a half as a successful business
man swelled my head, so that I thought I was a
antural born financier. Caldwell became too small
for a man of my caliber. Therefore, the store and
other interests were sold, and in the early spring
of 1886, I moved to the city of Chicago, a place
more fitting for the expansion of my financial
abilities. A few months in that great city convinced me
that the proper place for me to shine was in the
saddle. I had butted into men with genius finan
cial abilities, and in short order, they almost put
me on the "Bum."

226 A LONE STAR COWBOY
CHAPTER X.
A VISIT TO MY OLD STAMPING GROUND
IN SOUTHERN TEXAS.
THE TRUE HISTORY OF THE STARTING,
AND NAMING OF THE OLD CHIS
HOLM CATTLE TRAIL
During the spring of 1886, while I was living in
the city of Chicago, the great Haymarket riot
took place. A bomb thrown into a squad of police
men killed and Avounded sixty officers
The excitement over the matter made me think
that I might be a natural born detective instead
of a financier. Hence I applied for a position Avith
Pinkerton's National Detective Agency, and was
accepted. They had just established a branch ag
ency in Denver, Colorado, and needed a cowboy
detective out there to work on the western cattle
ranges, and among outlaws.
The first work assigned to me in Chicago was
on the haymarket Anarchist case. I continued on
it until the leaders ; Ling, Parsons, Engel, Fisher,
Schwab, Fielding and Neebe were convicted, four
being hanged, and two sent to the penitentiary.
Ling blew his head off with a bomb, in the jail,
before the time for execution.
During the fall I departed for Denver, Colo
rado, where, for twenty-two long years I made my

A LONE STAR COWBOY 227
headquarters, and continued in the employ of the
Pinkerton Agency.
Naturally these twenty-two years proved a
great schooling for a once Avild and woolly cow
boy. Many times my life was saved by a mere
hairs-breadth, and I had the opportunity of see
ing parts of the United States, Old Mexico. Brit
ish Columbia and the coast country of Alaska.
During eight months of this time I was in the
saddle as a "cowboy-outlaw" in the mountains of
Kentucky and Virginia.
One of my operations in the saddle as a "cow
boy outlaw," under assumed names, as a member
of the "Wild Bunch" of "bad" men, lasted for
four years, until one of the Avorst gangs of mur
derers, train and bank robbers, were broken up.
This operation took me into all the western states
and Old Mexico, also into Tennessee and Arkan
sas. My work through the Bad Lands of South Da
kota placed me among a new kind of fool hoe-
men." The new settlers of Texas and Oklahoma
had it easy, compared with these Bad Land set
tlers. Many times during the winter months I have
put up for the night in one of the sod houses called
"home sweet home" by these hardy "Hoe-men."
when it was impossible to get near the stove, or
fire-place, on account of the shivering children
huddled around the fire to keep Avarm.

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OF SOUTH DAKOTA
A LONE STAR COWBOY 229
In many cases Avood or coal had to be hauled
thirty to fifty miles, so you can imagine the neces
sity for small fires, even though the thermome
ter was hovering below the zero mark Abo in
some cases water had to be hauled long distances.
Those same conditions existed in parts of
North Dakota, Montana, Wyoming and Nebraska.
By rights Uncle Sam should have furnished
free fuel and water to go with the free land given
to these "fool-hoe-men" of the north.
Nearly a year of my time was spent in the sad
dle in the Horse Heaven country of eastern Ore
gon, where I saw more fine range horses than I
had eA^er seen before. It should have been named
Cowboy Heaven, as good horses means Heaven to
a cowboy. Here, even in mid-Avinter, these thousands of
wild horses could fill up on green bunch grass by
pawing the snow away. They were kept seal fat
the year 'round. One man in Crook County, a Mr.
Brown, had 5000 horses on his range and they
were all well-bred stock.
During the early '90s I concluded to take anoth
er matrimonial chance. This time is was a pretty
blue-eyed girl, Miss Lillie Thomas, of Denver. We
lived together long enough to have one son. Lee
Roy, who at this writing, has discarded his sol
diers uniform, which he put on to help lick that
Kaiser Wilhelm bunch. He is now back in a South-

230 A LONE STAR COWBOY
ern California bank, holding down an official po
sition. Lillie and I agreed to disagree because she
wanted to live in Los Angeles, California, while I
insisted on making the Rocky Mountains my home.
Although the matrimonial knot was severed, we
still remain good friends, and correspond with
each other. She often sends me nice fruits from
her California orchard.
In the fall of 1887, one year after landing in
Denver, I took part in a roping and riding match
which took place at the Riverside Park. It was the
first cowboy tournament ever pulled off in Den-
A^er, and the whole city turned out to see it.
I had just returned from a cowboy operation in
western Colorado, and had sold my saddle. Hence
I had to hire an old Texas saddle for the tourna
ment. I also hired a small white cow-pony for the
occasion. Here is what the two leading daily papers, the
Republican, and the Rocky Mountain News said
about me the next morning. I was under the as
sumed name of "Dull Knife," as I didn't want
the public to know who I was :
"When Dull Knife rode in armed with pearl-
handled pistol and knife, a gold embroidered
Mexican sombrero on Ms head, and mounted on a
quick-reined white pbny, he was such a perfect
and graceful type of a Texas cowboy that the
audience gave one spontaneous Ah-h-a of admir-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 231
ation. The little white pony was a daisy and ran
up on Dull Knife's broncho easy. Dull Knife was
the only man this day to rope and throw Ms bron
cho on horseback. But the rope had fouled in the
broncho's mane, and it was choking to death, so
Dull Knife cut the rope, mercifully freed the
broncho and lost his time to ride. Dull Knife es
sayed roping and tying but luck was against him.
The horn of his light Mexican saddle broke off
close to the fork. Regaining Ms rope he tied it in
the forks of his saddle, and tried it again, but his
beautiful little cut horse was too light to hold the
big burley steer which dragged it all over the cor
ral, so Dull Knife, chafing with chagrin, had to
give in to hard luck and call it a draw."
The other daily paper gave this account :
"None knew who the next man was who rode
out on a white pony. They called him Dull Knife,
and he was from Meeker. That was all the infor
mation obtainable. But Dull Knife was a daisy.
With wMte sombrero, Mexican saddle, leather
chaparejos, flaming red handkerchief, belt and
pearl handled revolver and knife, he was all that
the eastern imagination of the typical cowboy
could picture. A bay was pointed out to Mm
and away they flew. Tt didn't take that cunning-
bay broncho more than a minute to find out that
he was wanted. With all the natural cussedness of
his breed it didn't take him more than a second to
determine that he would fool somebody. Dashing

232 A LONE STAR COWBOY
here and there, with flashing eyes and streaming-
mane and tail, the animal was a pretty picture.
The white pony was too cunning for Mm though,
and soon put his rider in a position where the
rope could be thrown and the arched neck caught
in the running loop. The captive was thrown,
then Dull Knife made a sMllful move. He cut the
rope loose and held the struggling animal by the
nose. But while he was subduing the horse, the
man had gotten too far away from Ms saddle and
couldn't get back to it. The judges at length called
time and the pretty bay was free.
"Dull Knife and E. A. Shaeffer next stretched
a steer in quick time. ' '
The reason I lost my chance to ride this wild
broncho was because, in running from my mount
to the fallen broncho, the hackamore and leather
blind fell to the ground, away from my reach, and
according to the rules, no one was allowed to hand
them to me. They had been tucked under my pistol
belt. There I sat on the broncho's neck, holding
him down by the nose, with the hackamore and
blind almost within reach. There was nothing to
do but free the animal.
Had it not been for this mishap, I feel confident
that I would have won the large prize. Still, the
managers of the tournament presented me with a
special prize of fifteen dollars, for "sMllful cow
boy work."
In the early fall of 1907, after a twenty-two

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Supt. Live Stock Department
/14J. . ...ENTRY tl^skK.

