"Why, yes," he replied. "I was one of the first to join them and have been working with them ever since."

"Well, Jake," said I, "you're a jewel, a regular diamond. You know that you have been stealing cattle and branding 'mavericks' ever since you landed in this country, and all the old-timers know it, and now you are running your horse to death to catch a rustler. That is a great joke!"

"I see plainly that you do not understand," said he. "The situation is this: I had to join them for self-protection and also to look after the interests of my friends. Talk of running my horse to death! I have just been returning a favor. I have just been up to the head of Clear Creek to tell Slim Jim to skip, because if they catch him he will stretch hemp for stealing Old Dusenberry's mules, and besides, Slim ain't no bad fellow when he has a good paying job."

I have never had the pleasure of meeting Jake since, but if I ever visit Kansas I shall be certain to call and see him to find out how he managed to keep from stealing his own goods and hiding them out in the canyons, through force of habit after having resolved to leave other men's chattels alone.

It seemed to be the custom whenever a small settlement was formed, for some one to put up a grocery store, locate a postoffice and call it by some high-sounding t.i.tle and establish the nucleus of a city. For instance, there was Boyd City, Beaver City, Benton City, Alpine City, Neutral City, and Gate City, mostly located on the divides, or flat prairie lands on the established trails. "Sod Town," whose name was not so high-sounding as descriptive, soon sprang into existence as the Monte Carlo, or sporting center of the whole country. It was there at round-up time, each spring and fall, that the boys were accustomed to meet and run their horses, discuss matters of common interest, and, in general, to have a good time. As nearly every ranch had a fast horse or two, also a prize roper, whenever the convention took place, things were bound to be lively and at times quite a little money changed hands on the result of a horse race, or other contest of skill.

Among the famous horses of that day that I recall, were "Old Pumpkin," a general favorite, "Stick-in-the-Mud," "Greasy Heels," "Wobble Shanks," and "Sore Toes" with a dozen or so of others to select from, and each and every one had its backers and admirers.

Frank Biggers, Jim Mahoney, Sour-dough-Charlie, Heel-Fly Bill, Snake Eater, and Bull Joe were generally the leading spirits at the race course, and as Frank Biggers was a lover of fair play, he was usually chosen to act as judge; besides, he had a manner of enforcing his decisions which commanded respect and the compliance of the wildest and wooliest of the a.s.sembly.

For the benefit of the readers who are unaccustomed to the ways and phrases of the Western people, I shall here state that the nicknames of a great many of them were acquired from their calling, or from some incident or occurence on the range. If one were to drop into the Panhandle country and inquire for Mr. Chas. Deitrich, Mr. Joseph Parish, or some others who were mostly known by nickname, I doubt very much if the inquirer would find his man, but if he were to ask for Sour-dough Charlie, or Bull Joe, any one could tell them at once where to find them or what their business was. Some of the names allotted to individuals may seem rude to the elite of the East and give the impression of vulgarity and rudeness, but on acquaintance one would find them good, kind, and obliging men as ever saddled a broncho or branded a maverick. The congregation at Sod Town was composed of men who knew one another and any money won or lost was taken as a matter of course, and there was no grief over spilt milk. Theirs was a vigorous life and healthy outdoor sport appealed to them. When their sport was over, they were off to the ranch again in good spirits.

Among the early settlers of Sod Town were two young men, named Ellis and Fiske, who opened a Grocery and Supply store. They kept a large stock of provisions, as well as, boots, shoes, slickers, and other articles adapted to the trade of the cattlemen. In a short time they built up a good trade and were liked by all. One night, two bad men, or would-be road agents, called at the store and rapped for admission. This was not at all out of the ordinary as the cattleman's business kept him at all hours. It was nothing unusual for him to rout out the store-keeper at any hour of the night and have his wants supplied. On the night in question, when Ellis heard the rapping, he donned his trousers and fortunately had his six-shooters in his waistband. As soon as he opened the door of his store he was commanded to put up his hands. He proceeded to do so, but in the act of raising his hand he drew his gun and shot one of the bad men, wounding him badly. Both turned to flee. Ellis pulled down on them in their flight, and by the aid of light from a prairie fire that was burning at the time, fired at the fleeing bad men and killed outright the man he had wounded at the door. The other villian made his escape into the darkness. Of course, Ellis was arrested and taken before the U. S. Court for that district and was honorably discharged. He should not have been arrested for a case of that kind, but there were milage fees to be considered, and the marshall seldom if ever overlooked an opportunity of the kind for increasing his wealth. I have never heard of any other bad men calling on Ellis and Fiske in search of a.s.sistance in a financial way, especially in the manner mentioned above.

