Captain Jeff
--- or ---
Frontier Life in
--- WITH THE ---
---
Some Unwritten History and Facts in the Thrilling
Experiences of
Frontier Life. – The
Noted Kiowa Chief. – The Mortally Wounding and
Dying Confession of “Old Jape,” the Comanche,
the Most
Noted and Bloodthirsty
Savages that Ever Depredated on
The Frontier of
---
By One of the Nine
A Member of Company “E”
___
1906
WHIPKEY PRINTING CO.
PREFACE.
---
As
this narrative records the killing the two “Big Foot” Indians it is due to the
reader that I give dates of killings, and the sections of country where their
depredations took place.
“Big
Foot” first mentioned operated west of San Antonio, over the counties of Bexar,
Medina, Frio, Uvalde, Nueces, and elsewhere, and was killed by Captain William
(Big Foot) Wallace in 1853. His tribe is
unknown.
Big
Foot No. 2 was killed by Captain W. J. Maltby, known as Captain Jeff, Commander
of Company E, Frontier Battalion Texas Rangers, in the year of 1874. Big Foot No. 2 depredated over the countries
of Callahan, Coleman, Brown, Llano, Mason, Burnett, Lampasas and
Publisher’s Notice.
---
This
book is written by Capt. W. J. Maltby, a noted Pioneer, Frontiersman and Texas
Ranger, who did more service on the Frontier of Texas than any living man;
commanding Texas Rangers nine years, and finally destroying the worst band of
Indians that ever depredated on the frontier of
The
story is one continued thrilling incident after another from start to finish,
which holds the attention of lovers of fiction, romance and facts, and verifies
the statement that facts are stranger than fiction, when told in the style of
the author, with his ready wit and great store of humor.
This
book pays a just and noble tribute to all who took part in the frontier life of
All
should read “Captain Jeff,” because it gives facts as they occurred and a
truthful statement found in no other history or writings, and all the
tediousness has been eliminated and the story told in a brief, simple and
convincing manner, which makes it a book of value to all.
This
book will be of inestimable value to every citizen of
The
first edition was quickly exhausted, and no doubt this second edition will be
sold as rapidly.
The
price in paper binding is 50 cents and in cloth $1.00 15 cents extra on each
copy when sent by mail. The book can be
obtained of N. C. Bawcom,
Respectfully,
N.
C. BAWCOM,
Agent
and Manager,
INDEX.
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CAPTAIN
JEFF
CHAPTER I.
Capt.
Jeff Resigned his Commission as Captain of
Volunteer
Infantry, McCullough’s Brigade,
Went to his home in Burnett Co. Texas.
---
On
February 19th, 1863, two horsemen were seen winding their way
carefully through a creek bottom that was completely covered with water for a
distance of one and a half miles in width, and ever and anon a plunge into
swimming water would be taken as they came to the depressions, or the sloughs,
that ran through the bottom; this was on the road that leads from Pine Bluff,
Ark., to Austin, Texas. Gen. John B.
Walker’s Division of Confederate Soldiers had gone in to winter quarters near
They
put up that night at Farmer Jack McClure’s, seventeen miles from Gen. Walker’s
camp. On making the inquiry we find that
one of them is Captain Jeff, who had been in command of Company “E,”
Seventeenth Texas Volunteer Infantry, commanded by R. T. P. Allen; G. W. Jones,
Lieut. Col. The other man is Lieut. D.
Reed, as traveling companion.
On
making further inquiry we find that on February 18th, the day before
this story commences, that Captain Jeff was regimental officer of the day, and
on being relieved from duty that evening he went to Dr. Deport Smith’s tent –
Dr. Smith was the head of the medical board.
The doctor said to him: “Captain, if you are alive in the morning, I
want you to write out your resignation and bring it to me, and I will put a
certificate to it that will take you out of this service at once. There is but one thing that may prolong our
life for an indefinite time, and that is the life giving atmosphere of Western
Texas;” to which the captain replied: “Well Doctor, I have great faith and
respect for you as a doctor, but I have no fears of dying, being killed or
drowning. Some wise man said, ‘there is
a Fate that shapes our ends,’ etc. and something seems to tell me that I have
something to live for; it may be something very commonplace; however, I will
live to perform it. It seems to be in
the dim future to me, but that I will live to perform whatever it maybe, I
haven’t the least doubt.”
As
this is the man we are to follow as the hero of this little book, it is due the
reader to give a short description of his personal appearance. He was born in
The
second and succeeding days of his and Lieut. Reed’s travels were a repetition
of the first, plunging and swimming creeks, bayous and sloughs until they
crossed the Trinity River some four hundred miles from where they started,
which almost demonstrates that he had something to live for, or he never could
have performed this journey at this inclement season of the year on horseback,
and we may say with but little, if any change of apparel. But overcoming all obstacles that lay in his
path, he accomplished the distance of six hundred miles to his home in
twenty-five days, where he found his true and devoted wife and two sweet
children, Jeff and Mollie, in the best of health. Here, the writer’s pen is inadequate to
portray the happiness of that little family, so we leave the good wife and
mother to fix up little dainties and nick-nacks to
tempt the appetite, tone up the stomach and help nature to give back life and
strength to the worn and weary soldier, while little Jeff and Mollie climb on
his knee, put their arms around his neck and exclaim: “My papa, my papa!” While we call on Dr. Wilson Barton, and ask
him to go and lend his medical skill to make that little family completely
happy, which the good doctor joyously and willingly did, and under his skillful
treatment, coupled with the kind nursing of his wife and the prattle of little
Jeff and Mollie, our subject soon regained his health and vigor. So on
During
the years of 1862 and 1863 the Indians had become more troublesome than ever
before, from its first settlement, and it was much feared that they would rob
the settlers of all their work-stock until there would not be teams left to
make bread for the women and children.
As
With
a smile of approval and a manly shake of the hand, the Colonel said: “Go, and
God be with you and give victory to the right.”
The
Captain lost no time in going home and organizing the company as he was
ordered, and none too soon, for three days after the organization. Big Foot and his band made a raid into
Captain Jeff’s settlement, and stole most of the best work horses and mules,
and Big Foot had the audacity to go into the orchards and gather fruit so that
his tracks could be seen by any one as a banter,
“catch me if you can.” Could his ears
have been properly opened, a “still small voice” would have whispered to him
“Captain Jeff lives, and he will live until you have to meet him “Captain Jeff
lives, and he will live until you have to meet him face to face. You may leave misery and desolation in your
path, for many moons, or even years, but the fates have decreed that he shall
hunt you down at last, and while your spirit is taking its departure from this
earth, where you have caused so much suffering and sorrow, he will be riding at
the head of his gallant Ranger boys to carry the news that Big Foot’s raids are
at an end, and that he met the reward that was decreed to him by Fate.”
The
next morning by early breakfast couriers began to arrive at Captain Jeff’s with
the exciting news that last night Big Foot had raided the entire neighborhood
and stolen several of the neighbors’ best horses and mules.
The
Captain at once dispatched the couriers in different directions to notify his
company to rendezvous at a certain point in which the Indian trails led off and
to bring as much bread as they could conveniently carry, and some salt. This was the standing order for rations ever
afterwards. So by
But
as Big Foot and band had good fat, corn-fed horses to change upon, they gained
rapidly upon their pursuers, and, after four days of hard pursuit, the word
“half” was given; the trail was abandoned and Captain Jeff’s cherished hope of
a deadly encounter with Big Foot was deferred to an indefinite time.
The
dazed and worried expressions of the men’s faces for six long days as they
wended their way back, was distressing indeed, they having accomplished nothing
but to find out and fully locate the trail that Big Foot and band had in the
last twelve months driven thirteen droves of horses across the same crossing of
the San Saba River. After ten days they
reached home, horses and men badly jaded, as the men had not eaten anything for
the last six days but meat, salt and water.
Before
the Captain disbanded his men he told them to get their horses in as good shape
as possible, and to have everything in readiness for the next light moon, for
said he: “The next time Big Foot raids this country I will beat him to that
crossing on the San Saba, and there lie in wait and snuff out his light, or die
in the attempt, God helping me.”
So
with sullen and sad countenances they bid each other adieu for the time being,
not knowing that they were destined to realize more such sad experiences before
the wily Big Foot, chief of the Kiowa tribe, was outgeneraled by his determined
adversary, as the sequel will prove.
When
the Captain made the vow to his men that the next time Big Foot made a raid he
would beat him to that crossing on the San Saba, or die in the attempt, he did
not know how soon he would be called upon to fulfill that vow, nor the trying
circumstances under which it was to be performed.
As
he had a fine stock of horses and the Indians were getting more or less of them
every light moon, he decided to gather them and drive them to Caldwell Country
below the line of Indian raids. So, the
last day he gathered horses was on Sunday.
He rode hard all that day and got home just at sundown, unsaddled he
horse and staked him out as he had no feed to feed him, and got back to the
house and ate his supper after which he and his wife walked out and took chairs
on the gallery.
CHAPTER II.
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Indian
Depredations Come Thick and Fast and the Big Foot Indian Kiowa Chief, the Most
Formidable Enemy of the Frontier, and his Wonderful Seeming Providential
Escapes.
---
The
Captain’s first lieutenant, John Owens, rode up to the front gate and reported
that the Indians had just killed Wafford Johnson and
family about one mile south of the Captain’s house.
He
at once went and brought up his tired horse, threw the saddle on and mounted
him, without any protest by his brave and noble wife at being left alone, and
as he rode off she said: “Jeff, go and avenge the death of those noble and good
people, and may God bless you and bring you safe back to me and the children.”
Such
was the woman worthy to be the wife of the man who was destined to rid the
bleeding frontier of the State of
As
Captain Jeff and Lieut. Owens rode off from the Captain’s house he said: “Now,
Lieut. Owens, our physical abilities will be put to the strain, I have ridden
forty miles today, we will be compelled to ride as much as forty miles tonight
to get our company rendezvoused in marching order at the spot where the Johnson
family were killed. It is ninety miles from
there to the noted crossing of the San Saba River, and you know at the
termination of our last scout I made a vow that I would beat the next Indians
that raided us to that crossing, or die, God helping me. Lieut. Owens, I will perform that feat.”
The
first house they reached was Alex Barton’s.
He had one good horse at his house, three other good ones in his field.
He
quickly saddled his horse to accompany them in calling the company together,
remarking as he threw on the saddle: “I will ride Kate to-night, and get one of
my horse out of the field in the morning to ride on
the scout. Poor fellow, he did not know
what the morning held in store for him.
Captain
Jeff, Lieut. Owens and Barton rode all night notifying and giving orders for
the members of the Company to assemble at the point designated, at as early
hour as possible, with arms, bread and salt.
At about
The
crossing on the creek was near the steep bank that made a part of Barton’s
fence, and it was very bushy, and just as they reached that point the Captain
said, “Stop boys, the Indians are right here.”
They suddenly halted, looked wildly around, and as they did not see nor
hear the Indians, they commenced to laugh.
The Captain remarked: “You need not laugh, the Indians are right here,
or very near here, for I smell them; this is not the first time I have smelt
Indians of a night when they could not be seen, and have proved it to the men
that were with me at the time.” So when
daylight dawned the Barton went out into his field to get his fresh horse to
ride on the scout, the revelations proved that at the time our crossed the
creek and Captain Jeff said that he smelt them, they (the Indians) had Barton’s
horses rounded up on the high bank in the field where they caught them. They went around and let down the fence and
crossed the creek at the same crossing that our party had just crossed. On examination of the tracks it was plainly
evident that Big Foot got Barton’s horses.
One of Barton’s horses was a very fine mare, gentle to handle, but not
broke to ride, and just after crossing the creek where the Captain smelt them,
one of them tried to ride her and she threw him, evidence of which the marks on
the ground disclosed; and they killed her then and there to let the hated pale
faces know that if they could not use her no one else should.
Had
Big Foot been a few minutes longer in getting to the crowing of the creek he
would have met his sworn and determined enemy but it seems that the time was
not full ripe for the final contest, so we go forward and chronicle the events
just as they transpire. The Captain reached
his home that morning just at day light and found his noble wife preparing his
breakfast with the full hope that he would be there in due time to take
breakfast with her, and rest for only a few minutes. The children had not yet awakened, so he softly
went to the bed and kissed their sweet and innocent faces, sat down and partook
of a hearty breakfast, put his arms around his wife, kissed her, and gently
patting her on the shoulder told her to be of good cheer, that in due time he
would return; that he had full faith and hope that “God would protect the
right.” So saying he walked out and
mounted his fired horse and urged him forward for one more mile to the spot
where Wafford Johnson and family fell brutally
murdered by Big Foot and his savage band.
