street to get breakfast, and a toddy was suggested. After going up the street some distance, not knowing that Iowa was a dry state at that time, we stopped on the corner of a street and looked about as strangers would do, when a man standing on the opposite side, without asking a word, but, I think, from Comb's drouthy look, sized us up and said: "Go back two doors and go in a back room and you will find what you are looking for." We followed instructions and located.

LIVED IN SAN ANTONIO AT TIME OF WOLL'S
INVASION

By George W. West, Jourdanton, Texas

I was born in Jefferson County, Texas, March 5, 1835. My father, Claiborn West, was one of the signers of the Declaration of Texas Independence. I entered the stock business in 1854 in Atascosa County, and afterward went up the trail twice, each time with my own cattle; endured the usual hardships, but was not molested by Indians except when passing through the Territory, where the Osage tribe demanded toll, and I gave them a few steers. I wintered one of my herds in Nebraska and fattened them on corn which I bought at fifteen cents a bushel. I sold those steers for $5.00 per hundred pounds, which was considered a good price.

I lived on the San Miguel when the Indians were very bad. One night we had our saddle horses tied in the yard to keep the Indians from stealing them and when I went out at daylight to stake them out they were gone, but moccasin tracks showed plainly who had taken them. Notwithstanding the fact that I had two dogs in the yard which would have torn a man to pieces, those Indians got those horses without arousing the dogs.

In one Indian fight in which I was engaged I killed

one redskin and got his bows, arrows and shield, which I gave to Frank Hall, a brother of Bill Hall. Frank took them to Maine and gave them to his relatives.

The old-timers living on the San Miguel at that time were L. B. Harris, Alex, Steve and Nat Walker, Jim Lowe and old man Pierce.

I went to school in San Antonio in 1845, when Woll's Mexican army came and occupied the town.

Seven years ago I had one of my legs amputated just above the knee and since that time I have had to occupy an invalid's chair. My wife and I are living with our daughter, Mrs. Lula West Ray, near Jourdanton, in Atascosa County.

GOT THEIR NAMES IN THE POT FOR SUPPER
AND BREAKFAST

By E. M. (Mac) Storey, Lockhart, Texas

I was born in Lockhart, Caldwell County, Texas, December 12, 1857, was raised here and served as mayor of the town for sixteen years. My first experience in handling cattle began when I was nineteen years old. My father was not a stockman and therefore I did not grow up from babyhood handling cattle. After my school days were over I, with others, drove a mule team, hauling freight from Lockhart to Austin and down to the coast. In 1887 I started on the cattle trail, first going to the Erskin pasture in Guadalupe County, to get the cattle for Dewees & Ellison, and gathered them out of the brush so thick, as Green (Pap) Mills said, you could hardly stick a knife in it. Our boss was N. P. (Uncle Nat.) Ellison. The hands with us, as well as I remember, were W. M. Ellison, Green Mills, W. F. Fielder, E. F. Hilliard, John Patterson, Albert McQueen and Asa Jack

son.

We had no serious mishap until we reached Onion Creek, where we had a storm and stampede. We counted next morning and were out over 300 cattle in the mountains and the mud, but we soon gathered them all in and moved on, getting out of the brush at Burnett, where we rested a half day. When we reached Red River at Red River Station we had a stampede one night which was caused by a panther coming into camp to get some fresh beef we had on a line.

