CHAPTER II
I Abandon the Printer’s Trade and Take Up Surveying.
After two years in Waxahachie, I decided to move back to Houston, where I concluded to learn the printer’s trade, and for this purpose secured a position in the office of the Houston Telegraph, which, at that time, perhaps, had the largest circulation and was the leading paper in the State. It was published by Allen & Brockett. Soon after entering this office and acting as printer’s devil for a while, they promoted me to the job office, where I became expert in doing fancy work, such as marriage notices, ball invitations, etc., but I was unable to collect any salary; these people were always hard up for money, and I never got anything out of it but my board and sufficient money for clothing. I finally became disgusted and went to Galveston, where I had an offer from a man by the name of Spratt, who published a little paper called the Ignis Fatuous or Jack o’ the Lantern. As the name indicates it was a humorous paper, containing criticisms in a humorous vein, of leading politicians of the city and the State. It was one of the most popular periodicals then published, selling at ten cents a copy, by newsboys, without having any left over each week. Here, too, I failed to get my pay, though I set up the whole paper and made up the forms, which were sent up to the Gazette’s office on Friday, where it was struck off ready for the sale of the paper on Saturday. I did my work at Spratt’s home, where he had set apart a room containing cases. I had board at the same place.
Spratt was a billiard fiend and, as soon as he got the money for his papers on Saturday, he would stay in town, play billiards until his money was exhausted, come home about Tuesday, and then prepare to furnish matter for the next issue. I worked with him for about sixty days. Failing to get my pay, I became disgusted and concluded that the printer’s trade was a good thing for me to drop. I then went back to Waxahachie and again went to work with the Angleman house and formed the acquaintance of an old land surveyor by the name of James E. Patton, who employed me to go with him on surveying expeditions, just for company, paying me a good salary. I furnished my own horse and arms, the latter of which he never carried. He was firm in the belief that Indians would never trouble him, although it was said that he was taken prisoner by the Indians, having been caught surveying lands down on Chambers’ Creek in Ellis County. They turned him loose, which was considered one of the most remarkable cases of Indian generosity ever known on the frontier, as they always killed surveyors whom they caught locating land.
It was also related of this old man, that, in the early days, when he surveyed lands in Ellis County, he substituted chain carrying by hobbling his ankles just the length of a vara, and stepped off the land, in place of measuring it with a chain. Colonel Patton was one of the most popular surveyors and land locaters in Texas. His compensation for locating headright certificates was one-half of the land, which made him one of the richest men in lands, at the time of his death, in that section of the State.
My first trip with Colonel Patton was to Fort Belknap, Texas, where he had formed the acquaintance of a man by the name of Gibbons, who moved there from Arkansas and owned about a dozen negroes, with whom he cultivated a considerable plantation just across the river from Fort Belknap. Gibbons had an Indian wife, a Delaware, who was dark complected like other Indians, but she had a younger sister, who married General Tarrant, an old Texas pioneer and Indian fighter, after whom Tarrant County is named. General Tarrant made his home in Ellis County and he and Colonel Patton were great friends. General Tarrant happened to be on a visit at Gibbons’ when we arrived there on our first expedition, and we were made to feel at home before starting out surveying.
It was the custom there for surveyors to make up a party of a half dozen or more to go on these expeditions, for protection against Indians who were then roaming over that whole section of the country. There was an Indian agency about twelve or fifteen miles below Belknap, in charge of Captain Shapley Ross, the father of General L. S. Ross, then a boy like myself. This agency was composed of remnant tribes of Indians, probably a half dozen or more, whom the Comanche Indians had run in off the range. These Indians had the protection of the United States Government and, of course, pretended to be friendly. The most uncivilized Indian in this agency was the Tonkawa, who, it was claimed, were cannibals. I remember as we passed through Keechie Valley, on our way to Weatherford, we stopped at a store for about an hour, resting and talking, when the storekeeper told us of a trouble he came very near having the day before. It seems a Tonkawa Indian had offered to trade him a pony for a young Kentuckian, who had just come out from his State and was clerking in the store. He asked the Indian what he wanted to do with the Kentuckian if he accepted his offer. The Indian told him that he wanted to eat him. The young man got a gun and was about to shoot the Indian, when the storekeeper stopped him and made the Indian leave.