In
twenty minutes from the time he left home his horse that had carried him
seventy or eighty miles in the last twenty-four hours carried him to the tragic
spot of the evening before.
When
he reached the place but two or three of his men were there in his
advance. Dismounting, he walked to a pool
of blood where Johnson had lain in the road.
There was Big Foot’s tracks plainly to be seen
where he had bent over Johnson’s body to take off his pistol belt and scabbard.
In
looking further over the ground, the road ran close by a dense dogwood thicket,
in which a noise was heard, and on further examination of the cause of the
noise, it was found that Mrs. Johnson as she ran her horse close by the
thicket, threw her baby boy of one year old in the thicket, with a mother’s
never dying love to the last, that he might escape discovery by the Indians,
and be found by some friendly hand that would kindly take care of her darling
baby boy. The poor little fellow lay
where he fell in the thicket all night, a prey to the wild beasts of the
jungle, with an arrow through his right arm.
His
uncle soon came on the ground, and took the little sufferer to where he could
get nourishment and attention. The
circumstances of the killing of Johnson are supposed to be these:
A
Mr. Whitehead, lived about a mile from Johnson. On Sunday morning Johnson and family,
consisting of wife and three children, visited Mr. Whitehead where they
remained until late in the day when they started home horseback. Mrs. Johnson rode with her oldest girl behind
her and her baby boy in her lap; Johnson rode another horse and carried his
second daughter, a beautiful little girl of four summers, in his lap. She was his idolized pet. She and Johnson must have been killed when
the attack was first made, for when found he had his left arm around her, his right arm had been used to defend her to the last
moment.
The
oldest girl who rode behind Mrs. Johnson, jumped off the horse and was not
discovered by the Indians, and she ran home, which was only some three hundred
yards from where the attack was made.
Mrs. Johnson’s horse ran some one hundred yards before she fell, her
body filled with arrows. Reader, my pen
utterly fails to portray to you my feelings while I have to chronicle the short
details of this foul murder that was blacker than hell itself.
All
that we could say was: “Go on, Big Foot, your day of retribution must, shall
and will come.”
By
the time the sun was one hour high the company, to the number of thirty men,
had assembled. The Captain selected
fifteen men with the best horses, and put the other fifteen on the trail and
told them to follow it for six days, and he offered one hundred dollars reward
to the man that killed the Indian that carried Wafford
Johnson’s pistol.
The
Captain’s horse was completely exhausted for the time being, but an old man by
the name of Baker offered him his horse, which was a good one, which he
thankfully accepted. The change of
saddles was quickly made, and mounting Mr. Baker’s horse, he said to the
fifteen men he had selected: “All that think they can ride ninety miles in the
next twenty-six or twenty-eight hours, follow me; for, God helping me, I will
ride it if I get there alone, and block Big Foot’s passage across the San Saba
River and kill him if I can, or be killed.”
He led off and all the fifteen followed him. They rode steadily forward until
At
sunrise they were again in their saddles pressing forward, and in half an hour
they struck the noted Indian trail that led through narrow gaps in the
mountains to the crossing of the San Saba River. The Captain was in the lead when they struck
the trail. He raised his hat and
smilingly said: “Come on, boys!” and rode straight forward across the trail,
which the men thought was a strange proceeding, for they thought he would
follow the trail.
He
rode steadily forward for one mile, when he halted,
and when the men all came up he explained to them what they thought was strange
in him in riding straight across the trail.
He
said: “Boys, when we struck the trail I could hardly keep from hollowing, for I
saw if Big Foot is aiming to cross the San Saba at his regular crossing that we
are ahead of him and time to spare; and if he is coming on the trail behind us,
had we taken the trail when he struck our fresh horse tracks ahead of him be
would have turned his course and crossed somewhere else. So it is good luck for us, but puts us under
the painful necessity of riding several miles further in making a circle
several miles further around to the crossing.”
They all agreed that he had taken the proper course.
They
rode steadily forward making a circle of the crossing and reached it in
twenty-eight hours from the time of starting, making ninety-five miles in
twenty eight hours without change of horses or a wink of sleep. And now with dispatch every thing was put in
proper shape to accomplish what they had ridden so hard for, should the
opportunity present itself in the coming of Big Foot and his band. Two men were sent back to an elevated spot
that commanded the trail for some distance, and Captain Jeff felt sanguine that
he, after another hard effort, had set the trap that Big Foot would walk into.
As
nothing further could be arranged or perfected, Liuet.
Owens insisted that Captain Jeff lie down and take a short sleep, for said he:
“No man living can stand up longer than you have; you have ridden one hundred
and sixty-five miles without one wink of sleep.
An iron will and a nerve of steel can not stand any more, and when the
critical moment does come, we want you at your best; so lay
down and sleep just two hours, and I will wake you up, and then I will lie down
and sleep till you wake me up.” Feeling
sure that everything was so arranged that should the Indians come while he was
asleep that they could not escape, he lay down and in two minutes he was sound
asleep, for the utmost of man’s endurance had been reached.
As
all the men had been instructed to sleep two hours alternately, Lieut. Owens
let the Captain sleep three hours, when he woke him. And when the Captain had bathed his face with
a canteen of pure spring water that had just been brought from a cold spring
that gushed out of the bluff on the river, he said: “Lieut., I feel very much
refreshed, and am in much better shape to tackle that Big Foot Indian than when
I got here. At all events, I wish he
would put in his appearance and let us decide the contest that must be decided
sooner or later, and he is not in sight yet.
I want you to lie down and sleep until I wake you, for I want you to
stand guard with me tonight a quarter of a mile from camp on the trail.”
At
About
Lieut.
Owens remarked: “Captain, that was well done. I think
When
daylight was fully come they fastened their buck’s legs together, hunted up a
suitable pole which they slipped through them and each one took an end of the
pole and they bore him into camp in the same manner that Moses’ spies brought
grapes from the Promised Land. When they
reached camp there was much wonder and surprise among the boys as to how such a
fine deer could be captured without the use of fire arms. Lieut. Owens replied: “We got him as Abraham
got the ram for his sacrifice, or in equally as miraculous a manner. It was sent to us as an offering for
breakfast, and if you all feel like I do, the offering is truly and thankfully
received.”
As
the camp was in good shape, the men rested.
The only thing necessary to make each of them half horse and half
alligator was just one more square meal, and that was plainly in sight.
As
Captain Jeff had only slept three hours in the last three days and nights,
sleep was absolutely necessary before food.
He therefore turned the command of the company over to Lieut. Owens for the
next six hours. He placed a rock against
a tree for a pillow, spread down his saddle blanket for a bed, told the boys
that he was going to sleep for six hours, and he hoped they would leave enough
of the buck for him a square meal when he was waked at twelve o’clock,
whereupon he stretched himself on his downy couch, and was in the land of
forgetfulness in two minutes.
Ah,
Sleep! Sleep, sweet sleep! What a boon
to us mortals! The iron
will, the nerve of steel must succumb in the absence of its life and
health-giving influence!
While
Captain Jeff sleeps to gain strength for any emergency that might arise, and
all the rest are put on guard or picket duty except two, who are detailed to
cook, let us take a peep into how Texas Rangers can cook good bread and get up
a good meal without any semblance of a cooking vessel.
The
first our cooks do is to make a good fire out of dry wood, and while it is
burning down into good coals, they proceeded to strip the hide off the buck;
they then wash all the blood off the hide and hang it up for a few minutes to
drip. They then spread in down and put
the flour, salt and soda in sufficient quantities to make it light and pliable,
they then cut up fine a quantity of the inside fat and put in sufficient water
and knead it well, using the hide as a bread pan. They then got some nice straight sticks three
or four feet long, the size of a man’s thumb, peel off the bark, sharpen one end. They
then take some of the dough and wrap it around the blunt end of the stick for
one foot in length or more, and stick the sharp end in the ground leaning it
the proper angle over the fire, so it will cook to a finish, the inside fat
that was cut up in the flour equally distributed the grease all though the
bread, and better bread could not be cooked anywhere or in anyway. They cook the meat with the same stick
process, only both ends of the stick are sharpened and the stick is forced half
way through the piece of meat and the sharp ends of the stick alternately
turned and stuck in the ground, as the case may require. In this manner a savory meal was gotten up,
and all the men in turn got a meal never to be forgotten.
They
ate and thanked kind
By
the time all had been bountifully fed, Captain Jeff had slept his six hours,
and Lieut. Owens awake him and poured water out of a canteen while he washed
and bathed his face and head, after which he said: “I am as hungry as a bear,”
and casting his eyes towards the fire he said that his boys in their feast had
not forgotten him, for there on a stick was one full side of ribs of the big
buck, cooked to a turn and two stickes of as good
bread as was ever eaten; and one of the cooks coming up with a canteen of pure,
cold spring water. The Captain sat down
and did not rise until the last rib was picked and the last mouthful of bread
was eaten. He rose, picked up the
canteen and washed it all down with a quart of the cold spring water; he then
began humming:
“The
Big Foot Indian, with his pretty little squaw, He can’t feel better than I do
now;”
after which he filled his pipe, lit it, sat down, leaned
back against a tree a perfect picture of physical manhood and contentment. After he had finished his pipe, he got up and
began to walk the camp. Stopping
suddenly where some of the men were lounging on the grass, he said: “Boys,
these things are getting very monotonous to me, and I reasonably suppose it is
to you, but let us bear it with all the patience we can for twenty-four hours
more; we may yet be rewarded for our perseverance, vigilance and patience.”
The
same routine of duties were kept up until
By
CHAPTER III.
---
The
Disobedient of Orders and the Timidity of the Women,
Doubtless Prolonged the Wily Chief’s Existence.
---
They
reached home the third day after they broke camp, and nothing worthy of note
had transpired during their absence.
They found their families all well, and no report of Indians. The next morning Captain Jeff mounted his
horse and rode around to inquire why his orders had been disobeyed, and why the
fifteen men that he had put on the trail with orders to follow it six days,
failed to do so. Their only excuse was, they had no one to leave with their wives, who refused to
be left alone. Mark the contrast between
those women and the wife of our hero on the same occasion, when she kissed him
good-bye, and said: “Jeff, go and avenge the death of those good and noble
people.” Had other wives been possessed
of the same spirit, the opportunity was then offered to overtake Big Foot and
mete out to him the punishment he so justly deserved for the base murder of so
many defenseless women and children. In
this instance, in place of Big Foot going out of the neighborhood the same
direction he went many times before, that went to the crossing on the San Saba
river, after some ten miles he tacked back due south through the cedar brakes
of Burnet County, went north through Llano County and killed two men that were ploughing, and leisurely went on and crossed the San Saba
river six miles above where Captain Jeff had been lying in wait for him twenty-four
hours in his advance.
The
disobedience of orders in all probability prolonged the wily chief’s existence
to an indefinite time to commit many more horrible crimes on defenseless women
and children.
After
this raid
We
return to follow Captain Jeff after he left his home on this occasion. His experience had taught him that it was
almost impossible to trail the Indians and overtake them, therefore it was
necessary to get ahead of them and lie in wait at some noted pass that was
known to be their passage way; so thinking the matter over as he rode, he found
that nine of his men lived in the direction or partial direction of one of the
Indians’ noted pass-ways. He therefore
pressed forward to the first and roused him up, and he saddled his horse, got
his arms and started with him, and they two rode to the next house, where the
same program was carried out, and so on until the nine men were in their
saddles and pressing forward to the noted Spy Mountain pass, thirty miles from
the Captain’s home, which they reached by hard riding at six o’clock in the
morning.