Sour-dough Charlie had a little ranch of his own on Wolf Creek where he kept a few horses. He raised a few colts each year, and to fill in his odd time he tanned deer skin, made gloves for the cow punchers, and at times used to cook for a round-up as he was an artist in that line of work as well as being a very entertaining fellow. His chief work of art was the construction of sour dough bread and he had the reputation of being a master in the work. One afternoon a cow-puncher pulled up to the wagon and called for his chuck-a-way, and said he wanted it at once as he had to return to the herd and stand guard while his partner came for his supply.

The cook told him he would have to wait for awhile as he did not have things in shape to get an extra meal. Without further parley and without any warning the puncher picked up a crock full of sour dough and struck the cook over the head with it. The contents spilled over his head and ran down into his eyes and mingled with his whiskers. Right then and there was originated and conferred upon him the t.i.tle of "Old Sour-dough Charlie," a name that will remain with him as long as he lives.

Nicknames and t.i.tles, in this county, amount to about the same thing although conferred in different ways according to conditions. The man who succeeded in acc.u.mulating a herd of cattle amounting to one or two hundred was given the name of Captain. If he acquired five or six hundred, he was addressed as Major, and a man who through good management and perseverance numbered his stock by thousands became the "Old Colonel." There was one very noticeable change in the habits, manners, customs and character of the men who had acquired the t.i.tle of Captain, Major, or Colonel, and that was shown in their dress. The styles of their garments differed, they dispensed with the snake-skin band, they changed their underwear, frequently had their whiskers trimmed and hair cut, and occasionally became a power in local politics. The question was never asked when and how these men became possessed of such large herds in such short time, but to the old-timer it was plain that the Old Colonel was a great business man, or was an expert with the lariat and an artist with the branding iron.

How different is the conferring of t.i.tles in foreign lands, especially in Great Britain, where t.i.tles have to be ratified by supreme authority and approved of by local potentates, and even there we find some t.i.tles resting on tottering foundations and others hang by a very slender thread which is liable to part at any time and leave the possessor in a pitiable ma.s.s of social wreckage. The ceremonies on such occasions are calculated to dazzle the eye and deceive the judgement of the spectator. The sleight-of-hand performer and the street fakir practice the same system and the man with the three-sh.e.l.l game and the three card monte man are all on the same level, but Royalty claims age and dignity wherever you find it. When Capt. Drake returned to England after his expedition of murder, plunder, and piracy, and his arrival was announced to the Good Queen Bess who was on the throne at the time, she at once called for a royal banquet to be held on board his vessel. After rounding up all her Royal roustabouts, flunkeys, and followers, she proceeded direct to the ship where she was going to preside in state until she had knighted the Capt., whose hands were still red with the blood of his murdered victims. When the time for the ceremony was at hand, at a motion of her magic wand the Captain dropped to his knees at her feet to receive the power and authority to take and keep any property on the seas that he felt like confiscating; which meant any that he might be able to lay his hands on.

The ceremony consisted of laying the sword of authority across his bald pate and telling him that henceforth he was at liberty to do as he pleased and that he should remain her loyal subject. She then commanded him to arise and he did so, but was so dazzled with the great honor conferred upon him that I do not suppose he could tell whether he was a duck or a drake.

A prince can make a belted Knight, A Marquis, duke, and a' that, But an honest man's aboon his might, Good faith he muna fa' that.

The price of t.i.tles, like other commodities, depends greatly upon the locality where they are granted. In England, the t.i.tle cost Sir W. Raleigh his head; in Texas, a t.i.tle cost Sour-dough Charley but a few loaves of bread. Imagine the difference.

CHAPTER VII.

Wild Horses; Traits; Difficulties of Catching Them; Preparations for the Same; Personal Experiences.

