Part 5

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.

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.

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.

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.

Before all the meat had been cut into thin ribbons and hung on the scaffolding, we were covered with blood, and on the topmost branches of the pecans sat a dozen or more of those miserable turkey buzzards, awaiting an opportunity to come down and eat what was left of the carcass. It was necessary to keep as close a watch over those birds as we did over the wolves, else all our labor would have been speedily devoured. When there was an opportunity for a much-needed bath, father allowed no more than two of us to go into the stream at a time, obliging the others to remain where they might stand guard over the meat.

When night came, the ribbons of flesh were not wholly cured and we found it necessary to gather them up and store them in one of the wagons lest the dew spoil the flesh; in the morning we hung all the thin strips out again, standing over them jealously.

It seemed to me just then as if all our days and nights in Texas were to be spent standing guard over something. During the night we were forced to watch lest the wolves devour our sheep, and during the day we had to keep a careful eye over the turkey buzzards who seemed on the verge of starvation all the time. In addition to this labor, it was necessary to perform the regular work on the ranch, and thus it may be seen that we did not have much time for idling.

SEARCHING FOR THE CATTLE AGAIN

The next day father sent out two of the negroes to search for our cattle, believing it would be useless for us to make any attempt at herding them until after they had had ample time to quiet down from the alarm caused by the chase and the killing of the bull.

The black men were absent from the camp twenty hours before coming back with all the herd, and to have heard these negroes complain, one might have thought that they had walked a full hundred miles. According to their story they traveled a long, long distance before coming upon the herd, and then they found it extremely difficult to drive the beasts in toward the Trinity River, because the two wild cows made every effort to stampede the herd whenever the negroes came in sight.

Perhaps I do not need to set down in detail all that we did during this first season on the Trinity, but I will tell what we accomplished.

OUR NEW HOME

First, and next to the raising of sheep, the most important matter to me was the building of the house. This we did, working at odd times when not engaged in planting, and seeing to it that never an hour was wasted, either by ourselves or by the negroes. When the work was finished, truly we had a building of which to be proud, for this new home seemed quite as fine as the one we had left in Bolivar County.

It was built throughout of sawed lumber; the roof was made of a double thickness of boards, and the crevices on the sides of the house covered with the first strips taken from the trunks of the trees, with the bark still remaining; but this did not, in my eyes, detract from the general appearance of the whole.

Perhaps it was because I had labored so hard and so long on this home of ours, that it appeared so beautiful in my sight. At all events, it was most convenient, as even mother admitted. We had one room on the front, overlooking the river, and back of that a storeroom and a kitchen, which, if not exactly fit for a king, served our purposes very well.

In the loft, which of course was directly under the roof, we had our beds, mother, father, and I. Just behind the building, or, I should say, on the other side of the pecan motte, was a small hut built of round logs for the two negroes. We had sent back on foot those men whom father hired to drive the teams; therefore when our house was finished and the season at an end, only John and Zeba remained to aid in the labor of the ranch.

PLANTING, AND BUILDING CORRALS

We had planted no less than three acres of corn and potatoes, all of which promised a bountiful harvest, and gave token of yielding two or three times as much as we could have hoped for on the richest of the Mississippi bottoms.

In addition to the dwellings, we had built a large pen for the sheep, made of mesquite bushes stuck so firmly into the ground that the coyotes would not dare attempt to force a passage through.

We also had smaller pens for the sheep with lambs, perhaps a dozen or more of them; for, as you know, the mother sheep very often will not take kindly to her young, and it is necessary either to tie her up, or put her in some small inclosure with the little fellow, during two or three days, until she becomes acquainted with him and is willing to admit that he belongs to her.

During the season the last work done by the negroes was the splitting of rails. With these and with the wagons, we made a corral for the mules, where they could be inclosed at night, or whenever there was promise of a norther which might stampede them. For those fierce storms came, as it seemed to me, very often.

BAR-O RANCH

As for the oxen and cows, they were still allowed to roam over the prairie. We could not well provide them with a corral, because cattle often feed at night, and must have plenty of room in which to roam; but we took good care that they were branded, father using as his mark a big letter O with a line drawn across the middle.

Because of this brand I decided we would call our new home the Bar-O Ranch, and to-day I venture to say it is as well known in the state of Texas as any other, even though we may not number our cattle by the thousands, as do the more wealthy cattle raisers.

During all that season we had but two visitors, and how they chanced to stray down our way so far off the trail I was curious to learn. They were Mexicans, each driving a cart of home manufacture, which was the oddest contrivance I had ever seen.

AN ODD CART

The wheels are about seven feet high, made of three pieces of plank perhaps three inches thick, the middle one being the widest, and the two outsides quite narrow, the whole being rounded into the shape of a wheel.

