Where they put a trail boss in jail

MADE SEVERAL TRIPS

I was born in Blanco county, August 10, 1855, nine miles west of Round Mountain. My first trip up the trail to Kansas was in 1872, when I went with a herd from Cedar Creek, belonging to Monkson. I brought the horses and wagon back to Cedar Creek. Next trip I went with J. R. Blocker to Pine Bluffs, Wyoming, in 1877. We turned this herd over to Jim Taylor. The third trip I made with Col. Ike T. Pryor's herd to Dodge City, Kansas, in 1882. In 1886 I took a herd for Crosby & Gallagher from Mason, Texas, to the western part of Colorado. In 1887 M. B. McKnight, myself and others

took a herd to Vernon, Texas, and sold them. I have worked with cattle since I reached the age of nine years, up to 1911, when I purchased a store at Click, 18 miles southeast of Llano, and besides being engaged in the mercantile business I am also the village postmaster.

RELATES INCIDENTS OF MANY DRIVES

[photo omitted — WILLIAM B. SLAUGHTER]

My parents, Sarah Jane and Rev. George Webb Slaughter, a Baptist minister, came from Alabama in 1830, crossed the Sabine River, settling in what was then

Mexican Territory, Coahuila, now Texas. The Mexican government at that time was enforcing in such tyrannous manner the regulations of adherence to the Catholic church that armed resistance was made by the settlers and my father, then a young man, joined in the resistance. He was closely connected, with the Independence of Texas from that time on, a full account of which is recorded in John Henry Brown's "History of Texas."

My parents moved from Sabine county to Freestone county in 1850 and settled near the old town of Butler, at which place I was born in 1852. In 1857 my father moved to Palo Pinto county and engaged in the cattle business. In 1861 he moved part of his cattle into Young county, Texas, and during the Civil War furnished the Tonkaway Indians with beef under a contract with the Confederate government. An older brother, J. B. Slaughter, now of Post, Texas, and I with our father gathered the steers each week and delivered them at the Agency. This was continued until the close of the Civil War and two of my older brothers, Colonel C. C. Slaughter and P. E. Slaughter, were rangers under Captain Jack Cureton, grandfather of the now Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Texas.

Upon return of my oldest brother, Colonel C. C. Slaughter, we found the Confederate money received in payment for the cattle furnished to the government for the Indians during the Civil War had no value. It was turned over to the children attending the school to use as thumb paper for the old Blue Back Spellers of those days. Hence we had no money, but plenty of cattle and Colonel Slaughter suggested to my father that we gather a herd of steers and drive to Shreveport, Louisiana, and ship to New Orleans in order to get ready cash. In the fall of 1867, my father, my oldest brother, and myself, with three other hands, left Palo Pinto with 900 steers, our destination being Shreveport, Louisiana. When we reached Rockwall county, we met Colonel T. H. John-

son, who had made a contract to deliver 1,500 steers at a small packing plant just east of Jefferson, Texas, situated on a little bayou. With the 600 head of steers he had gathered and the 900 we had, it was possible to complete the contract. The time for delivery was short and a trade was made with him. My brother, Colonel C. C. Slaughter, and Mr. Johnson left in a buggy for Jefferson immediately after closing the trade, being followed up with a herd of 1,500 steers in charge of my father. As soon as we struck the piney woods we would place the herds in the fields over night in order to get crop grass for them and the rainy season being on we were continually having to pull them out of the quicksand in the mornings. When we arrived at the packery we held the cattle there about two weeks until they were all killed. My father received $24,300 gold, or $27 per head, for the steers and we immediately went back to Jefferson and loaded the wagon with merchandise, including some oranges, the first I ever saw. He bought a pair of oldfashioned saddle bags and packed $20,000 in gold and put it across the rear of my saddle. I rode the pony with the gold back to Palo Pinto. This was the first drive I ever made.

In 1869 I went with a herd of cattle to Abilene, Kansas, my brother, P. E. Slaughter, being in charge. We crossed the Red River at the old Gaines crossing about 15 miles north of Gainesville, Texas, and went on by what is known as the Old Love Ranch, in the Indian Territory and then turned northwest, keeping on the south side of Paul's Valley, on the Washita River, crossing at Washita Springs and on through Indian Territory, entering Kansas on Bluff Creek where Caldwell, Kansas, is now situated. Then we went on north across the Arkansas River where Wichita is now located. I remember an old fat merchant by the name of McClain who had a store made of cottonwood logs on the south side of the river with the sign to the south reading,

"The First Chance" and the one to the north, "The Last Chance" to get supplies. We crossed the broad prairies from there to Abilene. This herd of cattle was sold to Lem Hunter of Illinois, by my brother, Colonel C. C. Slaughter.

