Map to illustrate the Story of Philip of Texas

Philip of Texas

A Story of Sheep Raising in Texas

BY

JAMES OTIS

NEW YORK -:- CINCINNATI -:- CHICAGO
AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY

Copyright, 1913, by
Mrs. A. L. KALER.
Copyright, 1913, in Great Britain.

PHILIP OF TEXAS.
W. P. I.

FOREWORD

The author of this series of stories for children has endeavored simply to show why and how the descendants of the early colonists fought their way through the wilderness in search of new homes. The several narratives deal with the struggles of those adventurous people who forced their way westward, ever westward, whether in hope of gain or in answer to "the call of the wild," and who, in so doing, wrote their names with their blood across this country of ours from the Ohio to the Columbia.

To excite in the hearts of the young people of this land a desire to know more regarding the building up of this great nation, and at the same time to entertain in such a manner as may stimulate to noble deeds, is the real aim of these stories. In them there is nothing of romance, but only a careful, truthful record of the part played by children in the great battles with those forces, human as well as natural, which, for so long a time, held a vast portion of this broad land against the advance of home seekers.

With the knowledge of what has been done by our own people in our own land, surely there is no reason why one should resort to fiction in order to depict scenes of heroism, daring, and sublime disregard of suffering in nearly every form.

JAMES OTIS.

CONTENTS

[PHILIP OF TEXAS]

MY DREAMS OF A SHEEP RANCH

The day I was twelve years old, father gave me twelve ewes out of his flock of seventy-two, counting these sheep as payment for the work I had done in tending them. Even at that time I thought myself a good shepherd, for I was able to keep a small flock well together.

With Gyp, our dog, I could have herded five hundred as readily as I did seventy-two, because on our plantation in Mississippi the pastures were fenced. Therefore when father began to talk of moving to Texas and there making a venture in the cattle business, I decided at once that if he did so, it should be my aim to raise sheep. With this idea I gathered from the neighbors roundabout, who had larger flocks than ours, all the possible information about the business in our own state.

[SHEEP RAISING]

A sheep in order to thrive should have not less than two acres of fairly good pasturage in which to roam. Much less than that amount of land would provide a sheep with food in case it was inclosed; but on the range, where the flock is turned out to feed over a large extent of country, the animals are inclined to "bunch," as the herders call it; that is, to keep in close company and wander here or there trampling down the grass without eating it.

A sheep will yield about five pounds of wool each year, and you can count that each animal in a herd will give you one dollar's worth of its fleece annually. Of course there is considerable expense, if one is obliged to pay for shearing, or for dipping, in case that disease known as "scab" comes among the flock. I have known a sheep raiser to pay four cents a head to the Mexican shepherds simply for dipping the flock; that is to say, for giving each animal a bath in a certain mixture in order to drive out distemper which, in sheep, is like the mange that comes upon dogs.

Then it is pretty certain that during the year there will be as many lambs born as there are sheep in the flock, and if a sheep is worth five dollars, you can reckon the lamb at three, for it will be a yearling in twelve months, and a full-grown sheep a year later. So one can say that every sheep worth five dollars will bring in a profit of four dollars each year, less the expense of keeping.

[HERDING SHEEP]

Suppose you have a flock of five hundred sheep. They will "herd," as sheepmen say, which means, keep nearly together, within a space around which a man can ordinarily walk two or three times a day, to prevent the wilder ones from straying.

When the flock is driven out on the range from the pens, they are kept moving a mile or two, while the shepherd walks around the flock, talking to them, so that they may hear his voice; the animals pick up mouthfuls of grass now and then, even while being driven.

In rainy or cold weather, sheep walk much more rapidly than they do when it is warm; therefore the shepherd has more work to do. In very hot, dry weather, they will often not feed in the daytime, but continue eating until late in the night, and then the herder has his work cut out, for those are long days from sunrise until nine or ten o'clock.

But think of the profit of five hundred sheep in one year! Suppose they cost you for herding, shearing, and dipping, in case you cannot manage the flock yourself, three hundred dollars. You get two thousand dollars for the wool and the increase in the flock, and pay out three hundred. This leaves seventeen hundred dollars clear profit in one year from five hundred sheep, and that is not a large flock.

Of course if the scab gets among the sheep, or the Indians kill many, or the wolves can't be kept away, there will be more or less loss which must come out of the seventeen hundred dollars; but take it all in all, unless one has very hard luck, it seems to me he should be able to count on at least a thousand dollars profit from five hundred sheep.

Now it might seem as if this matter of raising sheep, and the profit to be had from them, could have no influence in deciding my going from the state of Mississippi to the republic of Texas, and yet if it had not been for my hope of one day owning a big sheep ranch, I would not have been so delighted when father began to talk of making a new home in that country which had so lately separated from Mexico.

[SOMETHING ABOUT TEXAS]

One might suppose that my father was a shiftless sort of man to make a change of homes after he had a boy twelve years old; but that is not the fact, as you will understand when I tell you why we sold the plantation in Mississippi, where we were raising fairly good crops of cotton, to embark in the cattle business in Texas.

Of course, it is not necessary for me to relate that the people in Texas declared themselves independent of Mexico in the year 1836, as in 1776 the colonists determined to be free men in a free country, and so broke away from England and England's king.