CHECK FOR SKILLFUL COWBOY WORK

234 A LONE STAR COWBOY
years eventful life as a cowboy detective, I resign
ed from Pinkerton's National Detective Agency,
and moved onto my Sunny Slope ranch in the out
skirts of the capital city of Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Many years before, I had selected Santa Fe as a
home, owing to its fine summer climate, and the
broad-gauge, brotherly spirit of its citizens.
Even though I had two pet saddle horses to
ride, I found this "simple life" not strenuous
enough. Therefore I accepted a detective opera
tion at eight dollars a day and all expenses, which
came to me through the Wm. J. Burns Detective
Agency of Chicago, as they had no suitable detec
tive for the work, which was to be done in the
state of Nevada.
I was absent on this operation, which proved a
success to the clients, nearly a year, and made
some easy money.
In 1910 the Wm. J. Burns Detective Agency, of
Chicago, employed me on another operation, in
Arizona, to decide who had robbed a bank there.
As I decided that "Kid Curry" was the robber, I
will here give a sketch of his life, and the daring
robbery in Arizona.
Among the latter-day "bad" men, Harvey Lo
gan, alias "Kid Curry" had no equal as a dare
deAdl. He was brought up in Dodson, Missouri, above
Kansas City, and at an early age drifted to Texas
and Colorado to become a cowboy.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 235
In 1884 he got into a "jack-pot" in Pueblo,
Colorado, and had to hit the high places to escape
the officers of the law, several bullets striking the
buggy in which he made his getaway.
He finally landed in the Judith Basin, Montana,
and with his brothers, Johnny and Loney, started
in the cattle and horse business, with no capital
but branding irons and lassos.
A few years later, in a saloon fight, he killed old
Pike Landusky, in the Little RocMes of northern
Montana. Now he became an outlaw right. In Nebraska
he held up a bank, and was shot through the wrist
while maMng Ms get-away. TMs wound branded
him for life. Had it not been for Ms wound,
some of his friends might tMnk that his body now
lies in a train-robber's grave, on Grand River in
Colorado. A train was held up, and one of the robbers
Mlled; his body being identified by a man who
was supposed to know, as that of "Kid Curry."
Later the body was dug up to see if there was a
wound in the Avrist, but there was not.
At the time of this train hold-up, the newspa
pers were full of the account of "Kid Curry's"
connection with it, and of his death. Soon after,
one of "Kid Curry's" chums, Jim Furgerson,
who lived near the scene of the robbery, wrote
me, under my assumed name of Harry Blevins to
Silver City, New Mexico, telling of the robbery,

236 A LONE STAR COWBOY
and of how the officers thought the dead robber
was "Kid Curry." The letter stated: "The man
who was killed, stopped with me up to the time the
train was held up, and I know he was not "Kid
Curry. ' '
This letter should be on file in Wm. J. Burns '
Agency, in Los Angeles, California, as I sent it to
the superintendent there, as proof that the man
buried on Grand River was not ' ' Kid Curry. ' '
Jim Furgerson, who wrote me this letter, was
an ex-convict outlaw, and was in Nebraska when
"Kid Curry" was shot in the wrist.
He had no reason to write me a falsehood, as
he supposed I was an outlaw. In about the year
1910, the Gila Valley Bank, in Morencia, Arizona,
was held up by a lone robber.
Morencia is a mining camp of about 5,000 popu
lation. It is situated in a basin, with no way to get
in or out on horseback, except down the canyon
past the machine-shop, where 250 men were em
ployed. About 10 A. M. the lone robber tied Ms horse
in front of the hotel and bank; the bank being on
the lower floor and the hotel upstairs.
Carrying a double canvas bag in his hand, the
robber entered the bank. He then deliberately
pulled down the shade, or curtain, to the glass
front door which he locked. Now he threw his
Colt's pistol down on the cashier and bookkeeper,

A LONE STAR COWBOY 237
the only occupants of the bank. Of course their
hands went up in the air.
On reacMng the inside of the private enclosure,
the bandit asked the cashier to dump Ms loose
change into the canvas bag. This netted only
about $1,500.
Now the cashier was led into the outer vault,
the door of which was open. In one corner lay a
pile of silver dollars, in sacks. The cashier swore
by all that was holy, that he couldn't open the in
side vault, where the bulk of the money was kept,
as no one but the manager of the company store
knew the combination. Of course this was a false
hood but the bandit didn't know it.
The holdup man then held open his double-
geared sack and told the cashier to put in some
of the silver, which he did, putting in nine hun
dred dollars in all.
Now the robber called the bookkeeper and told
him and the cashier to get into the vault, so he
could lock them up. They both pleaded with him
not to shut them in the steel vault, as they would
smother before any one could find and release
them. A tender spot was touched in the bandit 's heart.
He asked if they would keep still and not give the
alarm until after he mounted Ms pony. They
promised by the Virgin Mary and all the saints in
Heaven. Now the robber shouldered his heavy sack and

238 A LONE STAR COWBOY
started for his mount, tied to the rack about one
hundred yards distant. He had only got half way
to the horse Avhen the cashier and bookkeeper came
out on the porch and cut down on him with a
double-barrel shotgun and a pistol. The charge of
shot hit the ground near his feet. He then coolly
sat the sack down, and pulling his pistol, made
the two bankers hide out. Bullets from Ms pistol
hit the walls close to them.
Now he shouldered the sack and got to his
horse, when an insurance agent ran out on the
porch and began shooting with a small twenty-
two caliber pocket pistol. No attention was paid
to this until after he had put the sack of money
over the saddle horn. Then he got his Winchester
rifle from the saddle scabbard, and took one shot
at the man with the toy pistol. The bullet from Ms
high power rifle buried itself in a pillar of the
porch, a few inches above the man's head. Of
course the fellow made himself scarce after this
shot. By this time the street in front of the company
store was full of laborers, attracted by the shoot
ing; also the road in front of the machine-shop,
over Avhich the robber had to go, Avas full of men.
Mounting Ms horse, and holding the rifle in his
right hand,, he went flying down the steep Mil. On
reaching the machine-shop, where the hundred or
more men were lined along the road, he checked
his mount up into a trot and turned the barrel of

A LONE STAR COWBOY 239
the rifle toward the crowd. TMs caused a scatter
ing; some crawling away on their hands and
knees. The bandit laughed loud enough to be heard by
some of these men, who told me about it a week
or so later.
Now the robber put spurs to his mount and
turned to the west, over a side road. He could see
the two deputy sheriffs — who had run into the
store to get rifles — coming on his trail as fast as
their horses could run.
On reaching the top of a ridge the bandit quit
the road and turned down a gulch.
When the officers came in sight the robber was
several hundred yards down the gulch. Soon he
disappeared. He had jumped his mount over a
precipice, twelve feet high, into a sandy arroyo.
On reaching the place the officers could see the
horse's tracks in the sand, going down the bed of
the gulch.
These officers were old time cowboys, but they
didn't have the nerve to jump over the cliff — and
I couldn't blame them after seeing the place, at
which time the robber's horse tracks still showed
in the sand.
The distance of the first tracks from the cliff
showed that the horse was running when he went
over. There was nothing for the officers to do but to
go down the ridge quite a distance, to the first

240 A LONE STAR COWBOY
place where they could enter the gulch. They
found the robbers tracks and followed them . 'till
they were lost on a stony flat. They were then'
headed north-east toward Alma, New Mexico, the
outlaws' paradise.
When I arrived on the scene the two officers
rode over the ground and showed me the robber's
trail. I spent a week or two investigating this robbery
and came to the conclusion that the hold-up man
was "Kid Curry." Out in the hills I found sorne
men who had seen him before the robbery— and
their descriptions tallied with that of "Kid Cur
ry." The day before the robbery two Mexicans, re
turning to their camp for dinner, saw this bandit
asleep on his saddle, with his horse grazing at the
end of a rope near by. They called to him, and he
jumped up holding a Winchester rifle ready for
action. They invited him to their camp for dinner
He replied that he wasn't hungry.
In my investigations I found out that just be
fore this robbery "Kid Curry's" old pal, Bob
McGinnis, who had been pardoned from the peni
tentiary, had sold his saloon in Alma and dropped
out of sight.
Another old pal, "Butch Cassaday," who had
formerly run a saloon in Alma for four years, un
der the name of Jim Lowe, was seen with McGin
nis not long before the hold-up.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 241
No doubt the bandit selected his route, knowing
that very few law officers would risk their necks
in following him over that cliff.
"Kid Curry" knew every foot of this whole
country, as he had been a cowboy along the line
of New Mexico and Arizona, under the name of
Tom Capehart.
Several years previous, Capehart had shot and
killed Geo. Scarborough, the man who did a noble
deed when he Mlled John Sillman, the murderer
of Wesley Harding in El Paso, Texas.
The killing of Scarborough took place just be
fore the writer joined "Kid Curry's" wild bunch,
who operated from the hole-in-the-wall, in Wyom
ing, and the Little Rockies in Montana, to Alma,
New Mexico, and the northern border ot old
Mexico. Walter Birchfield, a cattle man of Deming, New
Mexico, was with Scarborough when he was killed.
The boys used to tell in my presenec of how Birch-
fields life was spared, as they liked him on ac
count of his many acts of kindness toward Cape
hart, when he was a cowboy near Deming.
Only his warmest friends know what became of
"Kid Curry" after he escaped from the sheriff
at Knoxville, Tennessee.
TMs sheriff was paid $8000 to let "Kid Curry"
escape, after his conviction for life, and the chan
ces are that Jim T  , who owned a horse ranch
in partsership with "Kid Curry," near Landusk}',

242

A LONE STAR COWBOY

Montana, furnished this money, as he was in
Knoxville at the time.
The Knoxville sheriff was arrested and thrown
in jail for accepting this bribe.