The axle on which it is hung, for the carts are built somewhat after the fashion of a gig, is nothing more than a straight stick of timber with the ends rounded off to fit into holes cut through the center of the wheels.

On this axle, fastened to it by wooden pins and strips of rawhide, is the body of the cart, formed of timbers no less than three or four inches square. The tongue, to which the oxen are yoked, is only a straight piece of heavy hickory bound to the axle with thongs and pins in the most awkward manner possible.

Take it all in all, it is as heavy, as ill-contrived, and as odd a vehicle as one can imagine. Because of its exceeding great weight, the Mexicans cannot carry very heavy loads, and, because there are no hubs to the wheels and because the owners of the carts use little or no grease, it is possible at times to hear the creaking of the huge wheels a mile or more away.

If a Mexican cart is an ill-looking contrivance, then surely the yoke for the oxen fully matches it, for it is nothing more than a piece of timber, the edges rounded somewhat so they may not chafe the animals' necks, laid directly behind the horns, and lashed there firmly with thongs of rawhide. It is made fast to the tongue of the cart in the same awkward manner. It must cause the beasts much discomfort, and certainly the strongest oxen are unable to pull half as much of a load as when a yoke with a smooth bow is properly adjusted around the necks.

THE VISITORS

These Mexicans, who were driving two oxen to each cart, claimed to be going to Fort Towson after certain goods which were to be left there for them; but I doubted the statements made, as did father, for they had their unwieldy vehicles partly filled with packages five or six feet long, wrapped in what looked like tow cloth, and we afterward learned that these were probably muskets being sent to the northern border to be sold to the Indians.

These strangers were decked out in most fanciful costumes, with scarf-like blankets of gaudy colors thrown over their shoulders, simply by way of ornament. They could speak only a few words of English, making their wants known mostly by gestures.

They asked if they might make camp near our house. Such a request was not to be refused, for they might have done as they pleased. Father would not have had the heart to drive them away, for the prairie, even though staked out as a homestead, is free to all travelers.

ZEBA'S CURIOSITY

That evening Zeba's curiosity, like my own, was aroused by the sight of those bundles in the carts, which seemed heavy, as could be told when the Mexicans unyoked the oxen. He therefore loitered around trying to find an opportunity of learning what was inside the wrappings of tow; but before he succeeded in getting his hands on one of the packages, the Mexican drove him away with threats that I fancy would have been blood-curdling had we understood the Spanish language.

Their behavior toward Zeba, who thus far had done no more than stand idly by the side of one of the carts looking in, as a negro will when his curiosity is aroused, caused father to suspect that there was something wrong with the men, and that their approaching Fort Towson by way of the West Fork of the Trinity was not an accident, but rather done by design, that they might avoid the beaten lines of travel.

Therefore during the night that they remained in camp near us, both he and I stood guard, for while we had not heard very much concerning the troubles with Mexicans and Indians which the settlers on the western border were having, we knew the people of Mexico had no good will toward us who came from the States; although why that should have been the case I have never succeeded in learning.

POSSIBLE TREACHERY

On thinking it over, there appears to be good reason why the natives should be the enemies of those who have settled in Texas, for this republic was forcibly taken from the Mexican government at the cost of much bloodshed, and it would be strange indeed if they looked upon us in a friendly manner after that.

Even if they had not had so much territory taken from them, the Mexicans surely had good reason for unfriendliness when they remembered the battle of San Jacinto, to say nothing of the other engagements which gave independence to the republic of Texas.

Father has always held that when the Comanche Indians overran Texas in 1840, they were urged on by the Mexicans, who hoped to get back their territory, and perhaps believed that the savages would work such ruin to the republic as to make it easily conquered.

SUSPICIOUS BEHAVIOR

Under pretense of guarding against the coyotes, and preventing the cattle from straying, father and I moved here and there in the vicinity of the house during the entire night, and I took note that one or the other of those teamsters was on the alert whenever we came near them, which fact caused father's suspicions to increase rather than diminish, and we were thankful indeed when, at an early hour next morning, they took their departure.

Five or six weeks later, however, when we had fairly good proof that they were carrying muskets and, perhaps, ammunition to the Indians in order that an attack might be made on us settlers, father regretted that he had not demanded to know what the fellows had in their carts.

When I asked him what he would have done if he had discovered that they were carrying weapons, he said most emphatically that, knowing the Indians on the border were in a state of unrest, he would have taken it upon himself to stop the fellows at the point of the rifle, and would have sent me to Fort Towson, even though I might have been forced to go alone, in order to learn what disposition should be made of them.

Mother said that it was fortunate for us that we had not done any such wild thing, for if the fellows had resisted our attempts to search their carts, and resorted to weapons, then we might have come out second best, for no dependence could be put in John and Zeba in event of a downright fight, for they were more cowardly than any other slaves I had ever seen.

