A TRIP WHICH TERMINATED IN THE CAPTURE OF "BILLY THE KID."
We went through San Antonio and lay there long enough to have all of our
horses shod, as we were going into a mountainous country where they
couldn't stand it without shoes. While there I visited the Almo building
where poor Davy Crocket and his brave companions bit the dust.
We arrived at our destination, Joe Taylor's ranch, on Paint creek a
small tributary to the Llano, at last; and it was one of the roughest,
rockiest, God-forsaken countries I ever put foot on.
We finally, after three weeks hard work, got the herd of twenty-five
hundred head started towards the north star. We were awful glad to get
out of there too, for our horses were all nearly peetered out, and the
men on the war-path, from having to work twenty-six hours a day.
At Red river we overtook Stephens and changed herds with him, his being
the ones to go to Beal's ranch, while the others were for the Wyoming
market.
After parting with Stephens again we turned in a northwesterly direction
and arrived at the "L. X." ranch on the first day of July.
Moore sent me right out on the Plains to hold the herd I came up with,
until fall. That just suited me as I needed a rest.
After turning the herd loose on the range about the first of September,
I was put in charge of a branding outfit. Our work then was drifting
over the range branding calves.
Late in the fall when all the branding was done, Moore put me in charge
of a scouting outfit and sent me out on the Plains to drift around, the
same as previous winters.
I hadn't been there long, though, when he sent word for me to turn my
outfit over to James McClaughety and come in to the ranch; and to bring
three of my picked men along.
On arriving at the ranch I found that he wanted me to take an outfit and
go to New Mexico after a lot of cattle that "Billy the Kid" had stolen
and run over there.
The cattlemen along the Canadian river had hired a fellow by the name of
Frank Stuart to keep a lookout for stolen cattle in New Mexico; and
along in the summer he came to the Panhandle and notified the different
cattlemen who had him employed that "Billy the Kid" and his gang were
making a regular business of stealing Panhandle cattle and selling them
to an old fellow named Pat Cohglin who had a large ranch on Three
rivers, close to Ft. Stanton.
The outfits then made up a crowd between them, and sent with Stuart,
giving him orders to go right to the Cohglin ranch and take all the
cattle found there, in their brands.
But Mr. Stuart failed to go nearer than forty miles from where the
cattle were reported to be. He claimed that Cohglin, who had a
blood-thirsty crowd around him, sent him word that if he got the cattle
he would have to take some hot lead with them, or something to that
effect. So Stuart came back, claiming he didn't have men enough.
This made Moore mad, so he concluded to rig up an outfit of his own and
send them over after the cattle, hence he sending out after me.
My outfit, after getting it rigged up, consisted of a chuck wagon with
four good mules to pull it, a cook and five picked men, named as
follows: James East, Lee Hall, Lon Chambers, Cal Pope and last but not
by any means least "Big-foot Wallace." They all, except me, had one
extra good horse apiece; I had two. Moore thought it best not to have
many horses to feed, as corn would be scarce and high. He thought it
best to buy more if we needed them.
On starting, Moore gave me these orders: "Stay over there until you get
those cattle or bust the "L. X." company. I will keep you supplied in
money just as long as they have got a nickel left, that I can get hold
of. And when you get the cattle if you think you can succeed in
capturing "Billy the Kid" do so. You can hire all the men you need; but
don't undertake his capture until you have first secured the cattle."
At Tascosa we met Stuart who had succeeded in raising a little crowd to
join us. Mr. McCarty, boss of the "L. I. T." ranch had furnished five
men, a cook and chuck wagon; and Torry, whose ranch was further up the
river, a wagon and two men, while a man by the name of Johnson furnished
a man and wagon. The "L. I. T." outfit was in charge of a fellow by the
name of "Bob" Roberson, whose orders were to get the stolen cattle
before trying to capture the Kid, but in the meantime, to be governed by
Stuart's orders. This placed "Bob" in bad shape, as you will see later.
Stuart, after we all got strung out, took the "buck-board" on the mail
line, and went on ahead to Las Vegas to put in a week or so with his
solid girl.
On arriving at San Lorenzo, New Mexico, I mounted a buck-board and
struck out ahead, to Las Vegas, to buy a lot of corn, grub, ammunition,
etc., to be delivered at Anton Chico, twenty-five miles south of
"Vegas," by the time the crowd got there, so as not to cause any delay.
"Bob" Roberson also gave me money to buy a lot of stuff for his outfit.
