asked myself if such a monster could be thrown about like a straw, what
must become of our wagons in the valley?
A TIME OF DISASTER
It was much like mockery to see the clouds breaking away immediately
after all the mischief had been done. Before we had been upon the high
land ten minutes the clouds gave way here and there, until we could see
a glint of the sun. The rain ceased falling, and he would have been a
poor weather prophet indeed who could not have foretold that the long
storm had come to an end; but, as I said bitterly to myself, it had
brought with it the end of all our dreams.
[Illustration]
The cattle, mules, and sheep had stampeded. Far away in the distance
I could see that little flock of mine, and yet farther beyond them,
barely to be distinguished by the naked eye, were the cattle.
The mules had disappeared entirely, and I, who was ignorant of a
ranchman's work, believed for the moment that we had seen the last of
every head of stock and that we could never round them up again.
I looked to see father overwhelmed with sorrow, and, therefore, great
was my surprise when I heard him say cheerily:--
"It is well that we had this experience early in our Texan life, else
the disaster might have been greater. Now we know it would be in the
highest degree unwise to build our home in the valley, for if the
stream rises in flood once, it will again, and we might lose our lives.
It will not require any great length of time for us to make good the
damage that has been done."
It almost vexed me that he should speak so lightly of what seemed to me
a disaster which could not be repaired. When I asked how matters might
possibly be worse, he replied laughingly that we were still alive,
our stock would not stray so far but that we could soon herd them up,
and there were many things in the wagons which would not be seriously
harmed by the wetting.
To this day I am inclined to believe he put the best face possible upon
the matter, so that mother might not grieve, and certainly his cheery
words helped us all. What was more to the purpose, the fact that he
set each one some task to perform prevented us from dwelling upon the
possibilities of the future.
THE FLOOD SUBSIDING
The storm had cleared away like magic; within half an hour from the
time our valley was flooded and the rain had ceased falling, the sun
was shining brightly. The waters were no longer rising, and I did not
need father to tell me they must, as a matter of course, subside quite
as quickly as they had come.
[Illustration]
Already I fancied that the tide was falling and that the torrent swept
past with less force. I would have stood idly watching it, but that
father insisted I should go with him and the negroes to a motte of
pecans a short distance away, there to set about putting up a shelter
for mother's comfort.
It was well we were forced to work to the utmost of our power, and
so we did. When night came, mother at least had a shelter over her
head. The black men and I were content to lie down anywhere beneath
the mesquite bushes, and there we slept soundly as if no disaster had
overtaken us. There was no need of standing guard against the wolves,
for we no longer had anything save ourselves to watch over.
When I expressed my fear that the wolves might kill the greater number
of our sheep, father insisted that there was more than a possibility
that all the flock would be found; and he promised that if any were
killed during the night, he would make my loss good from his own share
of the flock.
A JACK RABBIT
When I awoke the first rays of the sun were falling through the
mesquite bushes fairly upon my face. A jack rabbit, his long ears
flapping comically as he humped across the prairie, stopped when he was
nearly opposite the motte of pecans to wonder who these people were,
who had come to disturb him. This was the first object to meet my gaze,
and however great might have been the sorrow in my heart, I could not
have kept from laughing long and loud at the ridiculous creature.
I soon saw, however, that his clownish appearance was not to be counted
strongly against him, for, startled by my rising quickly, he darted
away with the fleetness of a deer. I question whether, if my rifle had
been at that moment in my hands ready for use, I could have done more
than take aim before he was out of sight among the bushes.
[Illustration]
Then came a cheery good morning, as I interpreted it, from a chaparral
cock, and I fancied it was the same fellow who had welcomed us to the
valley. Following this friendly morning greeting came the screaming of
a bird which I afterward knew was called a killdeer. I was wondrously
cheered by the sight and sounds of life around.