GYP'S FIGHT WITH A COUGAR

Gyp and I thoroughly enjoyed ourselves hunting. He was not a dog trained for game, but he had so much good sound common sense that immediately after we had treed and killed our first wildcat, he entered into the sport as if he had been always accustomed to it.

Gyp was more like a comrade than like a brute. With the game as abundant as it then was on the West Fork of the Trinity, you can be assured that he and I, after the hardest of the work had been done, and when the sheep were not needing care, had some rare sport.

It was my ambition to kill what is called a Mexican lion, or cougar. I knew there were several prowling around, having seen their tracks; once I came in full view of one when he was making a dash for a sheep and a lamb which had strayed some distance from the flock.

Gyp and I hunted, day in and day out, without success, until one morning by accident we almost stumbled over one of the fellows. In a twinkling the cougar and the dog were fighting desperately, while I ran around and around them, fearing to shoot lest I should kill Gyp, but knowing it was necessary to do something without delay.

The two were rolling and leaping about, each with his teeth fastened upon the other, as you have seen two bulldogs fight, but for the life of me I could not get a fair chance to press the muzzle of my rifle against the brute's head.

Finding Gyp was getting the worst of the battle, and forgetting the danger, I whipped out the knife which always hung at my belt. Holding it between my teeth and taking advantage of the first opportunity, I seized that villainous cougar by the neck, and held him in such a grip that he was half choked and forced to loosen his hold upon the dog. This gave Gyp the opportunity he wanted to fasten upon the animal's throat.

IN A DANGEROUS POSITION

Gyp, however, was not sufficiently strong to win the battle unaided, and I had all I could do to retain my hold upon the beast's neck, not daring for a single instant to let go with one hand in order to use the knife. Consequently there I stood, clutching the back of the cougar, while Gyp snarled and tore at his throat without doing much execution.

It was just when I said to myself I could not retain my hold many seconds longer, and the beast might turn upon me, once my grip was slackened, that father came in sight. Then, as you can fancy, the battle was speedily ended. He picked up my rifle from the ground where I had dropped it, and holding the muzzle against the brute's ear, fired with such effect that on the instant the cougar ceased to struggle.

But it was not always necessary that some other should interfere when Gyp and I were waging war against the beasts that would have done injury to the flock. We killed so many coyotes before the season had come to an end that we ceased to think of it as any very great feat, and save for the fact that we always took the wolf's hide, made no more of slaying one than we did of knocking over a jack rabbit.

HUNTING WILD HOGS

Having killed a cougar and scores upon scores of wolves, it was my desire to come across a drove of peccaries, as the wild hogs of Texas and Mexico are called. One day, when Zeba told me he had seen a drove of fifteen or twenty near the river, I set off without delay, Gyp at my heels, intending to bring back one or more that we might have a store of salt pork for the winter. Little did I dream what kind of animals I was going against!

We set off early in the morning, Gyp and I, and it seemed as if I had traveled at least seven miles before I came upon any signs of the wild hogs.

When I knew that a large number were close at hand, I began stalking them as I would a herd of deer. If I had known a little more about those vicious animals, I would have understood that at any show of enmity on my part I would bring them down upon me.

In fact, this was what I really did, although unwittingly. I supposed that such game, like others, would take to their heels at the first report of the rifle, and all I might succeed in getting would be at the first shot. Therefore I stole up toward the herd with the greatest caution, spending no less than an hour crawling through the mesquite bushes toward where I heard the little fellows grunting and squealing as they rooted among the decaying leaves for food.

No hunter could have asked for a better shot than I had. With a single ball I killed one of the peccaries, and wounded two others in such a manner that I had no doubt but that I could quickly bring them down. I began to reload the rifle, ordering Gyp to remain at my heels so he might not unduly alarm the drove. Hardly had I poured in the powder and rammed it home, when like a whirlwind all that drove of hogs charged through the mesquite bushes, and in the instant I was fleeing for my life.

Now it may seem odd that a fellow nearly thirteen years old should run away from a drove of hogs: but let me tell you that these were no ordinary animals, as my experience taught me. They were about half the size of a full-grown hog with very sharp snouts, wicked-looking tusks protruding from either side of the mouth, and long, slim legs, which told that they were fitted for a race.

TREED BY PECCARIES

It is not to be supposed I gave particular heed to those characteristics while the peccaries were charging upon me, it was afterward, when I had an opportunity of seeing the dead animals at my leisure, that I noted their size and shape.

When they came at full speed toward me, with gnashing of teeth and grunts of anger, I said to myself that I would sooner be confronted by two cougars than by such a drove, and, realizing on the instant that there was little chance for me to escape by flight, I sought refuge in a small pecan tree which stood near at hand.

It was well I moved quickly, for the foremost of the drove thrust at me viciously with his tusks, tearing off the bottom of my moccasin as I climbed up the tree and strove to take my rifle with me.