Arriving in Vegas, during a severe snow storm, I found there wasn't
fifty bushels of corn in town, the snow storm having delayed the freight
trains. One merchant had just got a bill of several car loads which he
expected to arrive any minute. So I concluded I would wait--and help
Stuart hold the town down.
I wrote a letter to Anton Chico, telling the boys to lay there and take
it easy, as I might be detained several days waiting for corn.
Every morning I would go to the grain merchant, and receive this reply:
"Am looking for it every minute; t'will certainly be here by night."
Not being acquainted in town, time passed off very slowly, so I finally
got to "bucking" at my old favorite game--monte. I won for a while, but
finally my luck took a turn and I lost nearly every dollar I had in my
possession, most of which belonged to my employers. The one hundred
dollars that "Bob" Roberson gave to buy stuff for his outfit, also went.
While standing over the exciting game, after my pile had dwindled down
to an even seventy dollars, I put just half of it, thirty-five dollars,
on the Queen, or "horse," as it is called, being the picture of a woman
on horseback, and made a vow, if I lost that bet that I never would as
long as I lived, "buck" at monte again. I lost, and my vow has been
sacredly kept.
The corn finally arrived, but having no money, I had to run my face by
giving an order on the "L. X." company, payable on demand. The other
stuff, ammunition, etc., also things "Bob" had sent for, I had to buy in
the same manner. Of course I hated to give orders so soon after leaving
the ranch with a pocketfull of money, but then that was the best I
could do under existing circumstances.
After getting the goods started for Anton Chico, Stuart and I hired a
rig and followed.
Arriving in "Chico" we found Barney Mason, (an ex-chum of the "Kid's,"
but now a deputy sheriff under Pat Garrett) there, with a message from
Garrett telling Stuart to meet him in Vegas at a certain date, on
important business. So Stuart struck right back to Vegas, accompanied by
Mason, as the date fixed was only a few days off.
I found the boys all well and having a fat time. The only thing that
bothered me they had run in debt head over heels on the strength of me
having lots of money. The merchants expected their pay according to
contract, immediately after my arrival. I had to satisfy them with
orders on the "L. X." firm.
The boys had lots of news to relate, things that had happened after I
left: One of "Bob's" men had had a shooting scrape with some mexicans;
and "Billy the Kid" and his crowd had been in town, they having come in
afoot, and went out well mounted. He and his five men having hoofed it
through deep snow from the Greathouse ranch, over a hundred miles
southwest of there.
After getting everything in shape we pulled out for White Oaks, one
hundred and fifty miles southwest.
The second night out we camped at the Lewelling Wells, where bright and
early next morning Stuart overtook us; accompanied by Pat Garrett and
Barney Mason. They came with a scheme all cut and dried, by which they
could get the big reward offered for the "Kid." Garrett knew the Kid and
his few remaining followers had been to Chico and left for Fort Sumner a
few days before; and that they were wore out from having been chased all
over the country by a gang of ninety men from White Oaks and vicinity.
Now was his time to strike, if he could just get Stuart to go in cahoots
with him. That was soon accomplished; a promise of half of the reward, I
suppose, done the work. Hence he sending for Stuart to come and see him
in "Vegas" on important business.
After eating breakfast Stuart broke the ice by telling a lie. He knew
our orders were strictly to get the cattle first, and then if we could
assist in the capture of the "Kid" to do so. Therefore he branched out
thus: "Well boys, we have got a job on our hands: 'Kid' is on his way to
Old Mexico with a bunch of Panhandle cattle; and we want every man in
the outfit, except just enough to accompany the wagons to White Oaks, to
go with Garrett and I to overtake them."
"How can that be," someone asked "when Kid and his men just left Anton
Chico a few days ago?"
"Don't know," was the quick answer, unless some of his outfit had the
cattle under herd somewhere down the river waiting for him. If you doubt
my word about it, just ask Mr. Garrett, there.
Of course we all did doubt his word, and were well satisfied that it was
a put up job, to gain the reward.
"Bob" Roberson and I went to one side and talked the matter over, while
Stuart and his little party remained at camp wondering whether their
little scheme would have strength to hold out, on its weak legs or not.
"Bob" was in favor, after we had talked the thing over, of going right
back and telling Stuart in plain English that he lied. But I wouldn't
agree to that for fear it might accidently be true. I thought it strange
that Garrett, who had the reputation of being a model of a man, would
sit by with his mouth shut and listen to such a falsehood. Of course
Garrett couldn't be blamed very much for he, being Sheriff, was
interested in the "Kid's" capture, no matter what became of the cattle
we had come after.