My experience has taught me that there has not been another animal on the plains as inquisitive and suspicious as the wild horse, or mustang, as it is called. The early horse hunter took advantage of this characteristic inquisitiveness to approach sufficiently close to effect his capture. This was done by placing a wagon sheet, or a bed quilt on a stake and then hiding in the bushes or gra.s.s in the vicinity. The hunter was compelled to remain perfectly quiet in his lair as the slightest sound at times would stampede the horses and render his quest futile. The mustangs, on discovering the strange object in their neighborhood would commence to run round and round in circles, reducing the radius of the circle each time until finally they were within a distance of about two hundred yards of the object of their curiosity. Then they would stand perfectly still and that was the time there was need of caution on the part of the hunter, as the breaking of a twig, the sound of a voice, or any slight noise that would be likely to reach their ears, would start them off in wild affright to return no more as long as there were any indications of disturbance in the neighborhood. If the hunter remained quietly in hiding and gave no sign of his presence in any manner, their curiosity would bring them back again to make a further exploration of the strange phenomenon. In this manner the old horse-hunter used to entice them close enough to "crease"

one of them, as it was called. This "creasing" consisted in taking a very careful and deliberate aim with a rifle and shooting the horse in front of the withers, through the top of the neck close to the spinal cord. This stunned or shocked him so that he would fall in his tracks, paralyzed for the time being, giving the hunter time, if he moved swiftly, to run from his hiding place with his hobble-rope and hog-tie him before he recovered.

It frequently happened that the hunter arrived there too late as the horse often recovered from his shock and was up and away before his arrival; or, the shot being badly aimed, reached a vital spot and the horse would be dead before he could get the hobbles on him. If everything worked out satisfactorily, and the mustang was secured, he would place a "Hackamaw"

on his head in such a way that it could not be shaken loose in the struggle that was bound to follow. I shall here explain that a Hackamaw is a sort of halter, or headstall, made of the end of a lariat rope and put on in such a manner that it holds the head of the mustang firmly without the danger of choking the animal. When the animal was secured, the hunter gave his partner a signal to bring up the saddle horses that were held at a distance and out of sight so as not to scare the herd before capture.

The fun commenced in earnest when the hobbles were removed and the captured mustang was permitted to rise. The first thing on the program was to try to escape back to the herd. That failing, he would go on the war-path and it took a skillful horseman and active ponies to bring him under subjection. It usually required, at least, two, each with his lariat attached so as to prevent the mustang's reaching the other. Several hours of hard fighting then ensued, but in the end when the mustang was conquered he made the toughest and wiriest of cow-ponies.

It very frequently happened that two of these bands of wild horses met and then trouble began. Every herd was headed by a stallion that exercised supreme authority over the whole band at all times, and never allowed any intruder to trespa.s.s on his rights and privileges. As a result, when two herds encountered each other, war was at once proclaimed by the two stallions for the complete control and management of both herds. Never did knights of old covered with armor, go forth to battle with more dignity and determination to protect their lady loves, or to maintain the honor of their own good names, than was displayed by those mustang stallions. With ears turned back and their noses to the ground, they dashed forth to the deadly conflict. The meeting of the two champions was of the fiercest nature. At times they fought standing on their hind feet with their teeth sunk in each others neck, and at others they waged their mortal combat standing on their fore feet using their hind feet as weapons of offence.

Sometimes these battles terminated fatally to one or both of the contestants, but more frequently ended when one of the struggling brutes became so exhausted that he was unable to continue the fight, and acknowledged defeat by retreating to the protection of some canyon or sand hill with his little band of mares and colts, provided the other stallion did not have sufficient energy left to run them into his own harem leaving his defeated adversary to a lonesome existence on the bleak prairie.

I had an old friend at one time who followed up the pursuit of catching wild horses for a living, and for patience and perseverence he never had an equal among his contemporaries. He met disaster and disappointment with unflinching energy and returned to the conflict with unabated courage.