No doubt you already know that it was on the twenty-second day of April in the year 1836, the day after the battle of San Jacinto, that General Houston captured the Mexican general, Santa Anna; a treaty was then made between Texas and Mexico, which allowed the Texans to become an independent nation. You are also acquainted with the troubles in Texas, when, in the year 1840, the Comanches overran the country, and you have heard of the capture of the town of San Antonio by the Mexicans in September of the year 1842.

[LAND GRANTS]

All this has little to do with what I am going to tell in regard to my going into the sheep business; yet if all those things had not happened, then President Lamar and President Houston might not have been able to make grants of land to people who were willing to come into the country and build homes.

There were a number of men who succeeded in getting so-called grants from the Texan government. Among these there was a certain Mr. Peters,—I never knew his first name,—who had obtained a grant of an exceedingly large tract of land in the northern part. It was, so father had been told, the best land in Texas; and in order to gain settlers, Mr. Peters agreed to give outright to the head of every family six hundred and forty acres of land, and to each single man three hundred and twenty acres.

Now, of course, my father was the head of a family, although mother and I were the only other members of it; nevertheless he would receive just as many acres of land as though he had a dozen children.

When the matter was first talked about among our neighbors in Mississippi, I hoped I might be counted as a single man; but I was very soon made to understand that a lad of twelve years was mistaken when he reckoned himself of sufficient age to have given him three hundred and twenty acres of land simply for going into a country and living there.

[THE "TEXAS FEVER"]

Because of this offer by Mr. Peters, the people around us, whose plantations were not particularly valuable, were highly excited, for all had heard how rich was the land in the republic of Texas, and how well it was adapted for cattle raising.

While mother and father were talking the matter over, trying to decide whether they would go into Peters's colony, I heard him tell her that already a great many people from Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, and Kentucky, as well as from our state, had gone there and had sent back the most cheering words regarding the possibility of making money in that new country.

Perhaps I should say that this grant was made to the Peters colony early in the year 1842, but it was not until the spring of the next year that father began to have what some of our neighbors laughingly called the "Texas Fever"; and I took it because of the possibilities of raising sheep.

It was just about this time that the Texans began to talk of being annexed to the United States, for their republic was not so flourishing as many would have liked to see it. The country was in debt to the amount of nearly seven million dollars, so I heard father say, and the people stood in fear of the Mexicans on the one side, who were ever ready to make trouble, and of the Indians on the other, to say nothing of the wild beasts everywhere.

Such a thinly settled country could not raise large armies to fight off their enemies, and those people who had been living for some time in Texas believed that if their republic could become a part of the United States, they would have all the soldiers that were needed to keep peace in the land.

[WHY I WANTED TO GO INTO TEXAS]

Of all this I knew very little at the time father was talking about making a new home, and I cared less, for my mind was filled entirely with the idea of one day owning a large sheep ranch. From the time I began to take care of father's flock I had heard people, lately come from Texas, declare that that was the one spot in all the wide world where sheep could be raised easily and at small cost.

There were other reasons besides this which caused me to hope that my father would decide to make a change of homes. I had heard that the ponies, which the Texans called mustangs, could be bought for from eight to twenty dollars each, and that they cost no more to keep than ordinary cows, for they did not require grain. Now, in all my life, I had never owned either horse or pony, for the only driving animals on our Mississippi plantation had been mules.

[HUNTING IN TEXAS]

I had also read that there was much good hunting in Texas, and that one need not go very far afield in order to find plenty of bears; in fact, that there were too many for the comfort of the sheep raisers. I knew also that deer were to be found in large numbers and that there were cougars, which are called Mexican lions, and panthers, together with wildcats and wolves. Fancy such a list of game as that for a fellow who was as fond of shooting as I was!

Then again, one of our neighbors who had been in Texas told me of the wild hogs, or peccaries, as they are sometimes called, that go in droves of from half a dozen to twenty or thirty, and are very fierce when stirred up.

The wolves concerned me most just then, for you know that these animals are exceedingly fond of sheep, and he who herds a flock on the range must keep his eyes wide open for those four-footed enemies. Three kinds of wolves were to be found in Texas: the black wolf which was rare, the coyote, and the lobo or gray wolf. The last two were great sheep stealers and many in number.

It seemed to me then, as it has many times since, that it would be great sport to hunt those sheep eaters and lay up a goodly stock of their pelts, for a wolf hide, when taken in the proper season, makes an excellent bed covering, whether it be in a house or on the open prairie.

From the time that father began to talk of joining Peters's colony, I spent a good portion of my time learning all that was possible concerning this republic, the people of which were eager to come into the United States. I found, as any one can who will make diligent search, the most interesting stories not only about hunting, but about the early troubles between Texas and Mexico, the Texans' fight for independence, and the many Indian raids.

[FATHER GOES TO SPY OUT THE LAND]

It seemed to me that father and mother spent a great deal of unnecessary time in discussing whether they would change their home from Mississippi to Texas. In fact I was beginning to despair of ever becoming a sheep raiser in the Peters colony, when father suddenly declared that he would go to see the country for himself, and if it was half as good as people said it was, he would lay out his claim of six hundred and forty acres and come back to sell the plantation and move the live stock.

I begged hard to be allowed to go with him, but my request was not to be granted, for although we owned two slaves, John and Zeba, neither of them could be trusted to look after the cattle, the sheep, and the mules.