"Bob" and I finally concluded, for fear the statement might be true, to
let them have a few men, but not enough to completely cripple us so that
we couldn't go on after the cattle should we think it best, after
getting to White Oaks.
I let them take three out of my crowd: "Jim" East, "Lon" Chambers and
"Lee" Hall. While "Bob" gave up two, "Tom" Emory and Louis Bozman.
Stuart wasn't satisfied, he wanted more. But not being successful in
getting his whole wants supplied, they all rode off down the Pecos
valley.
Shortly after they left we pulled out on the White Oaks road. That night
it began to snow, and kept it up for several days until the whole ground
was covered to the depth of from two to three feet; so that it was slow
work getting our wagons along through it.
A few days afterwards we came to the Greathouse ranch, or at least to
the hot ashes where it once stood, where "Kid" and six of his daring
followers were surrounded by ninety men one whole night and day. It was
as follows:
A squad of men left White Oaks to hunt the "Kid" who was lurking in the
neighborhood. They suddenly came upon him and Bill Willson cooking their
breakfasts, one morning.
On discovering their enemies they both, after firing a shot apiece, sped
through the mountains like deer, leaving their horses, saddles, coats
and breakfast behind.
One of the shots fired at the White Oaks party took effect in the brain
of a good horse that a young man by the name of Johnny Hudgens was
riding, while the other, went through a hat, on the head of a young man.
After following the trail through the deep snow awhile, and after
satisfying themselves that the two young outlaws couldn't hide their
tracks, the party struck back to White Oaks after something to eat, and
more men.
When they returned, that same evening, there was ninety men in the
crowd. They got on the trail and followed it, until shortly after dark,
when it brought them to within a few hundred yards of the Greathouse
ranch, on the "Vegas" and White Oaks road.
To satisfy themselves that the game was bagged, they circled around the
ranch to see that no trails were leading out from it.
They then stationed themselves in a circle around the house and,
dismounting, began to make breast-works out of pine logs--the ranch
being in the midst of a large pine grove.
When day-light came Greathouse sent a negro, who was stopping with him,
out after the horses which had been hobbled the night before.
Mr. "Nig" hadn't gone but a few hundred yards when he was captured by
the White Oaks boys.
After learning from him that the "Kid" and five of his men were in the
house they sent him back with a note to the "Kid," telling him if he and
his party would come out with their hands up they would be treated as
prisoners of war; if not they would have to stand the consequences, etc.
In a few minutes the negro returned with a note from the "Kid," stating:
"You fellers go to h--l!" or something to that effect.
A consultation was then held, and finally decided to give the boys one
more chance for their lives, before storming the house. So they sent
Mr. Coon back with another note stating, that that would be their last
chance, etc.
In a short while a new messenger came forward. It was "Jim" Greathouse,
proprietor of the ranch. He stated that the "Kid" desired to have a talk
with their leader. On asking him what assurance he could give that their
leader wouldn't be harmed, he replied, "myself." He told them that they
could hold him a prisoner, and if anything happened to Carlyle, he was
willing to stand the consequences.
So Mr. "Jim" Carlyle, he being the leader, marched forward--never more
to return--to have a talk with the "Kid".
Arriving in the house where there was also a saloon, kept there to
accommodate the thirsty traveler, he was made to go up to the bar and
drink "health to Billy the Kid." This of course went against the grain
with "Jim," but then what else could he do now, being at their mercy?
Finally the Kid spied one of the gloves he had left behind in his
retreat the day before, sticking out of "Jim's" coat pocket.
This revived the hardships he and Billy Willson were compelled to
endure, nearly all day the day before, traveling through snow up to
their knees. So pulling the glove out of "Jim's" pocket and holding it
up at arms length, he asked: "Jim, was you with that mob yesterday who
caused me such a tramp through the snow?"
"Yes," was the answer.
"Well then, come up and take your last drink on this earth, for I am
going to blow your light out."
"Jim" of course didn't relish the half pint of rotgut that he was forced
to drink at the point of a colts "45."
After drinking a full glass himself the "Kid" threw his pistol down in
"Jim's" face, full cocked, telling him at the same time to say his
prayers while he slowly counted "three."
The "one, two, three!" was uttered, and then a pistol shot rang out upon
the still air, re-echoing from the mountain sides, in every direction.
