A START UP THE CHISHOLM TRAIL.
I put in the following winter branding Mavricks, skinning cattle and
making regular trips to Matagorda; I still remained in partnership with
Horace Yeamans in the skinning business. I made considerable money that
winter as I sold a greater number of Mavricks than ever before. But the
money did me no good as I spent it freely.
That coming spring, it being 1874, I hired to Leander Ward of Jackson
county to help gather a herd of steers for the Muckleroy Bros., who were
going to drive them to Kansas. I had also made a contract with
Muckleroy's boss, Tom Merril, to go up the trail with him, therefore I
bid my friends good-bye, not expecting to see them again until the
coming fall. My wages were thirty-five dollars per month and all
expenses, including railroad fare back home.
After a month's hard work we had the eleven hundred head of wild and
woolly steers ready to turn over to the Muckleroy outfit at Thirteen
mile point on the Mustang, where they were camped, ready to receive
them. Their outfit consisted mostly of Kansas "short horns" which they
had brought back with them the year before.
It was a cold, rainy evening when the cattle were counted and turned
over to Tom Merril. Henry Coats, Geo. Gifford and myself were the only
boys who were turned over with the herd--that is kept right on. We were
almost worn out standing night guard half of every night for the past
month and then starting in with a fresh outfit made it appear tough to
us.
That night it began to storm terribly. The herd began to drift early and
by midnight we were five or six miles from camp. The steers showed a
disposition to stampede but we handled them easy and sang melodious
songs which kept them quieted. But about one o'clock they stampeded in
grand shape. One of the "short horns," a long legged fellow by the name
of Saint Clair got lost from the herd and finally when he heard the
singing came dashing through the herd at full speed yelling "let 'em
slide, we'll stay with'em!" at every jump.
They did slide sure enough, but he failed to "stay with 'em." For
towards morning one of the boys came across him lying in the grass sound
asleep. When he came dashing through the herd a stampede followed; the
herd split up into a dozen different bunches--each bunch going in a
different direction. I found myself all alone with about three hundred
of the frightened steers. Of course all I could do was to keep in front
or in the lead and try to check them up. I finally about three o'clock
got them stopped and after singing a few "lullaby" songs they all lay
down and went to snoring.
After the last steer dropped down I concluded I would take a little nap
too, so locking both legs around the saddle-horn and lying over on the
tired pony's rump, with my left arm for a pillow, while the other still
held the bridle-reins, I fell asleep. I hadn't slept long though when,
from some unaccountable reason, every steer jumped to his feet at the
same instant and was off like a flash. My pony which was sound asleep
too, I suppose, became frightened and dashed off at full speed in the
opposite direction. Of course I was also frightened and hung to the
saddle with a death grip. I was unable to raise myself up as the pony
was going so fast, therefore had to remain as I was, until after about
a mile's run I got him checked up.
Just as soon as I got over my scare I struck out in a gallop in the
direction I thought the cattle had gone, but failed to overtake them. I
landed in camp almost peetered out about nine o'clock next morning. The
rest of the boys were all there, just eating their breakfast. Tom Merril
and Henry Coats had managed to hold about half of the herd, while the
balance were scattered and mixed up with "range" cattle for twenty miles
around.
After eating our breakfast and mounting fresh horses we struck out to
gather up the lost steers. We could tell them from the range cattle by
the fresh "road" brand--a brand that had been put on a few days
before--therefore, by four o'clock that evening we had all but about one
hundred head back to camp and those Leander Ward bought back at half
price--that is he just bought the road brand or all cattle that happened
to be left behind.
On arriving at camp, we all caught fresh horses before stopping to eat
dinner or supper, whichever you like to call it, it being then nearly
night. The pony I caught was a wild one and after riding up to camp and
dismounting to eat dinner, he jerked loose from me and went a flying
with my star-spangled saddle.
I mounted a pony belonging to one of the other boys and went in hot
pursuit. I got near enough once to throw my rope over his rump and that
was all. After a run of fifteen miles I gave it up as a bad job and left
him still headed for the Rio Grande.
I got back to camp just at dark and caught a fresh horse before stopping
to eat my supper. It was still raining and had kept it up all day long.
Mr. "Jim" Muckleroy had an extra saddle along therefore I borrowed it
until I could get a chance to buy me another one.
After eating a cold supper, the rain having put the fire out, I mounted
and went on "guard," the first part of the night, until one o'clock,
being my regular time to stay with the herd, while the last "guard"
remained in camp and slept.
About ten o'clock it began to thunder and lightning, which caused the
herd to become unruly. Every time a keen clash of thunder would come the
herd would stampede and run for a mile or two before we could get them
to stop. It continued in that way all night so that we lost another
night's rest; but we managed to "stay with 'em" this time; didn't even
loose a steer.
That morning we struck out on the trail for Kansas. Everything went on
smoothly with the exception of a stampede now and then and a fuss with
Jim Muckleroy, who was a regular old sore-head. Charlie, his brother was
a white man. Where the trouble began, he wanted Coats and I, we being
the only ones in the crowd who could ride wild horses--or at least who
were willing to do so, to do the wild horse riding for nothing. We
finally bolted and told him that we wouldn't ride another wild horse
except our regular "mount," unless he gave us extra pay. You see he
expected us to ride a horse a few times until he began to get docile and
then turn him over to one of his muley pets while we caught up a fresh
one.
At High Hill in Fayette county I got the bounce from old Jim and a
little further on Coats got the same kind of a dose; while nearing the
northern state-line Geo. Gifford and Tom Merril, the boss, were fired;
so that left old Jim in full charge. He hired other men in our places.
He arrived in Wichita, Kansas with eight hundred steers, out of the
eleven hundred we started with.
After leaving the outfit I rode to the Sunset railroad at Shusenburg and
boarded a train for Columbus on the Colorado river. "Pat" Muckleroy,
Charlie's son, who was about eighteen years old, quit and went with me.
His home was in Columbus and he persuaded me to accompany him and have a
good time.
On arriving in Columbus I went with Pat to his home where I remained
during my stay in that place. I found Mrs. M., Pat's mother, to be a
kind-hearted old lady, and I never shall forget the big, fat apple
cobblers she used to make; she could beat the world making them. There
were also two young Misses in the family, Nannie and Mary, who made time
pass off pleasantly with me.
It being seventy-five miles to Tresspalacious and there being no
railroad nearer than that, I had to wait for a chance to get home. I
could have bought a horse and saddle when I first struck town but after
remaining there a week I began to get light in the pocket, for it
required quite a lot of money to keep up my end with the crowd that Pat
associated with.
At last after about a three weeks stay, I struck Asa Dawdy, an old
friend from Tresspalacious. He was there with a load of stock and was
just fixing to load them on the cars to ship them to Galveston when I
ran afoul of him. He had sold his saddle and was going to put his pet
pony, one that he wouldn't sell, into a pasture until some other time
when he happened up there. So you see I was in luck, he turned the pony
over to me to ride home on.
After buying and rigging up a saddle I left town flat broke. I spent my
last dime for a glass of lemonade just before leaving. Thus ended my
first experience on the "trail."