Therefore it was decided that I should be the head of the family while father was away, and so proud was I over being given such a position of trust, that I failed to grieve, as I otherwise might have done, at not being allowed to go with him.

He set out with a pair of our best mules hitched to a light wagon, intending to drive to Little Rock in Arkansas, and from there to Fort Towson, after which he would make his way across what is now Grayson County, spying out the land.

[OUR PLANTATION IN MISSISSIPPI]

It was not a very long journey, although he would probably travel two or three hundred miles before turning back. We lived in Bolivar County, in Mississippi, near Indian Point, where, as you know, the Arkansas River joins with the Mississippi.

Our plantation was not well suited to cotton raising, and perhaps for this reason father was all the more willing to listen to those people who had so much to say about Texas, that one could almost believe it to be a veritable Promised Land. Father had set out to raise cattle, although our plantation was no better adapted for such a purpose, perhaps, than it was for cotton raising. We had about seventy head of oxen, and twenty mules, together with the seventy-two sheep which made up my own and my father's flocks. I did not realize that the profits from sheep raising in Texas might not be the same as in Mississippi.

I counted the days while father was away, thinking with each sunrise that I would see him again before nightfall. After he had been gone two or three weeks I was foolish enough to wander up the road now and then, hoping to meet him on his return, and be the first to hear the good news.

[FATHER COMES HOME]

He had been absent nearly six weeks, and my heart had almost grown sick with waiting, when late one night, after I had gone to bed, I heard a commotion downstairs, followed by shouts for John or Zeba, and then I recognized my father's voice.

There is little need for me to say that I tumbled, rather than ran, down the stairs, so great was my eagerness to learn the result of his visit into Texas, and even before he had had time to take me in his arms I insisted on knowing whether he had staked out his claim.

In a few words he quieted my impatience by telling me we would set off for the new country as soon as the necessary arrangements could be made. So far as the details were concerned I was willing to wait, for the matter had been settled as I hoped it would be.

Later, I learned that our new home was to be on the West Fork of the Trinity River, where, so father said, the land was better suited for cattle or sheep raising than any other he had ever seen.

As a matter of fact he was even more delighted with the prospect of going to Texas than I was, and at once mother fell in with the plan heartily. She knew he would not have been so pleased at taking up a claim, unless it seemed certain we could better our position very greatly, for he was a home-loving man, and would not have moved from our plantation had he not felt reasonably sure of making a change for the better.

He told us that people from the United States, and even from across the sea in France, were going in great numbers to Texas, and he had no doubt but that as soon as it was made one of the states of the Union, it would prosper beyond any land of which we had ever heard.

[THE BIGNESS OF TEXAS]

Then he began to tell us how large the republic of Texas was, and before he had finished I was filled with astonishment, for, without having given any great thought to the matter, I had fancied it might, perhaps, be somewhere near the size of our state of Mississippi.

He told us that Texas was much larger than the countries of Sweden and Norway together, three times the size of Great Britain and Ireland, and nearly twice as large as France. He also said that the area of all the New England and Middle States was considerably less than that of Texas.

Imagine such an extent of territory open to new settlers! A republic nearly eight times as large as the state of New York, nine times as large as the state of Ohio, and six times as large as all New England put together!

There was no longer any surprise in my mind that the people who made up the government of Texas would be willing to give six hundred and forty acres to every man with a family who would settle there, when, within their boundaries, they had more than two hundred million acres.

[WHERE WE WERE GOING]

Talk of sheep raising, and giving two acres to each sheep! If, before father went away, I had been eager to own a sheep ranch in Texas, then certainly I was nearly wild with the idea after he returned, for from his stories I began to understand that one could own thousands upon thousands, and yet find ample room to feed them all.

We were not going, so it seemed, into the best portion of the republic for sheep raising, but rather into the northern part, while the finest grazing lands were on the western side, or in that oddly shaped piece which is called the "Panhandle."

However, I was well satisfied if we could not have the best of the sheep-raising business, if only we might embark in it anywhere.

Again I was contented because we were going into the northern part, rather than to the westward, owing to the stories father told of an enormous colony of Frenchmen which was being brought over the sea by a gentleman whose name was Castro. Mr. Henry Castro was a very wealthy Frenchman, who had been appointed by the Texan government as Consul General to France. Having been given a grant of land by the government, he agreed to bring over a large number of people from his native country, paying all their expenses of traveling, and lending each man sufficient money to set himself up as a ranchman. Already, it was said, he had seven hundred people on seven different ships which he had hired at his own cost, and these colonists would soon be set down in Texas to make their way as best they might with his assistance.

[WHAT I HOPED TO DO]

I was only twelve years old, and already owned twelve ewes. Now I well knew from what I had heard sheep raisers say, that if I attended to my little flock properly, and if they met with no accident, it would be nothing marvelous if, at the end of nine years, when I should be twenty-one, my flock had increased to five thousand, or even more.

Father had hardly finished telling mother and me of what he had seen during his journey, before we began to make preparations for moving. Surely it seemed to me we were likely to have good luck, for within eight and forty hours after he returned, a man came up from Baton Rouge to buy our plantation, having heard that father was suffering with the Texas fever. Within two hours after he showed his willingness to buy our land the bargain was made, a fairly large portion of the money paid over, and mother and I knew that within twenty days we should leave the home where I was born.