REPAIRING DAMAGES
[Illustration]
Then came the work of the day, the first for me being to build a fire,
even though there was nothing to be cooked. It had been my duty at
home in Bolivar County to perform this service, and unwittingly I did
it then, not remembering the fact that all our provisions were at the
bottom of that brown flood. Mother asked, as she came out from her poor
shelter, why I thought it necessary to start a blaze. I looked dumbly
back at the valley which we had left in such haste, and to my surprise
saw the tops of the wagons just appearing above the surface of the
water, so rapidly had the torrent subsided. Father said laughingly, as
if it was a matter which amused him exceedingly:--
"We will wait for breakfast until we can get a side of bacon from one
of the wagons, unless you, Philip, are inclined to dive beneath the
water for one."
It was evident we were to have little to eat during that day if we
depended upon rescuing anything eatable from the flood. So I suddenly
determined that I would not be outdone by father in cheerfulness and
proposed that John go with me in search of the cattle.
"I am thinking all of us must take a hand in that work," father said.
Then turning to mother, he asked if she would be willing to remain
there among the pecan trees alone while we roamed the prairie in search
of the cattle.
It was a useless question, for my mother was a woman who always stood
ready to do that which came to her hand, regardless of her own pleasure
or inclination.
ROUNDING UP THE LIVE STOCK
We set off at once, hungry as we were, on what I thought would be a
useless journey. I was prepared to tramp all day, if necessary, without
getting sight of a single animal belonging to us, and yet, greatly to
my surprise, an hour before noon we came upon the entire flock of sheep
with never a one missing. They were feeding as peacefully as if they
had been herded by a better shepherd than I ever claimed to be.
Gyp, who had kept close to my heels from the time the waters first
came down upon us, now seemed to recover his spirits. For the first
time since we had been forced to flee for our lives he gave vent to a
series of joyful barks, running around and around the flock as if he
had been ordered to do so.
Father proposed that Gyp and I return with the flock to where mother
was waiting, while he and the negroes continued in search of the cattle
and mules. Against this I was not inclined to make any protest, for it
had worried me not a little because she was alone, although I failed to
understand how any harm could come to her.
[Illustration]
When the afternoon was about half spent, the negroes that father had
hired as mule drivers came in with all our herd of oxen and cows. They
reported that father, with John and Zeba, had kept on having seen the
mules far away in the distance, and it was reasonable to suppose they
would return to us before night had set in. This they did not do,
however, and mother and I were troubled because of their absence, yet
we could do nothing but sit there, idly watching the sheep and gazing
down now and then into the valley to mark the ebb of the waters.
[Illustration]
THE FIRST MEAL AFTER THE FLOOD
Half an hour before sunset, when the wagons stood out plainly in view,
with the flood hardly more than up to their axles, I called upon the
negroes to follow me, and we set out to look among our belongings for
something to eat.
After searching about we came upon a side of bacon, which looked but
little the worse for its long bath, save that it was coated in a most
unpleasant fashion with mud. Thinking it impossible for us to find any
other thing in condition for eating until after it had been well dried,
we turned to the grove of pecans with our small prize.
I built a fire near where mother's shelter of branches and leaves had
been set up. Then from the mesquite bushes I cut twigs which would
serve as forks to hold the meat in front of the blaze. After this I
carved the bacon with the knife from my belt, and mother broiled slice
after slice, the savory odor causing me to realize how exceedingly
hungry I was.
We ate heartily, almost greedily. When our hunger had been partly
satisfied, we sat down to await the coming of father, speculating upon
his prolonged absence, until we had imagined that all sorts of evil had
befallen him.
WAITING FOR FATHER
He who crosses a bridge before he comes to it, or, in other words, the
man or the lad who looks into the future for trouble, proves himself to
be foolish, for all the worry of mind one may suffer will not change
events by so much as a hair's breadth.
[Illustration]
If mother and I had remained there talking of this thing or of that
which had happened in Bolivar County, and not looking out across the
prairie with the idea that harm had befallen father, then the evening
might have been a pleasant one; but instead, we were almost distracted
with fear, until about midnight, when the trampling of hoofs in the
distance told us that the mules had been rounded up.