The third drive was in 1870. I went this time as foreman, with a herd of 1,800 head of steers which was turned over to me on the head of Bear Creek, now known as the Corn Ranch in Parker county. I went over thc same route as we had gone the year before, everything moving nicely until I came to the Red Fork of the Arkansas River, where I came in contact with the Little Osage Indians, who were out under a permit from the agent of the Little Osage Agency, telling what a fine civilized tribe they were and saying that they would harm no one. Their only object was to kill some buffalo and deer. They played havoc with W. B. Grimes herd which was just ahead of me. Two of Grimes' cowboys, who had quit, were returning to Texas gave me the information that if I went on I would lose my herd, and advising me to change my routing. This herd had been contracted to Lem Hunter of Illinois, Jack Gillespie, and Billy Rogers of Kansas City, and I knew that I could not turn back and get them to Abilene in time to comply with the contract, as there was a forfeit with the Chick Bank at Kansas City of $10,000 by Hunter and his associates and a like amount by my brother, that the herd would reach Abilene on time specified by the contract. As the cattle had been sold for $35.00 per head, a fancy price in those days, I made up my mind to follow the instructions I had always received from my father to never turn back or to think of the bridge that I was to cross until I came to it—and then go over.

Being familiar with the habits of the Tonkaway Indians, to whom my father had supplied beef during the Civil War, I knew what they admired. I had one cowboy who had what we call a "desperado" or "Mex-

ican sash." It was made of silk, about six feet long, three to four feet wide, very gaudy, each end having silk tassels, I also had three bandana handkerchiefs, two red and one blue. I made up my mind this was the bridge that would get me by, if I came in contact with the Indians, as stated by Grimes' two cowboys. The next day when we reached the south side of Red Fork,

[drawing omitted — INDIANS MEETING COWMEN ON THE TRAIL]

Courtesy "Book of Cowboys."

and where the city of Kingfisher is now located, I found the statements made by these cowboys were true. I discovered the village made by the Indians; it was a city of tepees made out of buffalo hides which had been thoroughly dressed and smoked. As soon as we discovered them, we halted and had our dinner. The herd had not been watered and could not get to the river as the high bluffs on the south side were impassable and extended up to where we were to cross the river. I instructed the cook to separate some flour, coffee and bacon, enough for three meals, and cache it in the cowhide stretched under the wagon, where we used to carry the old Dutch oven, camp kettle and the wood, picked up along the trail. I told the cook if the Indians came up

and asked for flour, bacon and coffee, to throw out all the bedding and let them have it. We looked and saw about thirty Indians coming. The chuck wagon was in the rear of the herd and the horses in front, leading the herd. The chief asked for the foreman and I told him I had charge of the herd. He had three squaws with him. He had his Indian war paint on, and had a shield fastened to the back of his hair, ornamented with all kinds of feathers which extended about ten feet back, and two of the squaws were riding in the rear of the chief holding his head gear to keep it from dragging on the ground. The chief called for flour, bacon, sugar and coffee and the cook threw it out on the ground and it was put on a pony and two of the Indians returned to the village with it. The Indians immediately commenced whipping the cowboys' horses but I had told the cowboys to pay no attention to this. About this time the wind commenced blowing from the south and my herd could smell the Indians and I saw they were getting very restless, I said to myself, "Now is the time to cross the bridge." I pulled the desperado sash and the three handkerchiefs which I had hid in the bosom of my cowboy shirt, spread the sash over the chief, handed each one of the three squaws the handkerchiefs and you would have thought I was a little god for a little while, for they had a great talk in their own language, making much of me. This gave a chance for the herd to get to the crossing and as the front cattle were following the horses across, we rushed up behind the rear cattle and the scent of the Indians made them cross quickly. They demanded beef so I cut out three large steers that had sore feet, caused by wet weather. They had these steers killed in less time than I can say it and took the hide off and went into the little manifold or maw, scraped the grass back off of it and ate it raw while it was warm. But I could not understand why they wanted beef while there were thousands of buffalo in sight. When the herd