[CATTLE DRIVING]

Perhaps my heart grew just a bit faint when I learned that it would be necessary to drive all our cattle and sheep from Bolivar County into Texas, and that I was expected to do a large share of the work. Father thought that John, Zeba, and I should be able to keep the cattle on the road, for we were to follow the highway the entire distance, and he intended to hire three slaves from our neighbors to drive the mules which would haul all our household belongings.

There was no question in my mind but that we would get along easily with the oxen and the cows. Father decided to harness most of the mules to three wagons, so they could be handled by the hired negroes; but the question of how we would be able to get the sheep along worried me much. Whoever has had charge of such animals knows well that it is not a simple task to drive them over a strange country, however quiet they may have been on feeding grounds with which they are acquainted.

But no good could come from my worrying as to how we might get into Texas. I would soon know by experience. In fact, I had little time to concern myself about anything whatsoever save the work on hand, because in order to be ready to leave the plantation within twenty days, all of us found plenty with which to occupy our hands.

It really seemed to me as if Gyp knew exactly what we were planning to do, for he walked around at my heels day after day, with his tail hanging between his legs, as though ashamed that he was about to leave the United States for a new country, where he would see a flag which bore but a single star.

[HOW WE SET OUT]

There was so much bustle and confusion on the plantation during the short time left to us that I hardly remember how we made ready; but I do know that we were finally prepared for the journey, and that John and Zeba set off with the cattle twenty-four hours before father, mother, and I left home, in order that the creatures might become somewhat accustomed to traveling by the time we overtook them.

We had three wagons covered with heavy cloth, each drawn by six mules, and loaded with all our provisions, clothing, and such farming tools as we wanted to take with us.

The other two mules were harnessed to the wagon in which father had made the journey to Texas, and in this mother was to travel, father riding with her when he was not needed elsewhere.

My mother was a good horsewoman, and the handling of two, or even four, mules would not have troubled her in the slightest. Therefore she said to me laughingly when Gyp and I had gathered the sheep into one corner of the stable yard, ready to set off just behind the mule teams, that her part of the journey would be much like a pleasure trip, while to my share must come a goodly portion of dust and toil.

Father had hired from one of the neighbors three of his best negroes, who were to drive the mule teams, and who could be trusted to come back alone from Texas as soon as their work had been finished.

So it was that we had in our party two grown white people, one boy, five negroes, and Gyp. I am counting the dog as a member of the company, for before we arrived at the West Fork of the Trinity River he showed himself to be of quite as much importance, and of even more service, than either the white or the colored men.

[A LABORIOUS JOURNEY]

John and Zeba managed to get along with the cattle very well; but the drivers of the mule teams were not so skillful in handling the animals as father had expected, and the result was that he found it necessary to take the place of one or the other nearly all the time, thus leaving mother alone.

Sometimes I led the procession; at other times I trudged on in the rear where the dust was thickest, running first on one side of the road and then on the other, to keep the sheep from straying, and succeeded in holding them to the true course only by the aid of my dog, who had more sound common sense in that shaggy body of his than the brightest lad I have ever come across. Gyp was a willing worker, and a cheery companion at all times. He would run here and there regardless of the heat, and when the sheep were partly straightened up as they should be, come back panting, his red tongue lolling out, and looking up at me with a world of love in his big brown eyes, as if to ask why I was so solemn, or why I could not find, as he did, some sport in thus driving a flock of silly sheep to Texas.

During the journey we halted wherever night over-took us, sometimes camping in the open and finding our beds in one of the wagons, or again herding our cattle in the stable yard of a tavern.

As for food, we got it as best we could. When fortune favored us and we came upon a tavern, we had enough to satisfy our hunger, and in very many places as good as we could have had at the old home in Bolivar County. At other times we ate from the store of provisions we carried, cooking the food by the roadside, while the sheep and the cattle, too tired to stray very far after so many miles of plodding, fed eagerly on whatever grass they were lucky enough to find.

Gyp was my bedfellow, whether I slept in one of the wagons or at a tavern, and before we had crossed the Red River I found myself treating him as I would have treated a lad of my own age, and time and time again I thought to myself that he understood all I said to him.

[COMANCHE INDIANS]

Before we left the old home I firmly believed we would meet with strange adventures on our long journey, and each morning when we set out, I driving the sheep, with Gyp running to and fro to make certain my work was done properly, I felt convinced that before night came something out of the ordinary would take place. Yet until we came near to Fort Towson I saw nothing more strange or entertaining than I might have seen on the banks of the Mississippi River, but when we were within two miles or more of the fort, and the sheep and I were leading the way, we suddenly came upon a band of seven Comanche Indians, the first of the tribe I had ever seen. They were all mounted, no one of them wearing more clothing than the breech-cloth around his waist, and at least two of them armed with what I believed to be serviceable rifles.

It was as if the fellows had come up out of the very ground, so suddenly did they appear. Although I could not have understood their language if any attempt had been made to open a conversation, it was plain to me that they intended to take possession of my sheep as well as of those belonging to father, while I did not doubt but that they would make quick work of me.

[FATHER COMES TO MY RESCUE]

It is more than likely that all my fears might have been realized had the remainder of our party been very far in the rear, for I believe the savages thought I was alone on the road, driving the flock to Fort Towson where it could be slaughtered; but at the very moment when two of the most villainous of the party dismounted and came toward me with their rifles in hand, father and mother drove up in the two-mule team.