It seemed strange to me, when father and the negroes came into camp,
bringing the mules with them, that in the stampede we had not lost a
single animal. Every ox, cow, mule, and sheep that had been with us in
the valley before the flood was now returned and herded in front of the
pecan motte as peacefully as though nothing had occurred. But not far
away we could hear the snarling, shrieking, and barking of the coyotes
which served almost to make it seem as if that flood had been no more
than a disagreeable dream.
That night the hired negroes and I stood watch. Father, John, and Zeba
had traveled so far afoot, and were so weary that I could not have the
heart to rouse them when it came time for our relief from duty, and so
we paced around the herds and flock until daylight.
When the first rays of the sun glinted all the foliage around us with
gold, it was possible for me to look down into the valley from which we
had fled, and get some slight idea of the misfortune that had overtaken
us.
Because of the weight of the wagons, and owing to the fact that they
were heavily laden with farming tools and such things as would not
float, they had hardly been disturbed. Also, owing, I suppose, in a
great degree, to their being sunk so far in the mud after the first
onrush of the torrent, they had not been knocked about to any extent.
RECOVERING OUR GOODS
As a matter of course everything, including the grass, was covered with
mud; but the water, except here and there where it stood in small pools
on the surface, had retreated to its proper place between the banks,
and there was nothing to prevent us from caring for our goods.
[Illustration]
Mother cooked all that was left of the bacon, after which, with hunger
still gnawing at our stomachs, we went down to set our belongings to
rights, and a wearisome day it was.
The harness of the mules had been swept downstream so far that we
did not come upon any portion of it until the day was nearly done.
Therefore, we could not make any effort toward dragging the wagons to
the hard ground, but were forced to carry in our hands every article
which it was necessary to spread out upon the clean grass to dry.
About nightfall, after having found enough harness for one team of
mules, we succeeded in getting a single cart up to where mother's
camp had been made. Then it began to look as if we had really taken
possession of this portion of Texas, for all around were spread
clothing, bedding, household furniture, farming tools, and this thing
and that which went to make up the cargo we had brought from Bolivar
County.
The wagon covers which had been spread over our cook camp had floated
down the stream beyond the possibility of our finding them before
another day. Therefore, that night, my mother slept once more in her
shelter of branches and leaves; father and I made a bed for ourselves
in the water-soaked wagon; and the negroes, or such of them as were not
on duty guarding the cattle, lay down on the ground beneath it.
SETTING TO WORK IN GOOD EARNEST
From this on we had plenty with which to occupy our hands as well as
our minds. There was ever the necessity of keeping the cattle rounded
up, the sheep herded, and the mules from straying, and all this was the
more difficult because they were now on the prairie instead of in the
valley.
[Illustration]
Father was determined that his first work in this new country should be
the building of a house, and very shortly after the flood subsided, I
understood what he meant, when he spoke of my taking a hand in getting
out the lumber.
First, as a matter of course, we hauled the other wagons out of the
valley, making a small corral with them near the pecan motte where we
had decided to build a home. Then we hunted during a full day along
the banks of the river for such of our belongings as had been carried
away by the flood, and found everything of value before the search was
ended.
Two of the negroes were told off to guard the flock and the herd,
either father or I keeping a sharp eye on them meanwhile, lest they
should neglect their duties. After the ground plan of our house was
staked out, father blazed such of the trees as he decided must be
felled in order to provide us with lumber.
The negroes were set at work cutting these down, while father made his
preparations for that sawmill which amused me before it was finished,
and caused my back and arms to ache sorely before it had fully served
its purpose.
SAWING OUT LUMBER
Perhaps you may not be able to understand how we could convert the
trunks of trees into lumber without a sawmill, nor did I at first; but,
as I have said, I soon came to have a very clear and painful idea of
how it might be done.
First a deep trench eight or ten feet long, and perhaps four feet wide,
was dug in the prairie near where the trees had been felled. At either
end of this trench, standing perhaps three feet above the surface, was
a scaffolding of small timbers.