"KID CURRY"

The crime for which "Kid Curry" was con
victed was passing unsigned United States cur
rency, secured in a Great Northern train hold-up.
But the cause of his arrest was the shooting of
two police-officers, in Knoxville.
He was playing pool with a stranger when an
argument arose over the game. "Kid Curry"
knocked the stranger down with his cue. This
caused the proprietor of the hall to whistle for
the police. "Kid Curry" then ran out of the door,

A LONE STAR COWBOY 243
just as two officers were entering. They demand
ed his arrest. He drew his pistol and shot both
down — though both finally recovered from the
wounds. One of these officers used his club on
"Kid Curry's" head before he fell.
Now the cowboy "bad man" ran for the
swamps. Bloodhounds were put on his trail. He
was found leaning against a tree, almost uncon
scious from the blow on the head. When told to
throw up his hands, by the officers who followed
the hounds, he paid no attention, although wide
awake. This was the story told to me in Knoxville, la
ter. There I made the acquaintance of one of the
two wounded policemen.
Jim T  , who owned about 500 head of fine
range horses in partnership with the ' ' Kid, ' ' told
me that he was the cause of ' ' Kid Curry ' ' becom
ing an outlaw, therefore he would remain his
friend until death.
He said that after the rough and tumble fight in
the saloon, in the town of Landusky, Mont., (the
fight starting OArer Pike Landusky calling "Kid
Curry" a nigger, on account of his very dark skin
and hair." "The Kid" walked up to where he
(Jim T — ,) was sitting on the saloon bar, wiping
the blood from his face. Then Jim T — says he re
marked : " If I were you I would kill the old devil. ' '

244 A LONE STAR COWBOY
He said he had no idea that the "Kid" would
take his words seriously.
Now "Kid Curry" pulled out his pistol and
shot Pike Landusky dead — thus starting on the
down-grade as one of the most daring robbers and
murderers of the age.
He killed many men, one of them being a Mr.
Winters, Avho, in self defense, shot and Mlled his
brother, Johnny Logan. His other brother, Loney
Logan, was shot and killed by law officers in try
ing to effect Ms capture, while he was in Mding
at Ms aunt's (Mrs. Lee) house near Dodson, Mis
souri. With a pistol in his hand he ran out of the
house and was shot through the head by Ben
Kimble. In 1912 I ate Christmas dinner in Santa Fe,
NeAV Mexico, then put my two pet saddle horses,
Rowdy and Pat in a box car and started them
south, ahead of me. In the same car was my large
Russian Avolf -hound dog. Eat 'Em up Jake, who
could whip his weight in wild cats and not half
try. My saddle, pack outfit, and bedding were in
the same car.
On the morning after Christmas I boarded a
passenger train and overtook the horse car in
Belen — where the stock were watered and fed,
then sent on to Amarillo, Texas.
I was starting out for the Gulf coast of Texas to
visit my boyhood stamping ground, and in the
spring to ride up the old Chisholm cattle trail to

A LONE STAR COWBOY 245
it's northern end, Abilene, Kansas, a distance of
about 1200 miles. I A¥as anxious to see how much.
of this old trail had escaped being torn to pieces
with plows and hoes.
In the little city of Amarillo, built near the Am
arillo lake, where I had in 1877, seen a million buf
falo in one black mass, I laid over a day and night
to ATisit former cowboy friends. One of these
friends owned a butcher shop, in which hung a
dressed buffalo bull, Avhich he had purchased from
Charlie Goodnight, to be sold on NeAV Years Eve,
at one dollar a pound.
From this buffalo bull a hump loin Avas cut ant!
presented to me as a treat.
On leaving Amarillo the passenger conductor
and his brakeman put the hump loin on ice, then
telegraphed ahead to the manager of the Harvey
House in Sweetwater, which was the end of the
division, on the A. T. & S. F. Ry. to prepare us a
fine1 midnight supper, all but the meat, which we
would furnish.
The brakeman of this train, Mr. F. A. Dumek.
had been a buffalo hunter during the early '70s in
Nebraska and Dakota. I asked him how many buf
falos he had seen at one time. He felt sure he had
seen 10,000,000 head in on^e body as far as the
eyes could reach.
. Even though he stretched the truth by 9,000,-
000 head, that would leave a good sized herd,
equal to the band seen by me at Amarillo lake.

246 A LONE STAR COWBOY
We arrived in Sweetwater City at midnight.
The manager of the Harvey House was waiting
for us, to fill up on buffalo hump. The supper was
fine, this being my last taste of buffalo meat.
On New Years day my ponies were unloaded in
Bay City, the up-to-date county seat of Matagorda
County. Here at this very spot I had helped round
up wild four year old ma\Tericks in 1867. Little did
I dream then that a young city would spring up
on Bay Prairie, surrounded by prosperous farm
ers. From Bay City, mounted on my sorrel stallion.
Rowdy, with Pat carrying the pack on his back, I
started for the little city of Palacios, built on
Hamiltons Point, the place where I spent that
dreadful night in the great storm of 1875.
In Palacios I met old friends by the hundreds.
Here lived my boyhood chum Billy Williams, and
Ms wife, who, as Miss Martha Franz, was once the
belle of Matagorda County. And here also lived
my former cowboy chum, Nolan Keller, and the
once little boy, Johnny Pierce, whom I escorted
to and from school at the old Rancho Grande head
quarters, while I was on crutches. Now I find Mm
a wealthy banker, with Nolan Keller's pretty
black-eyed daughter as his wife.
My old millionaire employer, John E. Pierce,
heard that I was in the country and came down
from Blessing — a town built with his money — to
take me home with him. Of course I went, and

A LONE STAR COWBOY 247
put in a whole week of high living at his fine neAv
hotel in Blessing.
WMle his guest, Mr. Pierce drove me in his
buggy, drawn by a spirited team of bays, to see
the old Rancho Grande headquarters. On the way
there, while driving through the timber, Eat 'Em
Up Jake showed his skill as a fighter.
We were nearing a large white frame house by
the side of the road. Mr. Pierce stopped the team
and told me to put Eat 'Em Up Jake in the bug
gy, as, at this house there was a vicious brute
which had killed many dogs.
I laughed at the idea of him killing my dog, so
I told Mr. Pierce to drive on, and just watch Jake
take care of himself.
When opposite the house there came a large
black dog on the run, with a little yellow fice at
his heels. Jake was trotting along ahead of us. The
big brute sprang onto his back and mashed Mm to
the ground. WMle the fight was raging, the fice
kept nipping Jake on the hind legs. He quit the
black dog long enough to toss the little fice up in
to the air the height of our buggy top. When he
hit the ground he flew for home yelping. The big-
dog soon followed suit, with tail between his legs.
Nearly every jump he made Jake would grab him
by the hind quarters and give him a complete
somersault. They were soon out of sight, in the
rear of the dwelling. What happened there we
never knew. But Eat 'Em Up Jake came back to

248 A LONE STAR COWBOY
the buggy covered with blood, but not his own
blood, as he came out of the fight without a
scratch. Mr. Pierce was so tickled and joyful over this
dog-killing brute finally meeting his match, that
he acted like a school boy. He had to tell all his
friends in Blessing about the great fight.
We finally reached the old Rancho Grande
headquarters, which had changed since my last
visit to the place.
We then drove to the old church house and
grave-yard to see "Shanghai" Pierce's $10,000
statue, made of bronze, and erected before his
death. It stood forty feet Mgh, and was as nat
ural as life. In imagination I could hear " Shang
hai 's" voice, which could be heard nearly half a
mile, even when he tried to wMsper.
After my week's visit with Mr. Pierce I went
to the town of Midfield to eat free grub for sev
eral days with cattleman Fred Cornelius, and Ms
pleasant family. While there I rode with him
over his range to see the long-horn cattle wearing
the brand T.5. connected, wMch I sold to him forty
years previous.
Of course I had to visit my old boyhood part
ner, Horace Yeamans, Avho lived in College-Post
— a town bmlt across the bay from Palacios.
Mounted on my saddle horses he and I rode thru
the streets of these would-be cities and marveled
at the great changes which had taken place in for-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 249
ty years, since we used to brand mavericks and
skin cattle on this once wild prairie land.
Now my horses were left in care of that old-
time prince of cowboys, Nolan Keller, who is now
Aveathly, and Eat 'Em Up Jake and I then boarded
a train for the west, to visit Port Lavaca, Corpus
Christi and other towns along the coast.
One of the objects of this trip was to dig up the
hidden secret of how the old Chisholm cattle trail
derived its name.
Most cattlemen and cowboys think it was nam
ed after the Pecos River Cattle King, John Chis
um. But I felt sure it was not, as the names are
spelt different, and John Chisum never drove cat
tle up that trail to Kansas.
In Port Lavaca I found a banker, W. C. Noble,
who drove "up the Chisholm trail" eight times,
and still he couldn't tell how the trail got it's
name. But he felt sure that if I would go and see
Col. Chisholm, who had a ranch on the Nueces
River, the secret would be solved.
A train took me to a small station, where a
team and buggy were hired for the trip.
I found Col. Chisholm to be a giant in size, with
snow white hair. He almost burst his sides laugh
ing at the idea of the trail being named after Mm.
He said he had never driven anything in Ms life
but a yoke of oxen.
On the trip I talked with hundreds of old trail

