and horses through, delivered the wagon to him, as he had bought everything but the men, and asked him where his ranch house was. He told me it was about a mile away at a cottonwood mot on the creek. I called the boys and struck a gallop, and when we got there I unsaddled my horse, pulled off my leggins and six-shooter, laid my head on my saddle on the shady side of the house, and said, "Now, boys, I am going to sleep, and the first d-d man that wakes me I'll kill him." I slept until dark, and when I awoke Mr. Robinson had a fine supper prepared for us boys. Bill Blocker had sent me sufficient money to pay my men, and the next day Robinson took us all to the railroad. The men all went back to Texas, while Robinson and I went to Denver, where we found Bill Blocker at a hotel. I was wearing an old tattered Mexican hat, my clothes were showing the effects of the trail work, and I had a mashed foot. Bill said to me, "You can't eat at this hotel dressed like that." I remarked, "I'll come d-n near eating if anyone else does," and walked into the dining room with the well-dressed guests. After dinner Bill asked me how much money I wanted and I told him about $200. He gave it to me, and I went out and got a shave and bath, and dressed up in great style, then went back to the hotel and Mr. Robinson did not know me. I remained there several days, had my picture taken and gave one to Robinson and told him to hang it in his ranch house so that he would never forget the man that had hell in his neck at Deer Trail. He thanked me and assured me that he would never forget Ab. Blocker.

In 1886 I went to San Antonio, got a wagon, horses and hands and went below Pearsall to receive a herd of 1,500 steers. Drove them for Blocker, Driscoll & Davis to Hugo, Colorado, and turned them over to old Fine Earnest. Blocker, Driscoll & Davis had 57,000 cattle and 1,800 saddle horses on the trail that year. After I turned over the herd at Hugo, I came back with a few men and

wagon to Tom Green County and gathered a herd of cattle and drove them to the mouth of Devil's River, where I delivered them to George Berry and he wintered them there for John Blocker, then put them into Mexico the next spring, and I went to Austin, where I went to work on the farm for my father and mother. Here I worked like h-1 for two years and never made a cent because of the drouth. I got four cents for my cotton the first year and five cents the next year, and I swore if I ever planted cotton any more I would boil the seed before I planted it. Mother sold the farm and I went back to the saddle on the hurricane deck of a little pony.

In 1889 I drove 3,700 cattle from Tom Green County to Wyoming for John Blocker. He met me at Fort Laramie, where he sold 1,000 out of this herd and I went to the Belle Fourche River with the balance. When I got back to Austin I had a fine time while my money lasted.

In 1890 I went to the Chupadero ranch near Eagle Pass and worked for my brother, John, for a while, then went back to Austin, got a wagon and four mules from Bill Blocker and tanked for brother John and Tom Cole

man. Got so d-d tired of that job Johnnie put me on that Chupadero ranch as boss. In 1891 John put me to feeding 1,500 steers eight miles from Eagle Pass, and I spent the winter there.

In 1892 I ran an outfit all over the lower country for Blocker & Coleman, working cattle day and night.

In 1893 brother John sent me with wagon and eightytwo horses from Spofford to a ranch about seventy-five miles from Colorado City, Texas, to drive a herd from there for Harris Franklin to South Dakota. Mr. Franklin and his boss were there and had received the cattle, but brother John had told me that I had the right to cut out all I thought would not stand the trip, so I cut out some and left here with 2,997 cattle and delivered all but fourteen head near Deadwood, South Dakota. John drove these cattle for $2.75 per head and paid the bosses. He had never seen the herd until I reached the ranch with them and when he looked them over he said, "Well, Ab, that is the best herd I ever saw come over the trail." I told him the cattle were all O. K., but I had lost thirtyseven of his d-d old horses, and he remarked, "I did not expect you to get here with more than one horse to the man." So I felt pretty good. He sold all of the horses but two to one of the hands, and I sent Link Norwood, the cook, with the wagon and four mules back to Eagle Pass. He drove from near Deadwood, South Dakota, to Eagle Pass, Texas, in fifty-nine days. The accompanying photograph was taken just before my outfit started on this trip, and the mules shown therein made the entire trip, going and coming, with the chuck wagon.

In 1896 I married Miss Florence Baldwin, on the Rio Grande River, and lived at the Chuparedo ranch until 1897, when I moved to a ranch fifteen miles southeast of Cotulla, and went broke there during the drouth. In 1902 I went to Oklahoma and in 1903 came back to Eagle Pass, where I worked for Blocker & Ford, later going back to the Chupadero ranch, where I remained until

1912, then commenced working for the Cattle Raisers' Association, and have been engaged in this work ever since.

MY THIRD AND LAST TRIP UP THE TRAIL IN 1886

By R. J. Jennings of San Antonio, Texas

I left Frio County on the 20th of March, 1886, in company with eleven Pearsall boys, headed for the Pena ranch to take charge of a herd of 1,100 one and two-yearold Mexican cattle belonging to Blocker, Driscoll & Davis, which were to be driven to Deer Trail, Colorado. We went by rail to Laredo and on to Hebbronville, and from there out to the ranch, where we found Mr. Blocker waiting for us, and when we had the herd ready to start he told us to go to the Catarina ranch in Dimmit County, where I would be given 1,400 more. Some of the first herd were very poor, and those we received at the Catarina ranch were big, fat, strong fellows, and I remarked to Mr. Blocker when I saw them that I would either have to drive the poor ones to death or starve the fat ones, to which he replied that I could graze them. We pulled out with the herd and passed near Carriza Springs, on to Eagle Pass, and out by Spofford Junction, where we came into the Western Trail and went up the Nueces River by Kickapoo Springs. There the hard road began to get harder, and we found no grass and but little water, therefore I did not "graze them through," as Mr. Blocker had suggested. The first rain that fell on us was at Vernon, on the Pease River.

This herd belonged to Driscoll, Blocker & Davis, who at the time had about 20,000 cattle on the trail in different herds. On account of the exceedingly dry weather that had prevailed for a good while it was a very hard year for trail men, and many of them sustained heavy losses.

When we got over the divide into Llano County, where cattle rustlers were thick, I picked up a red and white hided beef which had the road brand, a big D, on him. Some rustler had tried to efface this D, but made a failure and left the brand showing very plainly. A day or two later a mountain gent came to my herd, saw this steer and claimed him for another party. I refused to give the steer up, and that is where I made a grave mistake, for, in consequence, I lost about twenty-five head of cattle and seven horses, and besides sustained serious injury. The actions of the fellow made me suspicious, and I warned my hands to look out for trouble, for we were in a region infested with rustlers, and there was no knowing just what they would resort to. I always held the herd while the first watch was getting up their night horses and at their supper. That evening I rode into camp after being relieved, and was eating my supper when the herd started to run. It was just after dusk, and as the moon had not yet risen, we had no light to see what caused the stampede, but I straddled my horse and went down the hill in front of the frightened cattle. That was the last I remembered until about midnight. The boys missed me, and supposed I was somewhere with a bunch of the cattle, but finally they discovered me sitting on my horse in the middle of the herd. Sam Oden said he called to me but I did not answer, and he came to me and found me in a dazed and speechless condition. He led my horse to camp and tried to get me to lay down, but I could get no rest in that manner. I had in some manner been painfully injured and for two weeks afterward I could sleep only when I was leaning against the end gate of the wagon. How it all happened is a mystery and will probably never be known. Even to this day that injury is still felt and I suffer from it. I do not know how I came to be on my horse when they found me. When we reached old Runnels City I was still spitting blood, and Mr. Blocker insisted that I go back home, but I refused