When the first tree was down and had been trimmed of its branches, all
hands were called to raise it up on these two scaffolds, and there it
lay, each end projecting four or five feet beyond the uprights.
[Illustration]
Directly over this, at one end, was a small, movable platform, as I may
call it, constructed of the trees which could not be used for building
purposes, and of such a height that he who stood upon it would be no
less than three feet above the log which lay upon the scaffolding.
When this was done, father brought out from our belongings a long saw,
such as we of Bolivar County called a crosscut. It had long teeth
which were set up at wide angles, so that it would make a broad cut
without being in danger of binding between the sides of the log. This
saw was perhaps six feet long, and provided with a handle at each end
projecting out on both sides of the blade in such a manner that one
could seize it with both his hands.
Then I began to have a very good idea of how timber might be produced
without a mill, for father, directing me to stand in the pit while
he took his station on the platform above, made the first cut with
the saw. After it had fairly been started in the groove I was called
upon to work at the lower end of it, alternately pushing and pulling,
while father did the same. Thus the sharp teeth were forced through
the wood, slowly to be sure, but none the less steadily, and as we cut
board after board the log was pushed forward or pulled back on the
scaffolding so that we might not cut into the scaffolds. You may well
fancy that I was not much pleased at thus being forced to do my share
in getting out material for the house.
LABORING IN THE SAW PIT
Sheep herding is none too pleasant a task; but as compared with this
hand sawmill of ours it seemed like positive pleasure. I said to
myself that I would never again complain of the hardships of herding a
flock on no matter how large a range, because the memory of this method
of working out lumber would always remain fresh in my mind.
[Illustration]
I was not in the pit very many hours during the day. One of the negroes
was called to take my place at intervals; but we could not well trust
this work, rough and arduous though it was, to the black men because of
their carelessness. Once, when we left two of them alone while father
and I helped mother with the family washing at the bank of the creek,
we found that the stupid fellows, instead of sawing the board the same
thickness all the way along, had made it thin in one place and thick in
another, until it was practically useless for building purposes.
WILD CATTLE
Before we had worked out by this slow process all the lumber that would
be necessary for making our home, we were surprised to find that our
herd of cattle had been increased by three handsome beasts, two cows
and a bull, black as coals, with glistening, long, white horns.
[Illustration]
They suddenly appeared among our herd, causing me, who first discovered
them, the greatest possible surprise. It seemed almost like some work
of magic that we should have gained these fellows without raising a
hand. Thinking that they might be branded, as is the custom in Texas,
I tried to come near enough to find out, but I soon understood that I
might as well have tried to make close acquaintance with the shiest
antelope that ever crossed the prairie.
These cattle were so wild that at the first sight of a man they would
toss up their horns, bellow, and set off across the country with their
tails raised high as a signal of danger, putting the very spirit of
mischief into our cattle.
After making two or three vain attempts to come up with them, I
realized that unless I would take the chances of stampeding our whole
herd, I must leave them alone.
When I told father of the wonderful discovery that we had grown the
richer by three cattle, he treated the matter very calmly and explained
the seeming mystery by saying that we were not the only persons who
had found additions to their live stock, for during his first visit to
Texas he had heard much concerning such cattle.
During the years from 1834 to 1836, when the Mexican army was
retreating, the Indians ravaged the country between the Nueces and
the Rio Grande to such extent that the Mexicans, owners and herdsmen,
abandoned their stock ranches, leaving behind them large herds of
cattle which could not be carried away save at great risk, and these
beasts had since then multiplied rapidly.
A DISAGREEABLE INTRUDER
The officers of the Texan army had been accustomed to send mounted men
into the abandoned country, driving out the cattle for the use of the
army and thus supplying the troops with meat at no other expense than
that of searching for it, until there were no longer large herds to be
seen. Now and then, however, as in our case, a ranchman would suddenly
find three or four, or possibly a dozen, among his own herd.
[Illustration]
Father was not much pleased at this addition to his stock, for those
black fellows were so wild, having ranged the country as they willed
during eight or ten years, that they played the mischief with the tame
cattle, as I had already seen. At the slightest cause of alarm, they
would set off in mad flight, and thus stampede the quietest herd that
was ever rounded up.