was across the river, they bantered us for horse races. I had eight of the horses brought back to the south side of the river, myself and two of my cowboys ran races with them all that afternoon. I had about $30 in silver and they had some very handsome dressed buffalo hides, I would put up about $2.00 or $3.00 against those beautiful hides, and allowed them to use their warriors as judges—and they were honest. When I won they gave hides up and when they won I gave them the money. I had about five hides when the sun was about down. I sent all the horses except the one I was riding and the cowboys were riding across the river and put up the $20.00 I had on the last race and instructed the boy that was going to run it, as he was riding the best horse I had, to jockey with them about fifteen minutes after I left, before running and turning the horse loose and he would be across the river before they knew it, directing him that when he crossed the river to turn to the left and follow the big hollow up to the high hills and I would wait there, which he did. The Indians shot at him several times but I think only to scare him. I had "crossed the bridge" with the Mexican sash. It saved my herd I feel sure.

We turned west at the point of the Blackjacks, ten miles north of Red Fork, and camped between two deep bluff hollows that night and did not unstop the bells on the oxen. Early next morning we pulled the herd across to the west side of Turkey Creek and kept up Turkey Creek on the west side which runs due north until we came to Sewall Branch Supply Station where we secured enough supplies to carry us to Bluff Creek where Capt. Stone had a large store. All of the old trail men knew Capt. Stone, who in the later years was one of the great buyers for our Texas cattle, when they reached Kansas. We had no more trouble and reached Holland Creek, near Abilene, three days before the expiration of the contract for the delivery of the cattle.

As soon as we reached Holland Creek my cowboys all wanted to go to Abilene. I divided them into squads and picked up two straws, one long and one short, and informed them that the ones that got the long straw would be allowed twenty-four hours in Abilene, when they would return and let the others go. The young man, Wash Wolf, who furnished me the sash that saved my herd, was in the first squad and never returned. He immediately got on a spree on arriving in Abilene and was killed in a dance hall there and I saw him no more. The herd was delivered and I received instructions from my brother to return to the Young county ranch with the outfit.

My fourth drive was in 1871. I had charge of the herd as in the previous year. I went from Young county where Graham is now situated, through Lost Valley, known as the old J. C. Loving ranch, on due north by Buffalo Springs, out by Victoria Peak, where Stephens & Worshan had a cattle ranch, about 20 miles north to the upper sand timbers. It commenced raining, about the time to bed the herd. We noticed northeast of us in another grove of timber a fire which later proved to be a band of Indians. Our herd stampeded that night. Next morning we counted the herd and found we were short 200 cattle. We soon found the trail which went southwest about two miles and split into two parts, part of them going south and part going west. Myself and another man followed the trail south about ten miles and found part of the cattle and brought them back to the main herd. We waited on the other two men to return until the next morning and as they did not return we went to where the cattle had separated and took the trail of the two horses, following the ones that went west about eight miles and found the two men had been murdered by the Indians, scalped and their bodies badly mutilated. We buried them there and returned to our herd and moved rapidly until we reached Red River Station, getting on the old Chisholm Trail.

In 1872 I went the same route but stopped the herd twenty-five miles south of Wichita and held them there until they were sold, which was in August. I had instructions to return to the Jack county ranch, on what is now known as Dillingham Prairies, and receive a herd of cattle from J. C. Loving and Charlie Rivers, a brother-in-law, Charles Rivers, a son-in-law of Oliver C. Loving, learned the business under his father-in-law, who had made two or three trips with Loving by the way of Ft. Sumner in New Mexico. The day I commenced receiving the cattle from Loving and Rivers on Dillingham Prairie we tallied out part of the herd and Mr. Loving waited for the arrival of Mr. Rivers for enough cattle to fill this contract. Mr. Rivers was on his way from Lost Valley to Dillingham Prairie. He arrived that evening and the cattle were penned and he made his camp nearby and guarded his horses. The Indians made a raid on the horses and in trying to protect them Charlie Rivers was shot, from which wound he later died at Weatherford, Texas.

