“Just as the head cattle came within about one hundred yards of camp at the foot of some high hills the blizzard broke forth with increased fury. The cattle at once turned their heads to the south and began to drift with the wind. I knew we were in for a bad night of it, and there was not a man in the outfit over 20 years old.”
George W. West
“We crossed the Red River into the Indian Territory at Doan’s Store, and here we struck the Indians by the thousands. We managed to keep peace by giving them a beef every day. They would come to us fifty and one hundred at a time. Some would ride with us all day and they always asked for a cow, which they called “Wahaw, Wahaw,” and, of course, we acted like we were glad to give it to them. We all had our guns and knew how to use them if we got in a fight.”
F.M. Polk, Luling, Texas
“In 1872 on the Smoky River near Hays City, Kansas, while with a herd of cattle we had a big stampede. While running in the lead of the steers I saw by a flash of lightning that I was on the edge of a big bluff of the river. There was nothing left for me to do but jump, so I spurred my horse.”
M.A. Withers, Lockhart, Texas
“The storm hit us about twelve o’clock at night. There was some rain, and to the northwest I noticed just a few little bats of lightning. Then it hit us in full fury and we were in the midst of a wonderful electrical storm. It first commenced like flash lightning, then came forked lightning, then chain lightning, followed by the peculiar blue lightning. After that show it rapidly developed into ball lightning, which rolled along the ground. After that spark lightning, then, most wonderful of all, it settled down on us like a fog. The air smelled of burning sulfur. It grew so warm we thought we might burn up with it.”
G.W. Mills, Lockhart, Texas
“I was just a farmer boy, started to church at Prairie Lea one Sunday, met Tom Baylor (he having written me a note several days before, asking if I wanted to go up the trail) and the first thing he said was, “Well, are you going?” I said, “Yes,” so he said, “Well, you have no time to go to church.” So we went back to my house, got dinner and started to the chuck wagon and remuda, which was camped six miles ahead. There I was, with a white shirt, collar and cravat, starting on the trail. You can imagine just how green I was.”
W.B. Hardeman, Devine, Texas
“Like most of the boys of the early days, I had to sow my wild oats, and I regret to say that I also sowed all of the money I made right along with the oats.”
S.B. Brite, Pleasanton, Texas
“In the latter part of 1889, a then noted frontier officer by the name of Pat Garrett was detailed to bring “The Kid” in, dead or alive, and as he knew our boys had been bothered a great deal and had lost several cattle, he came to our camp for help. I was detailed as one of the posse to go with Garrett, and we finally located the outlaw in a ranch house about forty miles from White Oaks.”
Fred E. Sutton of Oklahoma City, Okla.
“When we arrived within eight or ten miles of Dodge City, a beautiful city, situated on the north bank of the Arkansas River and about one month’s drive from Red River, we could see about fifty different trail herds grazing up and down the valley of the Arkansas River.”
S.H. Woods, Alice, Texas
“May we not venture to predict that in another sixty years somebody will have established a trail to Mars or other planets, and our descendants may be signaling the latest market quotations to the cowmen of those parts.”
William J. Bennett, Pearsall, Texas
