Kitabı oku: «Philip of Texas», sayfa 3

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.