Lavaca county and from that time up to the time of his death, which occurred December 2nd, 1911, he was continuously in the cattle business.

In about 1873 L. B. Allen, W. J. Moore and Sam Moore formed a partnership which continued until the death of Sam Moore, and was continued with W. J. Moore up to the time of the death of L. B. Allen. They first had their ranch in Lavaca county and later moved their ranch to Uvalde and Kinney counties. Mr. Allen made many trips up the trail, driving cattle to Dakota and Nebraska. At one time Moore & Allen opened up a ranch in the Black Hills. L. B. Allen, W. J. Moore, Sam Moore, J. M. Bennett, Sol West, Ike West, George West and Mr. McCutcheon were all stockmen in the early days in Lavaca county at Sweet Home, all of them became large cattle owners and were successful in business.

One of the best evidences of the integrity of Mr. Allen and his associates and neighbors is that they all, since their early settlement at Sweet Home, have remained intimate friends.

L. B. Allen was the brother of W. W. Allen, who was also engaged in the stock business, also of R. B. Allen, who was an attorney and also engaged in the stock busi

ness.

The above early settlers of Sweet Home, Texas, were all large men of stature, and also large in character, and in their dealings with each other no other obligation was required in any contract except their word.

HAD LESS TROUBLE WITH INDIANS THAN WITH THE GRANGERS ON THE TRAIL

By J. E. Pettus, of Goliad, Texas

My father, John Freeman Pettus, came to Texas with Austin's Colony in 1822. He fought with old Ben Milam in San Antonio, and was also in the Battle of San

Jacinto. I was born in DeWitt county, when but few settlers lived there and spent my boyhood on the frontier. When I first started on the trail it was with my own cattle, my brother W. A. Pettus loaning me the money to buy these cattle and I drove them to Dodge City, Kansas. I drove one year to Ogallala, Nebraska.

In making trips up the trail I was always happy when we crossed Red River for we had less trouble with the Indians than with the grangers. The Indians would sometimes come into camp and beg from us, demanding fat beeves, but we always managed to pacify them. But the grangers displayed a degree of animosity toward the trail drivers that was almost unbearable.

J. E. PETTUS

My father settled in Bee county in 1857, and lived there for many years, moving to Goliad county in 1877. When we first resided in these counties the population was small and the country almost a wilderness. Today shows quite a contrast, and as I look back over the intervening years I can see the remarkable changes that have taken place. But foremost and above all the cowman has had his full share in the making of this glorious country, for he was the pioneer, the advance guard of the high state of civilization that is enjoyed by the present generation.

I had three brothers, W. A. Pettus, J. M. Pettus and T. G. Pettus. The two first named died several years ago, and T. G. now lives at Charco, in Goliad county.

MY TRIP UP THE TRAIL

By W. F. Thompson, Pearsall, Texas

It was in the clay hills of Mississippi, February 5th, 1863, where I first sprung to light. My father, being an officer in the Confederate Army, soon saw the cause was lost and in 1865 ran the blockade and came to Texas. Hence, Texas got another missionary. In 1870 we landed in Medina county, where I grew up among the hardships of a frontier life, as there were no churches or schools to go to. In 1863 I left the Lytle ranch on the Chicon creek with a herd of horses and went to Kerrville where we began receiving cattle to go up the trail. We bought the cattle between Fredericksburg and Blanco City, and in a few days we had two thousand cattle under herd. The first night we herded out we had the worst stampede I ever saw. At twelve o'clock at night when I went to call first relief, the cattle came right into camp where the boys had the horses tied to a fence. Several broke loose, dragging rails and coming into the herd. I tried to cut them off from where the horses were grazing, all being hobbled, but they beat me to them, soon got mixed up and turned down a lane with a mad rush, cattle, myself and horses. We went for some time before I could get around to one side, and then held them until daylight, when I got help from the camp. We remained there several days getting the cattle together, at last hitting the trail with some three thousand steers and had but little trouble until we reached the Red River at Doan's Store. Zack Stucker, our boss, had gone ahead to look for a crossing on the river, as it was up very high from spring rains, and when he came back he ordered me to get ready to cross at two o'clock in the evening. I informed him that all the boys were drunk as old man Doan had some wagon-yard whiskey, and that we had better not cross as the men would have to swim, and a drunken

man cannot swim. I told him to move camp up the river and wait until the next day, which we did, and crossed all right. We had some trouble in the Indian Territory, but got through by giving the Indians some steer yearlings. We came to Camp Supply where we saw a signboard, reading "The Way to Camp Supply is closedgo to right." Gus Black, Til Driscoll and J. A. Kercheville were waiting for some one else to go there. My boss, Zack Stucker, being a fighting man of some reputation, said that a "bunch of shorthorns could not turn him back," and we went straight ahead, ignoring the signboard instructions. The next day we came to the finest country I ever saw. Here we struck the first range cattle that we had seen in the Territory. My boss came, to me and told me to get another boy and go out and butcher one of these fine calves. They were sure fat and good. I told him that Mr. Lytle did not hire me to steal cattle, and I would not do it. He had no trouble in getting some one else, so the calf was butchered. He told me to go ahead and camp the wagon and have the calf ribs barbecued for dinner, which I did; but before we had gotten the ribs on the fire, I saw him coming to camp and he said "Hide the meat," as there were some ten or twelve "shorthorns" coming and all had double-barrel shotguns, and said that we would have to turn back and that they would see that we did so as they had plenty of soldiers to help them. My boss lost all of his fighting spirit and promised to turn back, and here he certainly showed his "gall." He said to the gang of men that had just come up and ordered him to turn back that "I would ask you to eat dinner with me but we have nothing but bacon, as you watched us so close that we haven't had a chance to steal anything."

They told him (the boss) to come to their camp and they would give him a quarter of a beef, which they did, and the boss of course accepted their hospitality. The stolen calf was the best meat, however.

I landed at Fort Dodge, Kansas, and I had a date to take a young lady to a Fourth of July barbecue and dance. I resigned my position and came home. The same lady I took to the barbecue and dance, is the same one I am taking around with me to the Old Trail Drivers' reunions.

We have six children, one girl and five boys, and all the boys are engaged in the stock business. I am living quietly on my ranch in Frio county, where I expect to pass my remaining days.

RICHARD KING

One of the most useful men in South Texas was Captain Richard King, who died in the eighties, aged sixty years. Mr. King was born in Orange county, New York, July 10, 1825, and came to

Texas when he was twenty-two years old. He first became engaged in steamboat traffic, and built up quite an extensive business, becoming associated with Captain M. Kennedy, Charles Stillman and James O'Donnell in the operation of twenty-six steamers on the Rio Grande, the firm being known as King, Kennedy & Company which continued until Captain King began to devote his entire time to cattle raising. He began purchasing grazing land and imported domesticated stock from Mexico in the later fifties. He was the pioneer importer of graded stock, purchasing Durhams from Kentucky and rams from the North. His livestock holdings at one time were 100,000 cattle, 20,000 sheep and 10,000 horses. Thou

RICHARD KING