In 1873 I drove a herd for my father to the head of Fall River. That spring in February I stopped at Ft. Worth several days and made a trade with E. M. (Bud) Dagget and Jake Farmer for a herd of young steers on my own account, as I had saved considerable money and my father endorsed for me at the First National Bank at Emporia, Kansas, for an additional amount to pay for the herd. As soon as the herd I went up with in the spring was turned over I immediately returned to Fort Worth and received this herd from Dagget and Farmer and drove them on the same route as I went before until I reached Chiloche Creek, south of the Arkansas River, and went due east to the mouth of Grouse Creek on the Arkansas River and wintered this herd there. Next spring they were carried to Verdigris River, Greenwood county, where Mr. Martindale had a large ranch. I sold this herd to him and returned to Texas.

In 1874 I drove a herd from Elm Creek, Young county to Dodge City, Kansas, and sold them to a Mr. Rob who represented one of the packing houses at Kansas City. I returned to Texas in 1875, bought a herd of cattle from John Gamel and Christy Crosby of Mason, Texas. I had a letter of credit from the City National Bank of Dallas, but they would not take checks, which forced me to go to San Antonio and get $15,000 in currency from Mr. Brackenridge, which I carried back to Mason to pay for this herd of cattle, traveling only at night until I got the money in Mr. Ranck's bank at Mason. I drove this herd to Jack county and returned and bought another herd from Charlie Lemburg of Llano county. Colonel I. T. Pryor, now of San Antonio, was his foreman at that time. I carried them to Jack county and wintered them there. In the spring of 1876 I drove one part of these cattle to Dodge City, Kansas, and sold to J. L. Driskill & Sons who had a ranch; but his home was at Austin. Texas.

In 1877 I drove a herd to Dodge City again and also my brother, Colonel C. C. Slaughter, drove two herds there and we sold the three herds to Hunter, Evans & Newman, who had secured the contract to furnish beef to the Indians in the Territory. I delivered this herd at Fort Reno, to Jesse Evans, who had charge of the outfit.

In 1879 I drove a herd of steers from Blanco Canyon, Crosby county, to Hunnewell, Kansas, and sold to Hewens & Titus, who were heavy buyers for good Texas steers. That year I got my first experience on the Texas fever proposition. Striking the trail at Bush Creek, east of Ft. Sill, following it for five days I saw that something was the matter with some of my steers, and I threw them east of the trail. I had been skeptical up to this time on Texas fever but the loss of steers sustained on this drive fully convinced me that there was such a thing as Texas fever.

In 1881 I drove two herds of steers from Palo Pinto

county, to Caldwell, Kansas, sold one herd to A. Golson, a hotel man at Caldwell and the other to Barbecue Campbell.

In 1882 I drove a herd to Trail City, Colorado, on the Arkansas River and sold to Jones Bros. of Los Animas, Colorado. In 1883 I moved two herds of stock cattle from Crosby county, Texas, to American Valley, Socorro county, in the western part of New Mexico. In 1885 I drove a herd of steers from Socorro county, New Mexico, to Laramie Plains on the Laramie River, just west of Laramie City, Wyoming. This was the hardest drive I think I ever made.

In 1886 I drove a herd from Blanco Canyon, Crosby county, Texas to Chino Valley, near Prescott, Arizona. In 1887 I drove a herd from Socorro to Laramie Plains, Wyoming, onto Crow Creek and sold them in small lots. They were shipped out over the Rock Island Railroad to Nebraska. In 1889 I moved two herds, one from New Mexico and one from Panhandle of Texas, to Malta, Valley county, Montana, situated on Milk River. In 1890 I drove a herd from Clayton, New Mexico, to the Cypress Hills on the south line of Canada.

In 1901 I carried a herd from Clifton, Arizona, to Liberal, Kansas. My wife was with me on the trail this time.

During all this time I had moved many herds in Texas from one part of the state to the other and also in New Mexico. My last drive and the only one of its kind so far as I know by anyone, was when I moved 104 buffalo from Dalhart, Dallam county, Texas, to Fort Garland, Colorado. I had no trouble with this herd of buffalo—as I had with herds of cattle. They had become domesticated by feeding them cottonseed cake and each night I would move them about one-fourth of a mile north of where I located my camp and about dark gave them about 50 pounds of cake. They would consume the cake and lay down until about midnight and get up to graze

on the buffalo grass and lick up what waste cake was left and bed down until daylight next morning, at which time I would be up, (for I had an alarm clock) and head them on north. One of the large buffalo bulls became vicious when we reached Fort Garland. We killed him and sent him by express back to Pueblo, Colorado, where he was held in cold storage twenty-one days. The State Bankers of Colorado met with the Bankers of Pueblo that year and he was barbecued and served to them.