“Well, we drove ’em up on the mesa and let ’em graze. A feller and me took first guard that night. The herd settled down pretty soon, but I couldn’t get that stampede tale out of my mind; every time a cow moved I thought something was going to happen. It was a mixed herd, and they lay as quiet as a bunch of dead sheep. It got so quiet that I could hear my pardner’s saddle creak, away off to one side. The moon set, and it got darker. Just about then something passed me. It looked like a man on a horse, but it just seemed to float along. Then there was a roar, and the whole bunch stampeded straight for the bluffs. I rode in front of one critter like, and he jest passed right on, jest kinder floatin’ past me. Then some old cow bellered and we milled ’em easy—but they wouldn’t bed down again that night and it took every derned one of us to hold ’em.”
There are some who say that the phantoms of this legend are tumble weeds, blown by the wind. But there are many honest men who will tell you of the weird calls of the phantom nester and of the galloping phantom steers. Knowing the story, you cannot look at the mesa, branded by the white scar of the old trail, without a strange emotion.
THE WOMAN OF THE WESTERN STAR: A LEGEND OF THE RANGERS
By Adele B. Looscan
(With apologies to the memory of Judge Hugh Duffy.)
Judge Hugh C. Duffy, to whom I am indebted for this legend, was identified with the interests of Bandera County for fifty-four [[116]]years. As host of the Duffy Hotel, his genial gifts made friends of all who shared his hospitality. His acquaintance with the rangers enabled him to gather from them and others a rare collection of tales, which he related with convincing accuracy of detail. The Pioneer History of Bandera County, by J. Marvin Hunter, contains an appreciative sketch of his life and a tribute to his many fine qualities.
I tell the tale now as it was told to me, when the moon was full and shone on a merry group of friends seated on the ground, in the neighborhood of Polly’s Peak. The narrator began with these words: “It was on just such a night as this.” Then followed the legend in the time-honored style sacred to legendary lore, impossible for me to imitate.
A more charming landscape cannot be found than the hills and dales of Bandera County. The Indians loved this country, and every year resorted thither, to fish in the waters of the Medina and to hunt deer and turkeys on the mountains. But their intentions were not always so peaceful, and Texas Rangers were not infrequently called upon to protect the few white settlers who were bold enough to call this region home.