250 A LONE STAR COWBOY
drivers, but none could tell me the secret, so I re
turned to Palacios.
Shortly after my return, Billy Williams, my
boyhood chum, and I started across country,
mounted on my saddle horses, for the town of Ma
tagorda, twenty-five miles distant.
We rode in sight of a round mott or bunch of
timber, which brought back memories of my fool
cowboy days on this, then, wild prairie.
This mott of timber stood on a 2200 acre tract
of land which the owner, in 1873, offered to sell
for ten cents an acre. I had nearly cash enough to
buy it, and Mr. Jonathan Pierce offered to loan
me the balance, without interest. He argued that
it would make me rich if I would buy and hang
onto it, until the country settled up.
The skin was scratched off my scalp trying to
make up my mind whether to buy it or not, I fin
ally decided that it never would be worth over one
dollar an acre, so turned the deal down, and Mr.
Pierce bought the tract at ten cents an acre.
While visiting Mr. Pierce in Blessing, he told
me of how he had sold some of this land, recently,
at $150 an acre. The lowest price received being
$60 an acre after being cut into small tracts.
This shows how some men are born to look into
the future, while others can't see further than the
end of their noses. I belong in the latter class, and
now felt like hiring a cheap man to Mck me good
and hard.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 251
In Matagorda "Billy" and I made our home
Avith Mr. Baltis Ryman and his family, the chief
head cook of this swell home being Mrs. Ryman,
"Billys" sister.
A week was spent shaking hands, and "hark
ing back," with old friends and their offsprings,
in this, the first town I had ever seen. Half the
population were related to the Williams family.
WMle here the old cemetery was visited, so as
to tread on soil where my father was buried,
Avhen I was only one year old.
A trip out to Big Hill to visit my old boyhood
friend, Christian Zipprian and Ms family, ended
our visit to this part of the county.
My intention was to start up the old Chisholm
cattle trail on March first, but as the time drew
near, the horse-flies and mosquitos became so bad,
causing my two pet horses so much misery, that
I gave up the trip. These horses had been raised
by me in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where there are
no such insects to torment the life out of a horse.
The trip up the old trail would have been during
the worst fly and mosquito time. Hence I conclud
ed to avoid this by sometime, in the future, start
ing down the trail form Abilene, Kansas, early in
the fall, reaching the Gulf coast during the winter
season. About the first of March, in Bay City, my
horses and outfit were put into a box-car, on the

252

A LONE STAR COWBOY

¦ m

K
OI I-
3 <111 II-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 253
A. T. & S. F. Ry. and started back to their home in
NeAv Mexico's capital city.
Of course Eat 'Em Up Jake had a nice bed in
the same car with the horses. He was leaving this
coast country with the satisfaction of knowing
that he had taught the dog population to respect
his high breeding. In every town visited he had
to fight his Avay to respect. Often half a dozen
dogs Avould jump onto him at the same time. No
matter how many, it ended the same with JaKe as
victor. .He never would pick a fight himself, but
was always there when it ended.
The dogs were like the people, they had never
seen a Russian wolf-hound before, I could have
sold hundreds of Jake's pups had they been in ex
istence. The six, which were on my ranch at Santa
Fe, were snapped up quick when we first landed
in Bay City. I wrote the man in charge of my
place, Mr. Geo. S. Tweedy, to ship them down by
express, which he did.
Poor Eat 'Em Up Jake, about a year after re
turning home, dropped over dead while Mrs. H.
M. Martin was patting him on the head. He re
ceived a decent burial by Geo. S. Tweedy.
More than fifty of Ms pups had been sold, and
given to friends.
Eat 'Em Up .Take, Jr., one of Jake's pups can be
seen any day, at the present writing, on the streets
of Santa Fe, following his kind master, Mr.
"Jack" F. Collins. He doesn't think any of the

254 A LONE STAR COWBOY
fine Navajo blankets in his curio store is any too
good for this high bred dog, (for whom he has re
fused a cash $500 offer) to stretch himself out on
while napping.
It seems that these Russian wolf hounds enjoy
sleeping on A^aluable rugs. While on our trip in
southern Texas, Eat 'Em Up Jake had several
fine parlor doors thrown wide open, so that he
could stretch out on valuable rugs, the Mnd wom
en folks thinking he made a fine picture while
thus taking a restful dog nap.
At one of these swell homes in Palacios, Texas,
owned by Mr. and Mrs. John T. Price, Jake was in
the habit of slipping away from me, so as to
stretch himself on a fine brussels carpet. Even if
his feet were muddy, good Mrs. Price woMd throw
the door open when he stood on his hind feet and
rapped for admittance.
Eat 'Em Up Jake came by his name honestly.
While on the Laramie plains in Wyoming, as a
supposed outlaw, I traded a watch for this half
starved, lanky Russian wolf hound. I also traded
my gentle saddle pony for a wild broncho.
On leaving the Jim Kirkbright ranch I had a
forty mile ride to make over a wild stretch of
country. The day was very warm, and when about ten
miles on our journey the pup gave out complete
ly. There was nothing to do but shoot him or put

A LONE STAR COWBOY 255
Mm on my broncho. The latter course was adopt
ed. Riding up by the side of the panting pup I
leaned over and grabbed him by the neck. When
I started to rise up with the wooly bundle of bones
the bucking contest began. The pup was thrown
in front of me. Every time the broncho struck the
ground my whole weight was thrown onto the
pup's empty bread basket. For about five min
utes the air was full of yelping.
About noon we reached a lake and I stopped to
eat lunch. I shot a mud-hen in the lake and was
skinning it for the pup. He smelted the blood and
made a grab for the bird. He ate everything,
feathers, bill and legs, and right there got his
name of Eat 'Em Up Jake.
I had to come back to New Mexico to learn the
true story of how the old Chisholm cattle trail de
rived its name.
This information was secured from Mr. David
M. Sutherland, a Mghly respected citizen of Ala-
mogordo, a nice little city which sprang into exis
tence near old Victoria's rendezvous, Dog Canyon.
I had known Mr. Sutherland by reputation for
over thirty years, hence I could rely on this infor
mation being trutMul. He didn't have to depend
altogether on memory, as he had kept a diary of
the cattle drive in 1871.
Here follows the true story of the Chisholm
Trail as told to me by Mr. Sutherland, and con-

256

A LONE STAR COWBOY

firmed through corresponding with old-timers in
Wichita, Kansas:
In about the year 1867 the United States Gov
ernment concluded to move the more than 3,000
Wichita and affiliated tribes of Indians, known
as the Caddos, Wacos, Andarkos, "etc., to a new
reservation in the southern part of the Indian Ter
ritory. Their camp was located on the Arkansas River
near where Chisholm and Cow-SMn creeks empty
into that stream. They had been moved there by
the government during the Rebellion. Major Hen
ry Shanklin was in charge of them.
Previous to the time of moving these Indians
to their new reservation Major Shanklin made a
deal with a rich half-breed "Squaw-man" by the

JESSE CHISHOLM,
Father of the Chisholm Trail.

name of Jesse Chisholm, to open a trail, and es
tablish supply depots through the Indian Terri-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 257
tory to Red River, the dividing line of Texas and
the "Nation."
With a large train of ox-teams Jesse Chisholm
went to Ft. Leavenworth on the Missouri River, to
load up Avith Government supplies.
On his reutrn to the camp, on the Arkansas
River, 100 wild ponies were bought for the trip
through the Indian Territory.
These Avere used to settle the quick-sand in the
treacherous streams of Salt Fork the Cimarron,
the North Canadian and the South Canadian.
Ahead of the heavily loaded wagons this band
of ponies were driven back and forth, many times,
to settle the quick-sand.
Dug-outs were built at certain points, and a sup
ply of grub, etc., left, for the Indians and Sol
diers, to follow later.
The more than 3000 Indians with their thous
ands of ponies, along with the many mounted Sol
diers, traveling in the ruts made by Jesse Chis
holm 's heavily loaded wagons made a plain road
way. It was christened the Chisholm trail, and
over its surface passed millions of long-horn cat
tle in the years following.
After the Indians had vacated their camp the
Government sold the land, and the present city of
Wichita, Kansas, was established on the old camp
ground. When the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Rail
road reached the town of Wichita, and built ship-

258 A LONE STAR COAVBOY
ping pens, a few years later, the enterprising citi
zens began planning to turn the trail herds away
from Baxter Springs, in the south-east corner of
Kansas, into Wichita.
In the closing years of the '60 's, the Union Pa
cific Railroad had reached Abilene, Kansas, fur
ther north, and that town backed by the Union Pa
cific railroad company, laid plans to get some of
the Texas cattle trade.
In the spring of 1870 Mr. David M. Sutherland,
who was associated with Major Henry Shanklin,
went to Bosque County, Texas, and purchased a
herd of long-horn cattle, which were driven over
the new Chisholm trail to Wichita, thence to Abi
lene. The following spring, 1871, Major ShanMin and
Mr. Sutherland were employed by the Union Pa
cific Railway Company to turn the cattle drive
away from Baxter Springs, onto the Chishohn
trail, through the Indian Territory.
Mr. Sutherland went to Gainesville, Texas, to
meet the Baxter Springs trail herds and induce
the owners and bosses to turn west to Red River
station, where they would strike the Chisholm
trail and have good grass and water all the way
through the Indian Territory.
During the season Mr. Sutherland, and the
boosters sent by the town of Wichita, succeeded
in turning most of the herds to the Chisholm
trail.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 259
Mr. Sutherland says that in April, 1871 he made
a cut-off trail with plows, from Pilot Point to
Boliver, in the state of Texas, for the herds to fol
low. That from Boliver to Red River Station there
was already a plain wagon road.
It is said that the Wichita boosters paid as high
as $500 to owners and bosses to induce them to
change their course from Baxter Springs to the
Chisholm trail at Red River Station.
During the next season, 1872, the whole trail
drive continued north from Austin, Texas, to Red
River Station, and the entire route to Abiline,
Kansas, became known as the Chisholm trail.
At the Montopolis crossing on the Colorado
River, two and a half miles below the Capital City
of Austin, Texas, the many small trails from all
over the Gulf Coast merged into the Chisholm
trail, which was now a solid road-way, several
hundred yards wide, all the way to Wichita and
Abilene, Kansas.
Every season for ten long years this old trail
was used. At least 5,000,000 head of cattle,
and a half million Spanish mares, with which to
stock new horse ranches on the northern ranges,
were driven over it during those years.
Some individual owners drove many herds each
season. I can only recall the names of a few of the most
prominent trail drovers. A Mr. Fant, of Golliad,
Texas, King and Kennedy, of Corpus Christi, Un-