Immediately the savages drew back until they had regained their horses, which were being held meanwhile by the other members of the party.

Father was out of the wagon in a twinkling, with a pistol in each hand and coming rapidly toward me, shouting for those in the rear to hurry on, as if he had a large company at his back.

The Indians did not wait to learn how strong we were in numbers, and more than likely they saw the cloud of dust in the distance which told of the coming of the cattle and the loaded wagons; perhaps they believed it was raised by a troop of men, for without parley, and before one could have counted ten, they had wheeled about and were riding at their best pace in the opposite direction.

So great was my relief of mind that I felt inclined to make light of the adventure, but was straightway sobered when father said gravely:—

"There is much to be feared from those rascally Comanches. The only reason I have not already cautioned you often and very strongly is because I feared to alarm your mother. Do not take any chances if, when you are alone, you come upon such as those who have just fled, but seek safety in flight if possible. If you cannot escape, make ready for a desperate defense, and even when you are on our claim, have your weapons always ready for use."

So intent had I been in planning what might be done in raising sheep, that the possibility of having trouble with the Indians never came into my mind; but now that father had spoken as he did, I knew that beyond a doubt there was good reason for caution, if not for alarm.

Straightway my thoughts went out into the future, as I asked myself how it would be possible, while herding sheep, to defend myself, for I well understood that only Gyp and I could be spared to play the part of shepherds. All the others would be attending to the regular work of the ranch, and could not be expected to give heed to me.

[THE ARRIVAL AT FORT TOWSON]

I was still turning this unpleasant prospect over in my mind when we arrived at Fort Towson, and then I began to believe the country of Texas was not all I had fancied. It was only reasonable for a lad like me to expect that at this fort I would find something which resembled a fortification, and yet, so far as could be judged from the outside, it was no more than the ordinary buildings of a ranchman, except that walls of sun-dried bricks connected the several structures, forming a square. On the side facing the south were two heavy gates of logs, which now swung wide open, but it was plain to be seen that they could be closed quickly if need arose.

There were in charge of this ranchlike fort no more than six or seven men, and of these, two were Mexicans, while all wore the same gaudy costumes that may be seen in every Spanish settlement.

[PREPARING FOR A STORM]

It was yet early in the afternoon when we came to this halting place. We had no reason to complain of our reception, for the man who appeared to be the leader of the company came out even before we were ready to enter the inclosure, and said, while John and Zeba were driving the cattle to what seemed good pasturage, that it would be better for us if we herded the stock inside the fort.

This caused me some surprise, for since early morning the air had been so calm that a feather would not have been blown from a tree top, and the weather was warm and sultry, giving promise of discomfort if one were shut within the four walls of the fort.

I fancy even father was astonished because the man invited us inside when it was almost suffocatingly hot on the open prairie. Seeing that we hesitated, the leader of the small garrison pointed toward the west, where could be seen a few low-hanging, sluggish clouds drifting slowly here and there, while at the same time I thought I saw a yellow smudge low down on the northern horizon.

"It's a norther," the man said as if believing he had explained matters sufficiently. When father still hesitated, he added, "Your cattle will be stampeded when the wind comes, unless you have them corralled, and there is not time for you to get the wagons in position."

I did not understand even then, for I had never been told anything whatsoever regarding these strange storms which are called "northers" by Texans, but I noticed that father ran at full speed to give orders for John and Zeba to turn the cattle into the fort, and as he went he shouted for me to herd the sheep within the inclosure.

The man who had bidden us welcome aided me in the task, and more than that, for when the sheep were snugly inside, he ran back to tell the drivers of the wagons to get their mules unhooked and in a safe place before the wind came.

[A DRY "NORTHER"]

We were hardly more than thus housed before a distant roaring could be heard, not unlike thunder, and in a short time the wind was upon us in a perfect hurricane, cold as icy water.

At one instant the perspiration had been running down my face because of the exertion of hurrying the sheep and mules into the fort, and in the next I felt as if I had taken a plunge into a bank of snow.

My teeth chattered as I followed the Mexicans, who were running into one of the buildings, and I noticed, as I went at full speed, that the mules and the cattle had turned tail to the storm of wind, standing with lowered heads, as such beasts are wont to do during a tempest.

There was no rain, but a sort of mist hung in the air, which soon gave way to a blue haze, and I fancied it had a peculiar odor, like the smoke from burning straw. I paid no great attention to it at the time, however, so eager was I to come to the heat of the fire, which had been speedily built in that hut to which the Mexicans fled for refuge.

It was while I stood there striving to get some comfort from the cheery blaze, that the leader of the company came into the room. Joining me at the fireplace, and knowing of course by this time that I was having my first experience with a Texan "norther," he explained to me the peculiarity of these storms, which, as I found out later, are frequent in these regions.

[TWO KINDS OF "NORTHERS"]

The Texans divide the storms into what they call a wet, and a dry, norther.

Wet northers are those which bring rain or sleet, and usually last twelve or fourteen hours without doing any particular damage, ending with a mild north or northwest wind. But the stock is likely to suffer from the storms, because of being wet with the sleet or rain, and then thoroughly chilled by that ice-cold wind.

The dry norther I have already told about. Our host explained to me that it might continue fiercely for from twenty-four to forty-eight hours, then gradually die away in from twelve to eighteen hours, during all of which time that penetrating cold would continue.

