I ABANDON THE PRINTER’S TRADE AND TAKE UP SURVEYING.
After two years in Waxahachie, I decided to move back to Houston, where
I concluded to learn the printer’s trade, and for this purpose secured a
position in the office of the Houston Telegraph, which, at that time,
perhaps, had the largest circulation and was the leading paper in the
State. It was published by Allen & Brockett. Soon after entering this
office and acting as printer’s devil for a while, they promoted me to
the job office, where I became expert in doing fancy work, such as
marriage notices, ball invitations, etc., but I was unable to collect
any salary; these people were always hard up for money, and I never got
anything out of it but my board and sufficient money for clothing. I
finally became disgusted and went to Galveston, where I had an offer
from a man by the name of Spratt, who published a little paper called
the Ignis Fatuous or Jack o’ the Lantern. As the name indicates it was a
humorous paper, containing criticisms in a humorous vein, of leading
politicians of the city and the State. It was one of the most popular
periodicals then published, selling at ten cents a copy, by newsboys,
without having any left over each week. Here, too, I failed to get my
pay, though I set up the whole paper and made up the forms, which were
sent up to the Gazette’s office on Friday, where it was struck off ready
for the sale of the paper on Saturday. I did my work at Spratt’s home,
where he had set apart a room containing cases. I had board at the same
place.
Spratt was a billiard fiend and, as soon as he got the money for his
papers on Saturday, he would stay in town, play billiards until his
money was exhausted, come home about Tuesday, and then prepare to
furnish matter for the next issue. I worked with him for about sixty
days. Failing to get my pay, I became disgusted and concluded that the
printer’s trade was a good thing for me to drop. I then went back to
Waxahachie and again went to work with the Angleman house and formed the
acquaintance of an old land surveyor by the name of James E. Patton, who
employed me to go with him on surveying expeditions, just for company,
paying me a good salary. I furnished my own horse and arms, the latter
of which he never carried. He was firm in the belief that Indians would
never trouble him, although it was said that he was taken prisoner by
the Indians, having been caught surveying lands down on Chambers’ Creek
in Ellis County. They turned him loose, which was considered one of the
most remarkable cases of Indian generosity ever known on the frontier,
as they always killed surveyors whom they caught locating land.
It was also related of this old man, that, in the early days, when he
surveyed lands in Ellis County, he substituted chain carrying by
hobbling his ankles just the length of a vara, and stepped off the land,
in place of measuring it with a chain. Colonel Patton was one of the
most popular surveyors and land locaters in Texas. His compensation for
locating headright certificates was one-half of the land, which made him
one of the richest men in lands, at the time of his death, in that
section of the State.
My first trip with Colonel Patton was to Fort Belknap, Texas, where he
had formed the acquaintance of a man by the name of Gibbons, who moved
there from Arkansas and owned about a dozen negroes, with whom he
cultivated a considerable plantation just across the river from Fort
Belknap. Gibbons had an Indian wife, a Delaware, who was dark complected
like other Indians, but she had a younger sister, who married General
Tarrant, an old Texas pioneer and Indian fighter, after whom Tarrant
County is named. General Tarrant made his home in Ellis County and he
and Colonel Patton were great friends. General Tarrant happened to be on
a visit at Gibbons’ when we arrived there on our first expedition, and
we were made to feel at home before starting out surveying.
It was the custom there for surveyors to make up a party of a half dozen
or more to go on these expeditions, for protection against Indians who
were then roaming over that whole section of the country. There was an
Indian agency about twelve or fifteen miles below Belknap, in charge of
Captain Shapley Ross, the father of General L. S. Ross, then a boy like
myself. This agency was composed of remnant tribes of Indians, probably
a half dozen or more, whom the Comanche Indians had run in off the
range. These Indians had the protection of the United States Government
and, of course, pretended to be friendly. The most uncivilized Indian in
this agency was the Tonkawa, who, it was claimed, were cannibals. I
remember as we passed through Keechie Valley, on our way to Weatherford,
we stopped at a store for about an hour, resting and talking, when the
storekeeper told us of a trouble he came very near having the day
before. It seems a Tonkawa Indian had offered to trade him a pony for a
young Kentuckian, who had just come out from his State and was clerking
in the store. He asked the Indian what he wanted to do with the
Kentuckian if he accepted his offer. The Indian told him that he wanted
to eat him. The young man got a gun and was about to shoot the Indian,
when the storekeeper stopped him and made the Indian leave.