In 1871 I went with William Green for Bishop & Head. We gathered our herd that spring at Joe Cotulla's ranch in La Salle County, and delivered them to Millett & Erwin on their ranch in the Panhandle, after which R. G. Head sent J. R. Saunders, H. F. Mohle, Billie Gray, Jim Foster and myself to Dodge City, Kansas, to cut all herds that came that way. We had two pack mules and seventeen horses, and when we reached Pease River one of the pack mules laid down and wallowed with his pack, turning it under his belly, so when he got up he stampeded and scattered clothes and blankets everywhere. We finally caught him, gathered up our plunder and went on and camped on a little creek three miles south of the Washita River. That night we had an awful rain and had to move to higher ground. We devoured all of our grub here, expecting to overtake one of Ellison & Dewees' herd before this, but they had crossed the Washita the day before. We started to cross while the stream was on a big rise, and as soon as our loose horses and pack mules struck the swimming water they turned down stream. Being nearer to them, I jumped my horse into it and he did not try to swim a lick, so I floated him out to a sandbar on the other side and lost my saddlebags and all of my clothes except those I had on. When we reached the Washita it was also on a rampage and we decided to wait until the next morning to see if the stream would run down, but the next day it was higher than ever, so we roped logs that were floating down the

stream with which to construct a raft. While doing so Billie Gray roped a large tree top and it pulled him into the river. As he could not swim, I threw him the end of my lariat and, thinking he had failed to catch it, I plunged into the water to go to him, still holding my rope. Before I came up I felt him pulling on it, and when I again saw him he was overhanding the rope about ten or fifteen feet from me, so I caught a willow limb. By that time he reached me, caught me around the neck and ducked both of us. I held onto the limb, and he to my neck, and we got out all right, and I lost my lariat. Our craft got water-soaked and we had to make several trips with it to get our bedding across. I swam that river seventeen times that day without a bite to eat, and had had nothing the day before.

The third day we rode all day without food and camped at night in the mud. The fourth day we rode as fast as we could and decided that if we did not get something to eat within a very short time we would kill a horse and eat him, but about one o'clock we struck fresh herd signs and then we shoved our horses and pack mules to the limit. I was about 200 yards behind the other boys when they reached the camp of one of D. R. Fant's herds, and when I got there the boys were still on their horses. They informed me that the boss said he had no grub to spare, as he did not have enough to last him until he reached Dodge City. I remarked that I would just as soon die there as further up the creek, and that I was going to eat or get blood, and I meant every word of it, for I did not intend to perish from starvation when I could smell grub. The other boys were in the same fix, so I felt sure they would stand by me. I got off my horse, walked to the chuck box, where I found some cold cornbread and fat bacon, and ate some of it, went out to one side and vomited it up. We tried that performance several times before we could get the grub to stay with us. The cook put our names in the pot for supper and break

fast, and the boss apologized for the manner in which he had refused to give us anything to eat, saying he thought perhaps we were a bunch of horse thieves, as we had so many good looking horses, and was afraid to encourage us to remain near for fear we would steal his horses that night. We took our dinners with us the next day and caught the Ellison herd at Wolf Creek. Joe Ague had charge of it. We stayed with him two days, then went on to Dodge City, where I remained and cut cattle three and a half months. Then we threw all of the cattle we had cut, about 600 head, in with one of Dewees & Ellison's herds, and went from there to Ogallala, Nebraska, where the most of the herd was sold to Bosler & Lawrence on the North Platte, near the mouth of Blue Creek. There I was employed to do line riding until October. We gathered a shipment of beef cattle, crossed the river at Sidney Bridge and went to Ogallala, and from there with them to Chicago, when I came home to Texas.

In 1879 I went up with L. T. Pierce for Bishop & Head. In 1880 I went with Giles Fenner for the same firm as far as Cheyenne, Wyoming. There I received a wire from Mr. Head instructing me to go by train to Ogallala to take charge of a range herd of 3,700 cattle. In about two months he sold them back and I took 125 head of horses to Buffalo Bill Cody's ranch near Platte City, then took the train back to Ogallala and from there back to my place of birth and residence.

SETTLED ON THE FRONTIER OF TEXAS

Sketch of Ed B. English of Carrizo Springs, Texas

Ed English, son of Captain Levi English, was born in DeWitt County, Texas, near Yorktown, April 7, 1852. His mother was Matilda Burleson, a cousin to General Edward Burleson, and also a cousin to Joe Hornsby, who