Though the renumeration was small, there was a fascination about the work that he could not resist. Before entering upon an expedition of this kind, he fitted up a camping outfit consisting of a few blankets, a tarpaulin, slicker, coffee pot, skillet, knife, fork, hobble ropes, a supply of lariat ropes, a winchester, six-shooters, and some bacon, the latter being taken along for grease to be used in cooking, as fresh meat was to be had at all times. The prairies were alive with antelope, turkey, deer, and occasionally a stray buffalo was discovered. Such buffalo, deer, and wolves as were taken, were skinned and the hide salted for sale on the market. He used no wagons in his business, but took two mares with him, one to be used as a saddle pony and the other for the purpose of serving as a pack animal. His favorite pony was called Topsy, and was the mascot of the expedition. He had raised her and trained her from colthood and she was trained to such a degree of perfection that she would obey the sound of his voice, whistle, or signal given by the waving of his hat, and never did a railway engineer, or brakeman respond with greater promptness than did Old Topsy when she received the signal from her master. At the word of command she would lie down or rise, and owing to this peculiarity of her training she was frequently used as a wind shield during a cold storm from the north, her master making his bed beside her for protection.

Preparations for these trips were usually made in the early autumn, during the month of September, as the heat of the summer was somewhat lessened by that time, and he generally managed to set out when the moon was new so as to travel by night if necessary. He was so thoroughly acquainted with the country that he knew every creek, and canyon, every spring and waterhole where the mustangs were accustomed to get water. He was not compelled to scour the country for his quarry as every wild horse within a range of five miles seemed to know by instinct the arrival of his pack animals and ponies. Such uncertainty of knowledge did not satisfy them, but to satisfy their curiosity they came along on the run to make an investigation into the character of the intruders who had so uncerimoniously intruded into their domain. By the time the huntsman had unpacked, had his camp-fire built, and was preparing his meal, they would be encircling his camp, running, romping, and playing. The stallion usually took the lead in these diversions with the mares and young colts by their side trying to keep up to his advance. Finally they would come to a standstill and remain perfectly quiet until some noise would startle them and off they would go pell-mell only to return and repeat their investigation into what was the new element that was disturbing the peaceful possession of their range.

This hunter's method was different from what was usually followed by others. It was not his intention to excite or disturb the wild horses in any way; on the contrary his object was to get them accustomed to his presence, get them acquainted with the domestic mares, and render them peaceful and quiet. In a few days his object would be accomplished, and then he proceeded to set the herd in motion to drive them back to the settlements where they could be corraled and handled. He never permitted them to get a moment's rest, day or night, once he had them in motion, and as little chance to graze as possible. In the mean time he saw to it that his own mares had every advantage possible. In a few days, such a system could not but have its effect on the mustangs and they would as a consequence become more docile. Gradually he got closer to them without the danger of stampeding them, until within the course of ten days or two weeks they showed unmistakable signs of weariness and weakness which allowed him to get in closer touch with them. In fact, so much was he in their presence that they came to look upon him as one of the herd. Then took place the working out of his design. He headed Old Topsy for home over the hills, through the canyons and creeks, never stopping for anything, gradually moving along, slowly and quietly nursing them into captivity. Such was the care that he exercised that he made no more than five or ten miles a day on his straight course. At times, before the herd became too wearied, the flight of a bird or the barking of a coyote would stampede them and thus he would lose five or ten miles that he had gained with so much difficulty. On he went after them, doing over again all that had been done before. In case there were no unforeseen difficulties, or accidents, he would finally drive them into the neighborhood of some good strong corral where, with the permission of the proprietor, he would run them in until such time as he would be able to hobble the leaders, which usually required a week or more.

A mustang is so sensitive and observing that I sometimes thought he could count the b.u.t.tons on one's clothes. In fact, I know, that should one change his clothing while breaking one of them, he would have all the work to do over again until the mustang became accustomed to the change. He received everything with suspicion and even a fence-post would call for an investigation. The corral was a new world entirely for him and it took days of patience and perseverence to induce him to enter it. Old Topsy would go in and out and make herself at home, but not so with her a.s.sociates, at least for quite a long time. Finally they would venture in little by little, the hunter permitting them to pa.s.s in and out several times before putting up the bars on them. As soon as the mustangs found themselves unable to get out they became badly frightened and excited, especially during the absence of the hunter. His return seemed to pacify them very much. He had to manage them with great judgement until he managed to hobble the leaders, which, as I said before, took days to accomplish.