There was another Indian agency at Camp Cooper, about forty miles west
of Belknap, presided over by a man by the name of Neighbors. This agency
had a tribe of the Southern Comanches, who were also run in by the
Northern Comanches, or Apaches. These Southern Comanches claimed to be
friendly with the whites in order to have the protection of the United
States Government, but they, and occasionally the Ross Agency Indians,
were believed to be responsible for many of the raids on our exposed
frontier; especially the Indians at the upper agency at Camp Cooper.
These raids became frequent; one of them culminating in the murder of
two families in Jack County, and the carrying off of a little boy and
girl as prisoners. Being hotly pursued by Rangers and citizens, they
were forced to abandon the boy, whom they threw into the brush to be
found by the pursuers. He made the statement that he was taken upon a
horse, behind a red-headed white man, who seemed to be the leader of the
band. This red-headed white man was seen in the Indian camp, located up
on the Canadian River, at different times, by scouts.
Major Neighbors, while on a visit to Fort Belknap, became involved in a
dispute with one of the citizens, who charged that his Indians were
responsible for many of the raids on our frontier. The dispute resulted
in a fight and Major Neighbors was killed by the citizen. His death
created quite an excitement on the frontier, as he was a United States
officer and the Government asked an investigation of the affair, but
there was never anything done about it.
While on my first trip with Colonel Patton, while we were making our
headquarters at Gibbons’, we found General Tarrant and his wife, the
sister of Mrs. Gibbons. This lady, by the way, was as fair as most of
the white women on the frontier. Their adopted son, Jesse, was about my
age. Gibbons had two sons, one about my age, the other a year younger.
We boys became great friends, and sometimes engaged in hunting and
fishing.
One day we four decided to go fishing at the mouth of a creek, where it
emptied into the Brazos, about three-quarters of a mile below the house.
We cut fishing poles at a thicket near the creek. After fishing a while
without any result, we got tired and commenced shooting with our
pistols, of which each had one. All boys of our age always then went
armed with six-shooters, the custom of the frontier. After shooting at a
log in the creek, thereby emptying our pistols, we did not reload, not
deeming it necessary just then, and decided to go in bathing in the
river. The river being very low, was only running on the Fort Belknap
side, and we had to walk a considerable distance on a sand bar to the
water. Having just stripped ourselves of our clothing, ready to go in,
we heard voices calling on the south bank of the river and discovered a
group of men beckoning to us to come over to them. These proved to be
General Tarrant, Colonel Patton, Gibbons, his overseer and a blacksmith,
who, with his wife, occupied a log cabin on Gibbons’ place, he being at
work for the troops at the Fort.
When we reached this party of men we were asked where we had been. When
we told them that we had cut our fishing poles at a thicket, they
commenced laughing and guying this blacksmith, telling him that his wife
had mistaken us for Indians and concluded that this was a sufficient
explanation of the alarm about Indians that she had created. This
blacksmith insisted on going down to this thicket, saying that he was
satisfied that his wife was not frightened and made no mistake; that she
must have seen Indians there, but they would not hear to it, and in
going up to the house, stopped at the cabin and told this woman that it
was us boys that she saw, in place of Indians. She, too, insisted that
they were mistaken, that there were surely Indians in that thicket, but
they paid no further attention to the matter and went home.
It was the custom there to tie all horses in the yard, around the house,
which was done that night. When we woke next morning we found all of our
horses gone. When they then investigated the thicket where we boys cut
our fishing poles, they found plenty of Indian signs, such as small
pieces of buffalo meat and moccasin tracks. The matter, of course, was
reported to the commandant of the fort, who got his troops ready to
start in pursuit the next evening. This was about the character of
protection afforded by the United States troops. If rangers had been
stationed there, they would have been in the saddle in less than an hour
and continued the pursuit until the Indians were caught up with.