I soon came to understand that the man had told no more than the truth, for father said, when he finally came where I was, that we should probably have to remain penned up in Fort Towson two or three days, and advised me to make myself as comfortable as possible, for we were welcome to the use of any of the buildings.

The only way in which I could follow this advice was to hug the fire as closely as possible, for whenever I moved a short distance away, that chilling air would envelop me as if with a mantle of ice, and I thought to myself more than once, that if I were to be caught out on the prairie herding a flock of sheep when one of these northers came up, I might freeze to death.

I did, however, venture away from the heat long enough to make certain that my mother was comfortable. There were two other women in the fort, one a Mexican who appeared to be a sort of servant, and the other the wife of that man who had extended to us the hospitality of the place. With these two my mother remained nearly forty hours, when the wind subsided and the air grew balmy once more.

I remained the greater portion of that time in the hut where I first sought refuge. The hours were not wasted, for I had a strong desire to learn something regarding this country in which we were to make our new home.

[HOW TURKEYS KILL RATTLESNAKES]

One of the Mexicans was a most talkative kind of person, and seeing that I was a tenderfoot from the cotton country, who had never before ventured away from home, undertook to amuse me by telling stories, some of which I believed to be true, while others appeared extremely doubtful.

When he made the statement that wild turkeys killed rattlesnakes, I set it down that he was drawing the long bow for my especial benefit; but before I had lived in Texas six months I saw it done, and truly it was interesting.

He said that he had seen, more than once, twelve or fifteen big gobblers dancing around in a circle, as if they were fighting. They gave no attention to him when he crept up quite near to them, and there saw in the midst of this circle a large rattlesnake, actually struggling for his life.

The gobblers, one after the other, as if it had all been arranged beforehand, would spring high into the air and come down upon the snake, taking care not to get too near his head, and would strike him with one of their wings such a blow that the noise could be heard some distance away. Near by, as if they had no interest in what was going on, a flock of turkey hens might be feeding.

As I have said, at that time I set it down as a fable, but more than once since then I have witnessed almost exactly such a fight, and never have I failed to see the rattlesnake killed.

[DEER AND RATTLESNAKES]

Another way of killing rattlesnakes, which the Mexican told about, was employed by deer, which, as we all know, will attack a snake whenever they come across one. He said that whenever a rattlesnake sees a deer coming, he seems to have a pretty good idea of what is in store for him, and at once loses courage.

The snake coils himself up tightly, hiding his head beneath his body, as if understanding that it is of no use to struggle, and that he might better submit to martyrdom.

The deer jumps up into the air, bringing all four feet together, and comes down with his sharp hoofs upon the coiled snake, cutting and mangling him until there is no longer any life in his long body. I have never seen anything of the kind; but father says that he has heard of such killings again and again, and has no doubt whatsoever as to the truth of the story.

Before the storm cleared away, but when the wind had so far subsided that one might venture out without fear of freezing to death, a big wagon train came up toward the fort, evidently expecting to pass the night there. Then for the first time I saw those people who freight goods from the Missouri River down into Texas and Mexico form with their wagons what they call a corral. It was to me something well worth watching, even though I might have been more comfortable inside the building in front of a blazing fire.

[MAKING A CORRAL OF WAGONS]

The train was made up of heavy wagons, each drawn by four yoke of cattle. When the first came up in front of the fort, the driver turned his team at an angle with the trail, bringing the oxen away from the fort and the rear end of the wagon toward it.

The second wagon was wheeled around within a short distance of the first, the intention of the teamsters being to halt the heavy carts in such positions that when all had arrived a circle would be formed, within which the cattle could be kept. On that side nearest the fort a passage between two of the wagons, five or six feet in width, was left open through which the oxen could be driven after they had been unyoked.

As soon as the cattle had been taken to where they might feed, heavy ropes were stretched across the opening, so that the four mules which had been driven by the owners of the train were actually fenced in, and there was no need either to hobble or to make them fast with a picket line, for they could not make their way out between the wagons.

It was all done in a way which showed that these people had been accustomed to making camp quickly so that they would have a place where they might corral the stock, and stand some chance of defending themselves against Indians.

It was this precaution on the part of the teamsters which gave me yet more reason than I had on meeting the Comanches to understand that in this country there were many chances that we might be called upon to battle for our lives.

One of the drivers told me that, on the march, when a norther springs up, they always make a corral in this fashion, forming it sufficiently large to herd all the cattle within the circle. If they are not sharply looked after, the animals will take to their heels as if frightened out of their wits. Therefore people who are accustomed to such sudden changes in the weather are ever on the lookout lest their cattle be left where they may not readily be bunched. Oxen will become wilder through fear of a norther than they can be made through the shrieking and yelling of Indians who are trying to stampede them.

[ON THE TRAIL ONCE MORE]

On the second morning after our arrival at Fort Towson we set off once more, father and mother leading the way in the small mule cart, and I following behind the three wagons, while John and Zeba brought up the rear with the cattle, which, having had a welcome rest at the fort, were now traveling at a reasonably rapid pace, so fast, in fact, that Gyp and I had to urge the sheep along at their best speed lest we be overrun.

At the end of the first day's journey father told me that we had crossed over the border line of the republic, and were then in Texas. This was pleasing news, because the long journey had become decidedly wearisome.