There was another Indian agency at Camp Cooper, about forty miles west of Belknap, presided over by a man by the name of Neighbors. This agency had a tribe of the Southern Comanches, who were also run in by the Northern Comanches, or Apaches. These Southern Comanches claimed to be friendly with the whites in order to have the protection of the United States Government, but they, and occasionally the Ross Agency Indians, were believed to be responsible for many of the raids on our exposed frontier; especially the Indians at the upper agency at Camp Cooper. These raids became frequent; one of them culminating in the murder of two families in Jack County, and the carrying off of a little boy and girl as prisoners. Being hotly pursued by Rangers and citizens, they were forced to abandon the boy, whom they threw into the brush to be found by the pursuers. He made the statement that he was taken upon a horse, behind a red-headed white man, who seemed to be the leader of the band. This red-headed white man was seen in the Indian camp, located up on the Canadian River, at different times, by scouts.
Major Neighbors, while on a visit to Fort Belknap, became involved in a dispute with one of the citizens, who charged that his Indians were responsible for many of the raids on our frontier. The dispute resulted in a fight and Major Neighbors was killed by the citizen. His death created quite an excitement on the frontier, as he was a United States officer and the Government asked an investigation of the affair, but there was never anything done about it.
While on my first trip with Colonel Patton, while we were making our headquarters at Gibbons’, we found General Tarrant and his wife, the sister of Mrs. Gibbons. This lady, by the way, was as fair as most of the white women on the frontier. Their adopted son, Jesse, was about my age. Gibbons had two sons, one about my age, the other a year younger. We boys became great friends, and sometimes engaged in hunting and fishing.
One day we four decided to go fishing at the mouth of a creek, where it emptied into the Brazos, about three-quarters of a mile below the house. We cut fishing poles at a thicket near the creek. After fishing a while without any result, we got tired and commenced shooting with our pistols, of which each had one. All boys of our age always then went armed with six-shooters, the custom of the frontier. After shooting at a log in the creek, thereby emptying our pistols, we did not reload, not deeming it necessary just then, and decided to go in bathing in the river. The river being very low, was only running on the Fort Belknap side, and we had to walk a considerable distance on a sand bar to the water. Having just stripped ourselves of our clothing, ready to go in, we heard voices calling on the south bank of the river and discovered a group of men beckoning to us to come over to them. These proved to be General Tarrant, Colonel Patton, Gibbons, his overseer and a blacksmith, who, with his wife, occupied a log cabin on Gibbons’ place, he being at work for the troops at the Fort.
When we reached this party of men we were asked where we had been. When we told them that we had cut our fishing poles at a thicket, they commenced laughing and guying this blacksmith, telling him that his wife had mistaken us for Indians and concluded that this was a sufficient explanation of the alarm about Indians that she had created. This blacksmith insisted on going down to this thicket, saying that he was satisfied that his wife was not frightened and made no mistake; that she must have seen Indians there, but they would not hear to it, and in going up to the house, stopped at the cabin and told this woman that it was us boys that she saw, in place of Indians. She, too, insisted that they were mistaken, that there were surely Indians in that thicket, but they paid no further attention to the matter and went home.
It was the custom there to tie all horses in the yard, around the house, which was done that night. When we woke next morning we found all of our horses gone. When they then investigated the thicket where we boys cut our fishing poles, they found plenty of Indian signs, such as small pieces of buffalo meat and moccasin tracks. The matter, of course, was reported to the commandant of the fort, who got his troops ready to start in pursuit the next evening. This was about the character of protection afforded by the United States troops. If rangers had been stationed there, they would have been in the saddle in less than an hour and continued the pursuit until the Indians were caught up with.