It is true that he could have roped and hobbled them in a short time once he had them in the corral, but this was not the way with my friend. He said often times that once he had gained their confidence, he could not betray it. After the mustangs had been corraled for some time and had grown accustomed to the presence of men, then the interesting work took place. They had to be broken to the saddle and bridle and ridden by somebody, and I wish to state that it was a work that required an expert, all green-horns and tenderfeet barred. Around all ranches was to be found a man whose sole occupation was to do this work. He offered to accomplish the task of reforming the wild mustang at from two to five dollars a head, and he usually had the work a.s.signed him. By the time they were broken they were usually sold at a fair price for that cla.s.s of stock while the hunter made preparations for returning to the plains for another lot of mustangs, a work which he seemed to enjoy.

These mustangs did not command a very high price as most of them were too small for cow-work, and too light for single drivers. Sometimes one could pick up a team of these ponies and find them the toughest and wiriest animals that were ever hitched to a buckboard. They could travel from sunrise to sunset at ten miles an hour and never turn a hair. But viewed from all angles the business was not a financial success and the men engaged in it never cleared up any great amount of money, as I proved to my own satisfaction later on.

Before what is now called Meade County was established, there was nothing there but the open prairie. A fence was an unknown thing except where some settler had built one around a stack of hay to protect it from the range cattle that were roaming the plains in great numbers in those days. It was necessary for him to do this as a small stack of feed would be a tempting morsel, in cold weather, to the thousands of cattle wandering loose and in search of fodder. In case they did succeed in reaching the tempting supply, it lasted about as long as a water melon at a negro picnic. It had been reported on what I considered reliable authority that there was a black stallion running on the flat between Crooked and Sandy Creeks, about nine miles southeast of the present county seat of Meade county, Kansas.

The cowboys had often tried to capture him, but in every instance failed.

He was described to me as standing about fifteen hands high, which was exceptionally large for a mustang, with long flowing mane and tail, and he could trot faster than any cow-pony could run. After weighing the matter carefully for some time I decided to go out and capture him. From the description given, he was just what I wanted for a saddle horse. I determined to have him provided I could enlist the services of G. W.

Brown, an old Indian scout, and former companion of the buffalo range. He was, moreover, an expert with the lariat rope and was considered one of the best trailers in the country. The other man I wanted, and whom I finally succeeded in getting, was C. M. Rice, formerly of Jasper, Ind., a veteran of the Civil war, an old and experienced plainsman who knew every creek and trail in the country. After discussing the matter carefully in all its different aspects, we decided to capture him regardless of trouble and expense attached to the undertaking, even though it took all summer.

We had to take a camp wagon, grain and provisions enough to last several weeks, as we would not be able to return for more if we happened to run short. We took our favorite saddle ponies and started early so as to get in operation as soon as possible. It was our intention to locate him early in the morning and have the whole day for the first run. We were fortunate in finding him shortly after daybreak, but his looks were rather disappointing as he did not seem as large as he had been pictured to me by the cowboys. However, we were there to capture him and determined to do so. One thing favored us and that is one of the peculiarities of the mustang, he will not leave his range unless driven from it. He will take his departure very reluctantly and will return at the earliest opportunity.

Our first night was one of rest, with nothing to disturb us but the howling of the coyotes and the bawling of the cattle. Morning found us up early and ready for the chase. We knew it would be useless to try to catch him on a straight run as he would have, at least, half a mile start on us.

We decided to run him in a circle, keep inside of his course, and keep him on the run until he became jaded and exhausted and then let him get a chance to drink his fill of water as he would surely be very thirsty after a long gallop. The consequence of this strategy would be that the mustang would become stiffened and it would be easy to run him down and rope him.

