ered cattle. I thought sure we were going to have a general mixup that night, for I never saw so many cattle in my life before, but we kept separated by lots of hard work and constant riding. We did not drink the water ourselves, but dug shallow pits away from the river, let the water seep in and used that.

Sometimes the cowboys, when off herd, would have great sport chasing antelope, but could not catch them. There was a certain species of wolf in that region called a "swift," of a dark brown color, which we often tried to catch, but they were too swift for us. We often captured wild turkey gobblers which had strayed out from the rivers to the level prairie. When we jumped them they would fly a mile or two, then we would run them down.

WHEN "LOUISIANA" CAME TO TEXAS

By T. M. Turner, San Antonio, Texas

On August 9, 1869, I arrived at Goliad, from Louişiana. At Richmond I overtook Bryant Reynolds and Leander Butler, who were on their way to Goliad, and accepted their invitation to travel with them. I had come to Texas to be a cowboy. During the Civil War I had served as a scout in the Confederate Army, and had encountered some thrilling experiences while acting in that capacity, but I always wanted to be a cowboy, for it was a life that particularly appealed to me.

We traveled through the piney woods for two days, after which we came to the prairie, and here I encountered a young Englishman named Johnson, under a live oak tree unsaddling his horse. He had recently arrived from England and was on his way to Rockport, but decided to accompany us. Johnson was a pretty green tenderfoot, like myself, and when he found a jackrabbit

he tried to catch him with a rope, thinking the rabbit was crippled because he ran off on three legs and had a bump on one side of his tail. The last time I saw that Englishman he was still running that rabbit. We arrived at Rance Taylor's ranch, and next day I was engaged by Mr. Taylor to build a cornerib. While at this work B. F. (Dock) Burris, a prominent stockman of Bee County, came there and wanted to know if there was a chap on the ranch who wanted work. Mr. Taylor told him he could probably employ me, so we made a trade. He was to start me at $12.50 per month and raise my wages as I made good. So I started my cowboy life August 18, 1869, on Goat Creek, Goliad County, Texas, and began rounding up on Pettus Prairie. When we threw the cattle together I thought we had all the cattle in Texas there, and would have nothing to do the following day. Dock Burris said to me, "Louisiana, you go over to those mesquite trees and hold them as we cut them out. If you need help I will send another hand to you." I did as I was told, and presently I heard Bryant Reynolds saying, "Here she is, Dock," and the reply, "All right, Bryant. Wait until I can get there, for all hell can't cut her out alone." They were talking about an old brindle cow, a typical Texas longhorn, with the bush of her tail cut off, including three inches of the bone. She was coming in my direction and Mr. Burris called to me, "Hold her up, Louisiana; hold her up." I did my best to stop her, but she had her head set and turned down within a foot of the ground, determined to go right on. One of the boys called out, "Tail her, Louisiana; tail her," and when I caught her tail with both hands my horse went one way and Old Brindle and I went another. The boys yelled with glee and shouted to me to "stay with her." Indeed I stayed, until Dock got to me and said "turn her loose," at the same time getting in between me and that maddened old brindle cow. On our way to the branding pen Mr. Burris and I were working the tail

end of the cows and calves. He had a pretty little brown pony in the herd which he told me belonged to his son, Shannon, and said he did not permit the cowboys to ride it for fear they would hurt his back, but as I was not much larger than Shannon, he would let me use the pony. He staked the pony out that night so he would not be too full of grass to run after the cattle the next day. When we had everything arranged the next morning to make our start Mr. Burris caught the pony by the right ear and told Bryant to lay my saddle on him right easy. The little horse squatted right near the ground as the saddle girth was being slowly drawn tight, and when I mounted him, Mr. Burris let go of his ear and threw his hat under the pony's belly. Things became interesting about this time, and I turned the reins loose, for I had to use both hands to hold to the horn of the saddle. The boys yelled, "Stay with him, Louisiana," and I stayed until the reins became entangled in his front feet and from sheer exhaustion the little brown pony ceased pitching.