They
had no provisions with them, only what little cold bread that was left at their
different homes the evening before and a little sack of salt that Captain Jeff
always carried in his saddle pocket so as to have salt in an emergency, for
good beef could be obtained at any time or place, with nothing but the trouble
to pick out the size wanted and kill it, for the Captain’s Company held a
carte-blanche to use beef out of any mark or brand when in pursuit of
Indians. So, when reaching
A buch of cattle was grazing near by. The Captain ordered Bill Donivan,
who was an expert roper, to rope a fat calf for breakfast, for their appetites
were whetted to a razor edge, after their hard ride through the night. Captain Jeff had ridden fifty or sixty miles
from
Two
men were put on
As yet no indications from the spies. The Captain
told his men to cut and broil beef to suit themselves: he chose for his part a half side of
ribs. So in less time than it takes to
write it, sticks were cut and run through pieces of meat, Ranger style, and
stuck up around the fire that had been built at the start so as to have the
coals in readiness. The men were not
forgotten that were on guard, and two big, fine hunks were put up to roast for
them. The meat was soon cooked to a rare
state just to suit the taste of a Texas Ranger.
All the cold bread was brought forward, which was ample for one meal, and this meal of cold bread and broiled beef was
enjoyed as much as any meal that was ever eaten at the famous Delmonico
restaurant in the city of
Just
as the sun was setting the spies discovered a lone horseman coming through the
gap in the mountain the Indians were expected to come through, which was
quickly reported, and every man mounted his horse and stood ready to receive
the report of the lone horseman, who soon came up with the speed of a
frightened deer. It proved to be Rheuben Senterfit, well-known to
all our party as a fearless rider, and he was mounted on a superb West Texas
horse that had the wind and sure foot equal to any horse in the world. He reined up his horse and said: “Boys, I
knew you were here, and I have ridden for life to be in at the killing. The Indians left the trail south of the gap
and have gone south of you.” At that
moment he looked in a southwesterly direction, and said: “There go the damn
rascals now! Boys, look on the top of
that bald hill,” which was a mile or more distant from where they stood. He led, with all the others close at his
horse’s heels, in this race, the most headlong and furious riding that the
writer has ever witnessed.
Their
speed soon brought them to the top of the hill that they saw the Indians go
over. Here they halted, and Senterfit’s dog struck the trail and gave them the
direction they had gone. They looked and
discovered them below the base of the mountain, some half a mile distant, or
more. They were riding like dare-devils,
driving a bunch of about forty horses, over ground that didn’t look safe to
ride over in a walk.
The
plunge down that mountain in pursuit was fearful indeed. They reached its base in safety, and on and
on, with the same headlong speed, over honey-comb rock that did not seem
possible for horses to be driven over faster than a walk. The Indians saw that they were hotly and
closely pursued, when one of them cried out, “Jeffa! Jeffa! Jeffa!” at which time they
abandoned the horses they were driving and rode for life. That “Jeffa”
– “Jefa”,” “Jefa,” as they
pronounced it – struck double terror to their hearts and, if possible, lent
power to their exertions for safety.
But
our pursuers of nine men gained steadily upon the nine savages, and when there
was only a space of forty yards between the pursuers and the pursued two shots
rang out, and at that instant the savages disappeared as if the earth had
opened and swallowed them, all but two horses that were standing stock still on
the spot where the pursed had disappeared.
The
writer here wishes to explain the wherefore of this strange occurrence. Just as
the two shots range out from Captain Jeff’s party the Indians’ horses had
reached the very brink of a perpendicular bank of a deep ravine, whose banks
were all of ten feet high or deep; its bottom was covered with a dense growth
of small native timber, and its real presence would no be discovered until you
were on its very brink, particularly if you were riding fast and going directly
to it.
The
two shots fired as mentioned may have lent an additional impetus to both the
Indians and their horses in making such a headlong leap; be that as it may, the
leap was successfully made, and just at that propitious moment for the Indians,
the darkness of night spread her black mantle over the scene and heavy rain
commenced pouring down.
The
writer here wishes to ask, “Was this occurrence, and many more similar to it,
yet to be recorded in this little narrative of facts, (yes, positive facts,
that are recorded just as they occurred) providential?” Truly, I ask, “Were the Indians on this
occasion protected by a special
When
the pursuers reached the bank of the canyon where the two horses stood, they
could plainly hear Big Foot giving orders to his men in a loud, clear, Indian
voice. It would have been poor
generalship under the adverse circumstances to have climbed down that bluff,
where all would have been killed without ever having seen an Indian. They would have picked off each man as he
climbed down a tree, as there was no other way of descent except to jump down,
which last method might have caused some broken or badly strained legs; there
was nothing else to do but make virtue out of pressing necessity to provide for
the famished and jaded horses, only to draw off to a safe distance from the
Indians’ arms and to camp for the night.
A
beautiful little rivulet wound its way into the main canyon.,
up which he went some fourth of a mile, where he found good grass and water for
his famished horses. Here they were
unsaddled and picketed out, and five men, the Captain as one, formed a circle
or cordon around the horses, and the other four men spread down their saddle
blankets on the wet ground with their saddles for a pillow. They were so fatigued that they were soon
asleep and dreaming pleas and dreams in place of the exciting scenes that had
just been passed through.
At
:
First,
they went around the pass vs. going through it.
Second,
when they were run down and overtaken, we may say that the earth opened to
protect them and the horses, all but the two that they could not force into the
chasm, and they were worthless to them, as they were completely run down.
Third,
that in going six hundred yards from where two of them had to turn a somersault
over their horses’ heads down into the deep canyon, two good horses were
bobbled out and in waiting for them.
There was no management or generalship in these transactions. Reader, you are at liberty to call it what
you please.
“The
prospects to overtake these Indians, when freshly mounted, is
slim,” Captain Jeff remarked, as he was hesitating what to do. The Captain’s horses were badly jaded after
the hard run putting the Indians into the deep canyon, and had thrown every
shoe in the six-mile run over the honey-comb rocks.
After
a moment’s hesitation, the Captain said: “ Boys, the
prospect to overtake Big Food on these horses is gloomy indeed. We have no show whatever to get fresh ones,
but I am loth to abandon his trial without one more
desperate and determined effort to bring him to bay where he must fight for his
liberty instead of running for it. Some
small voice seems to speak to me every time that I have run him, that his good
luck will forsake him and fall on me, and that I will be the victor,
and this may be the day. If you will
follow me, we will urge our horses to their utmost in trying to overtake
him.” The unanimous reply from the eight
men was: “Captain Jeff, we will follow you to the end of the world to kill that
big brute,” to which the Captain said: “He has eight men, and he makes nine;
you are eight, and I make nine; so our numbers are equal, and should we
overtake them, each one of you single out your man. Remember, this time for all,
that I claim the honor to be his special antagonist until one of us fall.”
The
Captain turned his horse to the trail, and the rest followed, and the race for
the day began. They had followed the
trail about four miles, when they came to a fie horse belonging to an old man
by the name of Wolf, one of the Captain’s remote neighbors, but next neighbor
to some of his men. Here they found Big
Foot’s tracks again where he had lassoed another fine horse that seemed to have
been placed directly on the route, and just at the
spot that old man Wolf’s horse gave out.
Our wily chief had made four lucky hits in the last few hours, which, no
doubt, inspired a greater confidence in his braves and led them to believe that
he was a particular favorite of the Great Spirit, and that he could lead or
bring them out of all difficulties that
they might encounter while making war on the palefaces. This last piece of good luck for the Indians
added an additional gloom to the already gloomy prospects of overtaking them
that day, but they were determined to follow until their horses gave out. The trail was fresh until about
The
calf of the cow which the Indians had killed was standing near by; it was fine
and fat, and as the Captain’s party had not tasted food since the day before,
the cravings of hunger demanded that they should stop, kill that calf and eat
it, while their horses rested and grazed for a short time, if the trail was to
be pursued any further. They at once
lassoed the calf and carried out the program of resting and eating, which was
fully carried out for two hours from the trail if it was to be pursued any
further.
After
this the horses were saddled and the unanimous voice was to follow, as there
was one chance in a thousand that the Indians had taken so much meat that
should a favorable spot present itself they would stop and barbecue the beef.
They
passed forward all the evening through breaks, canyons and bluffs of the
The
horses were all turned foot-loose, two men on guard, one at the inlet and one
at the outlet; all the rest lay down at once to sleep. They had eaten but one meal in twenty-fours,
but they were more sleepy that hungry.
The two men on guard changed guards alternately every two hours; and all
therefore got a good night’s sleep and rest.
At
daylight all were up and ready for any emergency that might arise. At this time the most pressing emergency that
forcibly presented itself was to appease the cravings of hunger that were
loudly knocking and craving to be gratified.
There
was but one door open for such gratification, which was the usual one – to kill
a beef and make a meal of beef, salt and water, which was partaken of without a
murmur for something better. After the
meal was concluded preparations were made to take the back track, but on
examination it was found that the horses were so footsore they could not
travel. The Captain ordered the men to
cut up the beef hide and make a kind of a rawhide moccasin and tie the same
around the fetlock so as to come under the bottoms of their feet, which was
done, and they rested all that day at
Nothing
worthy of note transpired that day or night.
The following morning they got up their horses and saddled them and
started for home. If was then found that
most of the horses’ feet were so sore that the men had to walk and drive them
to get them home, which journey was accomplished in five days without any
incident worthy of record, only the worry and fatigue of walking and driving
the worn-out horses that distance.
At
home they found all well, and no report of Indians during their absence. They went to work with a will as best they
could to be in readiness for the next raid, which was as sure as fate to come,
since it was only a matter of time.
For
many moons the Indians gave Burnet County a wide berth, for they had found that
Burnet County was too hot for them; that they would surely have to “run the
gauntlet” if they made tracks in that county.
Big Foot changed his location to depredate upon.
The
next raid he made was on the west line of
The
next raid was still further west, through
At
the time the Indians made this raid Captain Jeff had been ordered by Colonel
Ford to meet him with his company on the
Many
prisoners were taken, whom Colonel Ford took to the
city of
CHAPTER IV.
---
The
Civil War had Ended.
Ben. Lee has Surrendered and Our Captain Jeff
is Hounded as a Wolf by Federal Soldiers, in which the Heroism of a True Woman
and Noble Wife Is Illustrated.
---
Shortly
after this the Civil War ended, and Captain Jeff and company were disbanded, as
all other men that had been in any was connected with
the Civil War. The State of
During
this distressing time she had all the burdens to carry that were necessary to
keep up their home – wood to get, cows to milk, stock to attend to, and, the
hardest burden of all, every other day she had to leave her two little children
alone, mount her faithful pony, take some circuitous route to some big thicket
with something for her Jeff to eat. On,
this was the most trying time to those good people that they had to encounter
during the almost five years since the commencement of the Civil War. One day she took her two children and went to
her brother-in-law’s, as was agreed upon by her and Jeff, where he was to be in
some big thickets that were near Allen’s house, and here he says he was the
worst scared that he ever was in his life.
He was sitting in a thicket: his horse was near him saddled and bridled
for use at any moment. He looked towards
Allen’s house and saw fifteen Indians riding directly towards the same. He said: “Oh, my God! What shall I do? Oh, my noble wife and
children!” But his mind was made
up in a moment. He sprang on his horse,
drew his six-shooter, and said, “Go,
A
mountain of intense anxiety was lifted off his breast; the Toncawas
had come into the neighborhood the day before, but Captain Jeff had not heard
it, and when he saw the Indians, he readily thought that they were Big Foot and
his band going to Allen’s house to murder its inmates.
Reader,
I feel that you will join me in thanks to God that this cloud had its silver
lining. The Toncawas
had a white man to go around as guide to beg watermelons; Mrs. Allen gave them
permission to go into the watermelon patch and they ate every one, ripe or green,
that was as big as a man’s fist. When it
was all cleaned up, they mounted their horses and rode off to hunt another
patch. Captain Jeff remained at or near
Allen’s house all that day and night.
When his wife was fixing to start home next morning, he said: “Mollie,”
(that was his wife’s name)
“I am going home with you.”
She tried to dissuade him, but he said:
“I can’t miss this pleasure to ride home with you and the children; the
Yankee soldiers don’t have horses that can catch
Front
gate was open, all the milk vessels left sitting outside where they drank the
milk, smokehouse door open and the big steer inside of it.
Reader,
how do you think you would have felt if you had been in Captain Jeff’s shoes,
with his pent-up feelings of disgust for a government that allowed its soldiers
to commit such low down petty larcency? Captain said: “Mollie, I feel that
1st. Looking back with the spiritual eye, I see or
hear some small voice say: “Jeff, go tell your wife to take the children and go
over to Mat Allen’s.”
2nd. I see that had I
not done so, you would have been here and subject to all the insults of a degraded
company of Yankee soldiers.