260 A LONE STAR COWBOY
cle Henry Stevens and the firm of Millett and Ma-
berry, I believe drove the greatest number of
herds each season.
As large trail drivers, Hood and Hughes, W. B.
Grimes, "Shanghai" Pierce, Capt. George Lit
tlefield, Charlie and Tom Word, the Lovings,
Driscols, Slaughters, Collins' and Pryors were
prominent names on the trail. At the present writ
ing Col. Ike Pryor is president of the Texas Cat
tlemen's Association, with headquarters in San
Antonio, Texas.
The Days, Dan Waggoner and Hunter and Ev
ans were well known on the Chisholm trail.
No doubt King and Kennedy would take the
premium as the largest trail drivers.
This Mr. King, Avho, with his partner, Mr. Ken
nedy, owned the largest cattle ranch in Texas, was
the cause of the word "Cattle-King," as applied
to large cattle owners, being incorporated into our
language. It started thus :
In the early days when speaking of a Mr. King
the question would be asked : "Which King do you
mean ? ' ' The answer would be : " The Cattle
King" — meaning Mr. King of the firm of King
and Kennedy. He was "The Cattle King" in name
as well as a Cattle King in the ownership of the
largest cattle ranch in Texas.
Dan Waggoner was one of the great "Cattle
Kings" of Texas. He got his start in the early
'70s by buying new Mitchell wagons on the Mis-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 261
souri river, and with oxen and mules, hauling
them, trailed together, down the Chisholm trail
into Texas. These wagons being traded for wild
long-horn steers, which were then cheap and a
drug on the market, while the wagons were
scarce and commanded a high price.
"Uncle" Steve Birchfield, noAv a Avealthy resi
dent of El Paso, Texas, with ranches along the
Mexico border, was also a prominent trail driver.
I first met him in Wichita, Kansas, in 1876, and in
the fall of 1915, about thirty-seA7en years later, 1
spent more than a week with him at the Park
Hotel in Las Cruces, New Mexico. Of course we
"harked back" to the good old days of long-
horn cattle.
One of the stories he related will show the na
ture of some of those Avho drove "up the Chisholm
trail" to Kansas.
In 1873 "Uncle" Steve Birchfield made up a
herd of steers in Uvalde County, Texas.
At the same time a man known as ' ' Black Bob ' '
had a herd ready to start "up the trail." Owing
to the danger of Indians, in passing through the
Indian "Nation," Birchfield and "Black Bob"
agreed to keep their herds close together.
On their arrival at Red River, "Black Bob"
had a bad stampede during a stormy night and
lost a few steers, by them mixing up with local
range cattle.

262 A LONE STAR COWBOY
The next day both herds were put across Red
River into the "Nation."
Now "Black Bob" sent most of Ms crew back
into Texas to gather up the lost steers. He told
his men to gather all steers with muddy feet,
showing that they had been running in mud dur
ing the stampede.
When the crew returned they had about 700
head of muddy footed steers, owned by various
northern Texas cattlemen. These were put into
"Black Bob's" herd and the journey continued.
In order to avoid the state inspector at Red
River station, the boys had crossed the river in
the night, below the trail crossing.
Now "Black Bob" had a large size herd. He
had no mess-wagon, the grub and bedding being
carried on pack ponies.
On reaching Pond Creek, near the Kansas bor
der, "Black Bob" came very near starting a Avar
with a large band of Osage Indians, Avho were
headed west on a big buffalo hunt.
Arriving near the town of Wichita, their camps
were pitched close together. Then part of each
crew went to Wichita to celebrate.
"Uncle" Steve Birchfield says he secured a
room in the new Occidental Hotel, which was not
yet completed. His room frpnted on the main
street, and it had no window sashes in the place
left open for a window.
Being tired he went to bed early. About day-

A LONE STAR COWBOY 263
light he heard pistol shots and yelling on the
street. He went to the open window and looked
out. There he saw some of "Black Bob's" drunk
en cowboys charging up and down the street on
their ponies.
There were two gun stores in town, each having
a large wooden gun for a sign. Two of "Black
Bob's" cowboys tore loose these wooden guns and
were carrying them across the front of their sad
dles. Soon a crowd of "fool hoe-men" who had come
to town the evening previous to buy supplies, and
who were up early, so as to get an early start for
home, collected in front of the Occidental Hotel.
The boys with the wooden guns charged up to the
crowd and asked if they had heard of the Osage
Indians turmng out on the war-path. They told
of being in a battle with the Indians the day be
fore at Pond Creek, in the ' ' Nation, ' ' and of how
they had ridden all night to reach Wichita.
They said the Indians had killed many white
men, and were now headed for Medicine Lodge,
one hundred miles west of Wichita.
"Uncle" Steve says many of these "fool hoe-
men" didn't wait long enough to hear the whole
news of the great Indian outbreak. They ran in
every direction to get their teams to hurry home
and protect their families.
The news spread like wild-fire, and soon reach
ed the Governor of the state, in Topeka. He at

264 A LONE STAR COWBOY
once called out the state militia, and hurried them
to Medicine Lodge.
There being no funds to pay these militia men,
he sent an agent to Medicine Lodge to organize a
new county, so as to vote bonds to pay the militia.
The new county of Barbour was organized, Avitu
Medicine Lodge as the county seat.
There not being sufficient voters in the new
county, the soldier boys were allowed to cast a
vote, so as to issue $60,000 worth of county bonds,
to pay the soldiers.
An agent was sent East to sell these bonds, and
he skipped out with the cash received for them.
The militia finally had a skirmish and rounded
up the band of friendly Osage Indians, whose
anger had been stirred up by "Black Bob" at
Pond Creek. Thus did Barbour County, Kansas,
get a place on the state map.
These "fool hoe-men" as we "locoed" cowboys
called the new settlers, had a good reason for
their excitement, as, a few years preAdous,
the Osage Indians had turned out on the warpath
and murdered many white men in the southern
part of Kansas, their reservation being over the
line in the "Nation".

j-i

A LONE STAR COWBOY 26b
CHAPTER XI.
A BLOOD SPATTERED ROAD IN NEW
MEXICO.
I SERVE TWO YEARS AS NEW MEXICO
RANGER.
In' the fall of 1915 I spent several weeks at
Tularosa on that blood spattered road between
Lincoln and Las Cruces. While here I saw the
fresh blood still in the road where the last man
was killed, a short time previous.
This life-blood had floAvn from the veins of
Ralph Conned, a lawyer and stockman of Tula
rosa. He was driving a bunch of cattle up to the
Mescalaro Indian Reservation, where he had a
contract to furnish beef to the Indians.
With him were his twelve year old daughter,
and two Mexican cowboys. When about two miles
out of Tularosa, in front of Jim Porter's nice
residence, a bullet from a high-power rifle pierced
Ms heart, and he fell from his horse. He and cow
boy Jim Porter were bitter enemies, and the sup
position is that Porter sent the bullet on its deadly
mission. In Tularosa lived my cowboy friend, John P.
Meadows, one of the most law abiding men of the
age. WheneA'er a murder was committed he was

'266 A LONE STAR COWBOY
in the saddle, on the side of Justice. He had been
one of sheriff Pat Garrett's most trusted deputies
and friends, until that fearless peace-officer met
death, on this same blood-spattered road. He was
on his way to Las Cruces when shot and Mlled.
My friend Capt. Fred Fornoff, then at the head
of the New Mexico Mounted Police, who investi
gated the matter, feels confident that desperado
Jim Miller fired the bullet that killed Pat .Gar
rett, although another man got the credit for it,
as, according to Capt. Fornoff 's statement, it was
a put up job.
But this "bad" man Miller, who had been a
killer of men in Texas for years, met his just dues
by being swung up to a tree shortly afterwards.
He had just gone back to his old stamping
ground in Oklahoma and was hanged by a mob.
A friend of mine, who lived in the neighborhood,
told me the facts in the case.
The mob were after Miller and Ms chum, who
camped in an old barn that night. A stranger had
come along and camped with them, not knowing
avIio they were.
When the mob stormed the barn the stranger
was hanged with the other two, as he had been
caught in bad company. But, when too late, it was
found out that he had accidentally struck up with
these two "bad" men.
John P. Meadows was born and raised within
fifteen miles of Pat Garrett, in Lee County, Ala-

A LONE STAR COWBOY

267

bama, the date of his birth being May 26th, 1854,
and his birth-place being the town of Mechanics-
ville. He drifted to Eastland County, Texas, in
1873.

JOHN P. MEADOWS.