[MESQUITE]

During the day we had been traveling over rolling land, which was covered with rich grass and looked not unlike what I have heard about the ocean, for we climbed over billow after billow and saw the same sea of undulating green stretched out before us, with here and there a small clump of oak or pecan trees, or thickets of mesquite.

Mesquite, of which there is so much in Texas, sometimes grows to the height of thirty or forty feet, but as a rule it is found as bushes no more than five or six feet high. It bears a pod something like a bean, which, before ripening is soft and exceedingly sweet, and so very pleasant to the taste that white people as well as Indians gather it as fruit. The wood of the mesquite, which may be found reasonably large in size, and which is of a brown or red color when polished, but exceedingly hard to work, is valuable for the underpinnings of houses, for fence posts, and even for furniture.

The next morning after we had crossed the Texas line we came upon the very thing in which I had the greatest interest, a sheep ranch, and I urged father to halt there for an hour or more that I might see how the animals were cared for here in this country, as compared with our manner of feeding and housing them in Mississippi.

[A TEXAS SHEEP RANCH]

Save for the house in which the shepherds live, I saw very little in the way of buildings for sheltering the stock. There were immediately around the dwelling (which, by the way was made partly of sun-dried brick and partly of mesquite wood) twenty or thirty small sheep pens, with cribs inside formed of rails loosely laid together, the whole looking as if some indolent person had decided to start in the sheep-raising business with as little labor as possible.

The only person we could see on the ranch was a man who acted as cook. Fortunately for me, he appeared more than willing to answer the many questions I was eager to ask. In the first place, he told me, as others had, that the northern part of Texas was not adapted to sheep raising in comparison with the western, or the panhandle, section, but that the owners of the ranch were making a very profitable business out of it just at that time.

They had four herders for about five thousand sheep. Each herder had a dog, and with his dog he remained out on the range month after month, being allowed so many lambs or sheep every thirty days for his own food. The two were supplied by the cook with the other things they might need, such as flour, a bit of bacon, and salt. The wages paid at that time were only twenty dollars a month.

[THE PROFITS FROM SHEEP RAISING]

The cook had some marvelous stories to tell of the money that might be made in Texas by sheep raising, and among them was this:—

A man for whom he worked had a flock of fifteen hundred sheep, which he let out to a herder on shares. He gave the herder one quarter of the wool, and one quarter of the increase in lambs; he also furnished the salt, the sheep dip, and, of course, the herder's food. Here are the figures which the cook showed me set down in a greasy pocket book of his, and which he declared were absolutely true. The owner received for the wool, after the herder had taken his share, eight hundred dollars; the increase in lambs was eight hundred, which at even a dollar and a half amounted to twelve hundred dollars. Of this last one fourth went to the herder, leaving nine hundred dollars for the increase. Thus the owner of the sheep received as a net profit from a flock of only fifteen hundred sheep seventeen hundred dollars, which is almost as well as he could have done in Mississippi.

Even though I had not been bent on sheep raising before we entered Texas, that story alone would have been sufficient to excite my desire to engage in it. It is true my twelve sheep would make a sorry showing by the side of fifteen hundred, but yet I was only twelve years old, and, as I had said to myself again and again, fortune must go against me exceedingly hard if by the time I had come to manhood I could not show more than fifteen hundred, even though the beginning had been so small.

[FATHER'S LAND CLAIM]

After seeing that sheep ranch and hearing the stories told of the money that might be made in the business, I was more eager than ever to come to that claim which father had staked out, so I might get my share of the flock in good condition while we were building our home, and there was no portion of the journey that seemed so long and so wearisome to me as the eight and forty hours after we left the ranch. Then we came to the location of our new home, and had it not been for that experience with the dry norther, I would have said that in such a spot a lad might live until he was gray-headed, with never a desire to leave.

[SPANISH MEASUREMENTS]

The claim was located, as I have said, on the West Fork of the Trinity River, but it must not be supposed that our land ran any very great distance along the stream, for the laws of Texas regarding the taking up of a homestead claim prohibited a man from occupying on the river bank more than a certain distance, that is to say, he could have one Spanish vara to each acre in a survey of three hundred and twenty acres, and three fourths of a vara per acre for all other surveys.

You may be certain my father had taken all the land adjoining the stream which the law allowed him, and I was well pleased that we had such a large share of river frontage.

I was wholly ignorant about Spanish measurements at the time we arrived, but since then I have fixed the tables in my head fairly well. A vara is a little over thirty-three inches; a labor is about one hundred and seventy-seven acres. Of course we reckoned our boundaries in American measurements, but in all our relations with the Mexicans it was necessary to know of what we were speaking.

[THE CHAPARRAL COCK]

Father's claim was in a valley where was a large motte, or grove, of pecan trees. As we came up to the place a bird called a chaparral cock looked down on me with what I fancied was a note of welcome. It seemed to me a happy omen that the little fellow should have uttered his cry at the very moment my eyes rested upon him.

His head was cocked on one side, and his black, beady eyes twinkled in a most kindly fashion, so that I hailed him as a friend and vowed that neither he nor any of his family should come to harm through me unless it might be that we were sorely pressed for food. But it did not appear to me probable we should ever be put to such straits as that of killing a bird who thus made us welcome.

Father had already decided upon the location of the house, which was to be just south of the pecan trees, which would shelter us from those icy northers. The three wagons and the two-mule cart were therefore drawn up side by side at the very spot where he intended to build the dwelling, so that we might use them for lodgings until we had a better place.