The bullet had struck its mark, a tin can hanging on the wall a few
inches above "Jim's" head.
"Well, Jim," was the first words that broke the death-like silence
within, "you are worth several dead men yet, ain't you?" Said "Kid"
grabbing "Jim's" trembling hand and leading him up to the bar, over
which Billy Willson handed the fiery bug-juice.
"You didn't think I would be brute enough to shoot you in _such_ a
cowardly manner, did you, Jim?" continued the "Kid" setting his empty
glass down on the counter.
The shot from within had excited the crowd outside almost to fever heat;
they thinking that it meant their leaders' death. One fellow during the
exciting moment scribbled off a note which read thus: "If Carlyle ain't
out here in ten minutes by the watch, your friend Greathouse will be a
corpse," and sent it to the "Kid" by the negro, who had returned after
delivering the last message which brought Greathouse out.
The note was read in the presence of Carlyle, so that he heard every
word it contained.
"Kid" then answered it by stating: "Carlyle is safe, but we can't give
him up just yet. Now remember, if we hear a shot from the outside we
will take it for granted that you have carried out your threats by
killing Greathouse, and will have to pay you back by killing our
prisoner," etc.
"Jim" knew the substance of the note and trembled in his boots at the
thoughts of an accident shot being fired by his party. He was satisfied
that his men wouldn't do as they threatened in the note after hearing,
from the negro's own lips, that he was still alive. It was the
_accident_ shot that disturbed his mind.
The negro hadn't more than got behind the breastworks with the note when
a man, stationed behind another breastwork, who knew nothing of the
threat having been made, fired a shot at the house "just for fun."
Carlyle, on hearing the shot, made a leap at the only glass window in
the house, taking sash and all with him. But before striking the ground
several bullets from the "Kids" well aimed "45" had pierced his body. He
crawled a few yards and then fell over dead, in plain view of his eighty
odd companions.
"Kid" claimed afterwards that he was sorry for having had to kill "Jim."
Their intentions were to hold him prisoner until dark, when they would
tie him down, so he couldn't give the alarm, and then make their
escape.
From that on, the mad crowd outside kept up a continued firing at the
log house until dark. But doing no damage, as the boys had breast-works
built of sacks of flour, boxes, bedding, etc.
Jim Greathouse during the excitement gave his guards the slip and pulled
for "tall timber" up in the mountains where it was almost impossible for
a mounted man to follow. I have often afterwards heard Greathouse laugh
over the matter and tell how he "just hit the high places," and beat
Goldsmith Maid's fastest time, for the first half mile.
About ten o'clock that night the White Oaker's began to get tired and
hungry, so concluded they would go back to town, forty miles, fill up,
get a fresh mount and return by daylight, without the "Kid" and his men
knowing anything of it. They stole off very slyly, without making any
noise, and when they got about a mile, put their horses down to their
best licks.
About midnight the little party inside made a bold break for liberty.
They headed north-east, with cocked winchesters, determined on fighting
their way out. But they were happily disappointed.
A ten-mile tramp through snow brought them to the Spencer ranch, which
was kept by a kind old man by the name of Spencer, who lived there all
alone, and was trying to establish a shorter route from "Vegas" to the
"Oaks" by turning the road by his place, where there was a fine spring
of water, a luxury the Greathouse ranch lacked, they having to haul
water a distance of several miles from up in the rough mountains.
Just as day was breaking the crowd returned from the "Oaks," and finding
their game had fled they set fire to the house and struck out on the
newly made foot prints.
Arriving at the Spencer ranch they learned, from the old gentleman, that
the "Kid" and his little party of five had been gone about two hours,
and that they had eaten breakfast with him.
After continuing on the trail about an hour longer, until it brought
them to a rough strip of country where they would be compelled to take
it afoot, they gave up the chase, and turned back to take their spite
out on poor old Spencer for feeding the "Kid" and his crowd.
They took the poor old harmless fellow out to a neighboring tree, after
setting fire to his ranch, and put a rope around his neck; but before
they had time to swing him up, a few of the men, who had been opposed
from the start, interfered in the old man's behalf. Thus his neck was
saved, and he is to-day a highly respected citizen in that community,
which has since that time become a rich mining district.
The "Kid" and his men made it into Anton Chico, where, as I stated
before, they stole a good horse and saddle apiece, while the boys were
there waiting for me to arrive from "Vegas," and pulled down the Reo
Pecos.