"To-morrow we will shoot that bull," father said, "if it can be done
without making too much trouble among our own cattle. Then perhaps
the cows will quiet down a bit, and find it more agreeable to behave
themselves than to run races across the prairie without cause."
Half an hour before daylight next morning father and I, with plenty of
ammunition, set off alone to do our best at cutting the wild bull out
from the herd, and ending his career with a rifle ball.
We left our camp, without waiting for breakfast, believing in our
ignorance that the hunt would not be long; but very shortly after it
began we understood that we had more of a task on our hands than had
been anticipated.
To get within rifle shot of the herd seemed for a long time an
impossibility. No sooner would we come in sight of the animals than up
would go their tails and away across the prairie all the cattle would
dash as if suddenly grown wild.
ODD HUNTING
Then it was necessary to creep up on them, stalking the huge creatures
as carefully as we might have hunted deer; but so wild were they that
the least incautious movement when we were creeping through the grass,
wriggling along like snakes, would provoke a snort of terror, and away
the whole herd would go again.
More than once I urged father to turn back, saying we might drive our
own cattle entirely across the republic of Texas, and finally lose
them, if we continued our efforts. I pointed out to him that already
we were at least five or six miles from home and had not had our
breakfast; but he replied grimly that if we would save our own stock,
it was necessary to put an end to the career of that black bull, who
seemed possessed by the spirit of mischief, or the tame cattle might
grow so wild it would be impossible to herd them.
[Illustration]
We made our way slowly at times, and again we ran swiftly if there was
no danger of being seen by the beasts, for not less than fifteen miles,
when we came to a pecan grove in which we hid ourselves, with the idea
of resting from the exertion of the chase.
While we sat there concealed by the foliage, the very animal we were
so eager to kill led the herd directly toward us. He kept on feeding
leisurely twenty or thirty paces in advance of the others, and sniffing
the air with each mouthful.
Fortunately for us the wind was blowing directly from him toward the
pecan motte, and therefore he failed to scent any danger.
On he came, slowly at first, as handsome a beast as I ever saw. When
he had ventured thus unsuspiciously within perhaps half a rifle shot,
father whispered to me that I should take careful aim, either at the
bull's neck or just behind the fore shoulder, and when he gave the
signal, I was to fire.
It seemed to me that the two shots rang out at the same instant, for
they sounded like one, and the black bull pitched forward on his knees
as if struck by lightning. A second later he had rolled over dead, and
the work was finished, save the walk of fifteen miles before it would
be possible to satisfy our hunger.
A SUPPLY OF FRESH MEAT
We covered the carcass with the branches of the pecan trees as well as
possible, in order to keep the wolves and the turkey buzzards away,
for even though we had been here but a short time, I had learned
that anything eatable left exposed on the prairie, particularly
fresh meat, would soon be devoured by the noisy coyotes or those
unwholesome-looking birds. Then we set out on our return to the home
camp, leaving the cattle to recover from the fright caused by the
report of our rifles as best they might.
[Illustration]
When we arrived, at about three o'clock in the afternoon, father set
one of the negroes to harnessing two mules to the small wagon, and
announced that I was to go back with a couple of the men to bring in
our game, for we could not well afford to lose so much fresh meat.
The day had been a long one before I found opportunity to crawl into my
bed, for it was near midnight when we got back with the carcass of the
bull.
When I opened my eyes next morning, I remembered the saw pit, believing
I must spend another day at the slow task of making boards and joists
from green wood, but father was at work cutting the carcass of the bull
into thin strips, while John and Zeba were building a little scaffold
on the prairie a short distance from mother's shelter.
"JERKING" BEEF
This was the first process towards "jerking" beef, or, in other words,
drying it in the sun, a method of preserving meat which I fancy has
come down to us from the Indians. Before the morning was spent I
discovered that there are more disagreeable tasks than that of pushing
a crosscut saw up and then pulling it down.