This bold raid of these Indians stirred up General Tarrant and he determined to raise about five hundred volunteers in the frontier counties, to break up a big Indian camp, under a celebrated chief, Buffalo Hump, that was known to exist on the North Canadian, and for this purpose he canvassed the frontier counties and had no trouble in having volunteers sign to go out on the expedition. He fixed the time of departure from Fort Belknap on the fourth day of July, which was most unfortunate, as the time of his canvass was in the early part of May, when during the long interim the Indians had been quiet, and had made no raids into the settlements. The volunteers who subscribed had lost interest in the matter and would not go.
I was one of twenty who subscribed to go from Ellis County, and believe I was the only one that ever started. About this time Colonel Patton had arranged to start on another surveying expedition, in conjunction with a party of surveyors, in charge of Gid Rucker, who had a contract for running the center line of a twenty-mile reserve, granted by the State to the Memphis & El Paso Railroad Company. This center line was run on the thirty-second parallel. Colonel Patton went along to locate land certificates, of which he had a great many, and was anxious to see the country up on Hubbard’s Creek in Young County. Hubbard’s Creek is a tributary of the Clear Fork of the Brazos.
When we reached Weatherford we found General Tarrant very sick, not expected to live, and he died a few days afterwards, which, of course, broke up the expedition for which I had enlisted. Colonel Patton then induced the railroad company’s surveyors to make me a proposition and pay me two dollars per day to simply go along as company, they being anxious to have a sufficient crowd to overawe any attack Indians might contemplate.
After reaching the eightieth milepost, Colonel Patton had them run down ten miles to the southern boundary of the reserve, which was done, and a most magnificent country developed. It seems Colonel Patton had requested Mr. Rucker to get a sketch of that section of the country from the General Land Office at Austin, and gave him money to pay for such sketch, and when he asked for this sketch Rucker told him that they told him at the Land Office that the whole country was vacant; that there had been no surveys recorded in that section. Colonel Patton then struck out alone, riding around and, after a few hours’ investigation, became disgusted, having found quite a number of rock piles and blazed trees, indicating that the country was not vacant and had been well surveyed over by others.
Colonel Patton then told me that he was going back home, his whole trip was a failure, that he wouldn’t stay with a crowd that had deceived him so grossly. He planned to go back by himself, but I told him he should not do so—if he was going back I would go with him. The whole party started back to the center line, where we quit work. It was now late at night, the moon shining brightly, and we were about ten miles away from water, which we needed for our horses, before we could go into camp. After riding over the high, rolling prairie on this beautiful night, some seven or eight miles, coming over a ridge we discovered a few camp fires in the bottom of Hubbard’s Creek, which, of course, were thought to be Indian fires by our party. After consultation, we decided to make a charge on them and scatter them. For this purpose we drew up in line, having altogether about twenty men, and moved on them cautiously. When within a few hundred yards of the bottoms, we were halted by a vidette picket, who from his brogue, proved to be an Irishman. This indicated to our party that the camp was of United States troops, and not Indians.
On arriving in camp we found Major Van Dorn with a troop of cavalry, on his way from Fort Phantom Hill to Camp Cooper. The major, of course, was glad to have us camp with him. During the night, Mr. Rucker learned that Colonel Patton intended going straight for the settlements, without company except myself. Major Van Dorn sent for Colonel Patton and begged him to go to Camp Cooper with him, where he would no doubt find company from there to Fort Belknap, and then again from Fort Belknap to Weatherford, all of which were dangerous routes for one or two men to travel alone, on account of Indians, but Colonel Patton wouldn’t listen to such advice, claiming the Indians would never bother him and he would have no trouble in getting back to the settlements with me.
The next morning we struck out in a straight line for the settlements, all alone, without taking any provisions, as the old man was mad with Rucker and would not ask for them, nor accept any when they were offered.
This ride to the settlements proved one of the most trying the old gentleman had ever been subjected to. It was, likewise, for me. We were without water for a day and a half, when we struck running water in the North Fork of Palo Pinto, and the second evening, late, we found a small cornfield, about three or four acres, with a board shed and a pile of ashes, indicating that this corn was made by some parties who had camped there and finally abandoned on account of Indian depredations. We then found a well-beaten path from this, leading in the direction we were traveling. About six or eight miles from there we found a house, the home of a frontier settler, with a wife and two children. All were much rejoiced at seeing us and insisted on our staying a week, which, of course, we had to decline and left the next morning, on our way home to Waxahachie, which was reached in due time. This ended my frontier visitation, determined never to go outside of the settlements again, which I never did.
Soon after reaching Waxahachie, I was induced to accept a position with a Mr. Leander Cannon at Hempstead, Austin County, who was then conducting the largest mercantile business in that section of the State. After serving about a year in the dry goods and clothing department, I was induced by Mr. Cannon to take charge of his books, which I did for about six or eight months, when he decided to sell out and offered me his business, giving me all the time I needed to pay for it, if I would enter into copartnership with one J. W. Fosgard, his former bookkeeper, who was an educated, college man, from Sweden. Fosgard was very egotistic and overbearing and I knew we could never get along, therefore, I declined Mr. Cannon’s generous offer. He sold out to Fosgard alone.
A short time after, I had an invitation to join R. P. Faddis in the purchase of the business of Young & Bush, who, at the time, had a better stock of goods than Cannon and made us a very attractive offer, giving us all the time we wanted to pay them. This offer we accepted, constituting the firm of Faddis & Graber. Faddis was the bookkeeper of Young & Bush, and was a very popular man with the trade, which was largely composed of the leading and richest planters in that section of the Brazos country, and we soon built up a profitable business, though unfortunately, for us, our country soon became involved in sectional troubles, which prevented our restocking our reduced stock of goods and finally culminated in secession and war.