3rd. I see that in all probability that you would
have killed some of them, and if so they would have you a prisoner under guard
at the city of
4th. I see that we are both here with the
children; all well, that our roof is over our heads, and that we can get along
very well even with our loses, and I accept our absence from home at this time
as a providential thing in our behalf.”
After he closed this speech, she raised her eyes to his and said: “Jeff,
I didn’t know that you was such an exhorter only in
love affairs. I suggest that when you get
out of all these troubles and run down Big Foot that you turn preacher; all the
women will join your church.”
After
this little seemingly bit of sarcasm she said: “There are two sides to ever
question, and since you have argued your side I am more willing to be
convinced; therefore I humbly bow my head to the Giver of all good, that I was
not here when they were, and when I wanted to say something ugly about, them
your little lecture on the spiritual eye had driven all the hard words from my
tongue, and each moment I am more and more thankful that I was not at
home. You gave me a nice double barrel
shot-gun when we were first married, and you learned
me to shoot with it, and in your absence I leaned on it for protector. I have always kept it well loaded with buck
shot for big game like man, and I fully believe had I been at the house and
ordered these Yankee soldiers not to come into it, and they had attempted to do
so, that I should have shot and killed some of them, and you correctly drew the
picture, that I now would be a prisoner under guard and guarded by those same
despoilers of our home, and oh, God! The agonizing thought of being torn from
our children, and placed under guard and subject to the daily insults of, I
must say brutes in men’s clothing! Oh,
horrible! Horrible! With bowed head and
humbleness of spirit I join you in returning thanks to God for overshadowing us
by His providence and shielding us form bodily harm through all the trying
scenes of the five years.
When
the soldiers broke open Captain Jeff’s house they had four of the best men of
So
the days came and went for some ten or twelve.
When he had eaten his supper and had slept out in the hall one of his
neighbor’s boys ran by his gate on his horse, and as he passed the gate he
said: “Captain Jeff, the Yankee soldiers are coming after you; they are right
up there by your field.” The bridle was
slipped on and the Captain was in his saddle just as quickly as such a
performance could be done. As he rode
off he said: “Mollie, don’t be scared; I will go and meet them, and get them
after me and will then lead them off and prevent them from coming to the house
to worry you.” He dashed out through the
field in the direction they were coming, and when he got opposite them, he
hollowed and said: “Here I am; come and get me.”
Two
of them dismounted, threw down the fence and they all dashed over after him,
which was the very thing he wanted, as he had every confidence in the fleetness
of his sure-footed horse
He
turned his horse and rode back home.
After feeding his horse and resting a while he said: “Mollie, I have
stood this persecution as long as I can; I am going to
He
at once mounted his horse, and turned his head towards
CHAPTER V.
---
Captain
Jeff Surrenders to the Federal Authorities, in Which
the Old Adage Proves True that a “Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed.”
---
Wilson
Bratton was a perfect gentleman, a friend of true men and a merciless foe of
frauds; a man whose nobility of soul and mind deserves a monument, but whose
name and good deeds have been forgotten, except by those who knew him and
benefited by his generosity.
At
These
were the men that were selected to sit as jurymen during the examination and
cross examination.
Right
here the passage of Scripture was proven that sayeth
a man will stick closer to a friend than he will to a brother, in the devotion
of Dr. W. E. Jennings to Captain Jeff, and fully illustrated the love of
Jonathan for David as recorded in 1st Samuel, 19th and 20th
chapters.
The
camp was at a country school house; a sentinel was placed before the door; the
jury was called in and the rigid examination and cross-examination of Captain
Jeff begun.
The
officer had been selected by General Oaks for his fitness as a lawyer and rapid
penman, to go to Burnet and get the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the
truth in regard to the many horrible murders that had been committed in Burnet
County during the war and had been reported at headquarters by good loyal Union
men. The examination lasted three days;
the questions all written down and their answers. At the end of the third day the officer had
exhausted all his abilities and had not got one solitary crimination fact. He closed his examination and said to his
jurymen: “Gentlemen, I am done; I am satisfied; any or all of you are at
liberty to ask Captain Jeff any questions you may wish.”
Each
one got up and said: “I have none,” and stepped out with his tail down like a
sheep-killing dog, and all the rest followed but one old long-faced
hypocritical Baptist preacher, who said: “I will ask one question: do you
believe in future punishments and rewards?”
“I do, to some extent,” answered I; “I accept Dr. Dick’s definition of
such things,” and he said, “and who is Dr. Dick?” The reply was: “He is the most eminent
theologian of the day, and all ministers of the gospel of any note quote his in
their sermons.” He got up and went out
with his head and tail both down, which left Captain Jeff and the officer
alone, and he was so nonplused that he did not speak for some time. Finally, Captain Jeff said: “I await you
orders, sir,” to which he said, “I don’t
know what to do; there have been so many hard reports to General Oaks against
you that he sent me here to arrest you and some others, and to leave no leaf
unturned to prove your guilt. If it was
left to me, I would do as Christ did when the hypocrites brought the woman to
Him to be rebuked. He said to them: ‘He
that is guiltless let him cast the first stone,’ and they all sneaked off just
as your accusers have done this evening.”
“When I gave them the opportunity to question you there was not one of
them that had the courage to ask you a question but that old hypocritical
preacher, and the question he asked had nothing whatever to do with your guilt
or innocence.” He finally said, “I
suppose I will have to require you to give bond.” “Draw up the bond and I will fill it.”
The
bond was drawn in the sum of one thousand dollars, if called for in thirty
days; if not, then it was null and void.
The bond was filled at once, Emanuel Sampson as surely, and our Captain
Jeff was told that he could go in peace.
At
The
days cam and went, and when the clock struck six on the evening of the
thirtieth day and no call had been made
for him, he walked up to his wife, threw his arms around her, pressed her to
his heart with a fervent “tank God, my Mollie, we are free once more!” He had lost six years in defense of his
country, his home and his fireside; his good stock of horses had been driven
off by Big Foot and his band; his cattle was all gone but two cows, and summing
everything up he found that he had to commence again almost at the bottom round
of the ladder, but he had his noble wife and two lovely children, his good health
and a determination to overcome every obstacle that might lie in his path.
He
made rails, opened up more land, and as he was a good carpenter, all the
neighbors that wanted work of that kind gave him the contracts in preference to
any other, and gave him more that they could have got the same work done for,
as they were sure of an honest job. As
fast as he worked out money he invested it in cattle, and as cattle were very
low in price, he soon had a nice bunch of cattle, and added to this all the men
in the adjoining counties gave him full authority to use their cattle as he
pleased. This enabled him to make
contracts to put up herds of cattle for sale, and as his business rapidly
increased he took a partner, G. C. Arnett, who had been in his company in the
late war.
They
drove beeves to
CHAPTER VI.
---
Capt.
Jeff is Wrongfully Indicted by the Civil Law, for
which he Makes a Bad Break but Through the Christianizing Influence of the
Noble Wife he Guards Himself Against Like Occurrences
---
If
has been said by some wise man “that every sweet has a bitter,” and that
unalloyed happiness and prosperity and only last an indefinite period of time,
and such was the case with our Captain Jeff.
Federal Judge, Federal Prosecuting Attorney and Sheriff were appointed
for
The
paper were served on Captain Jeff and sixteen others; they all easily gave bond
for their appearance at court; they then employed a lawyer, the best that could
be found, to fight their case, turned loose all their business and stood ready
and waiting for the call of court. When
it was called they were all in waiting, and the State put off the trial till
the next term, and the next term was the same.
When the third term came around they were all in waiting and anxious for
trial, but the District Attorney was ordered by the Judge to throw the whole batch
out of court, and so they were deprived of a tongue revenge, for their attorney
was well prepared to show to the court and to the citizens of Burnet County the
low down villainy of the grand jury in finding the bills worded as they were
worded.
Here
the pent-up feelings of Captain Jeff for that grand jury could not be
restrained any longer, as he, with all the others had been deprived of their
tongue revenge through their attorney.
He determined to take revenge with his own strong arm, steady nerve and
quick eye. He commenced to drink, the
only bad generalship he ever displayed.
His friends, all those that had been indicted with him, and many more
crowded around him, got hold on him and be sheer force and persuasion got him
out of town, and Jas. W. Taylor, whom he loved as a brother got him on his own
horse and took him to Taylor’s home and kept him till the next morning. Taylor sent to town, had his horse brought
out and would not go through town as he went home, and that he would never seek
a difficulty with his persecutors, and he kept his promise with his true
friend, J. W. Taylor.
CHAPTER VII.
---
His
Wife’s Little Tea Party.
---
A
short time after his wife gave a little tea-party to some of her lady friends
and on this occasion she opened a few bottles of her pure unfermented juice of
the celebrated
She
filled her wine glass, rose to her fee, raised her arm
to full length. The thoughts uppermost
in her mind how a few days since Jeff came so near blasting his and her hopes
of happiness through this life, she spoke and said: “Here is to my husband; may he never get
tight, but tight or straight, my husband.”
The next one said: “Here is to our noble hostess; may her every wish be
gratified, and may we live to emulate her courage, patience and womanly
devotion,” and all the others said: “Amen, amen, amen, amen.”
Captain
Jeff was away from home for a few days on some business when this little
tea-party was given; before he returned he heard of it and the toast his wife
had drank to him; when he got home he said: “Mollie, open a bottle of your
grape juice; I want to drink to you a pledge that will relieve you of all dread
or anxiety that called forth your toast.”
She quickly and joyously opened the bottle and set him a wine glass; he
filled it to the brim, then raised his arm and said: “My Mollie, in this glass
of the pure juice of the grape I pledge to you, God helping me, that from this
time on that I will not make, sell or use as a beverage any spirituous or malt
liquors; that wherever I go I will keep this pledge to you sacred.” And in after years he made a tour of the
entire State of
The
first visit was to the Barton vineyard of six hundred and forty acres, with
winery attached, at which place they all halted and alighted and formed a
procession of twos and parched into a long room where was spread a long table
covered with snow white linen, wine glasses and all varieties of all the very
finest wines that California could boast of.
When they reached the table they filed right and left and moved forward
to fill up the table. When
the lead man reached the table he faced about so as to overlook the table and
all the guests. He said: “If
there is any one present who will not taste any of this wine let him hold up
his hand,” and in an instant Captain Jeff’s hand went up to the full length of
his arm, and he held it there so all could see who it was. The spokesman at the head of the table said:
“One hand up,” and Captain Jeff slowly lowered his
hand to its natural position, the honored hero of the occasion.
When
the wine banquet was over, the ladies and one or two of the gentlemen who were
strictly temperate, crowed around our Captain Jeff, heartily shaking his hand
and complimenting his for his courage and devotion to principle so publicly
explained.
They
said: “We were not nor did not taste the wind, but we did not have the moral
courage to follow your noble example. How could goy do it?” “It
was without any effort on my part; it struck my ear as a challenge to
principle, and in an instant my principle accepted the challenge, and ok, my
dear friends, I was rewarded for the act a thousand times more my feeble tongue
can express.” “Was the reward invisible
to all but yourself?”
“It was.” “Will you then please
give us an explanation?” “I will, and I
will do as fearless of criticism as I was when I held up my hand. The moment I held up my hand a angelic face
appeared to me as if suspended in the air in front of me and a little higher
than my head looking me straight in the eyes, and a heavenly radiance of
approval beamed from its every feature, and in that moment my stature seemed to
grow higher and higher and higher and the world seemed to be under my feet, and
I lost sight of the audience, the table, wine and wine glasses, and I can only
add that my feelings were earthly, but heavenly.”
The
party was banqueted every day for thirty days in making the tour of California,
and he left the State not knowing whether California wine was good or bad or
indifferent, and he says that alcoholic liquors is the best tasted of anything
that he ever tasted.
We
hope the reader will pardon this digression.
It seemed to be necessary in this connection to show up the firmness and
devotion of the man of which we write.
CHAPTER VIII.
---
Richard
Coke is Elected Governor. A Battallion of Rangers is Ordered. Captain Jeff is Commissioned and Raised a
Company, Goes on Duty and Renews his Pursuit of the
Big Food Indian
---
As
they were making the tour of
As
soon as it was known that the battalion of Rangers was to be organized Jas. W.