After making the first large circle, C. M. Rice, seeing his horse lathered with perspiration that trickled down from the flanks of his horse, his favorite Old Tom, decided to return to camp and prepare something to eat for himself and us on our return. If we did not return by night-fall he was to keep the camp-fire burning to act as a beacon for our guidance. In order to save our horses, Brown and I decided that one of us should keep on the chase whilst the other rested his horse. This gave each of us chance to refresh our mount with water and gra.s.s until it came his turn to take up the pursuit. In the meantime the mustang was not allowed to have a respite from his exertions, but was kept on the move until about three or four o'clock in the afternoon. Nature a.s.serted herself in his case and frequently, after that time, he would stop to look around and see if his pursuers were likely to give him a chance to rest and refresh himself. It was plainly evident that the pace was telling on him, but he found that his pursuers gave him no opportunity to rest his weary legs. Closely and more closely they came in spite of all he could do to ward off their unremitting pursuit. The moments he took to stop and look around offered us an opportunity to draw closer. Then we both took up the chase at the same time. We divided our forces, one going on one side of him and the other on the opposite. By this time we were within twenty rods of him. By this strategy we headed him for Gypsom Creek in the hope that when he reached it he would stop and drink his fill. That would give us an opportunity of roping him. Everything worked out as we had planned. When the thirsty brute reached the water he drank abundantly of the refreshing fluid. It seemed as though he would never stop. When finally he had his fill we ran him off to the mouth of a canyon where, if once we could get him to enter, there would be no opportunity of his escape as there was no outlet at the other end. I say none, or rather should have said there was one but it was practically out of the question for him to make it. It was about a mile away and the road was filled with boulders and sand heaps and was up hill all the way, and we knew that in his present condition his wind would be gone before he could again reach the open prairie. Now came the opportunity to rope him if he was to be captured at all, as there was nothing left for him to do but choose between the rough boulders and ledges of the other end of the canyon, or strive to evade us by seeking safety in the way he entered. Brown went around and awaited his arrival, while I followed as best I could until I saw him disappear at the head of the canyon. Then I retraced my way and rode around on the divide so as to be in on the final chase. When I came in sight of Brown, I saw that he had him roped securely, but on reaching him I discovered that he had captured him in a prairie-dog town and in the struggle that followed the roping he had jumped into one of the holes and broke his leg between the knee and the fetlock, and the bones were protruding through the flesh. Under those conditions, as he would be of no value to me, and also, as it would be inhuman to turn him loose to suffer and starve, or become the food of mountain lions, or coyotes, I thought it best to end his misery without further delay. This being done, we tightened up our saddle cinches and returned to camp very weary and much wiser than when we set forth in the morning. Thus ended my first, last, and only chase after a wild mustang stallion on the plains of Kansas. As per agreement, Rice had kept the camp fire burning and had, moreover, prepared a supper of hot beans, biscuits, antelope steak, and coffee, which was a feast fit for a king and one which I think no guest of Delmonico ever appreciated more.

The next morning we arose and went to look after our ponies. What a pitiful sight we beheld when we came upon them in the secluded place where we had tethered them! They were gaunt, covered and caked with perspiration and dust of the preceding day's chase.

We gave them a good rub-down and plenty of food and water, which refreshed them very much. After a good breakfast, we took a farewell look at the camp and returned to the ranch. The black stallion with his flowing mane and tail became a matter of past history of the plains. In conclusion I shall say that my two companions of the chase of thirty-two years ago are still both hale and hearty business men in the Queen City of the Canadian, El Reno, Okla.

CHAPTER VIII.

Further Reflections on Western Life; Also on the East; Why I Came West; Some Men I Have Met; Cowboy Acquaintances, etc.

When commencing to write this semi-historical work, it was my intention to confine myself to the early settlement of "No-Man's-Land," but find that I must include the Panhandle to Texas and the South-western part of Kansas, as the soil, climate, and social conditions were almost identical. The industries of all three localities were very much the same, excepting that the Panhandle was much better adapted to cattle raising than to agriculture. In fact, farming was looked upon by cattlemen as too menial an occupation for them to engage in, and, consequently, they knew little about it and cared less. Their indifference to agriculture was such that they would prefer literally to starve to death than endeavor to gain subsistence from the soil. The difference between the old-time cow-puncher and the Chyenne Indian as agriculturists was very little. The former might do a little at farming if he knew how, and the latter might know how if he would only do a little at it. It seemed to be the height of the average cow-puncher's ambition to ride on a fifty-dollar saddle, wear a ten-dollar Stetson hat, a pair of silver mounted spurs, a pair of ten-dollar high-heeled boots, leather leggings, a slicker and a forty-five calibre white handled six-shooter. This made a complete outfit to suit his vanity.

Riding broncos, roping wild cattle, running races, and branding mavericks were his princ.i.p.al business and amus.e.m.e.nt. Attending the spring and fall round-ups, and driving beef stock to market rounded out his season's work.