We branded about two hundred calves below the old mission at Goliad. It was my first experience in this line of work, but when I saw the boys grab the yearlings by the tail, jerk them down, run their tails between their hind legs and yell, "Come on with the branding iron," I thought it was time for me to do likewise, so I caught one of the yearlings by the tail and set back, when lo, she sent both hind feet into my stomach and I landed on my back, and then it was "twinkle, twinkle, little starwhat in hell is the matter now?" This little motley-faced heifer must have been Old Brindle's calf.

I was sent to W. G. Butler's ranch in Karnes County and drove big-jawed and crippled beeves from there to Rockport, where they were killed for their hides and tallow and the meat fed to hogs.

In March, 1870, we started a herd of beeves to Abilene, Kansas. At Fort Worth, then a little cross-roads town, we met two shorthorn cowboys who were yelling

and shooting, and we came near having trouble with them, because they turned our cattle back. Mr. Butler and I told them in a very emphatic manner to strike a high ball to town, and they struck it, and the last we saw of them was a streak of Fort Worth dust. We had a fine time that year, as everything was in good condition and going smooth. In those days I thought I was a "sticker" with a bunch of cattle in sunshine, rain or storm, but Pleas Butler could work all of the Karnes County starch out of any other man in Texas. No man ever drove a bunch of cattle up the trail any better than Pleas Butler.

MADE SEVERAL TRIPS UP THE TRAIL

By N. L. Word, Alice, Texas

I was born in Noonan, Georgia, June 6, 1846, and came to Texas when but a boy. Made my first trip up the trail in 1871 with my brother, Charlie, who had 500 big steers, which we placed in a herd of 500 more belonging to Emmet Rutledge and John Scott, which made a herd of 1,000, and we started from Gonzales, drove them to Abilene, Kansas, and sold the steers belonging to Rutledge. and Scott, while brother

Charlie drove our steers on to
Omaha, Neb.

My next trip was with 1,200 head of horses belonging to D. R. Fant and myself.

N. L. WORD

This was the first large bunch of horses driven up the trail. As we disposed of these horses at a good figure, I took another herd of horses the next season, 900 head.

We bought the first herd from Upshur Brookin, Mike Carrigan and Tom Welder, and I purchased the second herd from John Welder.

After that, the next year, I drove 2,000 one and twoyear-old steers to Ogallala, Nebraska, and when we reached there I put in 2,000 more with the herd and drove to Sydney Bridge, Nebraska, where I delivered half of them to D. R. Fant, who owned them. The remaining 2,000 were driven to the 999 Ranch in Wyoming, where I delivered them to parties who had contracted with Mr. Fant for them.

My next trip was with 2,500 two-year-olds, which were taken to the R-S ranch on Wolf Creek, Indian Territory, and delivered to D. R. Fant, who had purchased the lease on this ranch and had also purchased 4,000 cattle with the lease. Mr. Fant also bought the 17- Ranch lease and cattle, about 1,500 head.

I made a trip from Santa Rosa Ranch with 2,500 twoyear-old steers. I drove these for half the profit. The price Mr. Fant put on them was $12 per head. I took them to Runnels County and sold them to John Blocker after the trail was closed.

I have bought cattle all over the country, from the Santa Rosa Ranch to San Fernandez, Mexico, but during the past few years my activities have been limited. in this respect, for I have bought and shipped only a few. I bossed the Santa Rosa Ranch for D. R. Fant for eight years and helped put up many herds for him.

PROBABLY THE OLDEST FEEDER IN TEXAS

By R. F. Sellers, Mathis, Texas

My father, Robert Sellers, came to Texas in 1835 from Tennessee, and was one of the first men to build a log house in LaGrange. He secured a head-right of a league of land in the lower part of Gonzales County, but did