A good story is told of this bold frontiersman, who had made himself notorious, and given his character the bend sinister, by frequent depredations on both sides the boundary line between Texas and the United States. The old fellow had migrated thither from parts unknown, years since, knew every foot of country for fifty miles on either side in his vicinity, and had communication by runners with many “birds of the same feather,” then common in the region.
The old fellow saw, with sorrow and regret, the rapid influx of population within the last ten years, and was compelled gradually to narrow his sphere of usefulness; for, said he:
“People’s a gittin’ too thick about me—tha and their varmints and critters is fillin’ up the woods and spilin’ the huntin’—and then tha ain’t no chance for a fellar to speculate upon travellers as tha used to be when tha wan’t anybody to watch a fellar. Why, tha is getten to be so civylizated that a fellar can’t drink a barrel of double-rectified ’thout havin’ ’em all abusin’ him about it—and then ef he do as happen jist by accident to drap half an ounce of lead into a feller, why tha is all up in arms about it. Now t’other day, when I wanted to mark Joe Sliteses’ ears like tha marks their hogs, ’case he called me a vill-yan, they wanted to jewdicate me afore the court. But, ’cuse ’em for a set of fools, they ain’t a-gwoin’ to fool ‘Old Singletire,’ ef he is a-gitten old, and ain’t as quick on the trigger as he used to was.
“Dang their skins, I don’t care ef tha does annexate Texas! I’ll show ’em somethin’—tho’ tha thinks tha is got me slick when tha git the two countries wedged up into one—but I’ll fix ’em; I’ll quit, and go to Arkansaw, whar a decent white man kin live ’thout bein’ pestered, and ’bused and jewdicated!”
“Old Single,” as he was called, for short, had several years previous to the late discussion of the annexation question, with singular ’cuteness ascertained the precise line dividing the two territories, and built his cabin thereon in such a position, that, when lying down, he slept, one half in the United States, and the other half in Texas, for he lay at right angles with the line.
The authorities of both sides had frequently found him in that position, but as their separate claims lay severally on the entire individual, they were not content to arrest one half of him at a time. A great deal of courtesy was at times exhibited by the officers, each pressing the other to break the forms of international law by pulling Old Single bodily over either side of the line. Each was up to trap, and feared the other wished to trick him, and declined the effort which might cause a rupture between Texas and the Union.
On one occasion they were exceedingly pressing on the subject, at first politely so, then teasing each other, and then daring by taunt, and jeer, and jibe, until they worked themselves into such furious excitement, that “Old Single,” their pretended victim, had to command and preserve the peace.
“Gentle-men,” said he, “you may fun, and fret, and quarrel jist as much as you please in my house—but when tha is any lickin’ to be done ’bout these diggins, why “Old Single” is thar sure!—so look out boys, ef you strikes you dies. Show your sense, make friends, and let’s liker. You,” nodding to one, “hand me a gourd of water; and You,” to another, “pass that bottle, and I’ll drink to your better ’quaintance.”
The day passed, “Old Single” crosses the line, and one of the beauties on each side his cot, all going it like forty at twenty-deck poker—a sociable game, as Sol. Smith says—and, as remarked our informant, “the old man was a perfect Cumanche horse at any game whar tha was curds.”
For the last three months “Old Single” had been mightily distressed—“mighty oneasy ’bout annexation”—for he knew he would be compelled to travel. Well, the news of the action of Texas on this great question was received in “Old Single’s” vicinity on the 29th of June—the day it reached Fort Jessup.