A Texas Cow Boy Part 8

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 pa.s.s 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 a.s.sociated 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 s.h.i.+p 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 gla.s.s of lemonade just before leaving. Thus ended my first experience on the "trail."

CHAPTER XI.

BUYS A BOAT AND BECOMES A SAILOR.

A three days' ride brought me to Grimes' ranch where I hoped to strike a job, but the old gent' informed me that he was full handed--had more men than he really needed. But he offered me a job cutting cord wood at a dollar a cord until there should be an opening for me, which he thought would be when the branding outfit arrived from Jackson county where it had gone quite a while before.

"Cutting cord wood" sounded tough to me, but I finally agreed to try it a round or two, for I hated the idea of being "busted." Mr. Grimes was to advance me about two weeks provisions on "tick," so I concluded I couldn't lose anything--unless it was a few pounds of muscle and I had grave doubts about that, for I knew my failing when it came to dabbling in wood.

Before launching out into the wood business I borrowed a horse and struck out to hunt up old Satan so that I could ride around and find easy trees to cut down; I found him about thirty miles from Grimes'

ranch; he was fat and wild; I had to get help to put him in a corral and when I mounted him he pitched like a wolf. He had forgotten that he had ever been ridden.

The "wood camp" was three miles from the ranch in a thinly timbered bottom. I had to camp all by myself, which made it a disagreeable job.

The first day, after locating camp, was spent in building a kind of Jim Crow shanty out of rotten logs--was saving my muscle to cut cord wood.

Next morning bright and early I mounted Satan and rode around hunting some easy trees--ones that I thought would cut nicely. I marked about a dozen and went back to camp, it being noon by that time.

After dinner I lay down to take a nap until evening when it would be cooler. About five o'clock I rolled up my sleeves and waded into a small, sickly pin-oak tree and the way chips flew for half an hour was a caution. I then put in the balance of the evening cording it up--that is what I had cut. It lacked considerable of being half a cord, but I filled in a lot of rotten chunks to make it pan out fifty cents worth.

I slept sound that night for I was tired.

Bright and early next morning I shouldered my axe and struck out to tackle another sickly pin-oak tree. While spitting on my hands and figuring on how many licks it would take to down the little sapling, I spied a large c.o.o.n in a neighboring live-oak. Now catching c.o.o.ns, you all know by this time was a favorite pa.s.stime with me, so dropping the axe I went for him. By the time I got part of him cooked it was noon; and after dinner I fell asleep and dreamt happy dreams until after sundown. After supper I went turkey hunting and killed a fat gobbler.

Thus ended my third day in a wood camp.

I became tired of the cord wood business after two weeks time. It was too lonesome a work for a boy of my restless disposition. I mounted Satan one morning after devouring the last speck of grub in camp and struck out for the ranch. On my arrival there Mr. Grimes asked me how much wood I had? I told him I thought there was enough to balance my grub bill. He said all right, he would send a man up there with me next morning to measure it. I finally informed him that it wasn't in shape for measuring, with the exception of half a cord that I cut the first day, as it was scattered over a vast territory, two or three sticks in a place.

I suppose he balanced my grub bill as he has never presented it yet.

Just then I came across a factory hand, John Collier by name, who had a boat for sale. He had bought it for a pleasure boat but found he couldn't support such a useless piece of furniture. He offered it to me for forty dollars and he had paid one hundred for it. I tried to sell Satan so as to buy it, but no one would have him as a gift, as they said they would have to get their lives insured before mounting him.

I wanted the boat, but how to get her I did not know. I finally studied up a scheme: Mr. Collier wanted to buy a horse in case he sold the boat, so I began talking horse trade. Nothing but a gentle animal would suit he said. I then described one to him and asked how much he would take to-boot if the pony proved to be as I represented? "Ten dollars" said he; "she pops" continued I. So I started over to Cashe's creek to trade Horace Yeamans out of an old crippled pony that he couldn't get rid of.