Taylor at once go up two petitions and got them signed by all the leading men
of Burnet County. One
to Captain Jeff asking him to take the command of the battalion, and the other
to Governor Coke asking him to appoint Captain Jeff to its command. Jas, W. Taylor went in person with the
petition to Governor Coke, where he met Senator W. H. Westfall and solicited
his assistance, which was the very thin that was uppermost in the Senator’s
mind in regard to the commander of the battalion, as he had been on many scouts
after the Indians with our whilom Captain.
Senator
Westfall got General Shelly, an eminent lawyer, to draw up a petition and
recommendation and got it signed by all the members of both houses of the
Legislature and all the bankers and leading business men of
In
conversation with Captain Jeff after the appointment, he said: “Captain Jeff,
you have the best recommendation in my office for the command of the battalion
that any man could have, and I have stepped over it, and I hope you and your
people will not think hard of me for it.”
The reply was: “You are our Governor, and it is your bounden duty to
render to all the people a just service as you may see it.” The Governor then said: “Will you accept a
commission as Captain of one of the campaigns?”
The reply was: Will the Governor give me three days to consider it?” He said: “Yes, as many days as you
want.” While waiting for the expiration
of the three days to give the Governor his final decision he received a letter
from his wife saying: “Jeff, do come home as soon as you can; that Big Foot
brute of an Indian that murdered poor Mrs. Johnson and her dear little innocent
children almost at our very door has just been here in the neighborhood, and I
am almost frightened to death for fear that he will come and kill me and the
children or some other good family.”
When
he had finished reading his wife’s letter, his mind was made up that here was
another chance open for him to rid the frontier of this dread curse that hung
over them like a pall both day and night.
He folded his wife’s letter, put it in his breast pocket and started at
once for the Governor’s office.
On
his way he met James Cornell, a man that had seen and done much service on the
frontier and was one of his particular friends.
He
said: “Jim, I am going to the Governor’s office to accept a Captain’s
commission in the frontier battalion.
Won’t you go in with me as my first lieutenant?” He said: “I can’t get the appointment.” “Come with me, and we will see.” They went together to the Governor’s office,
and Captain Jeff introduced Cornell to him and said: “Governor, if you will
give me Mr. Cornell here, as my First Lieutenant, I will accept the Captaincy
in the Frontier Battalion, for, Governor, if I accept a Captaincy, there will
be a great deal expected of me.” The
Governor replied: “Yes, more than any man in the battalion.” Here the
opportunity was presented to give the Governor a little thrust and the Captain
said: “Governor, you ought to expect the Major.” The Governor winced, for he felt that the
point was well taken; however he said: “Hold on here, a few minutes while I go
and talk to Adjutant General Steel about your First Lieutenant.”
In
a few moments the Governor returned and said: “You may Mr. Cornell for your
first Lieutenant, and you are the only Captain that will be shown that courtesy
after being sworn into the service.”
The
Adjutant General turned over to Captain Jeff a pair of mules and hack, loaded
the hack with arms and ammunition, and ordered him to go and raise a company of
seventy-five men, and to swear them into service, and to furnish them all the
necessary supplies and to go on duty at once.
As the country was overrun with Indians and outlaws, Captain Jeff and
his Lieutenant started at once with the arms and ammunition to raise a select
company of men and horses with all possible dispatch.
When
they got near the Captain’s home, they saw a man coming meeting them riding a
fine iron gray horse. The Captain said:
“Jim, if I did not know that old Selum was dead, I would say that man was
riding him; he has his every movement, and I am going to buy him, if he can be
fought, for something tells me that that is the horse that is to run down my
Big Foot adversary that has been so fortunate as to outgeneral me so many
times.” By the time this conversation
was ended, the parties met, and after the usual salutations the following
conversation was had:
“Mister,
how old is your horse?” “Six years
old.” “What stock is he?” “The best four mile stock that is raised in
He
said: “Stranger, that horse don’t live that is a better horse that this, my
horse, Selum.” “Is that his name?” “Yes, he was named after the horse that young
Scotch McDonell rode in the Revolutionary War in
General
After
reaching the Captain’s house it only required a few minutes to make a final
close of the trade, and he mounted one of the horses and rode off saying,
“Good-bye, gentlemen, and good-bye, Selum.”
When he was gone, the Captain hollowed: “Oh, Mollie! Come out
here.” After introducing her to
Lieutenant Cornell, he said: “Mollie, do you know that horse?” She looked at him, in perfect amazement, and
finally stammered out: “Y-yes, n-no; if I didn’t now that old Selum was dead,
that the Indians killed him, and you on him, and that you carried your saddle
home on your back, I would say, ye, I know him, that he was Selum.” “Well, Mollie, he is Selum number two, and I
have a commission in my pocket to raise seventy-five men and go Rangering, and I bought Selum number two to ride.” She exclaimed: “Why, Jeff, you have been a
soldier and worse that a soldier for the eight years, and I have been a kind of
a grass widow all that time.” “Say,
Mollie, what is a grass widow?” “It’s a
woman that her husband goes off and leaves her all the time.” “Then what is a kind of a grass widow?” “It’s a woman that her husband goes off and
leaves her most of the time; and when I married you, I thought I was going to
have a husband all the time.” He
replied: “Then I have been only a sort
of a husband a very little of the time.”
“Mollie,
you say, and correctly, that I have been a soldier for eight years; did you
know that No. 9 was my lucky number? My
mother was born in the year 1809, your were born in 1839 and you two are the
greatest woman I have ever known, and that I was born in 1829, that our boy
Jeff was born in 1859, and circumstances, it seems, over which I have no
control cause me to accept a soldier’s life one more year, which makes that No.
9. Why, Mollie, I used to play poker
before I overshadowed by your Christianizing influence, and whenever I got a
pair of nines I always stand in the Jack pot, and if I got the third one in the
draw I never laid them down.”
“On,
pshaw, Jeff, what do I know about such talk as Jack pot, stay in and lay down,
three nine, and so on? But if your
destiny was or is to soldier nine years, I hope kind
Lieutenant
Cornell remained at Captain Jeff’s that night and in morning the Captain told
him to go right on the Brownwood, Brown County, where he had lived for years
and knew every man in the county, and to pick twenty-five men and horses, and
very best that he could select: then the Orderly Sergeant and one duty
Sergeant, and you go on to Camp Colorado and tell Lieutenant Best that I sent
the same order to him that I give to you.
He can select one Duty Sergeant and two Corporals. I will pick twenty-five men here in
In
the short space of two weeks the company was rendezvoused at
The
trails of his scouting party could be seen in every direction which kept the
Indians from making their monthly raids, which gave the settlers such
encouragement that they wrote back to their friends in the other States to
come; that they had the very best of protection, which gave impetus to
immigration, and Brown and adjoining counties rapidly filled up with first-class
people, which greatly assisted in driving back the Indians.
CHAPTER IX.
---
Sergeant
Andrew Mather is Sent on a Scout into Callahan Co.,
Camps Near Caddo Peak. John Parsons is Sent out to Kill a Deer for Meat, Encounters Big Foot and
Band, Makes His Celebrated Shot and Big Foot Dodges the Bullet and Makes
another one of his Providential Escapes.
---
One
of the first scouts made by Captain Jeff’s company was commanded by Sergeant
Andrew Mather, further mention of which will be made as our recital
progresses. He was ordered to take
fifteen men and make a scout through the roughs of
Mather
hollowed: “Saddle your horses, boys, quick! quick!”
and in less time that it takes to write about it, the horses were saddled. By this time Parsons had got to camp, and he
fell exhausted for want of breath.
Mather said: “Parsons, did you kill a deer?” When he had regained his breath sufficiently
to speak, he said: “I did not, but I killed a ____ ____ Indian.” It is to be hoped that this rough expression
may be pardonable under the very exciting circumstances. Here we will let Parsons tell his own story
in as few words as possible before going to verify his statement. He said:
“I
was walking along slowly looking for cattle or deer and when I saw horses’ legs
coming towards me the limbs of the trees came down so low that I could not see
the horses’ bodies. I squatted down and
when they got in sixty or seventy yards of me I saw that old Big Foot was in
the lead; in an instant I thought my only chance for life was to kill him and
the one just behind him, and I tried to say, ‘Now, Parsons, make the best shot
of your life,’ so I aimed and pulled the trigger, and I’ll be d—n if old Big
Foot didn’t dodge the bullet and I killed the one behind him! He fell forward, grabbed both arms around his
horses’ neck, then I run and hollowed for life.”
While
Parsons was telling his story some of the boys were saddling his horse, so then
they all mounted and went in haste to verify Parson’s statement.
When
they reached the spot, the mystery of Big Foot dodging the bullet of Parson’s
gun was fully explained, for just at the moment that Parsons pulled the trigger
Big Foot’s horse stepped into a hole made by some little animal,
that burrows in the ground. He
fell forward and come below Parson’s sight thus dodging the bullet. Reader, was this luck again for Big Foot, or
what? Parsons’ identity of Big Foot was
correct, for these plainly to be seen was his tracks where he jumped off his
fallen horse and ran to the assistance of one of his falling braves. From the amount of blood at the spot,
Parsons’ shot must have been fatal.
The
trail was taken with as much dispatch as possible, and in less than a mile they
reached the hard, stony and bushy hills just north of the Peak, where it was
impossible for them to follow the trail any further. Go on, Big Foot, go
on, there is a man on your trail! It has
been “diamond cut diamond” with you for several years, but the time will come
sooner or later, when your diamond will cease to sparkle, and its brilliancy
will go out forever in this world.
Sergeant
Mather’s scout returned without seeing or hearing of any more Indians. The next light moon the Captain sent out
Lieut. Best on a scout; he camped on the Jim Ned, above Old Camp Colorado. After supper the horses were all picketed
out, and the guards properly stationed; the men lay down, and some of them had
gone to sleep, when the Indians slipped up around the camp and fired into it,
yelling like demons. Lieut. Best sprang
to his feet and hollowed to every man to get to his horse quick, quick. He ran barefooted to his horse, and all the
men followed his example, taking their arms with them. Each one when he got to his horse began
firing as rapidly as he could in the direction from which the yells and firing
of the Indians came, which soon stopped the yelling and firing, and in half an
hour the camp was again still and quiet.
On examination the only casualty was one horse killed, which was seen to
fall at the first volley that the Indians fired. This small loss was lucky, for the arrows and
bullets flew thick and fast at the first onslaught.
This
made another one of Big Foot’s lucky escapes.
As the Indians had been driven off nothing more could be done but to double
the guards and stand their ground until morning. On examination of the surroundings of the
camp it was demonstrated that this attack was made by Big Foot and his band,
for the difference in the size of his tracks and the others proved it to be he without any doubt.
The Indians had tied their horses some distance from the camp and made
the attack on foot, and when their attack was met with such cool and determined
resistance they ran back to the horses, mounted them and rode off in different
directions, one of Big Foot’s tactics, and a sure one too, to prevent being
trailed or followed, for it is almost impossible to trail one horse any
distance, while a bunch can be trailed with all ease.
Lieut.
Best rode in a big circle, but could not find where the Indians cam together,
consequently he returned to camp without anything else to report.
CHAPTER
X.
---
Lieutenant
Best is Sent on a Scout. Camps on Jim Ned and is Attacked After Night by Big Foot and Band. Cool Bravery and Discipline Whipped Him off
With Only the Loss of One Horse, Shot Through the Heart.
---
The
next light moon Major Jones made his monthly visit of inspection and called on
the Captain to take scouts and go with him to
They
were then in a spot where there was but little grass, but remembered passing
over good grass some ten miles back, and were compelled to ride back to get
feed for their horses.
The
spot of grass was reached after dark, the horses were all side lined and turned
loose to grass, two men to guard them.
The
others built fires and got supper, but before they had time to eat it the
Indians, twenty or twenty-five in number, made a desperate and reckless charge
into and through the camp, firing guns, pistols and arrows, knocking the fires
and supper helter skelter, and yelling like demons.
They
stampeded all the horses, and drove them much faster than the men could run,
but the men ran and fired after them as long as the sound of the horses’ feet
could be heard.
When
they were completely exhausted, they stopped and sat down, come cursing and
swearing, and some laughing at the figure they would cut walking forty miles
carrying their saddles, etc.
When
they all had had their say, Captain Jeff said: “This is pretty tough on old
Jeff’s brag company, to go on a scout and be so badly outgeneraled by old Big
Foot that we all have to walk forty miles to camp carrying our saddles, but let
me show you how much worse it could have been.
You see how all of us missed being killed or wounded; think it over, and
you will say that was almost if not a miracle.