[OUR FIRST NIGHT ON THE TRINITY]

The live stock were turned out that night to wander as they would. We had no fear of their straying, for since leaving Fort Towson all the animals had been pushed forward at their best pace, and every one was sufficiently weary to remain near at hand.

Before darkness had come we learned that the little chaparral cock was not the only neighbor we were to have in our new home, for there came from the distance what sounded like screams of pain, and sharp, yelping barks. The hair stood up on Gyp's back, and he bared his teeth as if ready for a most desperate struggle, while I took good care to keep him close beside me as I tumbled into the two-mule cart for my rifle, not knowing what danger threatened us.

Then father laughed heartily and told me that the dismal, blood-curdling noises which I heard came from a pack of coyotes, or wolves, howling, perhaps in expectation of getting supper. He predicted that we would soon become accustomed to such disagreeable noises, for there was little doubt but that these beasts would remain our neighbors until we could kill them off, or, at least, make them afraid of venturing near our clearing.

A large part of the goods was thrown out of the wagons that we might spread our beds in comfort, for it was expected that we should live under the canvas coverings until we had built our house; the first work necessary was the setting up of some kind of shanty to serve as a cook room.

That night, however, a fire was built in the open, and over it mother prepared the evening meal while father and I milked the cows. With smoking hot corn bread, fried bacon, bacon fat in which to dip the bread, and plenty of fresh milk, we had such a meal as tired emigrants could fully appreciate.

[STANDING GUARD]

If I imagined that all of us were to lie down in the wagons and take our rest on this first night after arriving at the Trinity, I was very much mistaken. Father made me forget all about sleep and rest, when he said that unless we kept sharp watch against the coyotes we were likely to lose several sheep before morning, and that it was necessary that at least two of us stand guard throughout the night.

If only the oxen or the mules had been in danger, perhaps I would not have been so eager to shoulder my rifle and, in company with Zeba, tramp around and around the animals until midnight. As it was, however, I did my duty faithfully, and when the night was half spent, father came out with John to relieve us. I was so weary that when I crawled into one of the wagons on to the soft feather bed, it seemed to me as if my legs would drop from my body, and my eyes were so heavy with slumber that it was only by the greatest exertion I could keep them open.

When next I was conscious of my surroundings, the rising sun was sending long yellow shafts of light beneath the canvas covering of the wagon; the little chaparral cock was calling out from the pecan motte near at hand, as if to assure me he still stood my friend; while far away could be heard the shrieks, yelps, and barks of the cowardly wolves which had been sneaking around our flock of sheep all night.

[A TURKEY BUZZARD]

I came out of the wagon with a bound, determined that from this on until I had my flock of five thousand sheep, there should be no dallying on my part.

As I started toward the stream for a morning bath, a big black shadow came between me and the sun. Looking up, I saw for the first time a turkey buzzard, his black coat and red crest showing vividly against the sky as he flapped lazily in front of me to alight in the near vicinity of the chaparral cock. I was so superstitious as to believe for the moment that the sudden appearance of this disagreeable-looking bird at the very moment when the little cock was bidding me good morning, threatened disaster to our scheme of making a home and to my plan of raising sheep.

With the air fresh and bracing, the sunlight flooding everything with gold, and even with the dismal shrieks and yelps in the distance, it would have been a pretty poor kind of fellow who could have remained long disheartened, simply because a grumbling old turkey buzzard chanced to fly in front of him.

The stream by the side of which I hoped to live for many a long year was not deep at this season, but clear as crystal, and just cool enough to give me the sensation of being keenly alive when I plunged in head foremost. I floundered about until I heard mother calling for me to hurry while the corn bread was hot, lest I lose my share, for both she and father were ravenously hungry.

While we ate we decided where the cook camp should be put up and how we would care for the cattle, the sheep, and the mules while we were building our house. In fact, very many plans were laid during those ten or fifteen minutes, some of which were carried out at once.

[PLANS FOR BUILDING A HOUSE]

As for the cook shanty, we were not inclined to spend very much time over it. Simply a shelter from the dew and the sun, where mother might be screened from the wind, so she could use the cookstove we had brought with us, was all we needed.

Father intended to build a house of lumber, even though at that time he knew that he would be forced to pay anywhere from twenty to thirty dollars a thousand feet for cheap boards, and then haul them no less than two hundred miles.

After he had told me about the lumber I asked in wonder and surprise if he counted on spending so much money, when we might build a house as the Mexicans do, of adobe brick, with no more timber in it than would serve to hold up a roof of mud. He laughingly replied that when we had made a saw pit, he would show me how we might get out our own building material, and said that I was to have a hand in the manufacture, for he thought I could do my share of the sawing when I was not looking after the cattle or the sheep.

Before leaving home he had made arrangements to keep with us the three negroes whom we had hired in Bolivar County, until we were fairly settled. Therefore we had seven pairs of hands in this house building, which should put the work along in reasonably rapid fashion, even though five of the laborers were not skilled.

We spent no more time at breakfast than was necessary for eating and for roughly sketching out the plans for the day's work. After this each set about his task. I drove the sheep a short distance away toward the farther end of the valley, where they could conveniently get at the water and yet find rich pasturage; John and Zeba picketed out the mules; and father with the three negroes rounded up the cattle.