He was a nice looking horse and apparently as sound as a dollar; but on trotting him around a short while he would become suddenly lame in both of his front legs.

Before starting to Cashe's creek next morning Mr. Collier told me to try and get the horse there that night as, in case we made the trade, he and Mr. Murphy would start next morning on a pleasure trip to Columbia, a town forty miles east. I a.s.sured him that I would be back by dark. You see, that was a point gained, making the trade after dark.

I succeeded in making the trade with Horace; he gave me "old gray" as he called him and fourteen dollars in money for my interest in three different brands of cattle. He afterwards sold the cattle for enough to buy a whole herd of crippled ponies.

I rode back to Grimes' ranch very slowly so as not to cause old gray to become lame.

I arrived there about sundown, but remained out in the brush until after dark.

Mr. Collier, on being notified of my arrival, came out, lantern in hand, bringing his friend Murphy along to do the judging for him. He confessed that he was a very poor judge of a spanish pony, not having been long in America. He was from "Hengland."

After examining old gray all over they both p.r.o.nounced him a model of beauty--an honor to the mustang race. You see, he was hog fat, not having been used for so long.

The trade was sealed that night and next morning Mr. Collier and Murphy, who already had a pony of his own, started on their forty mile journey.

When within five miles of Elliott's ferry on the Colorado river, which was fifteen miles from Grimes' old gray gave out entirely, so that poor Collier had to hoof it to the ferry where he secured another horse.

Now kind reader you no doubt think that a shabby trick. If so, all I can say is "such is life in the far west."

Now that I was owner of a s.h.i.+p I concluded it policy to have a partner for company if nothing more, so I persuaded a young factory hand by the name of Sheiseinhamer or some such name to go in with me in my new enterprise. He only had ten dollars to invest, therefore I held the controlling interest.

Our s.h.i.+p was schooner-rigged and would carry about three tons. Her name was "Great Eastern" but we changed it to "The Blood Hound."

I turned Satan loose to rustle for himself (I afterwards sold him to a _stranger_ for thirty dollars) and then pulled down the river for Matagorda Bay, a distance of fifteen miles.

I concluded to go to the Peninsula and buy a load of melons that trip, as there were none on Tresspalacious.

We struck the Bay just at dark; the water was terribly rough and the wind was so strong that it made the Blood Hound dip water and slide along as though it was fun. My young pard, who had never been on salt water before, having been raised in Saint Louis, turned pale behind the gills and wanted to turn back when the low streak of land behind us began to grow dim. But as I owned the controlling interest in the s.h.i.+p, I told him he would have to grin and bear it. He swore that would be his last trip and it was. He sold me his interest on the way back for eight dollars; he lost just two dollars besides his time in the speculation.

Finally we hove in sight of the light house at Salura Pa.s.s. Then we were all right for I could tell just where to head for, although I hadn't been on the Bay much since leaving there in '67. But I had learned it thoroughly before then.

It was fifteen miles across the Bay to Fred Vogg's landing, where I had concluded to land. We arrived there about midnight and next morning walked up to Mr. Vogg's house, about half a mile for breakfast. The whole family were glad to see me--for the first time in eight years.

I bought a load of melons delivered at the landing for five cents a head--or piece I should have said.

The next evening we started back home, and arrived at Grimes' just as the whistle was tooting for dinner, next day. The whole crowd of factory hands, there being about seventy-five, made a break for the boat to fill up on melons. The largest I sold at fifty cents and the smallest at twenty-five. By night I had sold entirely out and started back after another load, all by myself this time, with the exception of a dog, a stray that I had picked up.

I bought my melons at a different place this time, from a Mr. Joe Berge who lived a few miles above Mr. Vogg. I got them for two and a half cents a piece, therefore made a better "speck" than before. I struck a terrible storm on my return trip and came very near swamping.

I made my next trip to Indianola as I had four pa.s.sengers to take down, at two dollars and a half a head.