See, we are all unhurt, and will if possible be more determined to get
even with our Big Foot fried (?), for this will encourage him to hunt for us to
get some more of our good horses.
The
State will pay for your horses and as for me, old Selum will be back here
before morning, for the Indian that cuts his side fines and mounts him will be
a dead or crippled Indian if there are any trees near this place, for the horse
will run away with him and throw him against a tree or my name is not
Jeff. Boys, you won’t have to walk to
camp; old Selum will carry me to camp long before night tomorrow, and I will
send back horses for you to ride on; old Jeff’s boys are horse soldiers, not
foot soldiers.” When this last talk was
finished a distant rumbling like horses’ feet was heard. The boys sprang to their feet, some thinking
the Indians were coming back. As the sounds
came nearer and clearer old Jeff bursted
out in a laugh as the sound, tone and beat of that hoof was indelibly impressed
on his ear and nerve. When the running
horse came near enough to hear the Captain hollowed at the top of his voice:
“Selum! Selum! My boy.
Here, here!” A sharp, keen neigh
of recognition was heard in answer and Selum dashed up to where the men
stood. The Captain said in a gentle
tone, “Selum, my boy, come here,” and the noble horse walked up to him and put
his head over his shoulder, with a gentle whinny. The Captain then said, “Boys, what did I tell
you? See this rawhide tug tied around
Selum’s under jaw? Why, an Indian could
no more ride this horse with that tug than I could fly like an eagle, or knock
down a mountain with my fist!”
The
boys said: “We know that there is not a man in your company that can or ever
will ride Selum without his running away, but yourself, and we think that he
has made up his mind that no other man shall ride him.” They trudged on back to the temporary camp
feeling very much like foot soldiers for the time being.
Captain
Jeff mounted Selum and said, “Boys, while away the time as best you can until
tomorrow night, and you will be rangers again, and I will have you back in camp
in three days.”
He
rode off, and at
Sixteen
other good horses were purchased and the company was soon again in good shape for
duty.
CHAPTER XI.
---
High Water, Discipline and the Ranger Feast.
---
In
the month of August Major Jones made his regular return visit all along the
line, and on leaving Camp Company “D” he ordered Captain Jeff to take a
detachment of men and go down on Muke Water and buy a
crop of corn that was reported to be growing on that stream; so immediately
after the Major’s departure, the captain took three men and went at once to
carry out the Major’s orders. It was
raining a slow rain at the time they started, and it rained steadily and slowly
all the day and night.
The
corn was purchased and the little party camped in an old schoolhouse, and stood
the regular guard (as guard was never omitted with this company, under any
circumstances) the Captain always taking his regular turn on occasions like
this where the scout or expedition was few in number.
The
next morning it was still raining the steady, slow rain, that
had been falling for eighteen hours.
After a hastily prepared breakfast, the captain ordered “Boots and
Saddles” as this company never stopped for any thing when duty called.
Their
course was up Muke Water stream, which was now
swollen to a rushing torrent, and covered the entire valley from hill to hill.
The
Captain rode his favorite horse that had always been equal to any emergency,
and as they were all wet to the skin, he thought to try his boys’ luck in water
as well as on dry land; so he turned Selum directly to the road that led up the
creek valley which was completely covered with driftwood and water from three
to ten feet deep where the small depressions run into the main channel.
At
every plunge the boys cheered and hollowed: “Where old
Jeff dares to go, we can follow.’ This
headlong and reckless ride was kept up for some ten miles to where the road
leading from headquarters camp to
Here
the Captain found his company wagon and harness washed up and lodged against a
large mesquite tree, and heard at the same time a yell from the adjacent hill,
and on going to reconnoiter, he found two of his men that had been sent to
Here
the captain and his little party halted to assist his men and wagon to cross
the stream at the earliest moment possible.
About three o’clock that evening two men from headquarters camp rode up
and reported to the Captain that the entire camp was washed away; that one man
and six horses were drowned, and that there was not a vestige of anything left
in the camp, only the men, most of them with only their night clothes, but each
and every man had all his arms and cartridge belt, but no other subsistence but
air and muddy water. So
much for discipline. This company
could not be taken by surprise in the loss of arms for immediate use only by a
destructive flash of lightning. Let us
briefly explain: The horses were all
tied to a picket line, and a sentinel walked the line every night as regular as
the tick of the clock.
The
sentinel discovered a roll of water several feet high rolling down the entire
He
at once sent them back to the camp with orders to Lieut. Best to get a
conveyance and sent escort with the drowned man to
Turning
to the driver, the Captain said: “John, we want all there is in them mules;
keep up with us; when they fail, we will tie on to the end of the tongue with
our ropes, and pull the wagon at the horns of our saddles” In this way, double-quick time was made to Brownwood,
and they plunged into swimming water inside of the town, but they made a
successful crossing loaded the wagon with grub as the first essential, and were
on the road back to the camp before daylight.
In leaving
By
urging the animals to their utmost, camp was reached by
A
bountiful fire had been made in anticipation of this pleasant event, and the
beef was cooking to a finish. Reader, let your imagination picture this scene around this
fire. Each man cooking
his bread a la Ranger style. The
beef was now cooked to a finish, and here the most enjoyable feast that was
ever eaten was enjoyed by Company “E,” Texas Rangers, Frontier Battalion.
After
the feast was over orders were given to all to spread out down the valley and
collect everything that had been caught in brush and driftwood, and most of the
camp equipage was recovered, but badly disfigured by its terrible encounter
with a second Noah’s flood, only the equipage didn’t have a Mt. Ararat to lodge
upon. Everything that could be found was
gathered and the camp was moved to Mud Creek and remained there until the reductions of the battalion was made.
Thos.
Clark who is now a successful merchant in the prosperous and thriving town of
CHAPTER XII.
---
Sergeant
Mather is Sent on Scout in
---
After
the new camp was properly arranged Sergeant Mather was ordered to take twenty
men and go out on a scout in which the discipline of
this company is further demonstrated.
It
was standing orders while on a scout that the men were not allowed to shoot at
anything but an Indian, and when it was necessary to get meat the commander of
the scout should detail one or two men to get the meat while all the others
remained on duty. In this instance, the
scout was marching regularly along, when one of the largest (if not the
largest) gears that ever was seen in
The
bears hide was brought into camp, was stretched and hung up with but one hole
in it. The rope was hung up by the hide
with the marks of the bear’s teeth on it as proof of bravery and
discipline. This scout returned to camp
without seeing any sign of Indians. This
company didn’t keep its headquarters camp more than two months in one place,
and in moving always selected a camp so there was a mountain in four or five
miles of it, so that a plain view of the surrounding country could be had with
good field glasses for miles around. The
Captain selected at the start four men for spies that had no other duty to
perform. Early each morning two of them
would mount their horses and go to the spy mountain and remain on duty until
after dinner when they would be relieved by the other two, and this spy duty
was strictly kept up every day unless it rained all day.
At
this time the headquarters camp was on Mud Creek in
Sinclare’s
horse was hobbled, and just in the right place for them to take him along. Sinclare made
The
ground was wet, and the trail was followed at a brisk lope for about twenty
miles, where the Indians had halted within about one hundred yards of a man’s
house and in all probability were intending to murder the family, but before
they had time to carry that into effect, the Rangers came in sight.
The
Rangers did not check their horses, but charged right onto them. The Indians were so taken by surprise, that
they were almost panic stricken. At the
first volley of the Rangers one Indian fell dead and two more were
wounded. Sinclare’s
horses fell dead and the bow of the Indian that rode him was shot in two so the
Indian had no other arms but a butcher knife; this he drew and bending down his
head he dashed into the Rangers, uttering the wild shrieks of an enraged bull. He made one desperate lunge at Sergeant
Mather with his knife and would have killed him, but Matter was the best
horseman in the company, and just as the knife descended he threw himself to
the opposite side of his horse. Wallace, who received the blow that was intended for his rider.
The
knife was driven through the saddle blanket and into Wallace’s shoulder blade. At that instant the brave, devoted and heroic
Indian fell with four army six shooter balls driven through the vital part of
his body. As a deed of bravery, devotion
and heroism it was never surpassed, no, not by Arnold Winkelried. His devotion to his chief and his comrades
caused him to give his life to give them a chance to get away for when he had
made his mad charge uttering the shrieks of an enraged bull all eyes were
turned on him, and by the time he fell all the others were out of sight and
gone, as it was dark, and the timber and brush was thick at the place. As nothing further could be done in the
darkness and it was only six miles to the town of
Two
of the citizens of Brownwood, John McMahan and Henry Warmick
were going out to where the fight took place to bring the dead Indians in for
the people to see them, but as good luck would have it in this instance, the
orderly sergeant had been sent into Brownwood two days before on some company
business and he rode a number one horse, a race horse, that ran away with the
sergeant every time the company went on drill.
So the Captain called on the sergeant for his horse, a race horse, that ran away with the sergeant every time the
company went on drill. So Captain called
on the sergeant for his horse, which was cheerfully given, the captain saying:
“Sergeant, my horse will be back here in the camp before night, if the Indians
don’t kill him, for they can’t ride him.”
The
sergeant said, “No, the horse that can run away with Sergeant Matter, can run away with any Indian, even old Big Foot
himself.” The scout was mounted, and
waiting for Captain, as it took some little time for him to get the Sergeant’s
horse saddled. He said, “Sergeant
Mather, Sergeant Arnet, Albert Arnet,
Dr. King and Mexican Joe will remain with me; Lieut. Best, you go on with the balance of the men
and we will overtake you before you get there.
McMahan and Warmick remained with the Captain
who soon started on behind the scout in a road that led to where the fight took
place. The Captain’s party had not gone
more than a mile from
He
at once turned his horse to it to investigate it. All the others of his little
party followed him; they had not followed it but a short distance until they
were fully convinced that it was Indians that had returned to
Just
here a fine pair of U.S. red blankets were left hanging on a projecting limb, a
little further on was two Indian saddles and bridles left on the trail, and
everything they carried was throw down to lighten their load. Just here the Indians were passing near the
Ranger Camp and the Captain had completely run down the Sergeant’s horse. He said, “Boys, they will go through Santa
Anna Gap. Keep on after them, and I will
go by the camp and get a fresh horse and meet you in the Gap.”
When
he reached the Gap his men had just passed through and Mather was standing by his
noble horse, Wallace, coatless, hatless, and with his face all bloody from the
limbs sticking in it, an object of disappointment and terror.
The
Captain on his fresh horse soon overtook all that was left of his little party,
to-wit: Sergeant Arnet, Albert Arent
and Dr. King, he himself making four, but they dauntlessly followed on to
Robinson’s Peak in Coleman County, where the country is very rough and brushy,
here the Indians scattered, and their trail could not be followed any further. They had made the run from where the trail
was first struck to Robinson’s Peak, a distance of sixty miles, in seven hours.
The
party killed a calf for meat, and wearily dragged themselves back to camp which
they reached the next day sorely and sadly disappointed, for Big Foot’s guiding
spirit had carried him safely through another series of close places.
The
first thing that greeted the Captain’s eye when he returned to camp was Selum,
standing where he was fed. The Captain
dismounted and went directly to him, and patting him on the neck said, “Selum,
my boy, did you bust another ingin?” to which he
uttered his low familiar whinny, as much as to say, “you
bet I did.” The orderly sergeant coming
up to greet the Captain said, “Selum did as you said he would, probably killed another Indian, and came back to
CHAPTER XIII
---
Captain
Jeff’s Lucky No. “9” and the Promptings of the Still Small Voice Fully
Verified.
---
Lieut.
Best was sitting in the camp tent one night and the subject came up of lucky
numbers. The Captain said: “Lieutenant,
have you a lucky number, and if so, what is it?” The Lieutenant said, “Yes, my lucky number
all through life begins and ends with the figure nine. My mother was born on
1st
– Captain Jeff, 2nd – Lieut. Best, 3rd – Sergeant Matter,
4th – Corporal Sackett, 5th – Bill Williams, 6th
– Mexican Joe, 7th – Sergeant Arnett, 8th – Corporal
Henry, 9th – Bill Dunman.