268 A LONE STAR COWBOY
In the fall of 1874 he hired out to George Knox
to kill buffalo for their hides. Here he met Pat
Garrett, who had just killed his first man, a Mr.
Glen. The following year John Meadows worked for
Johnny Larn and John Sillman — "two of the
meanest men who ever lived," as MeadoAvs ex
pressed it.
This is the same Johnny Larn who was shot to
death in jail by a mob, and the same John Sillman
who, I am sure, killed the two Mexican boys and
stole their band of sheep, in 1878.
Up to 1877, John Meadows Avas a buffalo hunter,
He then became a cowboy for the Millett brothers,
who owned a large cattle ranch, and drove many
herds "up the Chisholm trail."
In 1879 Meadows and my old cowboy friend,
Tom Harris, drifted to Ft. Sumner, New Mexico,
where they met ' ' Billy the Kid, ' ' who befriended
them, which touched a soft spot in John Mead
ow's heart. Since then Meadows has been an hon
ored citizen of New Mexico.
The above mentioned Tom Harris was the lead
er in the first and only cowboy strike which ever
took place. This unique strike for higher wages
was pulled off in the Panhandle of Texas, about
the year 1886. The Panhandle cattlemen hired Pat
Garrett and a crowd of fighting rangers to 'put
down the trouble. Some blood was spilled and

A LONE STAR COWBOY 269
many enemies made while the strike lasted. Tas
cosa was the striker's headquarters.
Ever since the spring of 1882, when I bade Mr.
and Mrs. George Nesbeth goodby in Las Cruces,
and they expressed a fear that Pat Cohglin would
have them murdered, I have had a desire to see
their graves, and to learn the truth of their mur
der. Therefore, during my stay in Tularosa, this
desire was gratified.
John P. Meadows had helped to run down the
murderers, and to lay the bodies of Mr. and Mrs.
Nesbeth, their adopted daughter, and the stranger
traveling with them, in their graves. He gave me
the full details of the case, the substance of which
follows :
With a covered wagon, drawn by two horses,
they left Las Cruces for their new home at Blaz-
iers Mill. They were all murdered at the point of
the White Sands, about half way between Las
Cruces and Tularosa, on August 17th, 1882. They
were Mlled by two Mexicans at night, while in
camp. A prospector hunting lost burros found their
swollen bodies quite a while afterwards.
The horses and everything of value, except the
wagon and harness, had been taken away by the
murderers, and this led to their identification, la
ter. When run down the murderers proved to be
Rupert Lara and Maximo Appodaco. In their con-

270 A LONE STAR COWBOY
fession at the trial they swore that Pat Cohglin
had hired them, for $1000, to Mil Mr. and Mrs.
Nesbeth. That they had to kill the little girl and
the stranger to prevent them giving the alarm.
Both were convicted for the crime. Shortly af
terwards Appodaco committed suicide, and Lara
was hanged by the neck until dead.
Pat Cohglin was never brought to trial. His
money, no doubt, saved his neck, as he was an ex
pert at using his wealth where it would do the
most good for himself, and for the wife he swap
ped for. When he left Texas he swapped wives
with his brother-in-law, they being married to sis
ters. This information I received from Captain F. B.
Taylor, of the United States Army. His letter
was written in Ft. Leavenworth Kans., and dated
Feb. 4th, 1886. Here is a quotation from tMs per
sonal letter to me:
"That little stone Jacal where the '"Kid" was
captured gave me shelter once from a blinding
sand storm. In those days it was occupied by Mex
icans. "Pat Cohglin was well known to all my regi
ment before he moved from Texas to Tularosa.
He made a queer trade, or swap, when he and Ms
brother-in-law, Taylor, swapped wives at the time
they broke partnership. A brief history of how he
acquired possession of that store, on the plaza in
Tularosa, would make interesting reading. I was

A LONE STAR COWBOY 271
stationed at Ft. Stanton, New Mexico, for several
years." My old friend "Buck" Prude, who owned the
trading store at the Mescalero Indian Reserva
tion, took John Meadows and me in an automobile
to the Indian Reservation.
On the way there we stopped at a Mexican's
house to see the bullet marks in the door, as a re
minder of one battle which took place on this
blood-spattered road.
In this battle two of John Goodes cowboys,
Johnson and "Dutch," murdered Howe, the own
er of this ranch, this being in the spring of 1887.
With the help of Indian trailers John P. Mead
ows ran down these two murderers, and assisted
in their conviction.
At Blaziers Mill, within two miles of the Indian
Agency, we visited the grave-yard on a round
mound, where rest the bodies of poor Mr. and
Mrs. George Nesbeth, as also those of the little
girl and the stranger who were murdered with
them. As Meadows helped to bury them he could point
out each grave. He also pointed out the graves of
the men killed in the battle here between "Billy
the Kid's" gang, and the Seven River warriors.
In this bloody battle my friend George Coe, now a
respected ranchman of Glencoe, New Mexico, lost
one of his fingers. His brother, Frank Coe, a well-

272 A LONE STAR COWBOY
to-do ranchman on the Riodoso river, was also in
this battle, helping "Billy the Kid."
After the Lincoln County war the Coe broth
ers, being law abiding men, qMt the "Kid's"
gang. I spent two days in the Mescalaro Indian Agen
cy as the guest of the Indian Agent, Mr. Jefferies,
and his lovely wife.
Strange to relate, here I found Mr. Miller, in
charge of the Indian Police, holding down the
same job that he held when I first met him in the
spring of 1881, at which time Maj. W. H. Llewel
lyn, of rough rider fame, was the Agent. TMrty-
three years is a long time to hang onto one job.
On returning to Santa Fe from this trip I made
preparations to start for Abilene, Kansas, mount
ed on Rowdy, with Pat as a pack-horse, to ride
down the Old Chisholm cattle trail to the Gulf
Coast of Texas, to mark the prominent places for
the benefit of posterity, and to satisfy a foolish
desire. As markers I aimed to use a large pair of al
uminum steer horns, with the name "Chisholm
Trail." on each horn. They were to be fastened
onto two inch galvanized pipe, set into a cement
foundation. I had made a deal with an Erie, Pa. firm to fur
nish these horns at $2.80 a pair, I figured that
each marker, complete, would cost $20.
In some way the WicMta, Kansas, Daily Beacon

A LONE STAR COWBOY 273
heard of my plans and intentions, and came out
with a column and a half write-up. Other papers
copied the article.
Shortly after, I received a letter from my old-
time friend, Chas. H. Moore, Vice President of the
National City Bank, in Kansas City, Mo., with in
structions to draw on him for the cost of one
marker, to be placed on the old trail where it
crossed Bluff Creek, on the line of Kansas and
Oklahoma, about two miles south of Caldwell.
This is as far as the Chisholm trail came to
being marked, as the late war with Germany caus
ed aluminum metal to soar skyward in price, so
that the Erie, Pa. firm cancelled their agreement
with me. Hence my trip was given up — and the
old trail may never be marked.
Early in the spring of 1916 my friend, Governor
Wm. C. McDonald, persuaded me to accept a po
sition as Ranger, with a commission as Mounted
Police, for the Cattle Sanitary Board of New
Mexico. Therefore, on the first day of March I started
south, mounted on Rowdy, with the pack on Pat,
and Jumbo, an offspring of Eat 'Em Up Jake,
chasing jack rabbits on ahead.
Governor McDonald had selected Carrizozo, the
present county seat of Lincoln County, as my
headquarters. Bill Owens, a fighting son-of-a-gun, was select
ed as my partner, we to have jurisdiction over

274 A LONE STAR COWBOY
seven counties, north of the Old Mexico border, to
run down outlaws and stock thieves.
But poor Bill Owens only lasted a short time. In
a fight with two Mexican cattle thieves, at Abo
Pass, he was shot through the lungs and lay at the
point of death for a long time. This ended his use
fulness as a mounted Ranger.
After he had fallen, Bill Owens emptied his pis
tol into the thief who had shot him. Both of the
thieves were killed.
Near the edge of Carrizozo Governor McDonald
had his fine ranch home, at Carrizozo Springs,
and here we met often to discuss my work, much
of which was done on the large Block cattle range,
owned by McDonald and his associates, along the
northern foot-hills of the Capitan mountains.
On several occasions Governor McDonald's
ranch manager, Mr. Truman A. Spencer, who was
married to the GoATernor's only daughter, took me
on hurried trips in his fine large automobile. Mr.
Spencer is "shore" some driver, when it comes
to swiftness, and carefulness.
When in Carrizozo I made Dr. M. G. Paden's
drug-store and hospital my loafing place. The
doctor was one of the young "bucks" batcMng
with W. C. McDonald, Jim Brent, and Andy Rob-
enson, near my camp in White Oaks during the
winter of 1880-81. Later he went to Louisville,
Kentucky, and studied medicine, which made Mm
one of New Mexico 's leading physicians.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 275
In Carrizozo my old friend, Mr. George Ulrick,
President of the Exchange Bank, who lived in
White Oaks during the boom days there, took me
up to his fine new home and introduced me to his
good wife. He showed me one of the nicest fur
nished rooms in the house, and said this should
be mine so long as my headquarters were in Carri
zozo, free of rent.
Of course I had to decline the kind offer, as it
would be taking advantage of good nature. I had
already rented a nice room in the home of Charlie
Ross, who was connected with Dr. Paden's drug
store. This remained my home for over two years,
during my visits to the town. Mrs. Ross and their
young son, Charlie, made my life pleasant.
Some of my work was done around White Oaks,
and I was compelled to drag into Court, for cattle
stealing, men whom I knew when they were boys.
It was a matter of business with me, still they will
never live long enough to forgive me.
In WMte Oaks I was treated royally by old time
friends, among them being Judge John Y. Hewett
and Charlie D. Mayer, the leading merchant there.
Mayer had married Ina Wauchope, grand-daugh
ter of the old placer miner, John Wilson, who
helped put White Oaks on the map. I knew her
when she was a pretty young miss, thinking of
the happy day when she would become a woman.
She still hangs on to some of her good looks and
all of her winning ways.

