in Lavaca county. It was here the subject of our sketch entered the stock business. He was one of the first to drive cattle from Texas to Kansas, and he continued driving until the trail closed. He sold and delivered cattle to Indian agencies, and to ranches in Montana, South Dakota, Wyoming, Colorado, and Kansas, making drives to Abilene, Wichita, Ellsworth, and Dodge City. It was in 1886 that he, with John Blocker and others had their herds held up at Camp Supply by ranchmen who GEORGE W. WEST tried to keep them from crossing their ranches. The number of cattle held up amounted to more than 100,000 head, and Mr. West and John Blocker spent more than $100 sending telegrams to the authorities at Washington to get the government to take action in the matter. Finally orders came from Washington for them to cut fences and pass through and with a rush the cow outfits started their herds on the move. Within just a few moments after orders came from Washington a thunder storm came up, lightning struck the telegraph instruments, demolished the office and put the line out of commission. Captain Carr, of the U. S. Army, who was in San Antonio a few months ago, was telegraph operator who took the message. Messrs. West and Blocker narrowly escaped being killed by the lightning. Mr. West has maintained large ranches in different parts of South Texas since the early seventies. No man in that region has matured, fattened and shipped to market more fat steers than George W. West. He owns at present 60,000 acres of choice land in Live Oak county, the best equipped cattle ranch in South Texas, fenced and crossed-fenced, with dipping vats, stock pens, and everything it takes to make a model ranch. This ranch surrounds the town of George West, the thriving county seat of Live Oak county. Mr. West has retired from business, and now lives quietly in his modern home in San Antonio, but he keeps in close touch with state and national affairs, and watches closely the livestock industry. If his views and advice could be carried out, conditions in Texas would be much better. He claims less laws and strict enforcement of them is the best remedy to save our country. His neighbors and business associates in the early days were his brothers, Sol and Ike West, Willis McCutcheon, Sam and Bill Moore, Lew Allen and John Bennett. PLAYED THE FIDDLE ON HERD AT NIGHT Lake Porter, Falfurrias, Texas I was born January 5th, 1854, in Chickasaw, Mississippi, and came to Texas with my parents before my eyes were open, landing at Seguin, Guadalupe county, where we lived three years, then moved to Goliad county and settled on the Maha Rayo Creek, where we were living when the Civil War broke out. Among those living on the Maha Rayo at that time were Peter Smith's family, Pate Allen, the Batemans, McKinneys, Nat Burkett, Mayas Catherin, T. B. Saunders, J. B. Hawk, Jim Ronean, Jim and Gip Dowty. We moved to the town of Goliad while the Civil War was going on, living there until its close, at which time my father, S. P. Porter, was LAKE PORTER killed in the town of Gonzales. My mother was left with eight small children, one pair of twins in the bunch. I was about the middle of the bunch, being at that time about nine years old. As father was taken from us suddenly, leaving mother without means, it was "root, hog, or die" with us little fellows, so your humble servant went to work for R. T. Davis for my grub and clothes, and, bless your life, the clothes did not consist of any broadcloth suits either. I worked for Davis one year and was then employed by A. C. Jones, Sr., of Bee county, who had a small horse ranch on the extreme head of Blanco Creek, then known as the Coleman ranch and now owned, I think, by the McKinneys of Bee county. I spent some lonesome days on this ranch, but I was getting well paid, as I was drawing the enormous salary of five dollars per month and my feed. I worked two years at this price and while the wages look small, I had more ready cash when the job ended than I had many times since, working for much larger wages. When I left the Jones ranch I went back to my dear mother, who still lived at Goliad. At that time she was in poor health and confined to her bed a great deal of the time, so I did the cooking and sometimes the washing for the family, while my two older brothers, Dave and Billie Porter, made a crop on land rented from R. T. Davis, my first employer. In the fall my mother traded her place at Goliad for what is known as the old Reed place on Goat Creek in Goliad county, where I grew to manhood, and where the happiest days of my life were spent. I was barely in my teens when the big Kansas cattle drives started, and, like other boys of that time, I wanted some of the experience of outdoor life, so in the spring of 1871, with a herd belonging to One-armed Jim Read, I bade adieu to the southern climate for a season and headed northward, finally winding up at Abilene, Kansas. After remaining there for a short time we got rid of our incumbrance, the long-horned steers, and turned our faces southward and in due time arrived safely at our starting point in Goliad county. Nothing apart from the usual happenings of the trail life took place on this trip. Abilene was a wild and woolly town in those days, at least it seemed to be to a country boy out on his first jaunt. There was plenty of game on the trail, Indians, buffalo, deer and antelope. The principal hotel in Abilene was the Drovers' Cottage, Mrs. Lou Gore, proprietress, which was general headquarters for all cattlemen. After a five months' trip I arrived at home pretty well hooked up, my earthly possessions being a suit of clothes, a pair of star-topped boots and two dollars and fifty cents in cash for my trip. Well done, good and faithful servant! I went up the trail three years for Jim Read and one year for W. G. Butler of Karnes county. When I was growing up I learned to play the fiddle, but there were only two tunes that I could play to perfection, one of which was "Seesaw," and the other was "Sawsee." Often I have taken my old fiddle on herd at night when on the trail, and while some of my companions would lead my horse around the herd I agitated the catguts, reeling off such old time selections as "Black Jack Grove," "Dinah Had a Wooden Leg," "Shake That Wooden Leg, Dolly Oh," "Give the Fiddler a Dram,' "Arkansaw Traveler," and "The Unfortunate Pup." And say, brothers, those old long-horned Texas steers actually enjoyed that old time music. I still have the old music box which I used to play in those care-free, happy days. My last drive up the trail was in 1875, after which I quit the trail, but never quit the cow-punching job until many years later. Sweet is the memory of the old bygone days. Many of the old trail boys have passed over the Divide, and it will not be long until we, too, will pass out, to give our places to those coming on. My associates on the trail, as I recall them now, were Emory Hall, Babe Moyer, Young Collins, Bud Jordan, Bill White, Hiram Reynolds, John Reynolds, John Naylor, Dave Porter, Bud Lansford, Ysidro Morris, John Young, Jack Best, and others. I was married December 10, 1878, to Miss Nelia Williams of Refugio county, daughter of Judge J. Williams, who for many years was sheriff of Refugio county. Three children were born to us, two boys and one girl, all of whom are still living. In 1882 I moved my family to Atascosa county, settling one mile south of Pleasanton, near the Tilden road, where we remained fourteen months, then moved to McMullen county, where we resided until 1912, then we moved to Brooks county, our present home. While a resident of McMullen county I served as sheriff there for eight years, and I am now serving my second term as sheriff of Brooks county. REMINISCENCES OF THE TRAIL A. F. Carvajal, 231 Simpson Street, San Antonio, Texas In the early part of March, 1882, Mr. Collin Campbell employed my brother to get hands and carry a herd of cattle to Kansas and Nebraska, and he employed the following: A. F. Carvajal, Miguel Cantu, Brijido, Don Hilario, Francisco Longoria, Melchor Ximenz, Juan Bueno, Anastacio Sanches, and a man by the name of Luna, and old Betancur, the cook. The cattle were gathered by Jake Dees and Jim Sutton, and we started from the Ecleto Creek, Campbell's ranch. We penned the cattle the first A. F. CARVAJAL night in Fred House's pens, and the next day we drove |