The
list was made out and the Captain instructed the Lieutenant to notify the men
to be in readiness to start at the appointed time, so at
When
they got near the Pass they saw a lone horseman sitting on his horse and they
rode directly to him, and when near enough to recognize him the lone horseman
hollowed “Hello! Captain! You are the
very man of all men that I wanted to see at this time.” The Captain replied, “Well, Jim, I am glad
that I can be of service to you; what is wanted?” “The Indians, old Big
foot and band, stole a lot of horses yesterday in San Saba County near my place
and my race horse, Gray Eagle, with the rest.
I at once mounted this pony and took the trail with the hope that I
might meet you or have a chance to send you word. I rode the trail hard all day yesterday and
did not see anyone; when dark came on so that I couldn’t see the trail I staked
out on pony and laid down, and this morning followed it up to this pass. I don’t think they are so far ahead but that
you and overtake them before dark, but my horse Gray Eagle is good and gone
from Jim Brown and his heirs forever, for there is not a horse on this frontier
that can catch him.” The Captain then
said, “Jim, what distance does he run?”
He replied: “One-half mile,” to which the Captain smilingly said
(patting Selum on the neck) “Jim, if that is Gray Eagle’s distance, Selum can
run over him or pull his head off with a hundred foot lariat in one mile and
carry my weight, at which he laughed quizzically. “Very well, the proof of the pudding is in the
eating, and I feel that this is the day that I am to sample it after so many
trials, and to fully test your opinion of the speed of Gray Eagle.” He then said, “Boys, if we are to catch those
Indians we can’t stand here and talk race horse any longer, but get right down
to business.
Jim
Brown then said: “My pony can’t go much farther, and it is no use for me to
stat on with you. I wish I had a good
horse,” to with the captain said, “and if you did, we would send you back, not
that we doubt your bravery, for you have fully demonstrated by following and
camping on the trail all alone that you could be depended on; we have made this
a special scout on nine men and we do not want any more.” “Then the captain said, “Joe, take the trail
and make this the best effort of your life,” which he did, keeping in a brisk
trot or lope the entire day, with the exception of a short halt at three o’clock
to eat a hasty lunch, and to rest and graze the horses for the onward pursuit.
At
four o’clock they were again in the saddles and the same speed was kept up
until it was growing dark, when they reached the summit of an elevation, and
Joe came to a sudden halt and pointed towards where plainly to be seen was the
Indians’ fire, some two miles ahead under some large spreading elms on the bank
of Valley Creek, in Runnels County.
Here
a short consultation was held and they moved forward in a slow, steady walk in
single file, Captain Jeff in the lead.
As
they approached nearer the ground became sandy and their horses’ feet make but
very little noise. In this cautious
manner they rode up behind a clump of small trees and brush and to within two
hundred yards of the fire, where they halted and made a careful survey of the
camp. They discovered that horses were
tied north of the fire, that two horses were tied south of the fire, and that
one horse was tied west of the fire and that their position was east of the
fire. The Indians that rode the horses
that were tied south of the fire and the one that rode the one tied west of the
fire seemed to be on guard, as they walked about to the fire and back to the
horses, and their movements indicated that they were placed on watch, and the
horse that was west of the fire was from every appearance Jim Brown’s race
horse, Gray Eagle, and his rider was a woman.
The other five Indians were busy around the fire cooking beef which they
had killed when they made the halt.
There were others out attending to the horses that they had ridden
through the day. All the horses that
were tied around the fire were fresh horses for the Indians to get away on in
case they were overtaken. As they were
so busy cooking, our party saw that plenty of time was given them to mature
their plan of attack. It was plain to be
seen from his size that Big Foot’s horse was south of the fire and in all
probability his lieutenant’s also, as they two, with the woman, were on guard
as their every movement indicated.
Captain
Jeff, speaking in a low tone said, “Corporal Sackett, you stay with me, I will
take Big Foot and you take his lieutenant, and they we will capture the
squaw. Lieutenant, you take all the
other men and take everything at the fire and north of the fire, and when we
start, don’t hollow, let’s get right out; then before they know it, and now
go.” And the charge was sudden and
desperate in strict keeping with the Texas Ranger.
Let
us follow Captain Jeff and Corporal Henry Sackett while they charge south of
the fire after their select game, while Lieut. Best with the others charge north of the fire.
At the sound of the horses; feet Big Foot and his lieutenant sprang to
their horses, but before Big Foot could mount, Captain Jeff’s six shooter spoke
its voice of death and Big Foot;s
horse fell dead. Big Foot then turned
and aimed his Spencer rifle, but before he could pull the trigger Captain
Jeff’s pistol spoke again and it’s leaden messenger of
death went to the mark knocking the hammer off of the Indian’s gun and driving
it into his cheek, then glanced down striking him in the jugular vein and
breaking his neck. The blood spurted
high and Big Foot fell to rise no more.
His career of crime ended, and the warnings of the still small voice
were verified.
Just
at this juncture the Captain saw the glistening of a knife as the little squaw
cut the rope that bound Bray Eagle. With
one bound she lit astride the horse; she looked back with a frightened but
determined look, the light of the fire fully reflected on her features and at
the same time she gave Gray Eagle a sharp, keen cut with her quirt, and was
gone with the speed of the wind, but not before a keen eye had marked the
direction which she took, and the Captain said, “Now Selum here is your chance
to try your full mettle. The noble horse
seemed to know what was expected of him, and setting his eyes and ears on the
flying object he bounded forward as if to do or die in the struggle of speed,
blood and endurance. His rider held him
firm and hard so that he would not over jump himself at the start, for he had
every confidence in blood of man or horse.
The race was up one of the beautiful valleys of Valley Creek without
rock or bush and nothing to fear except the numerous prairie dog holes that
these valleys are noted for.
For
the first half mile Selum held his own with the almost flying Gray Eagle, and
each jump after that distance lessened the space between the two horses, and at
the distance of about one mile Selum had closed up along by the side of Gray
Eagle and his rider. At the moment the
little woman raised her arm to strike with the knife that she still held in her
hand, but before she could strike the Captain struck her arm with a sudden blow
from the keel of his clenched fist and the knife fell to the ground. He then leaned forward and straightened out
his arm to grasp the bridle, but at that moment Selum’s right forefoot plunged
into a prairie dog hole and he fell with such force that he slid forward on the
ground, and the Captain was thrown ten or fifteen feet in his advance and
struck the ground with such force that he was knocked senseless. How long he remained in that condition he
does not know, but when consciousness partly returned to him he raised himself
to a sitting position, wondering where he was and how he got there.
Finally
he rose to his fee and rubbed himself to see if he was altogether without
broken bones, and then everything came back to him, the fight, the race, and
his bending forward to catch the bridle of the “pretty little squaw,” and then
everything was a blank. After he recovered he looked around and saw his horse
Selum resting his weight on three feet, his right fore foot merely touching the
ground. The Captain walked up to him and
gently patting him on the neck said, “Selum, are you hurt?” He uttered his low peculiar whinny, which he
was accustomed to do when his rider petted and patted him. Captain Jeff then said, “Selum, my boy, you
made a noble run for Gray Eagle and his rider but the fates, in this instance,
as in many others, were against us, and I suppose we will have to submit to their
decision, and let Gray Eagle carry the little squaw to Fort Sill to report to
the Quaker agents that the big Kiowa chief did not get away with captives,
scalps or horses this time. Come on, my
boy, and we will go back and get the report of the boys, and I will eat some of
that good beef old Big Foot was having cooked for us, for he did not know that
there would be a ‘slip between the cup and the lip,’ but such there is with all
of us.” So saying, he walked back, Selum
following, limping along as best he could.
When
he got back to the Indian fire where the charge was made, all the other boys
had done their work and were anxiously awaiting his return and they greeted him
with a prolonged cheer.
He
said, “Bravo! Boys, I see you are all here, and I see too that Big Foot and
some of his braves are here, but they are hors de combat at last, and as we
can’t do anything with our horses here were they smell the blood of these
Indians, gather up a lot of that barbecued beef and we will go down the creek a
piece to where we can quiet our horses, eat something and all make our
reports,” which program was carried out at once. A camp was soon selected, horses cared for,
guards placed, supper eaten, and the Captain then said, “Now for the reports;
Corporal Sackett, as you went with me to the south of the fire, we will hear
your report first.”
Corporal
Henry Sackett’s report:
The
Indian that was on guard with Big Foot was allotted to me didn’t run and try to
mount his horse, but stood firm, and when I got in some thirty feet of him he
shot with his bow and my horse fell, and as my horse fell I fired at him and he
dropped his bow; (which was caused from Sackett’s first shot cutting off three
of his fingers from the hand in which he held his bow) when my horse fell I
sprang to my feet and he was running to the creek bank, and just as he was
disappearing in the bushes on the creek bank I took the best aim I could and
fired. I thought he fell forward, but
when I got to the place he was gone.”
Lieut.
Best’s report:
According
to orders we charged north of the fire.
The five Indians that were cooking sprang for their horses, two of them
fell before they got to their horses, the other three succeeded in mounting and
as their horses were fresh ones and good ones at that, they just simply outran
us. We tried to bring them down as they
ran, but we do not know whether we hit any of them or not. As the Captain’s report has already been
written in this connection, we think it just to give more than a passing notice
to Corporal Henry Sackett. He was a
young English gentleman, not only by birth and education, but a gentleman in
every sense of the word, and had been schooled in horsemanship in the “old
country,” in riding fox and steeple chases and was endowed by nature with all
the requisites to make him a dashing and chivalrous Texas Ranger. To the other boys who were to the manor born
such occurrences as herein recorded were as a matter of course as they always
run the Indians one way or another.
Next
morning on examination of the battle ground Big Foot and his horse lay side by
side, two other Indians lay between the fire and where their horses were
tied. On examination of the spot where
Sackett’s Indian went down the bank of the creek blood was found, and on
further search a moan was heard and the party uttering the moan was found which
proved to be Sackett’s Indian.
He
spoke good Spanish and asked for water which was soon brought to him. He drank heartily and it seemed to relieve
him.
Mexican
Joe was called up and he and the Captain (the Captain spoke good Spanish and
Joe good English) questioned him.
He
said that he was a Comanche and that the dead chief was a Kiowa; he said his
own name was Jape or Japey, but he could not be
persuaded in any way to tell the chief’s name.
He said they had left Fort Sill a few days before and that for many
years they had been coming down into the settlements killing, capturing and
robbing the settlers; that they were the party that killed the Johnson family,
the Blaylock family, Bill Williams’ family and killed Tom Milligan in Mason county
so near his house, and captured and carried Miss Tod
into captivity, and had carried one of Bill Williams’ little girls some two
hundred miles and hung her by the neck to a tree limb and left her
hanging. This proved to be true for a
party followed the Indians and found the little girl just as the Indian
said. At this juncture of his confession
Bill Williams drew his gun to shoot him in the head but he was prevented from
doing so as every indication showed that he could live but a few minutes longer,
for Sackett’s shot was fatal. As soon as
the breath left his body Bill Williams scalped him, and nobody could blame him
for it. Reader, would you deprive such
little revenge of that heartbroken husband and father?
Mexican
Joe scalped the others and seemed very proud of his trophies. The other Indians did not get away with any
horses save the ones they rode, so the Captain and Sackett had several to pick
from and they got very good mounts, and moved slowly back to camp, Selum
limping along following.
Cheer
after cheer rent the air when our little party of nine rode into headquarters
camp all well and sound in body and limb, bringing with them the trophies of
their victory at last over the band that had eluded their grasp so many times.
The
wiley chief’s arms and marks of rank were hung up by
his scalp as attests that his raids were indeed ended. His arms consisted of a Spencer breech
loading rifle, a Remington army six shooter, bow and
arrow, beautifully decorated, butcher knife and shield.
Ornaments
of rank – First,
breast ornament made out of the second joints of human fingers of
those he had killed in battle and otherwise to the number of eighty-two joints;
second, fine headdress of eagle feathers and white women’s hair.
CHAPTER XIV.
---
The
---
And
now, kind reader, the long and cherished object of this company was at last
accomplished, to-wit: the breaking up and partial destruction and total annihilation
of a band of the most successful, daring and desperate Indians commanded by Big
Foot, the Kiowa Chief, and Jape, the Comanche, who were protected and shielded
by the U.S. Government and its Quaker agents, knowingly or unknowingly, long
after they were placed on the Fort Sill reservation, and the government is in
duty bound to justly indemnify settlers for their losses of property and deaths
that they sustained by the hands of the wards of the government, the Kiowas and
Comanches, located at
Fort Sill in the Indian Reservation bordering on the line of Texas.