It is true that there are some exceptions to the general rule. As an example, about twenty-eight years ago I became acquainted with a green cow-puncher, fresh from some Texas town, a tall, fair-haired lad, who was rather reticent, but very punctual in his work. He was the first out in the morning, last in at night and was ready for anything that was to be done in the meantime. His manner lacked the boisterousness of the swaggering swearing, blow-hard that was very frequently encountered in the days work. It was apparent to all that he was a man of reliability and integrity. He was employed by R. M. Wright and Martin Culver to superintend the "W-L" ranch. He was successful in his management and at the same time displayed an honesty that was something new to some of the settlers in his neighborhood. He never permitted a man to rope an animal until he was certain of the brand, and knew to whom the property belonged.

Such a man was certain to rise in the world and today one would find it difficult to recognize in Mr. R. A. Harper, president of the First National Bank, Meade, Kansas, the stripling greenhorn of thirty years ago.

Another of the old-time successful cow-punchers, who fought the battle of life alone and single-handed as cowmen, farmer, merchant, sometimes overtaken by adversity but never discouraged, who plodded on until he reached the top of the financial ladder beyond the reach of want, is Mr.

C. M. Rice, of El Reno, Okla.

The majority of the early settlers who stayed throughout the first hard times, managed to do fairly well, accepting the changed conditions as law and order moved in, while a few developed foolish notions about the curtailment of their freedom, as they called it, and resented the encroachment and manifested their disposition by holding up trains, or other depredations. Such a course of conduct invariably proved a failure and brought disaster upon the defenders of such a cause. The state prisons are still harboring some of those misguided men, protecting them from themselves as well as defending society at large from their peculiar notions. It may seem strange to the reader, but the greater part of the so-called bad men of this country came from the East where they first conceived a false impression of the wildness of the West. The origin of their idea arose from the reading of a poor cla.s.s of literature. Such reading created in their young minds the idea of being "bad men of the West" and they were not long in putting the idea into practice. Just to mention a few of the most notorious, I shall set down the names of Billy the Kid, from New York, Dutch Henry from Michigan, Sam Ba.s.s from Indiana.

I might mention dozens of others whose careers of iniquity did not last as long as those mentioned above. As for the real Western-bred bad men, they were very few in number and were usually driven to it by being credited with the crimes of others.

One of the princ.i.p.al causes of the development of the outlaw was, as I said above, the publication of fiction and falsehood in such papers as the New York Weeklys and dime novels. These were scattered broadcast over the country in cheap editions and the result was the creation of false impressions of the West, and at the same time inflamed the imagination and corrupted the minds of many of the then rising generation.

Well do I remember my introduction to the name of Buffalo Bill. It was in the columns of the New York Weekly, in 1874, when in a lumber camp in Northern Michigan, that I read of his alleged engagement with the chief of the tribe of the Sioux Indians. It ran as follows, as near as I can remember it: "They met on the plains and each measured his chances to overcome his adversary, etc." It would take no great philosopher to tell that the Indian with no weapon but the bow and a bunch of arrows, stood but a very meager chance with Bill armed with two six-shooters and a winchester. "At the first crack of Bill's trusty rifle the wily savage toppled over and fell to the ground. Then, as if by magic, about fifty braves galloped out of a canyon and set out to capture the heap-big pale face who had slain their chief. That purpose was more easily planned than accomplished, for at the psychological moment Bill was re-inforced by his favorite scouts, Little Buckshot and Hotfoot John. After a brief engagement in which they killed about fifteen warriors, they retreated to headquarters for more re-inforcements." This is but a sample of the lies that filtered through the columns of the Eastern papers regarding the Indian outbreaks of the West, and the worst part of it was that such trash was believed by thousands, myself among the number.

Whenever I read of the hair-breadth escapes of "Dare-devil d.i.c.k,"

"Shuffle-foot Sam," "Moccasin Mike," and "Goodeye, the Scout," I felt that I would like to take a hand in some of those adventures, having had a rather fair training in Canada by attending the county fairs, and having had the advantage of a course of training in collar-and-elbow wrestling under Prof. John Lennon. Besides these advantages I was rather proficient in the hop-sted-and-leap, high jumping, high kicking, foot racing, but not in shin kicking.