276 A LONE STAR COWBOY
I found Arabella and the Palos Springs, Mexi
can settlements, at the east end of the Capitan
mountains, to be a nest of cattle thieves, although
many law abiding men lived there.
Governor McDonald had told me that these
Mexican thieves would try to run me out of the
country, as they had. done with other officers sent
in there to catch them stealing Block cattle.
My work in Arabella proved exciting, and show
ed the ignorance and viciousness of the Mexican
Justice of the Peace there, who protected the
cattle thieves.
I made the mistake of trying the first four
thieves arrested by me in the Justice of the
Peace Court. The "Judge" put the thieves on the
witness stand to hear their side of the story, but
wouldn't allow me to put my witness' on the stand.
The father of one of the thieves, who in the
early days was mixed up in one of the coldest
blooded murders ever pulled off, acted as lawyer
for the defence. He ruled the Court.
When it was 0ATer the Court freed the prisoners
and assessed the cost of the case, $25, against me,
giving orders to the armed constable to not allow
me to leave the court room until the costs were
paid. With my hand on my pistol I started for the
door. The constable with Ms hand on his pistol
started to stop me. I told him to stand back, which

A LONE STAR COWBOY 277
he did, thus preventing the floor from being
smeared with blood.
In front of the court room which was full of
Mexicans, "Red" Dale, one of the Block cowboys,
sat on his horse holding my mount by the bridle
reins. Keeping my eyes on the crowd, which had fol
lowed me out of the door, my mount was reached.
Then pulling the high power rifle from the scab
bard on the saddle, I rode away with it in my hand,
ready for action.
After galloping two miles west I allowed ' ' Red ' '
Dale to continue on the wagon road back to the
Block round-up camp, in charge of Mr. Lloyd
Taylor. I then cut across the mountains for the Arroyo
Seco ranch, owned by Governor McDonald, a dis
tance of nine miles.
Arriving there Mrs. Roberts got me a quick.
meal. Then I rounded up nine head of stolen hors
es, in a small pasture, and started with them for
the Block ranch, twenty miles west.
A couple of days previous I had captured the
band of horses from outlaw "Chon" Romero and
his son. This "Chon" Romero was a daring out
law. Soon after, he Avas shot dead on the street of
Arabella by one of Sheriff Walker Hyde's Mexi
can deputies.
Cowboy Johnny Roberts, assisted me in getting
the band of horses started on the road.

278 A LONE STAR COWBOY
I was barely out of sight when the Arabella
constable and a deputy, both armed with high pow
er rifles, and having a warrant for my arrest,
rode up to the Arroyo Seco ranch house. They
asked for me, and Mr. Roberts, who had just re:
turned, told them that I had left in an automobile
for Carrizozo. An auto had been there a short time
previous, and the fresh tracks showed in the road.
Now the disappointed officers, who had followed
my tracks, after the Justice of the Peace had is
sued a warrant for my arrest, returned home.
I reached the Block ranch just in time to get a
swift automobile night ride with Mr. Truman
Spencer. The next morning in Carrizozo I had a talk with
District Attorney H. B. Hamilton, and from him
found out that it would have been a case of mur
der had I killed the constables while they held a
' warrant for my arrest. I Avas under the impression
that these officers had no lawful right to arrest
me outside of their precinct — hence I had made-
up my mind to fight them to a finis,h had they
overtaken me. It was lucky for me that Mr. Rob
erts turned them back.
Now I swore out warrants before a Justice of
the Peace in Carrizozo for the four prisoners
whom the Arabella "Judge" had set free. Then
Deputy Sheriff John B. Baird — whose father was
a fearless Texas sheriff, whom I knew — and I

A LONE STAR COWBOY 279
drove to Arabella, a distance of seventy-five miles,
and arrested the four released prisoners.
At their trial in Carrizozo they were put under
a bond of $1000 each to appear at the next term
of the District Court in Carrizozo.
Much of my future work was done around Ara
bella, and the thieving gang became docile. I re
ceived much valuable assistance from cowboy Hen
ry Rogers, who had charge of the Block ranch at
Steel Springs. Also that prince of a good fellow,
PMl Blanchard, whom I knew when he was a boy
in White Oaks, and who now owns a large stock
ranch, gaA^e me much assistance, at the risk of
maMng bitter enemies in Arabella, near where his
ranch was situated.
Many old wells in the Arabella neighborhood
were full of Block cattle hides thrown in after
the animals were butchered. From one well seven
ty-five hides were taken out.
Near the town of Encinoso we had a laughable
experience with Mexican cattle tMeves. Cowboys
Johnny Littleton, a Mr. Stratton and I made a
raid on a settlement, searching several houses for
fresh beef. At the Baca home the folks willingly
showed me through the house, and pointed out
some goat meat cooking.
. When I stepped around the outside of the house
I saw Jumbo eying a large box. It proved to be full
of fresh beef.
At the Lucero home the table was set for dinner.

280 A LONE STAR COWBOY
The family swore they had no beef of any kind. I
opened the oven door and brought forth the head
of a yearling baked to a nice brown. It seemed a
shame to rob these people of their dinner, but I
needed the head as evidence.
In a cabin on the premises we found the whole
beef. It had been butchered inside the cabin and
the door kept locked. In the ashes in the fire
place I dug out the horns of the animal, and the
piece of hide contaimng the Block brand.
Before hauling this nice fat beef away to be dis
tributed among our friends I gave the Lncero fam
ily part of a hind quarter to pay for the head tak
en out of the oven, so that the two pretty young
daughters would not be deprived of their dinner.
The father and son, and young Baca were ar
rested and taken to Carrizozo, where they were
put under bond to appear before Judge Medler in
the District Court.
They employed my friend Col. Geo. W. Prichard
to defend them, which meant the wearing out of
their cases in the courts. •
After war broke out with Germany, Col. Prich
ard secured Baca's freedom; so that he could join
the army.
In order to gather up stray horses I attended a
spring horse round-up on the Mescalaro Indian
Reservation, putting in about two weeks there.
The round-up crews were all Indians, and the way
they abused horses made my heart bleed. They

A LONE STAR COWBOY 281
have no more mercy for a wild broncho than for
a rattle snake. And they don't know the first prin
ciple of handling wild horses.
Some of my work was done on the Riodoso
River, in the Glencoe neighborhood, and there I
enjoyed life. It seemed like going back to my early
cowboy life, where everyone seemed like a father,
mother, brother or sister.
I generally put up at Bert Bonnells fine home.
He was a son of Mr. Ed Bonnell who ran the lum
ber yard in White Oaks in the early days, and
whom I held in high esteem.
Bert had married one of Frank Coe's pretty
daughters, and she is "shore" a peach as a sing
er, musician, and knowing how to make visitors
feel at home.
Here I attended many dances which generally
wound up in a regular old fashioned Texas "ho-
down. ' '
Below the Bonnell ranch Mr. Frank Coe has his
fine home, and his whole family are musicians.
And one mile above lives Mr. George Coe and his
fine family. These Coe brothers were in many bat
tles with "Billy the Kid" during the bloody Lin
coln County war. George Coe takes pride in the
loss of one finger in the battle at Blaziers Mill.
It was near George Coe 's ranch where Mr. Tun
stall was killed by the Seven River warriors,
which started the Lincoln County war.
Being a Justice of the Peace, I brought some of

282 A LONE STAR COWBOY
my cattle stealing cases into Mr. Coe's Court. In
arresting Mexican thieves on the Riodoso, I was
assisted by Will Coe and Lon Hunter, two fear
less cowboys. My old friend, Mr. J. V. Tully, the
postmaster and merchant in Glencoe, who also
owns a large cattle ranch, assisted me in many
ways. The Mexicans are not all thieves by any means.
As a rule they are a law abiding people, and in
some ways have got the "Americans" beat a mile.
They are the most hospitable raee on earth. Money
don't count when it comes to caring for a tired
and hungry stranger. They will give up their bed
and sleep on the floor, themselves, to make it
pleasant for a ' ' Gringo, ' ' as the ' ' Americans ' ' are
called. No matter how poor a Mexican family is, you
will find the inside of their house neat and clean.
The worst fault of the woman-folks is their fond
ness for babies and fice dogs. The smaller the
baby or puppy the greater the affection.
While attending one term of court in Carrizozo
I was taught how old "Father Time" heals
wounds. I was introduced to Mr. Augustin Kay-
ser, who owns a small cattle ranch near Corona.
He remembered my name, and asked: "Say, in
1872, when you were a boy, did someone steal your
rain blanket, one stormy night ? ' '
Of course I remembered it, as, for several years

