both from exhaustion and cattle thieves who would cut the line between the riders, who were often necessarily several miles apart, and get away with them as they were never followed on account of scarcity of men. These thieves were generally Mexicans, but sometimes Indians and white men. When we reached the Rio Grande we laid over a couple of days to rest and graze, while some of the boys were sent down the river to Dona Ana and vicinity, to pick up stolen cattle he had previously lost. For some reason or other I was generally made "side boss" on these trips, so taking four men we left early in the morning and began to round up at Dona Ana in the afternoon and we had picked up nearly fifty head, 'nearly all work oxen, and started back with them when we were followed and attacked by a bunch of Mexicans. We had seen them coming and rode back to a gully where we dismounted. They could see us and came at us on a charge, yelling and shooting. Our first volley scattered them and drove them back. It seems that some soldiers from Ft. Sheldon were with the Mexicans and two of them got hurt or were killed, for the next day an officer and ten men came to us while we were crossing the river to inquire into the occurrence. He was shown the cattle we had brought in, all bearing the same brand and earmark as the balance of the herd and informed that they were stolen cattle belonging to Mr. Chisum, with whom he had been conversing. He said that after the fight it had been reported to the post commander that it was cattle thieves who had taken the oxen and the Mexicans had followed to recover them when they were attacked and seven killed and two soldiers badly wounded. The soldiers had no right to be with them, but were courting some Mexican girls and were induced by the Mexicans to go with them, not thinking of having a fight. I quit the outfit when we reached the San Simon in Arizona, thirty-five miles from our destination, which was Croton Springs, in Sulphur Springs valley, and where I again worked for Chisum in 1878, "circling and signing" and guarding his range from the point of Pinal Mountains on the north to about where Pierce is now on the south, from the Dragoon Mountains on the west, to the Chiricahua Mountains on the east. It would require too much space to relate the incidents that transpired in connection with our lives the short time I worked there, but all will be told in detail in a book I hope to have published in 1924. In the latter years I served as a special ranger in Companies D and F, Texas Frontier Battalion, and U. S. Deputy Marshal and also deputy sheriff and other official positions on the frontier. This service was from 1881 to 1889. I have met most of the so-called outlaws and bad men who ranged in Texas, New Mexico and Arizona from 1865 to 1890 and never knew but one but what had some good traits about him. On the other hand I have known some so-called good men and officers with some very bad traits about them. I married in San Antonio in 1885 and have two boys and a girl dead and three daughters living. They are, Mrs. William E. Lea, of Sanderson, Texas; Mrs. A.. M. Preston who was with her husband in France and Mrs. Robert C. Courtney of Del Rio, Texas. Now at the age of sixty-eight years I am still hale and hearty and square with my fellowmen, but owe much to God for keeping me and mine. GOT A TAIL-HOLD AND HELD ON R. F. Galbreath, Devine, Texas In 1873 I helped to drive the second herd of cattle out of Medina county for Lytle and McDaniel, from Haby's ranch above Castroville to Ellsworth, Kansas. We crossed the Guadalupe at New Braunfels, and went on by San Marcos, Austin and Fort Worth, crossed Red River at Red River Station, and on to Pond Creek, where the Indians killed a man named Chambers, who was in charge of a herd belonging to Jim Tucker, of Frio county. I and Jim Neal, Hyge Neal, C. K. Perkins and others helped to bury Chambers at Pond Creek. Then we drove on up to Russell, Kansas, on the Smoky River above Ellsworth, and from there I went with another herd to Cheyenne, Wyoming. We were near Big Spring on the Platte River when Sam Bass and Joel Collins made the big haul in a train robbery there. I knew them both well. Collins and another of the robbers were killed at Buffalo Station, in Nebraska, and Bass was killed at Round Rock, Texas. R. F. GALBREATH Our outfit consisted of Bill McBee, Quiller Johnson, Bill Henson, Jim Berrington, and three negroes. All are dead now except Bill McBee and myself. Bob Trimble was our boss. He was killed a few years afterward by Joe Cordova, who was hanged in Bexar county jail for murder. In 1877 I helped to drive a herd to Dodge City, Kansas, for Lytle and McDaniel. James McClusky was our boss. On that trip I met up with Mack Stewart, who served ten years in a Mexican prison, and afterward died near Dallas. In 1895 I helped to drive a herd from Garza county to Wyoming for A. J. and F. M. Long of Sweetwater. John Goggan was our boss. On the first trip mentioned in this story Quill Johnson, Bill McBee and myself crossed Red River on a ferry boat. Tony Williams, a negro, was riding a mule, and swam with the cattle to point the herd. The waves were so high Tony was swept off his mule, and we thought he was gone, but in a little while we discovered him holding on to the tail of a big beef steer, and when the steer went up the bank Tony was still holding on and went with him. THE POET OF THE RANGE C. C. Walsh of San Angelo, Texas, is known all over the southwest and western parts of Texas as the poet of the range. When he meets a man whose character impresses him he studies the man and the man's character. Idiosyncrasies of his speech, peculiarities of expression, distinguishing facial features-all of these are within the purview of the studies of Col. Walsh, the banker and student of men. Then he writes the man he has studied into a poem and poems he has written will preserve a race of men rapidly passing from the range and from existence. The West Texas cowman's folk life is a hobby with him. He believes the Texas cowman to be one of the noblest American type. Their brogue, their mannerisms, their ideals and their shortcomings are his study book and he has faithfully incorporated them into poems, one of which follows: THE OLD "SQUARE DANCE" OF THE WESTERN RANGE Imagination-one't I had! I hain't got none no more. With cowboys thar in highheeled boots, A kickin' up, my law! While that old fiddle played, I think, "Twas "Turkey in th' straw." That old square dance we used t' see- While folks frum near an' far Cum driftin' in fur miles around, All laughin', happy, bright an' gay The glow of health, an' pride of strength, Unto them rugged boys an' ghels The old square dance of Airley Days Thar wuz no vulgar stunts pulled off- Which flows through pleasaint shady dells, 'Mid innercence an' purity, Tha danced each merry run. Bill, sumtimes, when I shet my eyes, I see ole "Uncle Jimmie" Jones |