It
is now October in details of our narrative, and the weather is getting cold,
and our commander ever on the alert for the good of his men as well as the
public service, ordered a scout of twenty men, with wagon and team, for the
double purpose of making a scout and at the same time killing buffaloes for
their hides to spread in the tents to sleep on.
The
third evening after leaving camp on Elm creek some ten miles above where town
of
The
next morning the Captain left two men to guard the camp and took twenty men
with him and rode to an elevation that overlooked the valleys and there to
their delight was quietly grazing in the valley near them a large heard of
mostly old bulls, the very kind that furnish the best hides for what they
wanted.
Here
the Captain placed nine men under Sergeant Mather and ten under Sergeant
Moreland and told them to charge the big fellows and see which party could kill
the most, saying, “I will keep Bill Williams here with me on guard. We can see all over the country with our
field glasses.” And now, reader, lend me
your imaginations to help picture this never-to-be-forgotten buffalo
charge. Imagine nineteen young, dashing,
Texas Rangers, mounted on superb, fleet-footed horses, well trained to battle
and firearms each man armed with a breech-loading Sharp’s carbine and a Colt’s
army six-shooter, and each man ambitious of distinction and desirous of
applause. See them dashing down a
beautiful little slop for some two hundred yards with the speed of a hurricane
to a nice smooth valley that was covered with a monarch herd of buffaloes that
were so taken by surprise by the suddenness of the charge that they could not
run in any particular direction, consequently the Rangers had buffaloes before
them, buffaloes behind them, buffaloes between them, and hail never fell faster
than leaden pellets of death and pain entered the bodies of those victims of
man’s greed and cruelty. And now the
fight is on in earnest. The old bulls,
maddened with pain, lower their heads, raise their tails in the air and lunged
with speed and desperation at their assailants, but the fleet-footed horse,
quick eye and horsemanship of his rider includes the mad plunge in every
instance; finally some of the buffaloes lead off and the rest follow them. Each man then selects a fine specimen and
each pursues his victim until the nineteen selected specimens are brought
down. Bill Dunman,
not to be outdone, roped a fine one and tied it to a tree for breakfast next
morning.
After
the heard had moved off the ground where they were first attacked, two monarchs
of the herd that had escaped unhurt remained on the ground with heads and tails
high, rearing, pitching, sniffing, pawing and bellowing, as much as to say,
“come and tackle us,” which banter was more than human nature could stand and
our Captain did what he never allowed one of his men to do and go unpunished
(broke his orders). In this instance he
said, “Bill (to the man he had kept with him on guard), we’ll go and kill them
two big fellows that seem to be daring us; I will take that big fellow on the
left, his hide is mine; you take the other for your hide.” So saying, the dash was made, and in five
seconds Selum took his rider close to the side of the monster of his kind, and
a ball was driven into his body behind the shoulder, and another and another;
when the huge bull lowered his head and threw his tail high in the air and made
a lunge at Selum (such as no other animal that ever lived could make) the horse
was the twinkling of an eye the quickest; he raised Selum’s tail on his horns
and the horse and rider passed beyond his reach.
This
fight as is were was kept up with many repetitions of the first attack until
the Captain had loaded and emptied his six-shooter three times and aiming for
each shot to take effect just behind the animal’s left four shoulder. The shots were all fired at no greater
distance than from ten to thirty feet, and he was considered the best shot with
a six-shooter either running or standing in the company or out of it. So when he had shot the monster eighteen
times and he still fought as determinedly as he did at first, the Captain
became superstitious and thought the spirit of Big Foot or some other demon had
entered into whatever it was, and that it could not be killed, so he slowly
rode off and didn’t get the hide to adorn his tent.
By
the time he got back to were the slaughter commenced
the boys had all killed each one his picked buffalo and had assembled for
further orders. One man was dispatched
back to camp for wagon and team, butcher knives, whetstones, etc., and the
skinning was commenced and kept up until the wagon was loaded down with the
best of buffalo hides, and moved back to camp late in the evening. The camp was put in military order, which was
always the first thing with this company, whether there was danger of Indians
or not. A bountiful supper was prepared
and eaten, as their appetites had been keenly whetted by the exciting scenes
and labors of the day.
After
supper the Captain said: “Boys, it has been my painful duty on some occasions
to punish some of you for disobedience of orders, and I broke my own orders
to-day, as you all remember. I placed
myself and Bill Williams on guard while you were to kill buffaloes, and then I
left my post of duty, which is a very serious charge in military discipline,
and as there is no higher officer here to assess my punishment, I herewith
appoint all of you as a military court to pass sentence on me for violating
orders.” They all spoke as one man:
“Why, Captain, we all would have done what you did had we been placed in your
position.” But said he, “That does not
alter the case, an order has been broken, and the offender must be
punished. Military law and the spirit of
Christianity are strictly at variance, and all well-balanced and thinking minds
should devoutly pray for the time to come spoken of by the meek and lowly
Nazarene that the sword should be beaten into the ploughshare and the spear
into the pruning hook, and the man should learn war no more, but until that
times does come military low, like the laws of the Medes and Persians, must be ineorable. As you
all are in a position to practice the spirit of forgiveness, I am not so
situated, and as commander of this company, if I break my own orders, I must
undergo the same punishment that I would have been compelled to have meted out
to any one of you; therefore I put myself on solitary spy duty for two days,
while you all stretch the hides nad prepare them to
be taken back to camp.”
So
the next morning the Captain saddled his horse, took a canteen of water and a lunch
for his dinner and rode some two miles to an elevation that gave a good view of
the surrounding country, and with his field glasses he vigilantly scanned the
surroundings until the sun was set when he mounted and rode back to camp where
he was greeted by many exclamations of respect by his men, for in this instance
the lesson was fully demonstrated why the Captain had always exacted a strict
obedience to all orders, as that is the first requisite to success in all
military organizations, and that he had never demanded double duty of any of
them that he was not bound to perform if he violated his own orders. Then they all said: “We will all try never to
break an order under any circumstances; but should our human nature be too weak
to stand the ordeal under which we may be placed, we will never think it a
hardship or degrading to perform extra duty commensurate with the offense, as
you have so manfully and honorably explained.”
The
next morning the Captain carried out to the letter his duty of the day before
and his servitude for violating his own orders was completed. On his return into camp that evening he said:
CHAPTER XV
---
The Reduction and discharge of the
Companies and Fifty Men from Each Company in the Frontier Battalion and the
Return Home to it Peaceful Pursuits.
“Boys,
for my part, I don’t care how soon the order comes for us to be mustered out of
this service. We have accomplished the
main point or the particular object that caused me to accept a commission to
raise and command this company, as you all know it was to utterly break up Big
Foot and his bloody band of Kiowas and Comanches that
have been depredation upon our homes, lives and property for so many years, and
since the Civil War have been protected by the United States Government and its
Quaker agents, which is proven by the dying confessing of old Jape, and the
many nice blankets branded U.S. that we captured with them. I told my wife when I left home that my
destiny in this last drama of soldier life for the last nine years was to be
filled, and as the preachers say I was called to perform a certain work, and
that when that was accomplished, I would return to her and the children sound
in body and mind, mounted on my horse Selum, and would find them all well; and
my guardian spirit seems to say that very soon we will have an opportunity to
return to our homes and their loved inmates.”
The
next morning the hides were packed in the wagon and in two days headquarters
camp was reached, and as the Captain had predicted, there was an order from the
Adjutant General’s office to Captain Jeff to leave twenty-five men in charge of
Second Lieutenant Foster and to report to Adjutant General’s office with the
balance of the company for final settlement.
The
next day the men were given an opportunity to volunteer to stay and only
twenty-five would stay. The next thing
was an equal distribution of the trophies taken in battle. The next day the men were given an
opportunity to volunteer to stay and only twenty-five would stay. The next thing was an equal distribution of
the trophies taken in battle. The
Captain put them up in separate articles to the highest bidder, only members of
the company being allowed to bid, he excluding himself from the contest,
although he very much wanted Big Foot’s paraphernalia, and he said long
afterwards that he would have willingly bid one hundred dollars for them, but
he did not want his men to know that he would take advantage of them by being
able to outbid them. The sales were all
made and they amounted to one hundred and eleven dollars, which was equally
divided pro rata among all the men and his command of Company E, Texas Rangers
was duly turned over to Lieutenant Foster, and he and his fifty men, who had
prepared to go out of service with him, bade a kindly adieu to their comrades
and in a few days presented themselves to Adjutant General Steel for discharge
and final settlement; and they were highly complimented by said officer for
doing valuable and efficient service. In
this connection it is due the men to show the esteem in which they held their
Captain. They bought the finest suit of
clothes that could be found in the city of
CHAPTER XVI
---
Retrospective View.
---
Reader, go back with me while we chronicle very
briefly a few incidents in the life of this man before this recital began.
In
1846 and 1847 he was a volunteer in Captain Felch’s
Company, Gray’s Battalion, Arkansas Volunteers. In 1849 to 1855, inclusive, he was in the
Quartermaster’s employ,
He
took fatherly care of the little captive for some months. When the command reached San Elizario, a little Mexican town on the
We
now return and follow him to the place which he has selected for his new
home. It is a beautiful basin near the
geographical center of
CHAPTER XVII
---
Finale. At Mountain Dale, Home of Captain Jeff.
---
And
now in the evening of their well spent lives, reader, should you chance to
visit them you will find them walking hand in hand through their orchard or
vineyard or sitting on one of the many rustic seats under their own vine and
fig tree, quietly worshiping the beneficent Creator for His bounties to them in
giving them the opportunities and the desire to beautify the earth in the
making of what might be called a Home, as a stepping stone to that
“Land that is fairer than day,
And by faith they can see it afar,
For the Father waits over the way,
To prepare them a dwelling place
there.”
And
should you chance to make this visit to Mountain Dell, methinks I hear you
exclaim: “Verily, verily, Peace hath her victories as well as War, for here
dwells the pioneer and enthusiastic horticulturist of
In
closing his remarks he said: “Stock raising is the
occupation of the barbarous and semi-barbarous nations of the earth. Manufactories are the breeders of anarchism,
alcoholism, poverty and crime, but agriculture and horticulture are the
handmaidens of Land and Religion everywhere.
You may admire the stockman and his broad acres, with his cattle grazing
on a thousand hills; you may admire the factory with its thousands of busy
spindles, but what civilizing influences do they possess? But who can stand beside the tree laden with
its golden fruit or the vine with its purple cluster, or the rose in its
superlative loveliness, without worshiping the God that gave such gifts to
man?”
In
politics he is strictly Populistic, or Progressive,
his religion is broad and reaches out to the ends of the earth, and embraces
every kindred and tongue.
And
he here wishes to put in a protest against the Grand Jury of the present
day. It may have been a wise institution
for many, many years, but it has outlived its usefulness and should be
relegated to the rear as one of the back numbers, for it is strictly at
variance with the teachings of Christ while here on earth.
He
said: “It is better that ninety-nine guilty ones should go unpunished than for
one innocent person to suffer.”
The
Grand Jurors in most cases are well meaning men and the majority of them are
members of some Christian church, and in their zeal they reverse the teachings
of Christ, and by their verdicts they virtually say: “It is better to make
ninety-nine innocent persons prove their innocence than one guilty man should
go unpunished,” and this is brought about in a great measure by the attorneys
who are pecuniarily interested in the number of
bills, and the real justness of the bills is of minor importance, for some of
them get a small fee anyway. Again, it
is praiseworthy in a Grand Jury that finds the bills on the best of evidence,
or the petit jury that convicts without the shadow of a doubt.
It
would be truly Christian in them to sign a petition for the unfortunate victim
as King Mercy from the higher tribunals, keeping ever in view those beautiful
words:
“Teach me to feel another’s woe,
To hide the faults I see;
That mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me,”
For
when they have passed the sentence for conviction they have fully complied with
the letter of the law, and the apostle Paul says: “The letter of the law killeth,
but the Spirit of the law giveth everlasting
life. The Spirit of the law and the Spirit
of Christianity is forgiveness, that we in turn be forgiven by the author of
it, needs be that offenses must come,” whereby a standard of right could be
established.
Again
he thinks that capital punishment is wrong, and should be abolished, for it the
laws of the
Every
man that the creative power allows to be born into this world and commits a
crime should be allowed one chance to reprieve his fallen character, “for of
such is the