A LONE STAR COWBOY 283
it had left a bitter feeling in my heart, against the
thief. He then continued: "Well, Charlie, I am the
thief who kept dry that night under your blanket.
Of course I felt sorry for you, but it was a case of
self protection, as I had lost my slicker," (rain
coat.). We were putting up a herd of long-horn steers
for the trail, I, being on the last guard, had gone
to bed, leaving my saddled night horse tied to a
tree near by. On my saddle was a Mexican rain
blanket, used instead of a slicker. They are made
narrow and long, with a slit in the center to stick
your head into, the fringed ends coming down be
low the boot tops. On getting wet they become
hard, and turn water like rubber.
On tMs particular night a severe rain storm
sprang up and every sleeping cowboy had to
spring onto his night-horse.
A stampede followed, and during the balance of
the night I suffered greatly from the cold spring
rain. The next morning my blanket was found ly
ing on my bed, the rain having ceased.
In southern Texas these fancy colored blankets
were plentiful, but I never saw but one of them
in the Panhandle country. During a cold blizzard,
or rain storm there, if you happened to see a Mexi
can blanket coming towards you, or going in an
apposite direction, you could bet your last dollar
that Jim East's head, covered with a gold and sil-

284 A LONE STAR COWBOY
ver mounted sombrero, was sticking out of the
slit in the center.
During my two years work as Ranger and
Mounted Police I had the pleasure of visiting
some of my old stamping grounds, such as Ross-
well, Capitan, Nogal, Ft. Stanton and Lincoln.
Capitan can boast of the biggest high-school
building, and the biggest general mercantile es
tablishment, owned by two wide-awake cattlemen,
George and Will Titsworth, in Lincoln County.
Also the biggest little weekly newspaper, "The
Mountaineer, ' ' oAvned and conducted by a big man
with a big heart and a bigger name, Mr. Neil H.
Bigger. As Mr. Bigger has passed the spring
chicken age he couldn't get out such a spicy local
paper without the help of his broad-gauge son.
Mr. Sam. J. Bigger.
Capitan also has at her back door one of the
largest cattle ranches, the Block outfit, in the
whole state of New Mexico. Cowboy Frank Ellis,
and Jim Woodland are permanent fixtures on tMs
well conducted ranch, and they are both beginning
to turn grey over worrying about the welfare of
these thousands of fine white-face cattle.
As a boy Jim Woodland drifted from Texas
with Tom 0 'Phalliard, "Billy the Kid's" dearest
chum. Instead of turning outlaw he became a
deputy sheriff under sheriff Kimbrall, wMch po
sition he held when I first met him at White Oaks,
in 1880.

A LONE STAR COWBOY 285
In Lincoln the old two story Court-house, where
"Billy the Kid" pulled off his great and daring
stunt, still stands as .a monument to remind old-
timers of the days when Lincoln County covered
a territory nearly 200 miles square. Since then
she has been cut up into several counties. In Ros
well and along the Pecos river the greatest change
has taken place. In this lovely little city of Roswell
where, in 1881 Tom Emory grazed the LX steers
on the grassy flat in front of Capt. J. C. Lea's
store, while we were attending the round-ups on
John Chisum 's range, now stands costly business
blocks. And five miles south, where we attended ho-
down dances in the Texas settlement called Pump
kin Row, there are now fine homes and orchards.
In fact the whole Pecos valley clear down to the
Texas line is a garden spot, with little cities and
towns by the score, Artesia, Carlsbad, Dexter,
Dayton, Lake Arthur, Malaga, Hagerman, Lake-
wood and Hope being the leading embryo cities.
In 1881 tMs was all Government land, only fit
for grazing. A few years later Chas. B. Eddy,
now living on easy street in the city of New York,
woke up to the fact that it would make a farming
country. He and his brother John owned a large
cattle ranch at Salida, Colorado.
In the spring of 1882 the Eddy brothers moved
some of their cattle from Colorado and establish-

286 A LONE STAR COWBOY
ed a cattle ranch near where Carlsbad, the county
seat of Eddy County, is now located.
In the early winter of 1882, while riding down
the Pecos River, I passed the new adobe ranch
house of the Eddy brothers, only a few hundred
yards east of the road.
A man sitting on the Avest side of the building
waved at me. I rode over and Mr. C. B. Eddy in
troduced himself to me and wanted to know if
there was any news of importance up at Roswell.
He was alone, as his cowboys had gone out on
the range to look after the cattle. It being at the
noon hour he cooked a nice meal for me and him
self. Five years later, in 1887, while doing detective
work I boarded a stage coach in Carthage, on the
Rio Grande river, for a ninety mile ride to WMte
Oaks. The only passengers in the stage coach, besides
myself, were a lady and a fine looking, dark com
plected gentleman of middle age.
This gentleman kept eying me, but I pretended
not to notice it.
When about half way on our journey he spoke
to me, saying: "Say, partner, didn't you ride
down the Pecos River in 1882, mounted on a white
crop-eared horse?"
Of course I answered "yes," then he continued :
"My name is Charles B. Eddy, and I cooked din
ner for you at my ranch."

A LONE STAR COWBOY 287
Now we shook hands and ' ' harked back ' ' to the
cattle days.
In White Oaks Ave put up at the Ozane Hotel,
and here Mr. Eddy gave me a confideniai tip. lie
advised me to throw up any other business that.
I might be engaged in and hurry to the Pecos
Valley and secure some land. He said he was now
on the Avay to Roswell, and that within a year the
whole Pecos Valley Avould be on a boom, as he
had succeeded in getting millions of dollars with
Avhich to develop that country, in the way of new
railroads and irrigation dams. But I didn't have
sense enough to take his advice.
In 1888 the valley was on a big boom, and the
Government land was being gobbled up fast. In
many ways it was being stolen from the Govern
ment. A friend of mine spent the summer there
doing detective work for the Pinkertons. He told
me of a case where a certain individual, represent
ing a large irrigation Co., went to El Paso and
hired sixty old Mexico Mexicans at one dollar a
day each, with free grub, to take up Pecos Valley
land. Of course these Mexicans had to swear that they
Avere citizens of the United States, in order to
take up land. They entered one whole section of
land each, in the choicest spots, under the desert
land laws.
When the water from the large new reservoir
was turned onto the land, and a patent secured,

288 A LONE STAR COWBOY
these sixty Mexicans deeded the property to the
Company. Now the ' ' foxy" individual, for whom my friend
was doing the detective work, had these sixty citi
zens of Old Mexico change their names and go
further up the river, towards Roswell, and enter
sixty more sections under the desert law.
This land, with a water right, was worth $100
an acre, so you can imagine the value of these 120
sections, a total of 438,000 acres, secured through
fraud. It virtually put millions of dollars into the
company's hands when the land was sold to farm
ers. Still it did good by developing the country
quickly. On my way back to Santa Fe, after finishing the
work as Ranger for the Cattle Sanitary Board,
they being out of funds to pay the twelve Rangers
scattered throughout the state, I had the exper
ience of looking into the barrel of a big Colts pis
tol, while a drunken man's trembling finger was
resting on the trigger. I had to endure the agony
for about a minute, until the drunken Arkansaw-
yer made his little speech against officers of the
law. This stunt was pulled off in a livery stable, in
the town of Moriarity, by Hamp Wallace, who had
got the drop on me while my pistol was lying on
a bunk out of reach.
I felt sorry for poor, ignorant Hamp Wallace
next day, when with tears in his eyes and voice

A LONE STAR COWBOY 289
he plead guilty before a Justice of the Peace, in
Estancia. He was let off with a fine of $25 and
costs, and soon after departed for Arkansas where
he will feel at home while hoeing corn and cotton.
On reaching Santa Fe my cowboy outfit was
laid away, and another start made at leading the
' ' simple life ' ' on my Sunny Slope Ranch near the
edge of the city. At the present writing, June 9th
1919, I am still keeping it up and dreaming of the
good old days when there were no wire fences,
or scales to weigh fresh beef on.
When the time comes for putting me under the
sod, I hope the little verse by Charles
Badger Clarke, Jr., wMch follows, will be
carved on my headstone. TMs verse was dug up
from the William E. Hawks collection of cowboy
songs as appropriate for the wind-up of a fool
cowboy's life history.
Mr. William E. Hawks, of Bennington, Ver
mont, a cowboy of the old school, has been fifteen
years gathering cowboy songs and data, with a
view of publishing a true history of the early day
cattle business, so that posterity will know the
class of dare-devils who paved the way for the
man with a hoe.
The hoe-man will need no history for the bene
fit of posterity, as he is here to stay. When once
he plants his feet on the soil, time or cyclones can
not jar Mm loose :

290 A LONE STAR COWBOY
'Twas good to live when all the range
Without no fence or fuss,
Belonged in partnership with God,
The Government and us.
With skyline bounds from east to west,
With room to go and come,
I liked my fellow man the best
When he was scattered some.
When my old soul hunts range and rest
Beyond the last divide,
Just plant me on some strip of west
That's sunny, lone and wide.
Let cattle rub my headstone round,
And coyotes wail their Mn,
Let hosses come and paw the mound,
But don't you fence it in.
(The End)