Philip of Texas: A Story of Sheep Raising in Texas
Part 4
Probably, if I had moved more cautiously, I might have circled around them, and thus checked their flight until the negroes could come up; but I was so thoroughly alarmed by the rapid rise of the water and the ominous roaring in the distance, that I set off at full speed directly toward the animals, and in a twinkling they broke into a gallop, stampeding the sheep by plunging among them.
As if this was not sufficient disaster, the cattle, which had been feeding fully a mile farther down the valley, now wheeled suddenly about in alarm, and set off over the ridge, bellowing with fear, their tails swinging high in the air.
So unreasoning was I in the sudden fright which had come upon me, that I failed to realize it would be useless to pursue any of our live stock, until father shouted for me to turn back without loss of time. His voice, even though he was no more than two hundred yards away, came dimly to my ears because of the increasing roar in the distance, which sounded more and more threatening each instant.
When I gathered my wits about me sufficiently to obey the command, I saw that he, with the negroes, was striving desperately to haul one of the heavy wagons from the bank of the stream; but so sodden with water was the earth that the wheels sank into the soft surface to the depth of two or three inches, and, struggle as they might, it could not be moved a single pace.
SAVING OUR OWN LIVES
"Gather up the spare clothing, and take your mother with you!" father shouted as I came up to where the black men were standing dumbly by the side of the wagon they had so vainly attempted to haul. I cried out dully, grown stupid with fear, asking where I should go with mother; but even while speaking, I had sufficient common sense remaining to pull out from among our belongings as many water-soaked garments as I could get my hands on.
"Go to the high land!" father shouted, and literally dragged mother out from her seat in the wagon, where she had been crouching since the water flooded the cook camp. She had her wits about her sufficiently to understand what father would have us do. Calling on me to follow, she took from my arms a portion of the burden and set off straight across that increasing flood of water in the direction taken by the animals. She realized that they, prompted by instinct, would lead the way to the highest point of land.
Thus we two, mother and I, abandoned father and all our belongings, and it surely seemed as if we were leaving him to a terrible fate. I would have come to a full stop in order to urge him to follow us, but mother called out that I should not slacken pace. She said that he knew better than we what should be done, and that he would follow without loss of time.
It seemed to me that we had no sooner gained the top of the bank, and from there the highest point of one of the prairie hills, when, looking around, I saw father and the negroes coming at full speed, as if fleeing from death itself. And this really was the case, as I saw a few seconds later. I would have run toward the edge of the valley in the hope of helping them, but mother held me back.
A RAGING TORRENT
The roar of the coming flood was deafening. Father and the slaves were yet clambering up the side of the valley when I saw, coming down the channel of the river, a raging torrent which bore on its surface trunks of trees such as would have dealt death to any one who might have been in their line of advance. On the waters were fragments of wood, bunches of mesquite bushes, and I fancied now and then the body of an ox; but it was all a scene of confusion, of noise, and of menace.
During perhaps ten seconds I felt certain father would be swept away by the raging stream which was filling the valley. The torrent swelled until the crest of the muddy waves swept against Zeba's legs, for he was the last of that little company struggling to save his life. Not one moment too soon did father and the negroes gain the high land. They were hardly in safety when all our valley was filled with water, and I knew that beneath the flood was everything we owned in the world save the live stock.
Father came swiftly on until he stood by mother's side, clasping both her hands. But he spoke not a word, and I realized that we had come from Bolivar County with all our belongings only to have them swept away, and that we were destitute.
As I saw a huge pecan tree, tossing and rolling on the brown waves, I 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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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